Kiss of the Dragon (15 page)

“Never mind, Carmen. They have not come here to buy your
favors.”

Turning a frigid glare upon the older woman, the voluptuous
Carmen thrust out her hip and placed an inviting hand there to entice her male
audience.

“I did not think they came all this way to watch me dance.”
Her lips curved into a seductive smile as she continued to gaze at Draco from
beneath her thick black lashes.

“I am the best dancer in the camp, my lord Dragon. You were
at Castle Neige last night and I know that you watched me dance.” Her hands
moved over his muscular shoulder and down his arm as she moved against his
side. More than just her skirt brushed his thigh as one of her shapely hands
dropped lower. “I will be at the castle again tonight. If you wish, I
will….dance for you, in private.” Her invitation was obvious.

“Get to your chores, Carmen, or you won’t be going anywhere
tonight.” Veryalda shooed the sensuously tempting beauty on her way.

As Carmen walked away, her hips swayed suggestively. She
turned her head and gave Draco a look that said more than words that she
expected to see him later and the small kiss she blew his way suggested that
they would get to know each other very well. Very well, indeed.

“You had better watch your step with that one, my boy. She
derives joy from the trouble she causes and for now, she has set her sight on
you. Take heed, my lord; do not make the mistake of falling into her tender trap.”

The Great Hall glowed warmly, illuminated by hundreds of
candles in numerous brass sconces set along the stone walls and from a
magnificent crystal chandelier that hung suspended from the rafters high above
the dance floor. Gay laughter and music filled the air as a colorful array of
magnificently dressed nobles in their silks and lace milled about the hall
absorbed in lively conversation and merry laughter.

Bianca knew the moment Lord Draco arrived because she had
been watching for him. It gave her pleasure just to observe him as he moved
loftily around the edge of the room. Her heart fluttered with joy as she
realized that he purposely made his way toward her. But as she stood in
anticipation, a young man stepped forward to intercept Draco with the intention
of introducing him to the lovely young woman at his side.

Bianca recognized the young nobleman as one of the young
lords who had arrived only that morning. So far, he had made no effort to seek
her out, and from what she had learned about him through her maid, his real
intention for being here at Neige was to find a husband for his shy younger
sister.

“And at present, it appears he considers the infamous Black
Dragon of Normandy a possible match for her.” This last was murmured beneath
her breath so that anyone standing near would not hear her speculation.

Bianca’s eyes narrowed with sudden jealousy. She had never
before paid much attention to the other unmarried maidens who came to take up
temporary residence other than to pass a short time visiting with them as they
sat in the solar gossiping about fashions and such as young women do. But now
she found herself in the disquieting position of viewing every woman in the
room as a potential threat to what she considered her property and her hackles
rose as she prepared herself to do battle to hold him. The extent of her
jealousy was a very new experience for Bianca. She had never had anything to be
jealous about before now.

As soon as Draco arrived, his eyes sought Bianca out. She
was surrounded by a multitude of likely suitors who all clamored for her
attention. She handled them with the ease of a young queen holding court as she
smiled and nodded. But when their eyes met over the distance of the room, he
knew that she was only waiting for him to rescue her. Even if he had agreed to
help her sort through the numerous candidates seeking her hand in marriage, he
could not bring himself to merely hand her over to any one of them. His heart
warred with his mind about where his duty lay.

Glancing around the maddening crowd to find the most
unobstructed route to her side, he found his cousin holding court at the side
of the room. But it was the lovely Lady Modesta who received all his attention.
Draco smiled slightly as he watched his cousin maneuver the maiden away from
the crowd. They moved into one of the small alcoves behind several large pots
of shrubbery where Charles placed his large body between the shy Modesta and
the rest of the room as he proceeded to woo her.

By the envious expression on the faces of several young
women, as well as a couple of older ones, who looked with interest at his
broad, velvet-covered back, Charles still had the knack for drawing females of
any age. Draco smiled wryly and shook his head. He threaded his way through the
crowded room trying to avoid being stopped by anyone who just wanted to chat.
But it was not meant to be.

“Baron d’Ensoleille?”

