Page 98 of A Knight’s Vengeance

The lutenist chuckled. “Merry, milord?”

Geoffrey banged his goblet on the table, startling Elizabeth and the mongrel curled at her feet. “A song to lift my spirits and ease my loneliness.”

Curiosity nagged at her. Elizabeth cast him a sidelong glance. Geoffrey caught her gaze and stared at her with such scorching heat, she blushed. Did he hope to resume their intimacy this evening? She shook the enticing, wanton thought from her mind and brought her attention back to the game.

The musician’s fingers flew over the strings of the pear-shaped instrument and plucked a familiar melody. Elizabeth recognized the song. Her mother had loved to dance to it. Her feet had flown over the floor as if she were weightless.

Sadness weighed upon Elizabeth. Once she had returned to Wode, she must make sure the orphans’ gowns were embroidered and delivered as soon as possible, in honor of her mother’s passing.

“You seem leagues away, damsel.” Geoffrey’s voice came from nearby. As he sat down beside her, the bench shifted and squeaked. He leaned forward and his shoulder brushed hers in silent, physical communication.

“’Tis the music. It reminded me of long ago.”

“Your mother favored this song, if my memory is correct,” Mildred said with a smug grin. Elizabeth shot her a warning glare. Without fail, the matron’s tongue wagged after too much wine.

“Harrumph! Do not scowl at me, milady. I do not intend to become besotted from this rogue’s drink.”

“I did not mean to remind you of your mother,” Geoffrey said, his words soft with apology. His hand closed over Elizabeth’s, and together, they moved a pawn forward into an empty square. As they did so she wondered what had become of her mother’s brooch. Would he return it to her now, if she asked?

He stroked his thumb along the sensitive curve between her thumb and finger, and the thought blurred. “Tonight, we shall celebrate some of the joys of life,” he murmured. “Will you join us?”

She wet her lips. “Milord⁠—”

He released her hand and snapped his fingers. The lutenist began a new song. A few of the servants started to dance. They linked hands, formed a ring, and stepped and turned. The lute player quickened the pace and pounded out the rhythm with his foot, while another musician joined him and drummed the beat on a tabor.

Dominic approached from a far table. “Will one of you beauties accompany me?”

Elizabeth shook her head.

Mildred pouted and took a big gulp of wine. “I am old enough to have birthed you. I know you do not wish to dance with a crotchety old woman.”

“Age brings experience,” Dominic said with a crooked grin. “Come, Mildred. Let us show them how ’tis done.”

The matron cackled. “You are a charmer.” Smiling, she struggled up from the bench, took the arm he offered, and they strolled toward the dancers. When the clasped hands of the revelers parted, Mildred and Dominic joined the ring.

Geoffrey propped one leg up on the bench and leaned sideways against the table’s edge. “You do not enjoy dancing, damsel?”

“’Tis not right to celebrate.” Elizabeth sipped her wine, as dark and red as blood.

“’Tis foolish to dwell on events that may never happen, or ones you cannot prevent.”

He spoke of the melee. Refusing to meet his gaze, to let him see her uncertainty, she watched Dominic and Mildred twirl and dance. The matron’s wrinkled face glowed with the effects of wine and good cheer.

“Dance with me, Elizabeth,” Geoffrey whispered.

The decision was made for her. At that moment, the dancers separated and Mildred whirled toward the table. She grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her toward the ring.

“Mildred, nay.”

“Please, milady. ’Tis most enjoyable.”

As the dancers turned and stepped in exact time, Elizabeth found herself drawn into the momentum. The music quickened even more, but she sensed the rhythm and kept pace. The melody hummed in her blood.

She dipped and turned, her bliaut billowing at her ankles. She stomped on herbs strewn in with the rushes, and the blended tang of rosemary, thyme, and meadowsweet rose up from the floor. Her braid came loose and hair tumbled thick and wild about her face. Caught up in the swell of music and emotion, she felt more alive than at any other moment in her life.

Mildred grinned, and Elizabeth laughed. The dance quickened again. Faster. Faster she turned, whirling around in a blur of hair. She dipped, turned, and spun… until strong arms pried her from the ring and drew her into the stairwell’s shadows.

With a raw groan, Geoffrey pressed her against the cool stone wall. His breath gusted against her brow.