The Gorgon (30 page)

Swallowing hard, Summer wrung her
hands in unconscious apprehension. "I-I... t-that is, we've done
n-n-nothing but speak, S-Stephan. S-S-Sir Bose has been a perfect
g-gentleman."

Bose sighed sadly, noting the
strong return of her stammer where for the past several minutes the habit had
been virtually forgotten.

"I was just leaving,
Stephan," Bose said quietly, eyeing Lance and Ian. Ian seemed remarkably
composed whereas a drunken Lance was torn between concentrating on his scowl
and making certain he remained upright long enough to ensure his sister's
reputation. "I simply escorted my lady to her chamber and was preparing to
bid her a good sleep."

Truthfully, Stephan did not seem
overly furious that his sister had been found in a compromising position with
her future husband. If anything, he seemed to be enforcing the strict code of
chivalry and morality simply because, true to his words, his sister was
technically still an unwed maiden. Since the moment Summer and Bose were seen
entering the keep in one another arm's, the rumors had been flying fast and
furious and Stephan, newly returned from his rendezvous with his wife, had
collected his brothers and moved to correct the potentially damaging situation.

"So you have managed to
solicit a betrothal contract out of my father," Stephan’s voice was quiet.
Approving, even. "Ian told me of his reluctance in granting your request.
Rest assured that I shall speak with him come the morn, when his alcohol has
evaporated and his mind is sane once more."

Bose bowed his head slightly.
"Your assistance would be tremendously appreciated, Stephan."

Stephan simply nodded, returning
his focus to his sister. He softened. "Congratulations, sweetheart. You'll
make a fine wife."

She smiled timidly."T-Thank
you for your support, S-Stephan,” she said softly. “However, there seems to be
a problem already; B-Bose does not like the name Kermit."

The statement brought a laugh
from Ian and a belated chuckle from Lance, once he realized through his drunken
haze what had been said. Stephan smiled broadly, casting Bose a long gaze.

"Poor man. I have a feeling
he will agree to your demands regardless of his personal opinion," when
Bose shrugged weakly, a glimmer of mirth in his eyes, Stephan's own smile faded
as the reality of the situation once again came to bear; certainly, he had no
intention of leaving the couple as he had found them. For appearance sake, it
was best that Bose retreat for the evening. "As you can see, my lord, my
sister has safely reached her bedchamber and is eager to retire. I thank you
for your escort, but your presence is no longer required."

Realizing that he was being
dismissed, Bose again nodded faintly and looked to Summer, her golden gaze warm
and tender. Reluctant to leave her but knowing it was best, he moved quietly
for the door. In the archway, however, he paused, once again meeting Stephan's
brilliant green orbs.

The silent words of approval and
understanding were unmistakable. Stephan had as much as voiced his approval and
Ian had all but forced Edward to accept Bose’s marriage request. Slowly but
surely, the du Bonne brothers were accepting him for their sister. Four years
of rumors and vicious lies notwithstanding, Bose was pleased to realize that
the truth had finally triumphed.

"Good eve to you,
Stephan," he said steadily. "Lance, I would suggest you retire
immediately lest you provide Tate with a supreme opportunity for victory come
the morrow. And Ian...," when the largest du Bonne brother met his gaze,
something of a faint smile playing upon his lips, Bose smiled in return.
"I will see you on the morrow as well. The second round, I believe."

"I shall be ready, my
lord," Ian replied as if he held no fear of the man and his talents.

Bose held his gaze a moment, a
knowing smirk on his lips, when Summer suddenly moved into his line of sight.
Putting her arm about Ian's waist, she looked to Bose with an imploring
expression.

"Mayhap you should consider
allowing Ian to emerge triumphant on the morrow, Bose," she said
seriously, nary a stammer to her speech. "After all, had it not been for
my brother, you and I would not be betrothed."

A perfectly executed sentence. As
the trio of brothers looked to their baby sister in astonishment, Bose merely
smiled. "Indeed, my lady, I completely agree with the latter portion of
your statement. As for the first," he tore his gaze away from her long enough
to look at Ian. "I shall have to think of another way to thank your
brother for his support, considering I promised you I would win the
joust."

Summer returned his smile.
"As you say, my lord."

Before Bose could reply, Lance
staggered before his sister, weaving dangerously."Summer!" he gasped.
"You... you did not stutter at all!"

She looked to him as if his
notation hardly warranted consideration. "Indeed, Lance. What did you
think Bose and I were d-doing in my chamber, hidden away from the world? He was
helping me with my speech. I'll become better, with practice."

Stephan, his mouth open with
incredulity, moved to stand beside his drunk, equally amazed brother. "He
was helping you?" he repeated, baffled and delighted and utterly
awed. "I do not understand. By what magic did he do this?"

Lingering by the door, Bose
endeavored to enter the conversation. "No magic, Stephan. With a good deal
of patience and encouragement, anything can happen." Winking to Summer
when she met his glittering gaze, he moved to quit the chamber. "Good
sleep to you, love. I'll see you on the morrow."

He was gone, leaving three
puzzled but delighted men and one besotted lady and all of them believing that
the Gorgon, indeed, could conjure his own private magic.

***

"You have interrupted my
sleep this night to rehash old rumors and hearsay that I am already well aware
of?" he questioned the red-headed knight with a good deal of annoyance,
his head aching and his vision swimming. "I allowed you into my chamber
based on your declaration of an emergency regarding my daughter. If you
consider a betrothal to Bose de Moray an emergency, then vacate my chamber at
once and stop wasting my time."

