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Dristan came towards the vision afore him whilst she stood her ground this time. He was impressed how she gazed at him directly, as if she in truth feared no man as she had said. He smiled at her again, noticing the unusual color of her deep violet eyes and saw her startled expression. He hesitated, if only for a second, afore he carefully reached for her hand holding the tartan in place to cover her features. He felt it tremble as the cloth fell away, and he brought her but a step or two closer to his side.
For once in his life Dristan could form no words as he stared down at the treasure afore his eyes. She was indeed more lovely than he had first thought, upon closer examination, and he was not sure how he would be able to let her go now that she was almost within his arms.
She closed her eyes, and he felt the heat of their body’s as he moved her closer ’til they were but a heartbeat away. “Carpe Diem,” she spoke tenderly, as if she were savoring this moment, however brief it may be. She opened her eyes, noticing his further bewilderment at her words. “’Tis Latin . . . it means to seize the day.”
“Aye, I know its meaning. I am just surprised you do, as well.”
“My lord?” she questioned breathlessly.
Dristan continued to view the beauty of the woman, who watched him just as intently, almost as if she knew him. He cleared his musings inside his head and smiled once more at the fair maiden afore him. “You dress with clan MacLaren’s colors and that of a peasant, yet your speech is of a lady,” he answered. The mystery intensified as he felt the slight calluses in the palm of her hand he yet held, giving evidence she was used to hard labor.
“Not all peasants are unlearned, my Lord Dristan, even though ’tis most unusual,” she said, as if stating the obvious. His brow once more furrowed in puzzlement, and he had the distinct feeling she was poised to take flight.
“You give no hint of a Scottish brogue which seems out of place if you are but a peasant from the village, and yet you somehow seem familiar to me as if we have met afore,” he continued tentatively, and saw her give the slightest of smiles. “Surely this is not the case, as I would be hard pressed to forget someone as charming as you.”
“I suppose, coming from the Devil’s Dragon, I should consider your words a compliment, although I find it hard to believe that you give them often,” she teased and gave him an expression that told him she was surprised she had found the nerve to do so.
Encouraged by her words, Dristan urged her closer and was pleased when she came readily into his arms, resting her hands upon his chest. “Tell me your name, ma cherie,” he whispered, bending his head and inhaling the scent of her hair, a smell of the fresh sea air. “’Twould give me great pleasure to have it pass from my lips as we converse together.”
She gave a sweet laugh, making his smile broaden in encouragement even as she shivered at his touch. “Converse, you say? Since you have already mentioned your reputation precedes you, my lord, ’tis hardly likely conversing is all you have in mind this day.”
“I would be lying if I said I do not desire to have a taste of your sweet lips beneath mine and all else you would offer,” he told her truthfully but watched in dismay as the spell that had been woven between them was broken with his words. She stepped away from him, covering her face once more. “Surely you would not deny your lord a simple kiss.”
The woman pondered his words and took a hesitant step back as if she knew she had stayed too long. “A kiss is not so simple to a woman’s heart, my lord, hence I would not give them lightly and without thought.”
“Surely you are not wed?”
“Nay, my lord, I am not.”
“Then I do not see the problem if we but share a moment or two of pleasure this morn.” Dristan reached for her again, but to his irritation found only empty arms as she dodged his outstretched hands. Still he persisted in his efforts to know the maiden further. “Come now, do not be shy. I but wish to know you,” he said, trying again, and got no further than he did but moments afore.
“To what end, Lord Dristan?” she queried tartly, as he watched her become annoyed with him. “I will be no whore for you or any other man nor shall you make me your lady wife. I am but one woman among many to have crossed your path and surely there will be more to follow as you travel about on the king’s business. I will not be used and tossed aside with mayhap a babe in my belly for allowing you to, as you said, share a moment or two of pleasure,” she answered angrily. “Somehow, I think I am worth more than that, although you may not think so.”
Caught off guard by the bitterness in her words, Dristan was about to reply when the sound of racing hoof beats came to his ears and he turned to see the cause. He was put at ease as several of his guardsmen came into view and dismounted with swords drawn as if protecting him from some unseen enemy. He turned back to have further speech with the woman only to find her gone from his sight with only a brief glimpse of her tartan as she disappeared into the forest.
Dristan swore to himself, afore turning towards his men with an enraged glare. Geoffrey sheathed his sword with a knowing smirk set upon his face as did Ulrick and Morgan. Taegan and Turquine began to chuckle but soon stopped with a glare from their lord.
Only Fletcher braved the dragon’s wrath and came to stand next to his lord. “We thought mayhap you made leave of your senses to go riding without your guard. ’Twas most unusual for you to do so, Dristan, but perchance you had a meeting of a more intimate nature,” he dared with a grin.
“I but wished some time unto myself,” Dristan replied sternly.
“I do not think my eyesight was mistaken by taking that form to be anything other than of a pretty young woman. To chance an attack alone is not worth the price for a bit of a romp with a comely wench, my lord,” Fletcher chided knowingly. “Bring her to your chamber if you must or avail yourself to one of the whores already housed at Berwyck. ’Tis much easier to watch your back when we know where you are than if you are missing, and we know not which direction to seek you out.”
Dristan tossed Fletcher a scathing look, causing the man to laugh harder. He dared much and would only have taken the jest from him or Riorden and none other. Knowing he had not heard the last of this, Dristan went to Thor, grabbed the reins, and vaulted into his saddle. As he donned his gloves, he turned to his men with a smile they could only interpret as retribution, coming their way for making sport of their lord.
“Since you men are so concerned with my safety and somehow feel I could not hold my own, we shall ride back to Berwyck and commence to sweating out some valuable time in the lists. Perchance then you will remember who your master is and learn some respect,” Dristan promised dryly.
No one dared to groan, with thoughts of the coming afternoon’s training, with one who would show no mercy, and in unison, they turned their mounts towards home. He allowed himself one brief glance towards the trees where he had last glimpsed his woodland sprite of the forest. He smiled at the memory of how she had felt in his arms and vowed he would somehow find her. What he would do with her when he located her he knew not, but he pledged to himself he would not rest ’til she was his.
