She would have fallen if he had not caught her and pulled her on to his lap.
Bianca found her soft body plastered to the front of his rock-hard chest. Her hands rested on his broad shoulders. Behind her, an eerie silence fell over the servants. She took a deep breath. Bianca slowly looked up and was stunned by what she found. The raw sensuality in his dark eyes left her breathless. As she recognized the unguarded desire, a slow burn moved over her body, dropping to a warm, melting feeling low in her belly. He eased her closer so she could feel his hard arousal against her round bottom. She gasped and a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.
“It is not every day I find a lovely young maiden perched so temptingly on my lap. Not that I am complaining, mind you.” His breath warmed her neck.
A shiver of delight raced across her skin. She leaned away to see him. His eyes looked even hotter gazing down into hers. In the last few months, as noble after noble arrived at Castle de Neige to court and hope to win her hand in marriage, Bianca had learned to deflect more than her share of amorous advances. She had learned the art of flirtation and knew when to retreat gracefully from any intimacy. It had been a game of which she soon tired. But this man left her confused and she was uncertain about how to proceed. And then noise from the hall intruded on her thoughts and she realized she’d sat on his lap a little too long.
“Forgive me, my lord, please forgive me!” she whispered, finding her voice a bit breathless, her face, hot with embarrassment and she wriggled to get free. “I did not mean to fall on you.”
“But you did mean to drown me?” His deep voice held amusement.
Bianca blushed even rosier and made a greater effort to push her way off his lap. But his arms tightened about her like bands of steel for a moment and then reluctantly, fell away, letting her slide away to make good her escape.
“No, that is not what happened, I assure you, my lord. I am sorry that you were doused, however. The servants will, of course, see to the cleaning of your clothing right away, my lord.”
“And what of your mistress?”
“My lord?”
At his indication, Bianca rushed to her cousin’s side. “Oh, my lady. I am truly sorry. You must go immediately and change your gown. It will need to be cleaned as well.”
Modesta rose to her feet and made a hasty retreat from the hall.
Bianca caught sight of Jabulani who had just entered the hall and was making his way in her direction. She knew his sudden appearance could only bode bad tidings. She moved across the floor to intercept him a short distance from the head table.
“Your stepmother approaches, Beauty. She will be most displeased to see you so attired.” He frowned at her dowdy gown and ratty kerchief.
“Thank you, Jabulani. You have, once again, saved my ears from a sound scolding.”
But even as she turned to make her way out of the room, she was cut off by the arrival of Heloise de Neige at the doorway. Bianca froze. She looked around frantically for another way out. Fortunately, Jabulani stepped forward using his considerable bulk to hide Bianca from her stepmother. She used the distraction to slip out of the hall without being seen.
Bianca fled up the stairs to her room. She wanted to get to her cousin and learn her opinion about the two warrior-barons. She had to admit that Baron Charles was handsome and courteous with beautiful manners, but she knew she could never marry him. It was a pity it had not been his handsome companion, Baron Draco, who came to court her.
But it was the Black Dragon who piqued her interest as no other man ever had. She was oddly fascinated with the man. Something drew her to him like a moth to a flame and she knew that if she were not careful, she would indeed get her wings singed.
* * * * *
The Duchess de Neige swept into the Great Hall with great pomp and circumstance. Though she carried herself with dignity and grace, the woman had no sense of fashion. She looked like a great, beautiful bird strutting through the room in her colorful gown, her head held high as the feathers in her outrageous headdress fluttered in the breeze as she moved.
“My lords!” Heloise intoned importantly. “My husband, the duke, only just enlightened me of your arrival. If I had known such magnificent guests awaited, I would have come down sooner to greet you.” Her hand was proffered to each in turn as Sir Gregory formally introduced them to the Duchess de Neige.
“Do not fret, Your Grace. We have enjoyed breaking our fast with your stepdaughter. She is a lovely young woman, beautiful even, as bright as the sun.” Charles smiled, but the warmth did not quite reach his eyes.
