He should have flooded the place with women.
He should have insisted that Ariana stay by his side, up here on the dais.
But he had never believed she would venture into the celebratory throng without him.
He drained his ale and smacked his lips together. Enough was enough. Andreas had snaked an arm around Ariana’s waist and was holding her much too close. It didn’t matter that such movements were part of the dance. Otto’s fragile tolerance was at an end.
He pushed back his chair with a resounding scrape and stood up tall. He would do what he should have done at the very start of this fiasco. Stake a claim to his wife.
If Andreas dared make the faintest sound of protest, Otto would have him thrown into the dungeons for the night.
Seeming to sense his soaring emotions, the minstrels began to play faster as he descended the wooden steps. The music whirled around him, accompanied by a frenzied stamping of feet which was all too reminiscent of the heightened seconds immediately before a battle charge. Otto put a hand to his forehead, momentarily befuddled. He must have drunk more ale than he’d realized.
A pretty serving wench sashayed past him, giving him a wide smile and a generous view of her swaying hips. The sight of her only increased Otto’s longing for Ariana. Where was she? Now that he was amongst his men on the makeshift dancefloor, everything was a confusion of flailing limbs and heated bodies. He stood a head taller than most and the crowd parted before him like a wave, just in time for him to see Andreas’s hand drift down from Ariana’s waist to hover over a place it had no business visiting.
He tightened his fists, a roar of rage erupting in his throat, but before he could stride forward and strike the man for his insolence, Ariana herself took charge. In one swift andsudden movement, she stepped out of his grasping embrace and delivered a sharp slap across Andreas’s face.
Otto felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as Ariana then bobbed her head and politely took her formal leave of the startled knight. Around them, the music and dancing went on. No one else had noticed.
Otto looked from the frozen figure of Andreas to his departing bride and decided his choice was clear. Brushing deliberately past his knight’s shoulders to ensure the man knew his foolishness had been witnessed, Otto too stalked from the hall.
He would deal with Andreas de Montain later.
The air was cooler as soon as he stepped from the great hall. Away from the piping music and raucous laughter, he could think more clearly. His frenzied jealousy abated, leaving him resolute.
Ariana had a lot of questions to answer.
But where had she gone? He looked from left to right, his ears pricked for running footsteps, but all was silent. If Ariana had returned to her bedchamber, he would have heard her ascend the stone stairs. The morning room then. But his instincts told him she was unlikely to take refuge in a closed off room so far from the bustle of the castle, especially after her recent ordeal.
Otto gnashed his teeth together, entirely unaccustomed to the melting pot of emotions he was now experiencing. One moment he was determined to interrogate his bride, the next he wanted nothing more than to carry her away and protect her from the terrors of the world.
The quiet of the castle mocked his plight. He was Earl of Darkmoor, yet his mastery of this very domestic situation was entirely lacking. Althalos was right. If Otto could not commanddiscipline in his wife, what hope had he of leading loyal troops into battle?
A whisper of wind caught through his tousled hair and Otto’s gaze swung towards the entrance hall. Mayhap the front doors have been left open. Which meant that Ariana could have gone outside.
She was a fool to leave the protection of the fortress. Otto strode forward, resolved to find her immediately and bring her back inside. The lands of Darkmoor were usually peaceful—Otto’s own reputation saw to that—but on Beltane night, who knew what thieves and vagabonds may be lurking in dark corners? His pulse quickened at the thought that even now, Ariana may be in danger.
Or was she creeping outside to another secret assignation?
Dread wrapped cold fingers around his midriff as the suspicion settled inside him. If she sought a meeting with someone, it could be a lover, or even a spy from Kenmar. He didn’t know which would be worse, but his lips pressed into a thin line and his pace increased. He would find Ariana and put an end to this wild speculation.
Before the night was over, she would give him the answers he sought.
If anything, the air was warmer when he stepped outside. The spring night was balmy and thick with the scent of wildflowers. A series of flaming torches cast circles of light around the inner courtyard, but Otto stepped out of their comfort and blinked until his sharp eyes grew accustomed to the blanket of darkness. He would not give himself away by carrying a torch with him. If Ariana were really meeting someone out here, that person would not know of Otto’s presence until his hands were around the intruder’s neck.
He crept quietly over the gravel, cursing his heavy boots for the crunching sound they made. An owl hooted overhead, andanother whisper of wind caressed his bare skin. It was a night made for romance. And if Ariana had come out here with that in mind, she would most certainly have made her way to the gardens. Those lovingly tended lawns she had gazed out upon from the morning room. Otto knew another clutch of anger in his chest.
Had he been taken for a fool?
He ducked under a stone archway, quieter now that he strode over grass. Nighttime insects buzzed around his face, but he ignored them with the implacability of a warrior about to attack. As he rounded the next bend, the moon slid out from behind a cloud and illuminated the scene before him.
Ariana stood in a circle of lawn, her arms crossed over her chest and her luxurious red gown spread out all around her. Her head was bowed. She was alone.
Otto’s relief was palpable. He all but staggered into a gorse bush but righted himself at the first prick of the thorns.
No secret assignation then. Neither a lover nor a spy. Ariana simply wished to partake of the night air.
He stepped out of the shadows and said her name.
