Modesta had never been so scared.
Now that she stood within a few feet of the only reason she had come to the Great Hall, she did not know if she had the courage to carry out the deception.
She glanced furtively at Bianca who’d stopped at one of the lower tables, a short distance away. But Bianca’s attention seemed to be entirely focused on the two barons. She stared at them with a sparkle of speculation in her lovely violet eyes. Modesta, momentarily bemused by the look on her cousin’s face, nearly missed the golden baron’s words of welcome. She had no time to contemplate her cousin’s reaction to the barons. At the moment, she had problems of her own and she needed Bianca’s complete attention. More than that, she needed her cousin to step forward and take responsibility for the situation in which they now found themselves.
Come on, Cousin. I need a little help here, Modesta urged silently, wishing the whole while that she had stayed above stairs in her room.
But Bianca did not move from her chosen seat. As her attention came back to Modesta she surreptitiously motioned her forward, nodding encouragingly, mouthing “go”.
Caught up in her own fear, Modesta shook her head in reply. It was the shock on her cousin’s face that stopped her. Realizing what she had done, she turned her attention back to the two men waiting for her, praying her actions went unnoticed.
Modesta took a deep breath and forced her soft, trembling mouth into the resemblance of a smile. She pulled up every shred of courage she possessed and wrapped it around herself like a shield. Then and only then did she step forward, moving on wobbly legs, to greet the two large noblemen who took up a good portion of the high table. To her eyes, they looked to be formidable giants, tall, broad, magnificently built warriors and she tamped down the urge to turn tail and flee the hall.
“Good morning, my lords.” Her voice was soft and breathless, barely above a whisper. She trembled so violently that no other words passed her lips. Modesta demurely raised her eyes to determine what effect her appearance had on them, afraid that they might see through her deception. Her gaze was immediately caught and held by the sparkling blue eyes of the handsome golden Lord Charles. His eyes held warmth and his smile an invitation she did not understand as he gazed down at her from his great height. Her heart jumped, her breath stalled in her chest and a sensation like butterfly wings fluttered inside her. Modesta pressed her hand to her stomach in a defensive gesture. She felt slightly ill and wondered if perhaps she might be coming down with something. Her skin tingled with warmth as his hot gaze swept over her body and she blushed rosily and lowered her eyes. Never had she seen a more handsome man.
Time seemed to stop as they gazed at each, the company around them completely forgotten. Only the snort of derision from his dark companion brought Modesta’s attention back to realize they were not alone. Her startled gaze jumped to Lord Draco, who had also come forward to greet her.
“My lady.” He bowed stiffly over her proffered hand.
His fierce scowl had her wondering if this was what the devil would look like greeting a sinner at the gates of Hell. With his scarred face, black hair and attire, he could have been Satan. Modesta blinked to get the image out of her head. The man scared her. And the way he hovered over her had her biting back a squeak of fear and she took a step back. It was obvious that this could only be the Black Dragon and she shivered as she remembered Leia’s warnings about the great warlord.
To her relief, Lord Charles moved forward and captured her hand to draw her under the protection of his shoulder. “My lady.”
Grateful for his consideration, Modesta glanced back at his dark companion to find that he was no longer paying attention to her.
The Black Dragon had become distracted and seemed preoccupied with something behind her. She found that she could breathe a little easier when she was not the center of his attention. Still, his dark, forbidding countenance made her hesitate about joining them.
Bianca picked up a pitcher of cider from the table and moved around the lower table, making her way closer as she watched her father’s two large guests with curiosity.
She thought Baron Charles Servais was indeed a very handsome man. And from his reaction to her lovely cousin, it was apparent he was much taken with her. She smiled at Modesta’s stunned expression when he took possession of her hand and kissed it. Bianca would tease her cousin later about the gallant lord. But it was the great dark man who drew her attention as he approached her cousin.
Lord Draco, the Black Dragon of Normandy.
The name suited him. Dressed in a black velvet tunic and hose, with blue-black hair and dark mysterious eyes, he was a most magnificent man. His size alone would have been enough to intimidate any man or woman. He dwarfed every man in the Great Hall with the exception of his companion, who was only slightly shorter but just as broad-shouldered.
