Daring Damsels

by Domning, Denise

  Garret moved away from her to the outer edges of the clearing and searched the ground until he found a large branch.

  When Bria turned to him, he was approaching her with the branch, swinging it in circles first around one shoulder, then the other. He hefted it once and then held it before him like a sword.

  Bria took a step forward and crossed her sword with the branch.

  “By now your grandfather knows all your moves,” Garret said.

  “He taught them to me,” Bria answered with a slight shrug.

  “Then you have to come up with new ones. And don’t think about just using your sword. Use your body as well.”

  “My body?”

  “Sure,” Garret said. “For example...” He swung the branch at her several times, slowly. Bria easily blocked each move. Then he grabbed her wrist and moved toward her, stepping on her toes lightly with his.

  “Garret!” Bria cried. “Isn’t that cheating?”

  “Not when you’re not as strong as your opponent.” Garret shrugged slightly, still holding her wrist. “And don’t use your feet just to step on someone. Kick with them.” He brought his leg around to kick her softly behind her knees, making her buckle. He quickly helped her right herself, pulling her closer. “Or you can use your shoulder to ram them,” he added.

  Bria nodded. “I see.”

  Garret drew closer to her, looking at her over the crossed weapons. “You’re guaranteed to win,” he whispered.

  Bria smiled. She could just picture her grandfather’s face when she beat him! His surprised look, his... suddenly she realized Garret was leaning closer, his eyes closed, his lips puckered. “Garret!” she protested, pushing away from him.

  “What?” he demanded.

  “Don’t do that!” Bria hollered.

  “I just thought that since we might marry –”

  “Stop it!” Bria said. “Don’t talk like that.”

  Garret frowned. “You know that’s why I’m here.”

  Bria backed away from him. Everything felt too strange. It would be like kissing a brother. Not like kissing... well, not like kissing the man she’d met earlier that day. “I said stop.”

  “But Bria –”

  “I have a sword, you know.” She waved it before her to keep him at bay.

  “All right,” Garret assented, holding up his hands and taking a step away. “But when we’re wed –”

  “I said stop it!” Bria cried, dropping the sword. She turned and raced back to the castle. She wasn’t ready to talk to Garret about marriage. She didn’t even want to think about it.

  But there was something she wanted to think about. Another man taking her into his arms and kissing her, a man with midnight black hair.

  As she moved toward the castle, she saw the cloth merchant she’d been speaking to in the inner ward packing up his cart. She stopped as she spotted the black velvet draped across the side of the cart wall. He smiled tiredly as she approached. She reached into the cart and ran her hand across the softness.

  “It certainly seems to be calling to you, don’t you think?” the merchant said. “I’ve seen it happen often. Some women and some fabrics are just meant to be together.”

  Bria studied the velvet for a long moment. Strange as it was, it did seem as if the cloth was something she had to have. She couldn’t take her gaze from its black sheen.

  “Would you like me to have a horse’s width brought up to your room? It would make a fine dress.”

  The ghost of a grin appeared on her lips. A dress wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “Make it three horses’ widths.”

  The merchant bowed slightly.

  Bria turned a brilliant smile on him and raced inside, moving toward the Great Hall. She didn’t quite understand the surge of excitement blossoming in her chest, but something inside her was telling her she’d just made one of the most momentous decisions in her life.

  Dinner was being served as she entered the Great Hall. The smell of spiced duck filled the large room. She took only two steps before she faltered, coming to a dead stop. The cloud of elation she’d brought into the room with her immediately darkened, turning into a thick fog of disheartenment. One seat was empty on the raised platform at the far end of where she always sat to eat. It was between Lord Prescott and Lord Brent. Funny, she remembered their names when she least wanted to. She winced slightly and glanced over her shoulder at the double doors. There was still time to run.

  Before she could make her escape, Garret entered and moved past her, whispering, “Coward.” He moved around her and walked confidently up the long aisle to his seat at the head table.