Draco paused as a familiar young nobleman touched his
sleeve. It was one of the young gallants who had been in his hunting party that
morning. He raised a black satanic brow in a frown at the forwardness of the
man. A gasp of terror from his young female companion drew Draco’s attention in
that direction. The lovely young maiden had a death hold on the young nobleman’s
sleeve as he tried to draw her forward but she held back staring up at Draco as
if he were indeed the very devil.

“Hush, Miranda. Show a little backbone.” The whispered
reprimand was loud enough for Draco to hear and he empathized with the girl for
her terror. He knew that his face was a fright. Before he could move away, the
young lord forestalled him.

“Excuse me, Baron Lord d’Ensoleille, for being so bold, but
I wish to present my younger sister, Lady Miranda.” He pushed the trembling
young maiden forward, only to have to clear his throat in warning to remind her
of her manners. “His lordship, Baron d’Ensoleille.”

Timidly, Lady Miranda raised her hand and offered it for
Draco’s attention. He accepted it gravely and lifted it to his lips, but before
his mouth even touched her skin, she jerked her hand from his grasp and then
went white with shock at her rudeness.

“Oh, my lord, please forgive me. I am so….” Before she could
finish her sobbing apology, an older woman, who was apparently her attendant,
stepped forward and drew her away before she could embarrass herself or her
brother further.

“Forgive my sister, Baron d’Ensoleille. Miranda is very
young and not accustomed to the ways of men.” He shrugged his shoulders in his
puzzlement as how to explain his painfully shy sister. “She is easily
frightened. Not that you alone frighten her, my lord. She panics readily. I
fear that my duty in finding her a suitable husband will be near to
impossible.”

“Think nothing of it, young…” Draco couldn’t remember the
young man’s name, so he went on. “Perhaps you should talk to the Duke de Neige
about such matters. He seems to know the way of it.” With that short rejoinder,
Draco moved on, not wishing to engage him in further conversation. He was well
aware of what the young nobleman had in mind. A possible match between his
young sister and the Black Dragon. But Draco had no intention of accommodating
him in that area.

Draco had mapped out his future years before and marriage
was not to be found. Even now, he made an exception in appearing at this ball.
He generally had little time or patience for the company of gentlefolk. He was
used to his way of life, a warrior’s life, harsh and, at times, unforgiving.
This crowd of overly dressed nobles and their fine ladies made him nervous and
he did not care for the feeling. The only women he came in contact with were
camp followers or whores. Having lovely young maidens pushed at him with the
proposition of matrimony in mind was disquieting to say the least.

His earlier intention of making his way to Bianca’s side
suddenly evaporated and he came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the room. In
his mind, he still saw the horror reflected in young Lady Miranda’s eyes.
Flashbacks of a similar look on young Lady Deidre’s face when he arrived to
claim her as his bride flashed to mind. Even though he was much older now, a
seasoned warrior who had faced down enemy after enemy, the recollection hit him
hard. He truly believed that Deidre had been correct in naming him for what he
was; a great, ugly, scarred beast.

Draco looked around him and found that several maidens were
staring unabashed at his face, their faces showing dismayed fascination. When
Draco nodded slightly to acknowledge them, they quickly looked away pretending
they had not noticed him. But their whispered comments behind decorated fans
were loud enough to hear and his horrible, scarred face was what they commented
on. Several pairs of eyes glanced back at him and then away as if he were a
monstrous display for their entertainment.

Draco moved then, forcing his way rudely through the
remainder of the crowd, his face darkened in humiliation and anger. He
continued through the crowd, barely responding to the polite acknowledgments
that were murmured his way. He had one goal in mind at that moment and that was
to get to a darkened corner of the room where he could drink ale until he could
leave without insulting his host.

But he was distracted from his dark thoughts by the loud
unruly noise near the entranceway. As the noise of the crowd subsided, an
older, gaily dressed man with a violin at his shoulder stepped through the open
doorway and began to play a lively jig as a group of young men and women
beating tambourines followed him.

Guests cheered heartily and then moved back to the edge of
the dance floor to make room for the much-anticipated entertainment to begin.
The low plaint of a Rom violinist suddenly changed tunes and began softly
filling the air with a slow, sensuous melody as several gypsy women moved
forward and began to move sensuously around the dance floor. Their movements
were purposely seductive, their arms rolling and weaving in the air, their
hands undulating in curiously hypnotic patterns as the men beat the tambourines
against their hands. The bangles on the gypsy’s ankles jingled in rhythm with
the slow foot movements and their hips swayed enticingly as they danced in and
out among the guests, selecting the males to slowly circle, their bodies
touching and retreating in an obviously sexual invitation.