Bianca boldly watched the tall, dark knight as he stood before the high table. Fine leather boots encased his feet, the bindings laced over sculptured calves to his knees. His tunic of unrelieved black graced his broad shoulders and thick torso. The cut of the tunic had it falling to mid-thigh over his black hose, tight hose that hugged his muscular thighs.
Bianca studied the tall, sun-bronzed warrior-baron, feasting her eyes on every inch of his magnificent form. He was indeed a giant of a man, fierce in appearance and apparently in temperament as well. His thick hair was cropped unusually short for a noble. It was a soldier’s haircut, but on him it looked fine. It gave him a ruggedly handsome mien no matter that a thin scar cut across his face from one wickedly arched black brow, down over one chiseled cheekbone to disappear beneath his ear into the neckline of his tunic.
Strangely, the mark of the warrior on this noble’s face only added to his dark good looks. It testified to the strength and resilience of the man. His nose showed evidence of having been broken, perhaps more than once. No doubt received while he fought valiantly in battle. His deep-set eyes, black as obsidian, were never still as he studied the hall and the people there within.
He had a stubborn jaw and sensuous, full lips. Her eyes rested on those lips momentarily before she met his gaze. She would have moved forward but his bold eyes held her in a trance. The world faded away as she stood there, her eyes consuming every inch of the magnificent warrior. No one else mattered.
It took Bianca a long moment to realize what she did, and she quickly dropped her gaze, blushing warmly at being caught staring at him. She surreptitiously glanced up through her lashes and found him still looking in her direction. She became uncomfortably aware of the intensity of those black mysterious orbs. But he kept looking straight at her. Her eyes widened and her breath stilled in her chest. She had the distinct impression he was trying to read her thoughts, to learn her darkest secrets. But that could not be possible, could it? She shook her head to rid herself of the ridiculous notion.
She tore her eyes from the great, dark man to concentrate on her cousin. Bianca nodded encouragingly to Modesta. It was up to her to handle the situation until they made good their escape.
“Lady de Neige, it is my greatest pleasure to make your acquaintance this glorious morning. Allow me, my lady, the honor of sitting at your right hand to serve you,” Charles addressed the golden beauty standing before him, his sincerity obvious as he offered his arm.
“You are lovelier than any words could describe, my lady,” he murmured softly as he helped her to place at the table.
Bianca watched a delightful blush color her cousin’s long slender neck and rise to her smooth cheeks. Modesta’s startling green eyes flashed a look of confusion as the golden knight froze, speechless as he stared at the beauty at his side. It was obvious that Charles was infatuated with her cousin.
Draco sat back to study the young Lady de Neige. It was said her beauty inspired many poems and ballads and he found his curiosity piqued. Though lovely, she seemed a little timid and lacked the spirit he had imagined a beautiful woman like Bianca de Neige might possess. Even now, her hands twisted the folds of her lovely gown and she seemed a little distracted, her gaze roaming restlessly to the lower tables. When he leaned forward to offer her a choice piece of meat from his trencher, she started, her wide eyes flying to his as she blushed red and gave a slight shake of her, refusing his offer.
“My compliments on this feast, my lady,” he stated. “You are fortunate to have such talent in your kitchen.” He returned to his meal, losing interest in the young woman.
Charles frowned at his friend’s manners and then turned to study his future wife. He tried to think of something to say to ease her, wondering why she was so jumpy. He knew that, as two mighty warriors, he and Draco did indeed pose an intimidating front, but they had been on their best behavior, and still the lovely little maiden looked ready to take flight.
“Thank you, Lord Baron,” Modesta murmured even as the Black Dragon turned away. “I will see that Cook knows you enjoyed her offerings this morn.”
It was unclear even to Charles if Draco cared a wit for her acknowledgement. But Charles had heard her and he was pleased to finally get a word out of her.
“Please forgive our lack of manners, my lady. I am Charles Servais, recently made baron. My brooding friend here and I are honored to share this repast with a lady so lovely as you.”
Without warning, Charles leaned forward and captured her hand. He lifted it to his mouth where he boldly placed his firm, warm lips against the fluttering pulse of her delicate wrist. The young beauty at his side gasped and his lips curved into a smile against her tender flesh.