Breck and Margot stood
respectfully in Edward’s lavish bower. Breck struggled not to rant or shout in
the face of the drunken baron but if he was to accomplish his goal this night,
then it was essential that he remain calm. God's Blood, his scheme was coming
together with such grace and blessing that he could scarcely believe he had
reached his final obstacle, ultimately able to confront Edward du Bonne and
plea for his daughter's hand. And with the support of Lady de Ville, he had
little doubt that morn would see him a pledged man. But the necessity to remain
calm was imperative if he wanted to achieve his intent.

"You do not seem to realize
the seriousness of the situation, my lord," he said steadily. "Bose
de Moray is a murderer. Somehow, he has managed to convince your daughter and
your sons of his innocence, but I can prove without a doubt that he did indeed
kill his wife. Do you desire your daughter to become another victim of his
murderous character?"

Edward snorted, spraying spittle
from his thick lips. "She shall not become a victim. Stephan and Ian are
quite convinced of de Moray's innocence and I have complete faith in my sons'
judgment. Now, if you will excuse me...."

"Bose is a silver-tongued
devil, my lord, quite capable of persuading the most intelligent of men." Margot
entered the conversation and when Edward looked at her, she bowed her head
respectfully. "I am the Lady Margot de Ville. My daughter was married to
Bose de Moray, and four years ago almost to the day he took her life in violent
burst of blood and agony. If you do not want your daughter to meet with the
same brutal end, then I suggest you listen to Sir Breck."

For the first time since the
arrival of his unwelcome visitors, Edward's disinterest in the dialogue
faltered. Scratching the flea bites on his neck, he focused on the
frail-appearing lady with a mounting sense of morbid curiosity.

"I was told she died in
childbirth," his tone was considerably less strained.

Margot smiled thinly. "A
convenient title for a mortal mistake. I saw my daughter's body, my lord, and
you will believe me when I say mere childbirth could not have wrought the scope
of damage I witnessed. She was torn asunder, destroyed by a man who has little
regard for the value of life. Surely you do not wish for your daughter to
succumb to the same torment."

Edward maintained as steady a
focus as he was able through his alcohol-induced state, absorbing the woman's
words with increasing distress. Always particularly pliable to the suggestions
and motives of others, it was natural to find himself willing to listen to her sincere
reasoning. In fact, he had always found it most comforting to have others form
his opinions and decisions for him. This night was no exception.

The dirty nails scratching his
neck moved to his chin. "Of course I do not want my daughter to meet with
her death. But she will be another man's wife to do with as he pleases and if
the death of his wife is his preference, then so be it."

Breck's brow furrowed slightly;
even he found himself curious at the callous reference to something as fragile
as a woman's life. For a man who was supposed to have sired a particularly
beautiful, if not flawed, woman, the baron certainly lacked the usual fatherly.
For the first time during the conversation, Breck found himself wondering if
the argument presented would prove to be persuasive enough to force the man to
recant his verbal betrothal with de Moray.

Margot, however, was undeterred
by Edward's attitude. Being a wise, instinctive woman, she could sense a great
deal of indifference from the baron with regard to his daughter, a woman with a
disturbing flaw and little marital value. But she could also sense a
feeble-willed, foolish man who seemed to be easily swayed. And it was that
portion of the man, the frail-minded, spineless idiot that she intended to
target.

There was a small chair opposite
the baron's position. Moving forward, Margot deposited herself neatly upon the
embroidered silk. Hands folded primly, she pondered her next move.

"Since you obviously care
not for your daughter's well-being at the hands of a murderous fiend, then
allow me to present a different aspect to the situation," taking a deep,
delicate breath, she maintained steady, convincing eye-contact. "Suppose
you allow your daughter to marry Sir Bose and she inevitably meets her end as I
say she will. Have you considered how your friends and allies will look upon
you, having knowingly allowed your daughter to enter into a less than desirable
situation? They will not think kindly of your carelessness, my lord."

Edward, not surprisingly, was
listening to her. "They... they will believe me negligent? Foolish,
even?"

Seeing the man's interest peaked,
Margot realized she had hit upon a strong ideal and she endeavored to continue
before the baron had a chance to question her reasoning. "Indeed, my lord.
They will whisper behind your back, speaking harshly of the senseless father
who had been too blind and too witless to see beyond de Moray's facade when all
who have ever been acquainted with the man know of his sinister reputation.
Without a doubt, you'll be made the laughing stock of Dorset."

Margot was pleased to note the
deep furrowing of Edward's bushy brow, the faint flush mottling his ears.
Shifting in his chair with mounting discomfort, he opened his robe somewhat because
he was beginning to sweat.

"I...I had never considered
such an aspect," he said finally, his tone weak and sincere. "My only
thoughts, of course, are to marry my daughter to a wealthy and powerful knight.
Certainly, I never thought I'd be rid of the girl considering her flawed
speech. Mayhap... mayhap the excitement of her first true suitor has shadowed
my judgment."

Margot nodded sympathetically,
her expression as cold as ice. "Of course, my lord. Your reaction was
completely understandable. And your sons, too."

"My sons?"

She nodded firmly.
"Certainly they believe as you do. Never imagining that their defective
sister would find a husband, they agreed upon the first man who showed a
measure of interest. And they eagerly believed his lies because of their desire
to see their sister wed."

After a lengthy, contemplative
pause, Edward slowly shook his head. "I cannot see that their desire to
see Summer wed would override their judgment. Especially Stephan's. The man is
exceedingly intelligent and introspective."

Margot's gaze was even as she
digested his words, coming to suspect that the baron relied heavily upon his
eldest son's discretion. From the clues delivered throughout the conversation
and from the obvious weak-minded stance of the nobleman slouched before her, it
was logical to conclude that the baron did not make his own decisions. Someone
made them for him. At this moment, that someone would be Margot.

"I am sure he is, my lord,
but even a wise man can be fooled by a clever opportunist," she replied
softly. "Bose is such a man. I assume that your daughter will come with a
substantial dowry?"