The gaudily dressed, well-endowed, Duchess de Neige realized that she had not made the impression she had intended. Her back stiffened and she swallowed back the bitter taste of disappointment. At one time, she had been as beautiful as her stepdaughter, Bianca de Neige, but the years had taken their toll. Now she was middle-aged, fighting a thickening waistline and hiding the frost in her once lovely chestnut hair under the cumbersome weight of her fashionable headdresses. Thoughts of her young stepdaughter with her long gleaming black tresses left her burning with blinding jealousy. Since she had married the duke but a year ago, she had taken it for granted that the world would be her oyster and everyone in it would go out of his way to please her because of her high station. But things had not worked out the way she had envisioned. Richard was a kind, caring husband but she had to work hard at keeping his attentions to herself. It was a shame he had proven to be such a devoted father as well. She refused to share him with another woman even if that woman was his only daughter. Heloise de Neige had made up her mind to remove the one person who threatened her teetering relationship with her new husband.
Bianca de Neige
In truth, that was why she had arrived late in the hall. She had been to the kitchen taking care of a small task. If all turned out as planned, her efforts would be rewarded when her stepdaughter was finally gone from her life.
Every male who showed up at the gate with the object of marrying her stepdaughter was welcome, no matter what his personage or fortune. Getting the girl out of her hair was her only goal. But this morning, she was feeling her age and the green-eyed monster nipped at her most fiercely. Her husband had come to bed late last night and this morning he had not bothered to kiss her, as was his habit upon rising. He was distracted by the report of the small army approaching his gate. He dressed hastily and hurried away to attend to his new guests.
Her practiced smile never faltered as she reflected on the past couple of frustrating hours. When she realized that her thoughts kept her from concentrating on the conversation, she made an effort to clear her mind of all else and entertain Baron Charles and Baron Draco. What was it Baron Charles said? What had he meant by the strange facsimile about the sun in reference to her stepdaughter? She mentally shook her head and decided that she must have misunderstood.
“I have never heard Bianca compared to the sun before, my lord, but it is a great compliment and I thank you in her stead.”
“I cannot imagine none other than myself would make such a comparison.”
“Well, my lord, with her black-as-sin hair and skin as white as snow, it would make more sense to equate her looks to the night and the moon. Perhaps you are referring to my step-niece, Modesta. With her golden hair, she could definitely be likened to the sun. But you have not yet met her, have you?”
Charles faltered for a moment, a slip only Draco caught. His cousin’s inbred manners dictated that he show this woman a measure of respect even as Draco’s instincts warned him that she was not to be trusted.
A wolfish smile lifted the corners of Draco’s lips for the first time since they had arrived. And he was not one prone to smiling. It made the scar that ran down the length of his left cheek became more prominent when he did so.
“I fear, my friend, that we find ourselves in an embarrassing situation,” Draco murmured as he stepped around his cousin.
He noticed that Charles stiffened at the comment but displayed no
other sign of displeasure. Draco knew that what Charles presented to the world was only what he wanted it to see. He hid his most private thoughts beneath a veneer of sophistication and gentility. No one would ever guess what he truly thought. Draco possessed the same abilities, yet he generally cared not how the world viewed him. He never attempted to hide his hard, cynical interior. He was a battle-hardened warrior and he had no time for mundane chatter and niceties.
He should have felt anger at being played the fool by the little chit, but Draco actually felt relieved that the little jewel Charles had fallen head over heels for was, in fact, not the woman he had come to claim. She was not Bianca de Neige, but rather her lovely little cousin. It was evident that Charles had taken no notice of the insignificant little maidservant with the black hair and milky white skin.
A diamond in the rough!
She had attempted to make fools out of them with her little charade, but Draco would make sure she paid for her tricks. The little maiden would rue the day she set herself against a battle-hardened knight who had seen everything.
