TAKING A RISK
“Sean,” Camden whispered urgently. They were in the hallway just beyond the Great Hall. The place was dark with dusky grays and mauve, the light from a distant torch flaring on the mail shirt of a guardsman by the door.
“Whist,” Sean whispered back. “Stop acting suspicious. No one'll know you're not supposed to be here. Be natural.”
Camden sighed. Easy to say, “Be natural”. He felt so far from natural it was unbelievable, what with a borrowed tunic in rich blue, trews that clung to his legs and an elegant doublet of worked velvet completing the ensemble.
“Sean..?”
“What?”
There was no time to articulate what a bad idea this was. They reached the door.
He halted in the face of the guardsman. A sturdy fellow with massive shoulders and a cross face, Camden didn't much fancy the idea of facing him armed. Or unarmed. He drew in a breath and composed some suitable explanation for who they were and why they were trying to sneak into the court's first ball.
It wasn't needed.
“Weapons?” the guard asked. Camden stared at him.
“Beg your pardon?”
The guard looked at him. The inscrutable face shifted, conveying displeasure with a fractional tilt of the eyebrow.
“Your weapons, my lord. No swords, daggers or knives permitted in the hall,” he explained with long-suffering patience.
“Oh! Of course.” Camden quickly unclasped his belt, which supported a long dagger about the length of his forearm. He handed it over somewhat reluctantly. The guard sighed. Looked over his shoulder.
“You too, sir?” he addressed Sean.
“Of course.” Sean had already taken his dagger out of its place and handed it over graciously. He rolled his eyes at Camden.
“What were you hesitating for?” he inquired. “Trying to make sure the man keeps an eye on us?”
“Whist, man,” Camden sighed. “I need to gather my wits.”
He could almost hear Sean thinking some quip about that being difficult when he had none. He let out a long sigh, stood at the edge of the room, uncomfortable in his borrowed clothes. He surveyed the scene.
The royal court of Edinburgh spread out before him. A tapestry of fine velvet and linen, rich colors and the flicker of flame light, the place shimmered with a beautiful excitement. He swallowed hard, feeling a flutter in his belly.
Where was she?
Camden let his eyes roam the hall. He felt nervous and out of place. He had never been to a ball before. His own father rarely entertained. They would have a gathering at the fortress once a year, all dour uncles and quiet aunts, maybe a piper or two to play a reel. This was entirely different.
There were, for a start, so many people in the vast, vaulted expanse that Camden didn't even try to count them. This company was also anything but dour and quiet. Standing on the edge of the room he felt as if he watched a flock of birds. Ladies chatted, men laughed and servants moved through the group with goblets of boiled ale or something stronger. The air smelled of fine delicacies and the sweet, spicy scent of unguents.
His body ached with the need to see Rubina. He looked about the vast, confusing space again. He thought he saw something.
There! The glimpse of dark red hair.
He went toward it then, five paces off, he stopped. Then he stared.
In a long brown dress, the velvet rich and soft, her sweet curves showing to perfection, pale skin offset, there she was. He drank in the impossible loveliness.
As he watched, she turned and looked at him. She had been talking to a tall, lanky courtier. Her eyes drifted over Camden, then paused. Came back. Stopped.
He saw her say something to the man she spoke to and then, a moment later, when he moved on, she turned to him.
Her face flushed, her eyes warmed, and she smiled.
“It isn't you!” she grinned. “My eyes lie.”
He bowed extravagantly. Maybe it was the courtly clothes, or maybe just her presence. However, suddenly, he felt every inch the gallant.
“Your eyes see true.”
She giggled. “My lord! I...it's a pleasure to see you here.”
He smiled. “The pleasure is all mine.”
She grinned and suddenly it seemed as if it were just them. The ball melted away. He felt the neck of his tunic grow too tight as he stared at her and he loosened it with a finger, coughing softly.
“My lady,” he said. “I am...you look...remarkable.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
They looked at each other and it seemed like neither of them could tear their gaze away.
“You look wonderful too,” she said softly. “I must say, I...I've never seen you dressed like this.”
“My lady, you are not alone,” he grinned. “I too am astonished.”
They both chuckled fondly.
“It becomes you,” she said. The sound of her voice was so sweet and warm that his whole body throbbed with a sudden longing.
“I am glad,” he managed to say. Whist, why was his throat so blocked? Again, he tried to loosen the collar of his doublet, making it easier to breathe.
They looked at each other again and he felt himself lean forward, his lips drawn to the sweet dark luscious ones. He tensed, drawing back. His position here as an unwelcome guest was perilous enough without compounding it.
At that moment a violin sounded a sweet, lilting refrain. He raised a brow. Crooked his arm.