Modesta attempted to take back her hand, but it was firmly held in his grasp. He ignored her. She gasped as he brought it to his chest and held it captive, her palm pressed over his beating heart to let her feel just how much her close proximity affected him.
Charles gazed into her uncertain, wide green eyes and smiled. “I am at your service. And this,” he waved his free hand at his frowning companion without taking his eyes from hers, “is my cousin, Baron Draco d’Ensoleille. Do not let his fierce frown intimidate you. He is a busy man and has no time for love.”
The pleasant smile on Modesta’s face seemed forced and Charles wondered what the problem was.
Draco glanced at Charles after his little speech, aware that it was a warning. Sensing the other man wanted to make a good impression on the fair maiden seated between them, he made an effort to look less formidable. It was not his intention to frighten her. He followed her gaze and found that she was casting furtive glances at one of the maidservants sitting at one of the lower tables. She looked as if she were sending the maid some sort of silent plea.
“What distresses you so, my lady? Is there something you need?” He kept his voice pitched low purposely to ease.
“No, I am but a little hungry. Please, pay no attention to my poor manners.” Her response was polite, if a little forced
“My Lady de Neige, think no more of your worries. We are but lowly warriors who are honored to sit at the same table with one so beautiful,” Draco murmured politely, doing his best to be pleasant.
“Yea, my lady,” Charles added. “I have come a great distance to make your acquaintance. Many tales of your beauty and sweetness have reached my ears, and I found that I could not stay away. I beg of you, give me some hope that I have not arrived too late to woo you and perhaps win your affections and therefore your lovely hand in marriage.”
Draco sat back and watched the young woman who now moved restlessly around the nearest table below the dais. He openly stared at the most exquisite creature he had ever imagined existed upon this earth. He could not help himself. Although dressed as a maidservant and with her hair covered, it was obvious she was more than she would have them believe. Her actions were far too bold for one of the serving class.
He glanced from her to the lovely woman beside him and frowned. The Beauty de Neige’s attention was centered on her maidservant with such purpose she was literally squirming with restlessness. His gaze swung back to the servant at the lower table. What about her had Lady de Neige so agitated? He had not missed the telling looks between the two women throughout the morning meal.
What game did she play?
“Would you perhaps accompany me for a ride this afternoon, sweet lady?” Charles’ question brought Draco’s attention back his friend’s situation. He watched as his cousin took possession of Modesta’s hand and lifted it to his lips where he kissed the delicate tips of each finger, one by one.
Modesta was startled at the gesture. But as she watched his warm, smiling lips moving so sensuously over her fingertips, she was lost. Never had she experienced anything so exciting. Her heart stuttered in her chest and a heavy feeling centered low in her body. With soft pink lips parted, she looked up in wide-eyed wonder to find his intense blue gaze looking at her with… A hot blush stole up her cheeks as she recognized the look. She had seen it before when one of her uncle’s men wanted one of the maidservants in the way a man wants a woman. She swallowed nervously and dropped her gaze, her cheeks burning with the knowledge she found in Charles Servais’ eyes. Hope, and then excitement, bloomed within her soul as Modesta realized that the man holding her hand was attracted to her.
And then in the next moment, her whole world came crashing down as she remembered who Charles Servais had come to Castle de Neige to marry. It was Bianca he truly wanted. The famous beauty and wealthy heiress was the only woman he would have. All color drained from her face as Modesta glanced around to see if her cousin caught the bold actions of this handsome warrior-baron. She was so mortified at being trapped between two such dangerous men and, even worse, scared to death that they would discover her deception. She glanced at her cousin furtively, trying to catch her eye, wanting the moment to be over.
Dark orbs like black ice watched her from the head table. Bianca met his stare with boldness. She momentarily forgot about Modesta. She was mesmerized by his dark gaze. It was not until he acknowledged her with a slight nod that she realized she had been caught staring. That snapped her attention back to Modesta. The young lord gave her cousin exceptional attention. Bianca became aware that her cousin had reached her breaking point. Bianca grabbed a full pitcher of cider from a servant girl who happened to be passing by. She would deliver the pitcher to the high table herself. She would pretend to trip and spill a little cider on Modesta so her cousin would have an excuse to leave. But she did not take into consideration the bulk of the dark baron or the position of his chair and upended the entire pitcher of cider. A shriek of shock and a curse of outrage filled the air and everyone in the hall turned their attention to the high table.