“My lords, your presence does us a great honor. I have heard many tales of your feats of strength in battle. Please be free to request anything you wish; anything.”
Her gaze left him and focused on the puddle of cider in the middle of the table and the obvious wet spot on the hem of his tunic. “Dear Lord. You are covered in cider, Baron. This is dreadful! How can this be?”
“Yea, well, that tends to happen when a pitcher is overturned on the table by a careless servant.”
Latching onto Draco’s thick forearm with her claw-like fingers, Heloise led him toward the door. “Come, my lord, I will show you to a guest chamber and have a bath brought up immediately. I am so embarrassed that you have been treated in such a poor manner. Just point out the servant and I will see that she is properly punished.”
“No, Duchess de Neige. That will not be necessary. No harm was done.”
“There must be something that I can do to make up for this incident.” Her hand moved up his arm to the bulging muscle of his biceps, which she squeezed and patted, the idea of what she offered clear.
Draco hid his repulsion at the older woman’s wantonness as he carefully drew away from her touch. It was not unusual for the lady of the keep to bathe male guests personally, but he had no intention of being the same chamber with this one, even if it meant he ended up bathing in the nearby river. It was then that he came up with a more favorable solution.
“Yea, there is something that I require. I noticed a dark-haired maidservant with the young Lady de Neige. I would appreciate her assistance with my bath.” His insinuation, though unsaid, was clear.
Frost filled the older woman’s blue gaze, but her smile stayed firmly fixed upon her painted lips. “As you desire, my lord.”
* * * * *
“I am so thankful that you contrived to rescue me.” Modesta collapsed upon the bed in a fit of giggles. It was obvious to Bianca that even with her painfully shy behavior below stairs, her cousin had in fact enjoyed meeting Baron Charles.
“You did brilliantly, Modesta. But I am afraid we will have to give up our little charade and appear below as ourselves. It would be impossible to carry on our pretense when we join my father and stepmother at this evening’s festivities. The duchess has spent weeks organizing this dinner and entertainment for the many nobles who have arrived with the purpose of courting the Beauty de Neige. And then there is the upcoming Autumn Ball. Heloise would never forgive me if the event were ruined by my foolish devices. It will soon be obvious we were less than honest.”
At her cousin’s outrageously honest statement, Modesta giggled. Bianca’s smile widened and then she giggled. After a moment, when she caught her breath, Modesta looked at her cousin with a sober expression, “I am afraid Baron Charles Sevais and Baron Draco d’Ensoleille may not appreciate our boldness.” She suddenly looked worried.
“I do not think it will make any difference to Baron Charles,” Bianca assured her. “From what I observed, the good man has already fallen for you, dear cousin.” Bianca watched the blush creep up Modesta’s cheeks, giving her a lovely glow that was apparent even from where she sat at her dressing table, removing her kerchief from her head.
“I wish that it were so, Bianca. Though we only just met, and I spoke not at all to him, I must admit that he is a very handsome man and most kind. But he must think me to be a complete bumpkin, an idiot, a moron and without manners.”
“Trust me, Modesta. You are no moron and he did not even notice that you did not open your mouth. I saw it all from a very objective point of view and, he, my dear cousin, is very taken with you just as you are.”
“I can at least feel relieved that it was Lord Charles and not his dreadfully dark friend who came seeking a wife. In truth, one look at the Black Dragon’s horribly scarred face and dark countenance, and I nearly lost all my courage.” Modesta started to unlace the beautiful gown that Bianca had insisted that she wear.
Turning a startled face to look at her cousin, Bianca pondered her thoughtfully. “I saw but one pale scar on the man’s face and it was barely noticeable, Modesta. And I was on his lap, for God’s sake, face to face with him. You are exaggerating a bit.”
“No, Bianca, he is a horribly menacing looking man. So large and intimidating. No wonder he is a successful warlord. One look at his dark personage and black scowl and the enemy would think the devil himself had taken the battlefield and they would flee to save their souls.”