  Bria ground her teeth. There would be no escape from her suitors wherever she went. She could avoid them for only so long. It was time to face her future. She straightened her back in resolve and walked up to the head table, smiling as graciously at her suitors as she could while gritting her teeth. Lord Brent smiled up at her like a tiger spotting its kill as she sat next to him. Thankfully, a large portion of duck and bread was placed before them and everyone set about immediately to eat.

  She reached for the food and stopped, slowly glancing around her, noticing the conversation in the room had lowered to a murmur. She lifted her gaze to the rear of the Great Hall. A tall man dressed in black moved up the middle aisle toward her, toward the head table.

  Bria gasped. It was the man she’d met in the hallway, her lord. She straightened, trying to see him better past all the servants who scurried about the table to accommodate the nobles.

  His black hair hung to his shoulders, glimmering in the light from the torches on the wall, the dark strands framing his face. Somehow he was even more handsome than she remembered. His black tunic clung to his broad chest, open in a V shape to reveal the strong, smooth skin beneath. She followed the opening in his black tunic down to his waist, where he wore a black leather scabbard. His muscled thighs were clad in tight black leggings and his black leather boots barely made a sound as he moved toward her.

  But again his dark, brooding eyes caught her attention, making her heart hammer in her chest. They were locked on her. A tremor raced up her spine.

  He stopped before the head table, and his gaze shifted from her to pin her father to his chair. For the first time, Bria realized her father’s hand was clenched in a fist atop the table.

  “Lord Delaney.” The man’s deep voice sent shivers through Bria’s body.

  “Good day,” her father answered amiably enough, but Bria heard the barely restrained tension in his voice.

  “Since you didn’t greet me last night when I arrived –”

  “It was very late,” her father answered.

  The lord continued as though her father hadn’t spoken. “I will state my intentions now. I’ve come to marry your daughter.”

  Excitement flared through Bria. Her heart raced. He’d come to seek her hand! Bria had guessed as much. Still, the words gave her a thrill she’d never experienced. The thought of being encompassed by those strong arms sent shivers of excitement racing up her spine.

  A murmuring of objections came from the lords seated around her at the head table. How could they hope to compete with her lord?

  Her father slowly rose from his chair. He was shaking his head as if in amusement, but there was a serious scowl on his brow. “Lord Knowles, I’m afraid that’s quite—”

  Lord Knowles? Bria’s mind repeated the name over and over, first in confusion and slowly in mounting anger. “Lord Knowles?” Bria gasped. Any thought of finding excitement in his arms quickly vanished. Anger and humiliation washed through her. How dare he deceive her? He was her enemy!

  She was on her feet as she pounded the table with her fists. “Never!” she ground out between her clenched teeth.

  That drew his gaze. The two beacons of darkness centered on her.

  “I’ll never marry you,” she vowed and stormed from the table.

  Terran watched with keen interest as his future wife left the room in a huff. Th
e little firebrand from the hallway was Bria Delaney! He studied the sway of her shapely curves as she stalked from the room and realized he could do worse, much worse. At least he knew how she felt from the beginning. There’d be no surprises like the one Odella had presented upon her deathbed. No, Bria was not like Odella at all.

  He turned to glance at Garret Dysen, who sat but a few chairs from him. Hatred burned keenly in the man’s eyes. Terran’s jaw clenched as anger and resentment sizzled inside him. It had taken him by surprise that Odella had loved Dysen, but it was no secret how Bria felt about him.

  Terran mentally shook himself. That damned Kenric said he’d taken care of everything.

  “You’re not welcome here,” Lord Delaney snapped. “I suggest you leave.”

  Terran glared at Lord Delaney. The room was so quiet Terran swore he heard the anger boiling in his host’s blood. “I’ll leave when I have my betrothed,” Terran answered.

  “You broke that contract when you chose to take a new wife,” Delaney answered.

  There was such blatant hostility in his voice that Terran decided he liked the man. He certainly had no problem expressing his dislikes. “We never married,” Terran growled. As if it were any of his concern.