Bianca stared in wide-eyed horror. Modesta’s shocked expression as she looked down at her ruined gown was nothing compared to the angry curse that left the snarling lips of Baron Draco. He shoved back his chair to escape the drenching from the cider she had spilt on him and knocked into her.
She would have fallen if he had not caught her and pulled her on to his lap.
Bianca found her soft body plastered to the front of his rock-hard chest. Her hands rested on his broad shoulders. Behind her, an eerie silence fell over the servants. She took a deep breath. Bianca slowly looked up and was stunned by what she found. The raw sensuality in his dark eyes left her breathless. As she recognized the unguarded desire, a slow burn moved over her body, dropping to a warm, melting feeling low in her belly. He eased her closer so she could feel his hard arousal against her round bottom. She gasped and a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.
“It is not every day I find a lovely young maiden perched so temptingly on my lap. Not that I am complaining, mind you.” His breath warmed her neck.
A shiver of delight raced across her skin. She leaned away to see him. His eyes looked even hotter gazing down into hers. In the last few months, as noble after noble arrived at Castle de Neige to court and hope to win her hand in marriage, Bianca had learned to deflect more than her share of amorous advances. She had learned the art of flirtation and knew when to retreat gracefully from any intimacy. It had been a game of which she soon tired. But this man left her confused and she was uncertain about how to proceed. And then noise from the hall intruded on her thoughts and she realized she’d sat on his lap a little too long.
“Forgive me, my lord, please forgive me!” she whispered, finding her voice a bit breathless, her face, hot with embarrassment and she wriggled to get free. “I did not mean to fall on you.”
“But you did mean to drown me?” His deep voice held amusement.
Bianca blushed even rosier and made a greater effort to push her way off his lap. But his arms tightened about her like bands of steel for a moment and then reluctantly, fell away, letting her slide away to make good her escape.
“No, that is not what happened, I assure you, my lord. I am sorry that you were doused, however. The servants will, of course, see to the cleaning of your clothing right away, my lord.”
“And what of your mistress?”
“My lord?”
At his indication, Bianca rushed to her cousin’s side. “Oh, my lady. I am truly sorry. You must go immediately and change your gown. It will need to be cleaned as well.”
Modesta rose to her feet and made a hasty retreat from the hall.
Bianca caught sight of Jabulani who had just entered the hall and was making his way in her direction. She knew his sudden appearance could only bode bad tidings. She moved across the floor to intercept him a short distance from the head table.
“Your stepmother approaches, Beauty. She will be most displeased to see you so attired.” He frowned at her dowdy gown and ratty kerchief.
“Thank you, Jabulani. You have, once again, saved my ears from a sound scolding.”
But even as she turned to make her way out of the room, she was cut off by the arrival of Heloise de Neige at the doorway. Bianca froze. She looked around frantically for another way out. Fortunately, Jabulani stepped forward using his considerable bulk to hide Bianca from her stepmother. She used the distraction to slip out of the hall without being seen.
Bianca fled up the stairs to her room. She wanted to get to her cousin and learn her opinion about the two warrior-barons. She had to admit that Baron Charles was handsome and courteous with beautiful manners, but she knew she could never marry him. It was a pity it had not been his handsome companion, Baron Draco, who came to court her.
But it was the Black Dragon who piqued her interest as no other man ever had. She was oddly fascinated with the man. Something drew her to him like a moth to a flame and she knew that if she were not careful, she would indeed get her wings singed.
* * * * *
The Duchess de Neige swept into the Great Hall with great pomp and circumstance. Though she carried herself with dignity and grace, the woman had no sense of fashion. She looked like a great, beautiful bird strutting through the room in her colorful gown, her head held high as the feathers in her outrageous headdress fluttered in the breeze as she moved.
“My lords!” Heloise intoned importantly. “My husband, the duke, only just enlightened me of your arrival. If I had known such magnificent guests awaited, I would have come down sooner to greet you.” Her hand was proffered to each in turn as Sir Gregory formally introduced them to the Duchess de Neige.