He was dark that was true, with his blue-black hair and sun-darkened skin. The man was a giant among men as well. She could not dispute that fact. But when he caught her in his arms as she fell and held her close, she could not for a moment say that she noticed him to be all that fearsome or menacing. Rather, she had felt safe and comforted. Bianca glanced over her shoulder at Modesta. Strange that she and her cousin should come away with such two very different opinions of Lord Draco. Perhaps it was as Modesta said. Perhaps the dark lord was the devil himself.
After donning her own gown and giving her cousin a kiss on the cheek, Modesta opened the chamber door to take her leave, only to come face to face with the Duchess Heloise.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Modesta murmured, moving aside. The duchess ignored her and advanced upon Bianca.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Bianca offered, knowing that common pleasantries were not what the older woman had come to her chambers to exchange. Blue eyes flashed coldly as the duchess grabbed Bianca’s wrist in a painfully bruising grip, but the younger woman knew better than to fight her. So she clenched her teeth against the pain and kept silent.
“What do you mean by sending your cousin in your stead to the Great Hall to greet the man who came to woo you as his intended? Do you know what you have done?” She stopped long enough to catch her breath, releasing her hold on Bianca’s wrist and then she waved her hand toward Modesta. “The man is now infatuated with her. He mistakenly thought that she was you and was fool enough to fall in love with her.” She paced the room until she stopped and stared at Bianca as if she were seeing her for the first time.
“Where have you been all morning while your cousin took over your duties? And what is this? What are you wearing?” she asked. “You will change immediately. No decent noblewoman would be caught wearing such rags.”
“I wear these only to ride in, Madame. I would never appear in the Great Hall in less than my best.” She had no intention of giving the woman any more reasons to reprimand her. She was well aware of the pain that her stepmother’s long, slender fingers could deal out in a hard slap on the cheek or a vicious pinch on the arm.
“See that you do!” She turned to leave, her delicate nostrils flaring as if the room stank. As she reached the doorway, she turned to Modesta, remembering the reason for her visit to her stepdaughter’s room.
“The maidservant who accompanied you to the Great Hall this morn has been summoned to help bathe Lord Draco. Then she is to be
punished for her clumsiness. A peasant girl should know better than to ruin a nobleman’s clothes with her incompetence.” Her words echoed around the room just before she slammed the door.
Modesta stepped toward her cousin and let out a loud sigh of relief that the witch of Castle Neige was gone.
Biance rubbed the bruise on her wrist caused by the horrible woman who had married her father just the year before. It was the Duchess Heloise who pushed so relentlessly for Bianca to marry and she had gone so far as to import suitors from every province of France and beyond. As for the Duke de Neige, he might as well be dead for all the time he spent with his only daughter. So preoccupied tending to his new wife’s demands and threats, he had no time left for his daughter.
“Do not let her upset you, so, Bianca.” Modesta went to her and placed a comforting arm around her cousin’s shoulder.
“I’m fine, Modesta. You worry needlessly.” She sat down in front of her mirror and fixed the old kerchief back on her head.
At Modesta’s questioning look, she winked and smiled. “Did you not hear what my stepmother said? Lord Draco has requested assistance with his bath. And it seems that he has specifically requested me.”
Modesta’s emerald eyes grew wide in her paling face. “No, you cannot mean to actually go to his chambers and help him bathe?”
“Of course, I do. Why should I not?”
The furious blush lit up Modesta’s face. “He will be…completely…naked.”
“That is generally how one bathes, unless they do things differently in the north. I would think all his manly secrets will be revealed to me, yea.”
A shocked gasp permeated the air, and Modesta’s face grew even hotter with her maidenly embarrassment. Bianca feared she would have to dunk her cousin in the chilly water of the River Garonne to cool her blush.
“Do not worry, Modesta. I will avert my eyes at the appropriate moments.”
“You should not be doing this, Bianca,” Modesta warned.
Kiss of the Dragon Page 5