  “Lady Bria deserves better than you,” Lord Brent said.

  Terran pinned Brent with a searing gaze. He was an older man here to obtain a rich dowry, no doubt. “Let any man who doubts the legitimacy of my claim challenge me in a joust.”

  “No,” Delaney roared. “I forbid it. There will be no fighting at Castle Delaney. We will settle this like civilized men.”

  “There is nothing to settle. The dowry was set by my grandfather and your father. I will adhere to the terms, as will you,” Terran ordered.

  “That is impossible,” Delaney said. “I have just sealed Bria’s betrothal to Lord Garret.”

  Surprise rocked Terran and his glare shot to Garret. Odella had killed herself out of love for him. Now the man was betrothed to his future bride! Will this man ever stop dogging my every step?

  Terran’s gaze moved over the other suitors. By the displeased grumbling and the shocked looks on their faces, Terran knew Delaney had made a snap decision to thwart him. His stare slammed back to Delaney. He smashed his fist on the table. “She is mine. I will not permit such insolence!”

  Amid the stares of disapproval, Terran quickly composed himself. He straightened and forced his voice to be calm, hiding the fierce rage burning within. “If you persist in being unreasonable, I will take it up with the king. I’m sure he’ll see it my way.” He turned and quickly left the room, fighting to keep his feelings inside. But as he entered a spiral stairway, his rage finally surfaced, burning like molten lava in his veins.

  He pounded the wall once, hard. A savage growl tore loose from his throat.

  God’s blood! Must Dysen haunt me all my life? No matter. Bria will be mine in the end. I will see to it.

  “Knowles! Where are you?” a voice called from the hallway.

  Terran stepped out of the stairway to confront the anger he heard in the man’s voice. His own fury flared upon seeing Dysen standing in the middle of the hallway, searching for him.

  Garret spotted him and stalked toward him. His fists were clenched at his side, his shoulders bunched, his eyes narrowed to twin orbs of flame. He stopped just feet from Terran. “Stay away from her, Knowles,” Garret snarled.

  “I can hardly do that when she is to be my wife.” Terran fought to retain his calm, but deep inside he felt none of the even-temperedness that he put on.

  “Did you not hear what Lord Delaney said? Lady Bria will be my wife.”

  Terran lowered his chin and glared. “That remains to be seen.”

  “Look, Knowles,” Garret said, “I respected your right to lady Odella when you won her. I expect you to do the same.”

  “Yes,” Terran growled, feeling the fury rise within him, “except you neglected to tell me that you had already won her heart.”

  Garret’s mouth dropped open, but he promptly closed it.

  “Your name was the last thing she ever said.”

  Garret’s brows drew together in agony, and for a moment he looked away from Terran. “Yes,” he admitted, “we loved each other.” When he lifted his gaze, there was bitterness and rage glittering in his eyes. “But when her father chose you, we agreed to abide by his decision. I left her with you.”

  Terran straightened slightly. Perhaps Dysen is more honorable than I’ve given him credit for. Perhaps he did love Odella, and she loved him. Perhaps everything I thought was love was nothing of the sort. Could it be I only loved Odella as I’d love the spoils of war?

  “And you tormented her so much she took her own life,” Garret added.

  The words snapped Terran out of his ponderings. His fists clenched. The accusation was insulting. “I think your giving up on her love drove her to it, not me.”

  Fury flamed in Garret’s eyes. “So you’ve come here to get even?”

  Terran began to turn away. “I’ve come for my wife.”

  Garret seized his arm, halting him. “You think you can go from one woman to the next without a thought to their feelings? Well, it isn’t going to work this time. You won’t have Bria.”

  “Is that a threat?” Terran asked, jerking his arm free of Garret’s hold.

  “Consider it a challenge. Tomorrow on the tilting field.”

  “I’d have it no other way.”

  Two swords crossed in the moonlight, their metal blades clanging as they collided.

