Knight in Highland Armor by Amy Jarecki Read Free Book Online

He was a knight, for Christ’s sake.
    He popped a piece of bread in his mouth and washed it down with wine. The festivities couldn’t end soon enough. He needed the solace of his chamber, where he could think. Margaret glanced at him and smiled. His lips turned up. Damnation . He shouldn’t have smiled in return.
    Margaret rested her eating knife on the table. “I thought we might talk a bit before…” Her eyes trailed away.
    Ah. The wedding night. She would be nervous about that. Colin didn’t even want to think about it. “Talking is not necessary.”
    She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Oh? And how else do you suggest we come to know one another?”
    “Time, m’lady.”
    Margaret’s gaze drifted. Colin couldn’t read her—though he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to know what her pretty head was thinking, or her opinion of him. He wanted this night to be over.
    The musicians on the balcony increased in volume.
    Margaret clapped. “Do you dance, m’lord?”
    Colin’s stomach muscles clenched. “Not really.” He prayed he could make it through the evening without dancing with the lass.
    Margaret’s face fell, and she folded her hands in her lap.
    King James rapped his fist on the table. “We shall see the wedding couple in the first dance.”
    The entire hall erupted in polite applause. Blast the king . Pushing back his chair, Colin stood and bowed. “M’lady.”
    Margaret grasped his hand, and he led her down the steps and to the center of hall. Her hands were soft and ever so much smaller than his. Her palms perspired—so did his, and Colin wished he’d thought to put his gloves back on. The doeskin would provide the slightest distance.
    No other couples joined them. Fye .
    One of the musicians called for a volta. Colin assumed his position, roiling on his insides. Must they choose the most provocative dance known to modern man? Could they not have settled for a circle dance where he’d merely have to swing this woman by her elbow and look pleasant?
    Margaret stood opposite him and curtseyed. A sultry drum started a sensuous rhythm. Her intelligent gaze didn’t leave his face. She studied him as if memorizing a map. The flute began. Margaret sprang to life, her chin held high, expertly executing the steps. Together they danced. Her skirts brushed the back of Colin’s legs, the part not protected by armor—it almost tickled.
    She ran toward him for the lift, not once blinking her deep pools of green. Colin had no recourse but to grasp her waist and raise her up, twirling her across the floor. In the recesses of his mind, the crowd’s applause registered.
    Slowly, he lowered her toward the floor as the dance demanded. Her sweet fragrance, more sultry than a field of wildflowers in summer’s heat, wafted over him. Colin sucked in a ragged breath, tried to step away, but she matched his pace. Hand in hand they danced until the music ended with Margaret in a deep curtsey.
    Again the crowd applauded—louder this time.
    Smiling, she placed her palm in the crook of his elbow. “I say, you dance quite well for a man who was expecting to spend the evening draining the ewer of wine.”
    Ruing her sharp tongue, Colin clenched his jaw and led her back to the dais without a word. Perhaps he’d been heavy-handed with the ewer, but that was none of her concern.
    Resuming their seats, he wanted nothing more than to take a stroll along the palace battlements to clear his head.
    Fortunately, half the gentlemen in the hall sought to dance with his new bride. Colin switched to ale, rather than whisky. Becoming dead drunk would not help him later when he needed his wits to perform his duty, though inebriation would be a welcomed state. He reclined in his chair and kept to himself. The room aflutter with jovial laughing and clapping, he chose to refrain from joining in. He would not easily forget Jonet, the quiet woman who’d been his partner for the past six years. A complete stranger could not step in