“Do not fret, Your Grace. We have enjoyed breaking our fast with your stepdaughter. She is a lovely young woman, beautiful even, as bright as the sun.” Charles smiled, but the warmth did not quite reach his eyes.
The gaudily dressed, well-endowed, Duchess de Neige realized that she had not made the impression she had intended. Her back stiffened and she swallowed back the bitter taste of disappointment. At one time, she had been as beautiful as her stepdaughter, Bianca de Neige, but the years had taken their toll. Now she was middle-aged, fighting a thickening waistline and hiding the frost in her once lovely chestnut hair under the cumbersome weight of her fashionable headdresses. Thoughts of her young stepdaughter with her long gleaming black tresses left her burning with blinding jealousy. Since she had married the duke but a year ago, she had taken it for granted that the world would be her oyster and everyone in it would go out of his way to please her because of her high station. But things had not worked out the way she had envisioned. Richard was a kind, caring husband but she had to work hard at keeping his attentions to herself. It was a shame he had proven to be such a devoted father as well. She refused to share him with another woman even if that woman was his only daughter. Heloise de Neige had made up her mind to remove the one person who threatened her teetering relationship with her new husband.
Bianca de Neige
In truth, that was why she had arrived late in the hall. She had been to the kitchen taking care of a small task. If all turned out as planned, her efforts would be rewarded when her stepdaughter was finally gone from her life.
Every male who showed up at the gate with the object of marrying her stepdaughter was welcome, no matter what his personage or fortune. Getting the girl out of her hair was her only goal. But this morning, she was feeling her age and the green-eyed monster nipped at her most fiercely. Her husband had come to bed late last night and this morning he had not bothered to kiss her, as was his habit upon rising. He was distracted by the report of the small army approaching his gate. He dressed hastily and hurried away to attend to his new guests.
Her practiced smile never faltered as she reflected on the past couple of frustrating hours. When she realized that her thoughts kept her from concentrating on the conversation, she made an effort to clear her mind of all else and entertain Baron Charles and Baron Draco. What was it Baron Charles said? What had he meant by the strange facsimile about the sun in reference to her stepdaughter? She mentally shook her head and decided that she must have misunderstood.
“I have never heard Bianca compared to the sun before, my lord, but it is a great compliment and I thank you in her stead.”
“I cannot imagine none other than myself would make such a comparison.”
“Well, my lord, with her black-as-sin hair and skin as white as snow, it would make more sense to equate her looks to the night and the moon. Perhaps you are referring to my step-niece, Modesta. With her golden hair, she could definitely be likened to the sun. But you have not yet met her, have you?”
Charles faltered for a moment, a slip only Draco caught. His cousin’s inbred manners dictated that he show this woman a measure of respect even as Draco’s instincts warned him that she was not to be trusted.
A wolfish smile lifted the corners of Draco’s lips for the first time since they had arrived. And he was not one prone to smiling. It made the scar that ran down the length of his left cheek became more prominent when he did so.
“I fear, my friend, that we find ourselves in an embarrassing situation,” Draco murmured as he stepped around his cousin.
He noticed that Charles stiffened at the comment but displayed no other sign of displeasure. Draco knew that what Charles presented to the world was only what he wanted it to see. He hid his most private thoughts beneath a veneer of sophistication and gentility. No one would ever guess what he truly thought. Draco possessed the same abilities, yet he generally cared not how the world viewed him. He never attempted to hide his hard, cynical interior. He was a battle-hardened warrior and he had no time for mundane chatter and niceties.
He should have felt anger at being played the fool by the little chit, but Draco actually felt relieved that the little jewel Charles had fallen head over heels for was, in fact, not the woman he had come to claim. She was not Bianca de Neige, but rather her lovely little cousin. It was evident that Charles had taken no notice of the insignificant little maidservant with the black hair and milky white skin.
A diamond in the rough!
She had attempted to make fools out of them with her little charade, but Draco would make sure she paid for her tricks. The little maiden would rue the day she set herself against a battle-hardened knight who had seen everything.