  “Come on, girl,” Harry goaded Bria, who was standing mere inches from him, trying to stare him down. “Concentrate. You want me to defeat you?” He swung his sword around to the side and in.

  Bria just barely blocked it. She swung and the blades pushed hard against each other, then abruptly separated, the slender steel screeching as they slid free. Bria swung again, but Harry backed away and her blade whistled through empty air. She swung a third time, but this time Harry caught her swing and grabbed her wrist, bringing her in close so they were nose to nose.

  “You have to control your anger,” he warned, “especially when you fight.” He pushed off of her sword and swung.

  She ducked and spun away from him, then countered with an arc to his head. He blocked her blow. She lunged and then feinted left.

  It took all his concentration to match her move and block it. She was quick, much quicker than he was. And she was smart. He could see her mind working even as she lunged. He caught her sword and twisted his wrist. He’d disarmed her more than once with that move.

  But tonight it didn’t work.

  Bria held her wrist firm and angled his weapon into the ground.

  Disappointment settled heavily about his shoulders. How many times had he told her she couldn’t win against his strength? But just when he was about to overpower her and push her sword into the earth, she lurched forward, planting her leg behind his, and shoved him hard with her shoulder.

  He went over like a felled tree, slamming into the ground on his back. Startled, he took a moment to recover and catch his breath. He began to rise, only to find the tip of a sword at his neck. Her blue eyes glinted, the full moon reflected in her bright gaze, a triumphant smile curling her lips.

  With a sigh, he settled back against the grassy bed of the ground. “Well done,” he said.

  Bria’s smile grew. “Yield,” she commanded.

  His head came up quickly. “Don’t press your luck,” he said.

  Bria withdrew her sword and laughed in pure delight. She threw her head back and joyful glee churned merrily from within her throat. “It worked! I did it!” she proclaimed. “I actually did it!”

  Harry pushed himself to a sitting position. Every muscle in his body ached. The fall hadn’t done much to help his brittle bones either.

  Bria danced happily around him, spinning wildly, as if she’d just won her first joust.

  Harry planted his hands on the ground and began to ease
himself to his feet.

  Bria stopped her dance of victory and moved to his side, grabbing his arm and helping him to his feet. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I’ve never won before. Garret said I could beat you if I used my wits and body. He said there were other ways to win a battle!”

  Harry nodded. “Your skill has increased.”

  “Increased?” Bria exclaimed. “I beat you!”

  “I’m not the young man I once was, or I doubt you could have accomplished that.” He knew he was lying to save his wounded pride.

  Bria took several instinctive steps toward the tethered horses.

  “Stay on our lands!” Harry shouted after her.

  Bria stopped cold. Harry watched her happiness fade as she stared at the forest, and he immediately regretted his words. With her friend dead, she had no reason to go racing off into the woods.

  He placed an arm about her shoulders. “Mary knows,” he whispered. “She knows you beat me.”

  He felt the agony written in her eyes, the grief etched in her brow. She threw her hands around his shoulders. Harry held her close, sharing her pain, soothing her with gentle touches and whispered words. But he knew nothing he said or did could replace her lost friend.

  Later that night in her room, Bria stared out the window at the moon. The round circle shining in the cloudless night sky reminded her of a wide, shocked eye, shocked because of her instant reaction to Lord Knowles. She tried to push the attraction aside, but it lingered.

  Terran Knowles! How dare he show up at her own castle, demanding her hand in marriage, looking like some valiant knight? Giving her hope there was someone out there she wouldn’t mind marrying? And then revealing himself as her most foul enemy! The cur.

  Bria turned away from the moon, trying to push his accursed image from her mind. She concentrated on her victory earlier that night, the joy and excitement she’d felt when she’d defeated her grandfather. Her first impulse had been to run off and tell Mary. Her friend would have been so proud of her.

  She threw herself down upon the bed. If only she could make Kenric and that deceitful Knowles pay for their vile behavior.