AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He crossed his arms over his chest, watching her set her scepter against a bench. Others, especially the courtly men, watched her carefully.
Greer gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to dance, but he also didn’t want to throw Lucy into a bloody jackanape’s arms. He held out his arm, and she took it. With any luck, the minstrels would end the dance soon and take a much-needed break.
Stepping onto the dance floor, he took Lucy’s hand, holding it before them as they joined. The room was dim, splashed in light from a hundred candles, some high in the chandeliers, some behind glass globes in sconces on the walls. The fire was fed at one end by the massive yule log. It gave the room a golden glow cut with shadows and the quick tempo of lutes and flute.
Greer was certainly used to the quick pattern of steps, although he’d feel more balanced if he were holding his sword while working through them. Lucy and he came closer as the dance required, and he felt the pull between them that remained. His hands encircled her waist, and he lifted her, setting her down in a turn. He didn’t even need to help lift with his knee, despite it being part of the dance. They moved apart, and Lucy’s smile held surprise.
“We are not so uncultured up in Edinburgh,” he said as they neared and he took her close once again, lifting and turning.
“Scottish warriors learn La Volta?” she asked.
“’Tis practice for war.”
Her smile broadened. “You are most accomplished then at warring and dancing.” She glanced past him. “You make all the men frown with jealousy and all the ladies fan their heaving bosoms.”
He snorted softly, and they moved apart again.
“Was that a laugh?” Lucy asked. “Did I win a laugh from the serious Highlander?”
They turned in their own circles and came together again, his hands now familiar with the span of her waist. “A laugh of derision is not a true laugh.”
He held her close as they turned, and she kept her beautiful eyes focused on his. “Allowing yourself to feel merry will not jeopardize your mission, Greer.”
“I’m not known for ever making merry,” he said, “and I don’t make a habit of smiling.”
Her brow furrowed the slightest amount despite her smile. “A smile is my weapon to beat back the demons of the past and disarm the would-be villains in my path.”
She was close, her petticoats pressed against his legs. “Unfortunately, the villains I know would not be undone by a smile, even from a beautiful lass.”
“Beautiful?” she whispered, her gaze unwavering.
“May I claim the Lady of Misrule for her second dance?” William Darby appeared beside them, and Greer realized the tempo of the song had changed to a jaunty dance that brought partners across from one another in long lines.
Greer released Lucy and gave her a brief nod before turning away.
“Thank you,” Lucy said, her voice loud.
He glanced back. She looked at him, her smile gentle. “For the dance.”
“Are you a leper?” The high voice caught Greer’s attention, and he turned toward the sugar works. Catherine, Nick, and Alyce stood there with a lady and lord of the court.
Alyce was desperately trying to fix her mask that had come undone, dropping away from the scars on her face. Several gasps rose nearby from the question. The poor girl seemed paralyzed in fright.
Chapter Eight
“If you’re going to splash out at Christmas, you might as well do it in style. After all, ‘both meat and cost, Ill dressed islost’.”
Thomas Tusser,Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry, 1573
Lucy watched Greerstride toward the sugar works where Catherine, Nick, and Alyce stood. Something was wrong. If Greer hadn’t been but a few steps away, his stride could have been called a charge, as if into battle.
“Pardon me, William,” she said, squeezing his arm before striding toward the table. She passed Cordelia on the way. “Dance with William.”
“Now?” Cordelia asked.
“By order of the Lady of Misrule,” Lucy said as she hurried on.
“She is not a leper,” Greer said to Blanche Perry and Johnathan Whitt, who stood with aghast faces, staring at Alyce.
