The Gorgon (31 page)

Edward stared at her blankly a
moment, as if he had never considered the very idea. After a pause, he nodded
unsteadily. "I... I will provide her with a good dowry, of course."

"And Bose is well aware of
the fact. By selecting the imperfect daughter of a wealthy baron, he is assured
of your eager response to his marital petition, thereby guaranteeing him a
substantial inheritance. After your daughter falls victim to an unfortunate
'accident', he will simply move on to the next hapless woman and collect her
dowry, too."

Edward's features relaxed with
the naked truth of understanding, seeing the lady's logic quite clearly.
"So he seeks to obtain my wealth!"

"Indeed. And the entire
province will look to you as a fool for providing it so freely."

Beads of sweat peppered Edward's
brow, the true focus of Bose de Moray's scheme coming to bear. Of course! Great
Gods, why hadn't he seen it earlier? For certain, there was no other reason why
a man of Bose de Moray's standing and power would pursue a flawed woman other
than the fact she was directly related to a good deal of wealth. Wealth de
Moray desired.

Wealth he would have the moment
he married Summer. Edward found himself thinking of his sons, wondering why
they had been so naive to the man's terrible scheme. They professed to love
Summer; if so, why had they been so entirely eager to marry her to a man whose
true desire was to claim her sizable dowry? Even if de Moray had been able to
convince him of his proper intentions, still, Edward wondered seriously why
Stephan hadn't seen through the facade.

Lost in his train of thought,
Edward was nonetheless aware of Margot's patient presence and Breck's fidgeting
silence. Drawn from his deliberation, he wiped at his moist brown and focused
intently on the lady's pale blue eyes.

"I appreciate your candor
and wisdom, my lady, in helping me to see the truth of the matter,"
clearing his throat, he once again shifted listlessly in his chair. "My
greatest fear now is how to properly break the betrothal contract between my
daughter and de Moray without incurring the involvement of the church."

Breck, his agitated movements
quelled with the encouraging response, fought the urge to sink to his knees and
thank God for his mercy. Unable to keep the smile from his face, his glee and
triumph was instantly quelled by a withering expression from Margot.

Restraint, young Kerry.
Margot's silent demand went
properly heeded and when she was positive Breck was not going to break out in a
dance of victory, she returned her attention to Edward with her customary
composure.

"Allow me to see the
contract, my lord. Mayhap there is a provision providing for the annulment of
the contract should either party find fault or discomfort with the
proposal."

Edward shook his head.
"There is no written contract. My permission was verbal, in the presence
of a witness."

Margot struggled not to smile
herself with the baron's weary, witless response. "Then the contract is
not binding in the least. Unless your sanction has been put to paper, the
church cannot involve itself because a verbal contract is not considered
legally valid," passing a long glance at Breck, she continued with careful
consideration. "If I may suggest, my lord, in order to avoid a good deal
of trouble and crisis on the part of de Moray, I would like to propose that you
immediately betroth your daughter to another knight to permanently remove her
from de Moray's grasp. Surely the man cannot compare his verbal consent to a
legally binding and written document."

Edward's gaze was distant,
pensive, as he seriously considered Margot's suggestion. As Breck loomed into
view, far more sedate than he had been only moments before, Edward's attention
shifted to the pimple-faced knight and, suddenly, an expression of
understanding creased his aging face.

"You, Kerry?" It was a
question as well as a declaration. "You've shown a good deal of interest
in my daughter. Would you be willing to marry her were I to provide her with a
tremendously attractive dowry?"

A faint smirk played upon Breck's
lips; he simply could not help himself. For all of the pain and humiliation,
planning and strategies were finally coming to a positive conclusion and he
could hardly believe his fortune. There was more than one way to defeat a Gorgon.

"'Twould be my pleasure to
accept your daughter's hand, my lord," Breck hoped his quaking voice did
not bely his excitement and disbelief. "In fact, the sooner we are wed,
the better for all concern. The sooner de Moray will lose interest."

"Indeed," Edward rose
unsteadily from his chair, weaving dangerously as he stumbled to the chamber
door. Opening the panel, he ordered one of his soldiers to summon a lesser
steward. Summer, of course, was his chief steward, taking care of the affairs
of estate and handling scribing duties since Kermit's death. Edward was
positive, however, this was one scribing duty she would most definitely reject.

When the soldier fled down the
hall, Edward closed the door and staggered heavily toward a crystal carafe
filled with wine. Pouring himself a healthy draught, he swallowed half the
goblet before returning his attention to the two successful conspirators.

"I shall have the contracts
drawn up tonight and witnessed," he said, his voice hoarse with fatigue
and emotion. Taking another swallow, he smacked his lips loudly and fixed
Margot in the eye. "I'll not allow Bose de Moray to murder my daughter and
make me the laughing stock. You were most gracious to supply your reasoning
this night. And I thank you as well, Sir Breck, for being most clear-headed and
persistent in your opinion."

Neither Margot nor Breck replied
to Edward's heart-felt thanks, repressing the urge to look to each other in
triumph and glee. It was as good as they had hoped for and better. By tomorrow,
Breck would be legally bound to Lady Summer and Bose, disheartened and spurned,
would be forced to return to Ravendark empty-handed and defeated. Returning to
Lora's memory where he belonged.

Edward lost himself in his wine.
Without asking or without invitation, Margot confiscated a second pewter
chalice to match the baron's and joined him in his liquor as Breck stood
silently by, contemplating his unbelievably good fortune.

Once and for all, the Gorgon
would be vanquished.

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

Bose was not afforded the opportunity
of escorting Summer to the lists the next morning. Rain, mists, damp winds and
all, she and Genisa were planted in the assigned du Bonne box just after
sunrise, eagerly awaiting the commencement of the joust. The three du Bonne
brothers had escorted the anxious ladies to the field, convinced the women
would proceed without them or not.