“My lady?” he asked gallantly. “Shall we dance?”
Rubina smiled warmly. “Of course, sir.”
They walked, arm in arm, to the dance floor.
There, Camden took a place opposite her. He stared, drinking in her complete loveliness. Her hair shimmered in the flame light, the pearl-white skin of her cleavage glowing in the low-cut neck. He ached to reach out and touch her.
Then, the music was starting. He glanced quickly to his right, watching what the man beside him was doing. With a fervent hope that he could remember anything at all from the rudimentary instruction in dance he'd received, he sallied out.
“That way,” Rubina whispered as he reached her.
“What?”
“Step left.”
He felt himself go red and stepped hastily to his left as another gentleman came and stood beside him, his hand, Rubina's, the gentleman and the lady beside her all joining to form an arch between them. The quatrain was a dance for four people, easily one of the hardest courtly measures to enact.
Gripping his lip in his teeth in a grimace of conversation, Camden counted in his head. One, two three. Back. One, two, three, Up. Now to the side, and...Left, two three...
After a moment, he felt the tension ease. He was doing it! He floated beside Rubina and it seemed, just then, like only they were present. He held her hand in his and the music wove round them, making a net that bound him to her flowing, lilting form.
They were standing still, eyes fixed on each other, when Camden realized with a jolt of surprise the dance ended.
He blinked in amazement, looking about as the rest of the couples bowed and left the floor. He cleared his throat and stepped back, bowing.
Rubina bobbed a curtsy. Still they stood.
“My lord?”
Camden shook himself and nodded. “Uh, my lady. Yes.” He followed her off the floor and into the hall.
When they had melted back into the crowd again, Rubina looked up at him with a solemn expression on her lovely face.
“You dance very well,” she told him.
Camden chuckled, a wry smile curving his well-carved lips. “I do?”
“Indeed,” Rubina murmured. “Very well.”
“You are as graceful as you're beautiful,” Camden murmured. He surprised himself with his poetic bent. She went red.
“My lord is too kind.”
He smiled. She smiled back and their eyes met. They were on the edge of the crowd and Camden felt her shift, saw her eyes go sideways just as his own did. He squeezed her hand. Without having to say it, they walked out of the hall and into the grounds outside.
Outside, the air was warm and smelt of dust and, more distantly, of dew. The sky was sapphire and, somewhere, the first stars shone out.
“A lovely evening,” Camden murmured. His pulse was shivering and his throat had closed. He was so, so nervous.
“It is,” she said softly. She was standing just in front of him, the muted light shivering down the length of that flame-colored hair.
Camden drew in a breath. Struggling to control himself, to make his motion slow and regular, he reached out and stroked her hair. It was spun silk under his hand. He inhaled, gasping, and felt his loins ache painfully.
Rubina smiled up at him from below the fall of hair. She turned and placed a soft hand on his shoulder. Looked up into his eyes. He shuddered.
“Rubina...” he murmured.
She leaned forward. He did too and his lips met hers.
He held her close, feeling his body respond and the wildfire of longing roar through his veins, overwhelming. He drew her to his chest and kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her with wild, passionate urgency.
She gasped and her arms wrapped round him and they stood there, her held tight against him, his lips plying hers.
When they moved apart, her eyes were hazy with longing. The look in them matched his own feeling so exactly that Camden had to make fists of his hands to prevent reaching out to grasp her.
“My lady,” he gulped. “We should not. We ought to...” he shook his head. He wanted to say that they shouldn't do this; that they should go back. That he ought to walk inside before he did something extreme that they might both regret.
No words came.
She looked up at him, brown eyes sad.
“I know,” she murmured. “We shouldn't do this.” She bit her lip, those small white teeth twisting it in a way that made his loins thrust with desire.
“My lady. I should go,” he said insistently. She nodded.
“We should go inside.”
He stood back for her, wordless, as she slipped in front of him and headed into the hall.
When they reached it, the murmur of conversing had increased. He breathed in, noticing the scents of dinner had increased somewhat, too. His stomach clenched with a more immediate sort of longing.
“Are you hungry?”
She grinned. “I am.”
He took a shuddering breath. With the candlelight reflecting in her gaze, she looked so beautiful that he couldn't resist gently leaning in to kiss her cheek. She blushed.
“One more dance?”
He swallowed, apprehension knotting his insides. “Only if it's not difficult.”
She stared at him, cheeks twitching as she tried not to smile. She couldn't help it, clearly. A big grin escaped. They both started laughing. A few courtiers looked in their direction, casting suspicious glances their way. They paid them no mind.
“That wasn't so hard, was it?” Rubina asked, shoulders lifting with mirth.
“My lady, it was frightening.”
She started laughing again and he laughed too.