The beat of the music quickened and arms and hips followed
in rhythm and the women whirled in fast, intricate movements moving to the
center of the room and out again. Each picked a man and now moved to him,
smiling provocatively up at him as she ran her hand ran over his arms and
shoulders while he laughed and playfully grabbed at her. The display of sexual
charms soon had every male in the room moving to try to catch an elusive gypsy
dancer as she whirled by.

But it was one particular man whom Bianca watched as a comely
dancer took every opportunity to press her body against his as she whirled and
swayed to the music. It was obvious she performed for him alone. Bianca watched
the expression on Draco’s face, trying to determine if he enjoyed the
attention. When he smiled down at the dark beauty, she felt her heart squeezed
slowly, painfully. When the gypsy took Draco’s hand and invited him to join her
in a slow, sensual dance, Bianca found that she could no longer stand there and
watch. She moved to the side of the room and slowly made her way to the
doorway, thinking to seek the solitude of her bed for the rest of the night.

Bianca considered that the whole of her day had been ruined.
Her disappointment had begun early that morning when she had found out Lord
Draco had ridden out before she could catch him.

When it finally came time to make an appearance in the great
hall, she had been excited and anticipated how the evening would proceed. She
had hoped to be seated next to Lord Draco at dinner. Bianca needed to see him,
to talk with him. But he had not made an appearance. She made do with the
company of several young lords who did their utmost to entertain her with
stories of their great hunting feats earlier in the day.

Bianca sat for several moments fuming at the knowledge that
she had missed the pleasure of spending the day in Lord Draco’s company. After
searching the valley and forest for the hunters she had given up and returned
to the castle to retire for the afternoon to her rooms to work on her writing.
But her attention kept wandering to the dark knight and her pen remained idle
for the most part.

Now she forced herself to smile and she accepted their
offers of the choicest pieces of meat and the best wine and pastries. She had
all their attention but she felt empty and lonely even among so many. There was
only one man whose company she craved and she had spent the entire meal waiting
for him to make an appearance.

During supper, she happened to glance down the table at her
father only to find him watching her intently. He gave her an encouraging nod
to let her know that he approved of the attention she received from her young
suitors and that she should make the best of it. Bianca smiled weakly at him
and then she glanced at her stepmother who sat at his side. She was shocked to
find the woman’s face twisted in a mask of hatred as she returned Bianca’s
stare.

It was clear Heloise was very unhappy about something, but
what, Bianca had no notion. She glanced around at the young men around her and
found them to be handsome each in his own way and pleasant enough. What did it
matter to her stepmother who she chose to marry as long as she did? It was what
Heloise wanted, was it not? Her stepmother had let it be known far and wide
that her stepdaughter was old enough to wed. And she had made no secret to
Bianca that she wanted her gone from Castle Neige and her life.

When she reached the entranceway, Bianca turned back to
watch Lord Draco as he moved around the floor with the voluptuous gypsy in his
arms, a haunting melody playing on and on. It was worse than being caught in
one of her dark dreams because this was real and she could not awake to escape
it. Her head began to ache and she felt sick to her stomach. Bianca needed to
get out of there before she made a fool of herself by losing her supper there
on the dance floor. There was only so much pain and heartache that a maiden
could endure and she was definitely past that point.

She had never considered that Lord Draco would betray her
with another woman, but then, he had never made her any promises either. Their
relationship was a frail one, and apparently, at this point in it, she was not
important enough for him to consider her feelings at seeing him in the arms of
another woman, even if it was only a gypsy wench. The baron was a man after
all. He could take any woman he wanted and she had no leverage with which to
stop him. Sadly, Bianca had only a few more days to get him to commit to her,
only until the end of the week, or she would lose him. Now, as she watched him
dancing with another woman, her confidence in her scheme faded. How much could
she expect of a man who publicly fawned over a gypsy slattern, one who made it
obvious that she was only too willing to share his bed if he but asked?

Of course, Bianca thought bitterly, he had no intention of
marrying the gypsy either, but he knew that he could bed her and leave her in
the morning with no consequences.