 Therefore, dressing hurriedly
and with varied degrees of alcohol-induced aching heads, Stephan, Ian and an
ill-looking Lance were the first contenders to arrive at the lists. Even the
heralds, immaculately dressed in du Bonne red and white, were tardy as compared
with their liege's sons.

In spite of the excitement
surrounding the last phase of the jousting competition, the dawning day had
emerged dank and stormy. A nasty squall had blown in over the course of the
night, wreaking havoc on the tents converged near the lists and raining muck
and misery on the unfortunate occupants. Several knights, with their tents
collapsed by the harsh winds, had found refuge in the grand hall of Chaldon.

Summer did not care about the
weather. She did not care that the lodges had been somewhat damaged by the
bitter winds or that even as she sat upon her sturdy chair clad in amber silk
and brown rabbit, the ensuing winds hurling off the stark Dorset coast were
enough to set her teeth to chattering. All that mattered on this glorious day
was that Bose would win the joust, and she, as his betrothed, would be
permitted to publicly award his victory.

A victory that would come at the
price of her three brothers; Summer tried not to linger on that single most
disturbing fact. Even as Stephan and Ian and Lance set to a round of early
practice against several sturdy dummies secured to the joust barrier, Summer
applauded loudly for them as if she was truly supportive of their endeavor.
Stephan bowed gratefully to her praise, Ian staunchly ignored her, while Lance
tried to yell at her but found the action far too painful with his aching head.
Grumbling and cursing, he simply shook his fist at her.

Bose had made his presence known
shortly after Summer's arrival to the field. Astride his great charcoal
charger, he had reined his frothing beast alongside the raised platform and
proceeded to deliver the tenderest of kisses to Summer's gloved hand. As Genisa
watched in smirking silence, Bose removed the gloves and kissed every finger on
Summer's warm, delicate hands, igniting a fire in her cheeks that had yet to
abate.

A fire of pride and delight she
took great pleasure in as the lists filled with the competitors that would duel
to the finish for honor and glory. The lodges rapidly filled with spectators,
ill with the previous evening's overindulgence yet utterly excited for the
conclusion of the joust. As the wind howled and the mist turned into a driving rain,
the crowd in the lodges grew vocal with their demands to commence the games.

Summer and Genisa were deeply
involved in every aspect of the practice bouts and Summer listened intently to
her sister-in-law's knowledge of the sport. Regardless of her original opinion
of the tournament, the fact that she was now betrothed to Bose de Moray brought
about an entirely different aspect to her convictions. Certainly, the man was
to be her husband and it was only right that she know and appreciate his chosen
profession.

The fact that time and experience
had eased her earliest view on the games was a contributing factor, too. Aye,
the melee was a horrid display of brutality and blood, but it was also a grand
spectacle of skill and strength. And the joust, as shocking and vicious as it
could be, was also a tremendous exhibition of power and talent. True, she was
still uneasy with the experience of her first tournament. But she was learning
to love it, too.

Especially when Bose was on the
field as he was at this moment. Summer watched him like a hawk, noticing that
he hardly used his reins to guide the charger, using pressure from his thighs
instead to direct his temperamental beast. He had already completed two
excellent runs at the dummies fastened to the joust barrier, the second pass
seeing the stuffed dummy completely torn from its mountings. The crowd went
wild, Genisa cheered loudly, and Bose had approached the lodges, lifting his
visor for a congratulatory kiss. Summer had bestowed one gladly.

Edward was nowhere to be found as
Summer openly lavished affection upon her chosen knight. Bose proceeded to lift
Summer from the platform, placing her on his massive saddle and parading from
the field as the crowd cheered and hollered their approval. Stephan, not to be left
out, tore another practice dummy to shreds and demanded a kiss from his own
wife as Ian, keeping his distance from his competition, eyed his sister and the
dark knight as they cuddled and conversed quietly at the edge of the field.

Only Lance was left to weakly
protest Summer's amorous treatment, basing his argument on the previous night's
reasoning that she was not yet a married woman. But Bose threatened him with
the prospect of pain should they eventually face one another in the joust and
Lance immediately shut his mouth.

Finally left alone by the three
over-protective brothers, Bose was reluctant when it came time to return Summer
to the lodges. As the gray clouds lightened with the rising sun, the heralds
sounded the first trumpet of competition to indicate the games would commence
shortly. Dutifully, with obvious affection, Bose returned his betrothed to the
lodges and cast her a saucy wink as he returned to his men.

"Oh, Summer," Genisa
sighed dreamily as Bose thundered back across the field. "I am so happy
for you, darling, truly. Bose will make a wonderful husband."

Rosy-cheeked and deliriously
happy, Summer nodded faintly as she watched her betrothed leave the lists.
"I can hardly believe the truth of the matter. It's as if... as if I am
living a dream."

Genisa observed her sister-in-law
closely, noting the absence of her usual severe stammering. Stephan had made
mention of the fact earlier that morn, amazed with the concept that Bose had
seemingly eased his sister's stuttering speech. True to her husband's word,
Genisa had been aware of Summer's improved articulation from the very moment of
their morning salutation and from that point in time, Genisa realized that the
youngest du Bonne sibling had matured before their very eyes.

"I know how you feel,"
she responded belated to Summer's dreamy declaration. "For months after I
married Stephan, I would stay awake at night simply to watch him sleep. As if I
was afraid I would awaken in the morning and realized his presence to have been
a dream."

Summer smiled, turning to her
lovely sister-in-law and knowing Stephan's feelings had been much the same.
"You love being married."

Genisa laughed softly. "I
love
him
, Summer. As you love Bose."