“My lords, your presence does us a great honor. I have heard many tales of your feats of strength in battle. Please be free to request anything you wish; anything.”
Her gaze left him and focused on the puddle of cider in the middle of the table and the obvious wet spot on the hem of his tunic. “Dear Lord. You are covered in cider, Baron. This is dreadful! How can this be?”
“Yea, well, that tends to happen when a pitcher is overturned on the table by a careless servant.”
Latching onto Draco’s thick forearm with her claw-like fingers, Heloise led him toward the door. “Come, my lord, I will show you to a guest chamber and have a bath brought up immediately. I am so embarrassed that you have been treated in such a poor manner. Just point out the servant and I will see that she is properly punished.”
“No, Duchess de Neige. That will not be necessary. No harm was done.”
“There must be something that I can do to make up for this incident.” Her hand moved up his arm to the bulging muscle of his biceps, which she squeezed and patted, the idea of what she offered clear.
Draco hid his repulsion at the older woman’s wantonness as he carefully drew away from her touch. It was not unusual for the lady of the keep to bathe male guests personally, but he had no intention of being the same chamber with this one, even if it meant he ended up bathing in the nearby river. It was then that he came up with a more favorable solution.
“Yea, there is something that I require. I noticed a dark-haired maidservant with the young Lady de Neige. I would appreciate her assistance with my bath.” His insinuation, though unsaid, was clear.
Frost filled the older woman’s blue gaze, but her smile stayed firmly fixed upon her painted lips. “As you desire, my lord.”
* * * * *
“I am so thankful that you contrived to rescue me.” Modesta collapsed upon the bed in a fit of giggles. It was obvious to Bianca that even with her painfully shy behavior below stairs, her cousin had in fact enjoyed meeting Baron Charles.
“You did brilliantly, Modesta. But I am afraid we will have to give up our little charade and appear below as ourselves. It would be impossible to carry on our pretense when we join my father and stepmother at this evening’s festivities. The duchess has spent weeks organizing this dinner and entertainment for the many nobles who have arrived with the purpose of courting the Beauty de Neige. And then there is the upcoming Autumn Ball. Heloise would never forgive me if the event were ruined by my foolish devices. It will soon be obvious we were less than honest.”
At her cousin’s outrageously honest statement, Modesta giggled. Bianca’s smile widened and then she giggled. After a moment, when she caught her breath, Modesta looked at her cousin with a sober expression, “I am afraid Baron Charles Sevais and Baron Draco d’Ensoleille may not appreciate our boldness.” She suddenly looked worried.
“I do not think it will make any difference to Baron Charles,” Bianca assured her. “From what I observed, the good man has already fallen for you, dear cousin.” Bianca watched the blush creep up Modesta’s cheeks, giving her a lovely glow that was apparent even from where she sat at her dressing table, removing her kerchief from her head.
“I wish that it were so, Bianca. Though we only just met, and I spoke not at all to him, I must admit that he is a very handsome man and most kind. But he must think me to be a complete bumpkin, an idiot, a moron and without manners.”
“Trust me, Modesta. You are no moron and he did not even notice that you did not open your mouth. I saw it all from a very objective point of view and, he, my dear cousin, is very taken with you just as you are.”
“I can at least feel relieved that it was Lord Charles and not his dreadfully dark friend who came seeking a wife. In truth, one look at the Black Dragon’s horribly scarred face and dark countenance, and I nearly lost all my courage.” Modesta started to unlace the beautiful gown that Bianca had insisted that she wear.
Turning a startled face to look at her cousin, Bianca pondered her thoughtfully. “I saw but one pale scar on the man’s face and it was barely noticeable, Modesta. And I was on his lap, for God’s sake, face to face with him. You are exaggerating a bit.”
“No, Bianca, he is a horribly menacing looking man. So large and intimidating. No wonder he is a successful warlord. One look at his dark personage and black scowl and the enemy would think the devil himself had taken the battlefield and they would flee to save their souls.”
He was dark that was true, with his blue-black hair and sun-darkened skin. The man was a giant among men as well. She could not dispute that fact. But when he caught her in his arms as she fell and held her close, she could not for a moment say that she noticed him to be all that fearsome or menacing. Rather, she had felt safe and comforted. Bianca glanced over her shoulder at Modesta. Strange that she and her cousin should come away with such two very different opinions of Lord Draco. Perhaps it was as Modesta said. Perhaps the dark lord was the devil himself.