“I promise,” she said, sighing as the mirth retreated, “that the next dance won't be so hard.”
“You do?” he asked, one brow twisted in a teasing expression,
“I do promise.”
“Good.”
They danced a roundelay, which wasn't as hard. Again, it felt as though it was just the two of them there on the floor as he lost himself in her eyes.
At the edge of the ballroom there was a space where no one yet stood and they headed there without discussing it. Camden stood beside her, breathing in the floral scent of her, and realized he had to ask a question that was bothering him.
“My lady?”
“Yes?”
She was holding a pewter drinking cup and the cordial in it had wet her lips, sticky and delicious. Camden's whole body fought the urge to lick it up. He closed his hands into fists, ruthlessly focusing his mind.
“My lady? You...when does your party leave Court?”
He saw her close her eyes as if she staved off a bad thought. “Next week,” she murmured softly. He let out a ragged sigh of relief.
“Whew.”
She frowned. “Why, sir?”
“Well,” he smiled, lips twitching in amusement at his own eagerness, “the good physician said I should mayhap remain here a week further.”
“Oh.”
She didn't say any more, but the way she said it let him know she was pleased. Almost as pleased, it seemed, as I was.
“You know,” he began slowly. He stopped, not sure if he should complete that thought.
“Yes...what?”
“I am so glad I had my ribs broken.”
She giggled, a happy, delighted sound. She toasted him in cordial.
“I am too, sir.”
They both laughed.
As the music died away, the master of ceremonies came out to announce that dinner was served. Camden felt a moment of panic.
“What?” Rubina asked, frowning up inquisitively. “You look troubled.”
“I'm not supposed to be here. There'll be no place for me.” His voice was tight.
Her face fell a second, and then she smiled again.
“There's always places on the benches. Will you join us?”
“What?” Camden felt his heart skip a beat.
“Will you join us at the high table?” Rubina asked, eyes dancing with mischievous fun. Camden gulped. If he did, he'd be seated with dukes, earls and thanes. I don't think we could do that. Besides, he didn't want to make anyone be angry with her.
“My lady...I shouldn't. I...”
At that moment, he felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped, ready to defend himself against the big, inscrutable doorman. He found himself staring at Sean.
“What the..?”
Sean laughed softly. “Camden? What's the matter?”
“Whew,” Camden breathed out, relieved. “I thought you were someone else.”
“I should think so,” Sean said, smiling. “I'd wonder at you jumping like that at me. Come on.”
“Come on where?”
“There's place at that table over there. Lord Aberfirth and his lady couldn't attend today. We'll sit where they were. Milady suggested so.”
“Oh?”
Camden felt relieved. He glanced at the table his friend suggested. The two seats afforded a clear view of the high table and he could just spot the dark haired lady who was Rubina's mother. He nodded.
“We'll go, then.” He turned to Rubina. She nodded.
“I understand,” she said softly.
“Thank you.”
He bowed and took her hand. Just holding it made his heart grow tight and his body grow hot. He let go reluctantly and went with Sean.
Their place at one of the lesser tables was comfortable and safer. From here Camden could clearly see Rubina's sleek-haired head, watch her as she lifted her goblet and drank to some oath. She licked her lips and he had to shut his eyes.
I think I will die of longing for that woman.
“Hey, Camden?” a voice said harshly. He jumped.
“What, Sean?”
“I'm glad we came along.”
Camden nodded. His heart was racing with a mix of apprehension and hopeless arousal. His tongue was bruised with her kisses. His body ached with longing. However, he was so, so glad.
“I am too.”
Sean chuckled. “For a happy fellow, you certainly look worried.”
Camden pulled a face. Then he grinned. “You're right, Sean. I think too hard.”
“You do,” Sean agreed. “Feed me, take me out dancing and I'm content not to think at all.”
Camden chuckled warmly. Someone had filled his goblet and he lifted it, letting it click with a gentle resonance against his friend's own. “I think,” he said smiling, “that's a sensible way to live.”
Sean lifted his glass and drank, saluting him. “It works for me.”
They laughed.
The music filled the hall, swelling with the sound of laughter, the click of glasses and salvers and the warmth of firelight. Whether or not the place was on the cusp of war, Camden thought, leaning back in the seat, comfortable in his borrowed doublet and trews, for the moment everything was just right.
His eye lingered on the red gleam of Rubina's long hair. He watched her and in that moment she caught his glance. Her eyes locked with his.
He raised his glass, a surreptitious gesture.
She went red. Then, to his surprise, she reached for hers. Raised it and drank.
He closed his eyes and drank a big sip, letting the rich claret warm his throat. It felt solemn, like an oath. Like a promise. Whatever happened, that would endure lifelong.