The Chief's Maiden (Border Series Book 3) by Cecelia Mecca

Author:Cecelia Mecca [Mecca, Cecelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946510068
Publisher: Altiora Press
Published: 2017-09-11T16:00:00+00:00

Toren sat across the hall from Juliette, much the same as he had that first night. Gregory was beside him, at a table that was a mix of English and Scottish. A wealthy baron and his wife sat in their midst, sharing a flagon of wine with them and several knights who likely had nothing more than the armor they’d worn to this event.

While the wealthiest or most prestigious guests typically sat closest to the host, this event was intended to bring borderers together regardless of rank or nationality—a notion that seemed more heartily embraced by the baron than his wife. For the whole meal, she’d stared in obvious horror at the man across from her, as if he were a barbarian and not a knight.

“Imagine bedding that old witch,” Gregory whispered.

Toren shuddered. Though the woman was handsome for her age, it was clear from the lines around her mouth that she rarely smiled.

“I’d rather not.”

He popped a piece of meat into his mouth and looked at Jules. Again. She had not glanced his way all night. Or perhaps she had but he’d not noticed.

“Toren Kerr. In love with an Englishwoman.”

He placed a well-positioned elbow into his friend’s side, caring not that Gregory choked on his dinner.

“I am not—”

“Ha!” Everyone seated with them looked at Gregory, who simply shrugged. In a lower voice, he continued his verbal torment. “I’ve had the great fortune to be in love with many women. It’s pure foolishness to get stuck on one.”

Of all the men who could have done him honor on the battlefield, why must this cad have been the one?

“Why don’t you marry her? Pride for having condemned your sister for choosing an Englishman? Will she not have you?”

Though Gregory was clearly attempting to goad him, Toren refused to allow it. He didn’t react in any way.

“No matter. It appears she’s found another to take your place.”

Toren shifted his gaze to her in alarm, watching as the earl’s nephew held out a hand to her. She stood, tucked her elbow in his, and joined the other dancers. Music played throughout the meal. The dancers needed only wait for the main course to finish, and now that the hosts’ table had been cleared, the night’s revelries had begun in truth.

As the song ended and the next one began, Toren began to stand.

“Toren.” Gregory pulled him back down. “You will dance La Rursus? You will turn every head in this hall if you do anything other than sit and watch. Unless, of course, you’re prepared to declare for her.”

Declare for her? That was not possible.

“Well? Are you?” his friend pressed.

“Nay.”

He sat.

“I thought as much.”

Though he would sooner slit the earl’s nephew’s throat, Toren watched instead as he circled Juliette in the most erotic dance allowed in polite society. Outlawed by the church for that very reason, the La Rursus was only acceptable since Queen Eleanor, much to King Henry’s dismay, had declared it as her favorite. He watched as the young man circled Juliette with his hand at his sides.

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