After donning her own gown and giving her cousin a kiss on the cheek, Modesta opened the chamber door to take her leave, only to come face to face with the Duchess Heloise.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Modesta murmured, moving aside. The duchess ignored her and advanced upon Bianca.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Bianca offered, knowing that common pleasantries were not what the older woman had come to her chambers to exchange. Blue eyes flashed coldly as the duchess grabbed Bianca’s wrist in a painfully bruising grip, but the younger woman knew better than to fight her. So she clenched her teeth against the pain and kept silent.
“What do you mean by sending your cousin in your stead to the Great Hall to greet the man who came to woo you as his intended? Do you know what you have done?” She stopped long enough to catch her breath, releasing her hold on Bianca’s wrist and then she waved her hand toward Modesta. “The man is now infatuated with her. He mistakenly thought that she was you and was fool enough to fall in love with her.” She paced the room until she stopped and stared at Bianca as if she were seeing her for the first time.
“Where have you been all morning while your cousin took over your duties? And what is this? What are you wearing?” she asked. “You will change immediately. No decent noblewoman would be caught wearing such rags.”
“I wear these only to ride in, Madame. I would never appear in the Great Hall in less than my best.” She had no intention of giving the woman any more reasons to reprimand her. She was well aware of the pain that her stepmother’s long, slender fingers could deal out in a hard slap on the cheek or a vicious pinch on the arm.
“See that you do!” She turned to leave, her delicate nostrils flaring as if the room stank. As she reached the doorway, she turned to Modesta, remembering the reason for her visit to her stepdaughter’s room.
“The maidservant who accompanied you to the Great Hall this morn has been summoned to help bathe Lord Draco. Then she is to be punished for her clumsiness. A peasant girl should know better than to ruin a nobleman’s clothes with her incompetence.” Her words echoed around the room just before she slammed the door.
Modesta stepped toward her cousin and let out a loud sigh of relief that the witch of Castle Neige was gone.
Biance rubbed the bruise on her wrist caused by the horrible woman who had married her father just the year before. It was the Duchess Heloise who pushed so relentlessly for Bianca to marry and she had gone so far as to import suitors from every province of France and beyond. As for the Duke de Neige, he might as well be dead for all the time he spent with his only daughter. So preoccupied tending to his new wife’s demands and threats, he had no time left for his daughter.
“Do not let her upset you, so, Bianca.” Modesta went to her and placed a comforting arm around her cousin’s shoulder.
“I’m fine, Modesta. You worry needlessly.” She sat down in front of her mirror and fixed the old kerchief back on her head.
At Modesta’s questioning look, she winked and smiled. “Did you not hear what my stepmother said? Lord Draco has requested assistance with his bath. And it seems that he has specifically requested me.”
Modesta’s emerald eyes grew wide in her paling face. “No, you cannot mean to actually go to his chambers and help him bathe?”
“Of course, I do. Why should I not?”
The furious blush lit up Modesta’s face. “He will be…completely…naked.”
“That is generally how one bathes, unless they do things differently in the north. I would think all his manly secrets will be revealed to me, yea.”
A shocked gasp permeated the air, and Modesta’s face grew even hotter with her maidenly embarrassment. Bianca feared she would have to dunk her cousin in the chilly water of the River Garonne to cool her blush.
“Do not worry, Modesta. I will avert my eyes at the appropriate moments.”
“You should not be doing this, Bianca,” Modesta warned.
“Trust me, Modesta. This is for the best. I have been summoned, and if I do not make an appearance, the duchess will become suspicious and she could possibly discover what we have done.”
Modesta put her arms about Bianca’s shoulders and kissed her cheek before reluctantly making her way to the door. “I will go and find Jabulani and send him to you. If the Black Dragon tries anything inappropriate, you need only call out and he will brave the Dragon’s den to your rescue.”
“Do you think I will need rescuing from the Dragon?”
“He is a dangerous man, Bianca. I don’t want to take any chances.”