Chapter Four
“Be the tables far enough back to make way for the dancing?” Ahna asked Heather and the others as the men stepped back from setting another long table to the left.
Heather and Ahna had foregone the nursery to help decorate the hall for the fast approaching Yuletide, but more importantly, for the wedding this evening. Brenda, a Scot whose family remained at Dillyglen, and one of Royce’s warriors, Cedric, would say their vows this verra night. Merriment would fill the hall till the wee morning for many.
Bertha beamed. “’Tis perfect. We be putting the food and drinks on the tables on the right to be out of the way, and musicians by the doorway. We just needs to set the pretties throughout, then the cooks can finish their part.”
“All right then,” Royce said, “if you ladies will excuse us men, we will let you have it and see you later.” He ambled to Ahna’s side, gave her peck on the cheek and led his men away. Sir Geoffrey nodded to Heather. And there was that blasted wink of his. Would she ever be able to stop herself from blushing in the mon’s presence?
The wedding brought tears to many a women’s eyes. Heather included. ’Twas the beauty of the moment with sacred vows and vows of love forever she thought, as she dabbed her eyes. As they left the chapel, she caught Sir Geoffrey watching her and wondered if he thought her foolish again, this time for being so sentimental.
After sating her hunger, Heather moseyed over to a bench in the far corner to sit and enjoy those dancing while others still feasted on foods and sweet treats. She saw Sir Geoffrey coming toward her. He wore a dark green tunic, black hose with high black boots, and was more handsome than he any mon should be. Her unruly pulse kicked up a wee bit. And Lord, if he did no’ swagger! She had no discipline, though she should know far better.
He stopped in front of her, holding a tankard of ale. “Would you care to join the others for the next song?”
“I thank ye, but I can no’ do such fast dances. Actually, I have never attempted any type of dance.” She did feel foolish this time, and far more than embarrassed.
He neither smiled nor frowned. “Would you mind if I joined you on the bench?”
“Not at all, Sir Geoffrey.” Lord, but she felt awkward. And God’s truth, to her horror, almost tongue-tied. She, Heather Douglas!
He sat down not inches from her, set his tankard on the floor and turned to face her. “Please, not so formal with the ‘sir’. Call me Geoffrey, or Geoff, as all my friends do. This one and the line dances are a somewhat fast. Is it your foot that you fear will give you problems?”
He be so nonchalant that she answered with ease. “Aye, me left foot be two inches shorter than me right. I can walk, and even run some with a tip, hitch, or a hobble—but I fear if I dance too fast I might topple. ’Tis lovely to watch the others.”
He joined her in watching. Several minutes passed.
“I had a dog once,” he said, scanning the crowd. “I have a sister, too. When she was young, her feet grew so fast and so big that she was awkward and clumsy. She loved music and practiced dancing for when she became old enough to attend dances, but mostly to learn to not trip over her big feet. She would take our dog, hold onto his front paws, put his back paws on top of hers, and they would dance. My brothers and I thought she was crazy. It taught her to walk so she was not so awkward, and she could dance fairly well.”
“Ye think I should have kept the little guy the other day so I could practice dancing?” She failed to withhold a giggle.
He looked her in the eye. “No, I think we should wait for one of the slower dances. It has been a while, but I think it is called the La Spagna. Do you know it?”
She shook her head.
“You partner, lady to the right, the man to the left. You join right hands, turn to each other, step back one step, drop hands, take one step toward each other, then face forward side by side. Then you repeat. Quite simple.”
“Ye know it well.” She smiled up at him though it hurt to think of the many lovely ladies he had danced with.
“I practiced with my sister for years to help her. Would you allow me a dance to see if you could follow me? I—” He held up a hand to stop her. “I would have you place your left foot on top of my right. When it is time for you to move back and then toward me, I would be the one moving our feet. It could be done.”
She hesitated, longing to try. To be holding his hand, dancing with him. She should say no, but oh, she longed to—
“I would never allow you to fall, or to cause you embarrassment.”
“Why?” She glanced up and met his gaze. She could sink into those dark depths so easily.
“Maybe because you like my horse so much. Maybe to say thank you for saving that dog and teaching those boys a lesson. Just dance with me. One time is all I ask. We are friends, are we not?”
Friends. The word bit like a dagger in the chest for they could never be more. It made her heart sing to know he respected her for what and who she be, and he accepted her with her flaws and faults.
“I should know better, but the nuns be right. I can no’ help taking dares and chances. I will dance with ye, but be warned.”
They did not have long to wait before a slower song was played. He took her hand and led her a short distance out onto the floor. She was pleased so many others were out there, so hopefully no one would notice them.
She took her place to his right; he took her right hand within his. Such a large hand with such a solid grip felt foreign…and marvelous. His closeness, his manly scent, nearly made her sigh out loud. She never wanted this night to end. The music began.
• ♥ •
When they turned to face each other, he slid his right booted foot under her left shoe and allowed her to take a step while he tended to lean back on his left foot. Then, he drew his right foot back to him while hers followed on top. It was a bit awkward, but they managed to keep with the music. Over and over again, they repeated the maneuvers.
Her smile was worth all the king’s gold. Her light laughter arrowed straight toward the vicinity of his heart. She was a pure delight. He tried to remember the last time he had had so much enjoyment. As the song drew to an end, her foot slipped off his boot. She started to topple to the right. He caught her by her shoulders and pulled her tight against his chest.
With eyes as round as the full moon, she gazed up at him with first shock, then horror. She burst out laughing. He joined her, while awareness of her warm soft body with its gentle curves against him so enticingly nearly sent him to his knees.
She shook her pretty head and a fresh, clean scent something like springtime invaded his senses. She was lovely in her green bliaut. She wore no jewelry, no adornments. She did not need them. He stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts. He cleared his throat.
Those immediately surrounding them obviously had witnessed the mishap and joined in with their merriment by clapping their approval. They managed to have some dignity as they returned to their seats. He poured her water and retrieved another tankard of ale while they caught their breath.
• ♥ •
“Thank ye, though I should be apologizing.”
“For the water?”
“Do stop. Ye know I mean for the dance, though I did muck it up a wee bit. I do thank ye, too, for the water. I need it.” She took a long sip and gazed at his smile over the rim. How many times in the past few days had she heard him laugh, or smile? More than she had expected. He be no’ such a gruff man, maybe just serious and hardened by playing warfare most of the time. She knew he be known as a jokester with the men. She also knew he did no’ pay attention to many of the ladies whether talking or laughing. His whole life revolved around being a warrior.
“Both were my pleasure. And you did not muck anything up. We almost did the entire dance. I think that is an accomplishment, do you not?” He gazed at her without expression.
“Aye.” She turned to watch the dancers.
Ahna and Royce along with several others made their way to join them at the sidelines. They all chatted, then said good night. Heather hated to end the evening. Her dreams of being held in his arms for those precious moments would keep her in a blissful sleep all night. Despite his powerful strength, he had held her gently. He did no’ necessarily feel anything other than extending chivalry. The realization had her wishing for more.
She should be happy and thankful they be becoming friends and value it for what it be. She needed to avoid further close contact. A girl could get too used to such a thing. He may think her foolish, but she be no fool to believe she could find a place in his heart.
Maybe it be a good thing he would be leaving in the morning with Royce and others to try to talk truce between the Melville and Hamilton clans. Another feud had broken out, and each time, they became worse. Royce hoped to try to maintain some kind of peace between the two. She would do fine while Geoffrey be gone. Aye, she would gather her wits, have her feet on the ground, and her head on straight when he returned.