Nightshade (9 page)

She swam for a time, exploring the confines of the pool and laughing with simple pleasure. The sound caught against the water with a subtle echo. When she ducked beneath the surface once more Jessa stood up slowly, not wanting to lose sight of her.

Darrius’s feet speared into the air and her legs wavered. Jessa smiled as Darrius walked on her hands beneath the water and tried to keep her balance. She tumbled over eventually and disappeared with a splash before surging to the surface and pushing smoothly toward the shore upon the southern edge.

Jessa caught her breath as Darrius pushed her curls back and they slapped against her shoulders. Her clothes clung to her form, her breasts high beneath the homespun and firm in their shape, her nipples raised. Jessa’s chest filled with heat as she took in the rigid muscles of Darrius’s stomach and the clinging breeches, her tight backside utterly on display as she turned and pulled at the material.

Stepping from the pond, Darrius grabbed her hair and wrung out the water with certain hands. Her breeches slipped low on her slim hips but she let them be, taking a few more steps and glancing about.

Jessa held her breath as Darrius stood very still and stared across the distance between them. Radha’s words about being careless swept through Jessa’s thoughts and she put more strength into the spell, feeling it pull at her blood as if it were an insistent hand on her arm.

Darrius turned again and sat on the grass, then lay down with her hands behind her head as her legs stretched out, her feet but inches from the water. The sky was becoming light as the sun rose higher.

Jessa took one careful step and then another, watching Darrius’s prone form and seeing no reaction. She moved then, making for the nearest opening in the hedge and trying not to rush her escape. She was wary, though the Veil of Shadows would mask her movements. Perhaps she would be a breeze in the leaves of the hedge, or a ripple on the water, though either way she would not be the intruder that she actually was.

“I can hear you.”

Jessa stood absolutely still, closing her eyes as she let out a slow breath.

“Are you planning to scold me for not being proper?” There was amusement in Darrius’s voice. “No one likes a nag, you know.”

Jessa turned smoothly and let the Veil of Shadows slip away. Darrius had not moved from where she lay, her thoughts still within the sky. If Jessa walked away after being acknowledged she might give insult, and yet if she approached it would…
it would what? She’s the one who’s running about half naked and jumping into ponds as if she were something wild and…something wild and beautiful.

Jessa squared her shoulders and walked into the clearing, trying to decide how the rules of etiquette applied to the situation.

“I don’t know why you didn’t come in.” Darrius sighed. “The water’s nice and cool.”

Jessa stopped at Darrius’s discarded tunic and considered the ease of the words and her familiar tone. She picked up the shirt, giving it a shake.
And who do you think I might be, that your current state of undress is of no concern?

“You used to come in.”

Jessa picked up the trousers as well, still approaching. Her heart was pounding but she felt the innocent misunderstanding with a touch of enjoyment.

“I remember when you’d throw off everything,” Darrius said, grinning as she closed her eyes to the brightening morning. “And in you went like a bloody fish.”

Jessa stopped near the top of Darrius’s head. She held the high ground in more ways than one. “I don’t recall that.”

Darrius jolted at the unexpected voice.

Jessa stepped back as Darrius was on her feet in a heartbeat, spinning about. And then her bare feet slipped on the wet grass.

“No!” Jessa lunged as Darrius’s legs kicked out and she fell back, but Darrius hit the water with a splash and met the bottom. She slid in the silt and then scrambled to stand. Jessa eased closer in concern, forgetting that she had yet to fasten her veil. Darrius pulled at her breeches, which were slipping from her hips, splashing to the side until her feet found solid ground.

They stared at one another. Jessa’s vantage point had changed now and her confidence seeped away.

Darry studied Jessa’s face, seeing for the first time her full beauty. Her cheekbones and chin were sculpted in fine lines and her lips were ample and wide, though the darkness of her eyes stood out above everything. The black curls and braids of her hair fell against her tanned complexion, which was a warm shade of light caramel that made Darry feel like sighing. Jessa’s eyes seemed lit from within. Her nose completed the picture in a perfect manner, a tiny bump upon the bridge just enough to add a touch of delicious character.

Jessa smiled and met Darry’s silent appraisal.

“Look at you,” Darry said with a grin. “You’re beautiful.” Then Darry realized what she had said and let out a nervous laugh. “I mean…well, that’s what I meant, actually, yes,” she said, and felt a blush invade her face. “But I thought…” Darry looked down at herself, pulling at her breeches. “I thought you were my sister.”

Jessa followed Darry’s movements and blushed also. “I am not.”

“Yes, I see that now, thank you.”

Jessa held out her hand again. “Come out of there.”

“Why don’t you come in?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Darry considered Jessa’s startled tone and frowned as she tried to remember the rules of etiquette. She was not speaking to just a beautiful woman but to a daughter of royal blood. “Did I just insult you?”

“Was it proper for you to ask me that?”

“Was it?”

“No.”

“And I’m standing in my breeches.”

Jessa tried very hard not to look down again, for Darrius’s body was extremely pleasing, all sleek muscles and smooth skin. “Yes,” she replied quietly.
Don’t look down, don’t do it
. But Darrius’s breasts were clinging to her tight shirt just beyond the edge of her focus, the dark nipples on display.
Don’t, Jessa.
“Give me your hand, please,” Jessa said, her blood hot within her veins.

Darrius obeyed and Jessa pulled her from the water. She let go of Darrius’s hand and waited, confident that Darrius would say something. But Darrius merely pulled at her shirt again, looking somewhat perplexed by the stubborn material.

“Put this on, my Lady.” Jessa offered the tunic. She would not have thought anything would make Darrius shy.

Darrius took it in silence and shrugged into the sleeves, flipping her hair to the side then flinging it back. Jessa closed her eyes at the water that dusted her face and the silk of her blue sari.

“Bloody hell.”

Jessa laughed. “You’re right, it’s cold.”

“I’m sorry, Lady Jessa, truly. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Jessa was still smiling as she held out the trousers with one hand and wiped at a cheek with the other. “It’s only water, Princess.”

Darrius took her pants back. “I didn’t just ruin that, did I?”

“I think,” Jessa spoke kindly, surveying her sari as she quickly brushed it with her hands, “that it would not be the first lady’s dress you’ve ruined.” And then she realized how her words must sound. “I mean, you don’t seem well suited to women’s fashions, Princess…I mean, what you wear…”

“Not what a lady usually wears.”

Jessa stepped back, trying to compose herself. She wanted to be understood. “I like what you wear very much,” she said. She had never met a woman who dressed as a man, but considering what she had seen thus far, Darrius’s unique fashion was highly appealing and more than agreeable to her personality. “You are…they, I mean, they suit you most wonderfully.”

“When I’m actually wearing them.”

“Well, you look, I mean you look very fine…” Jessa’s tongue stumbled into her private thoughts quite against her will. “You’re just, you’re quite lovely without them, too.” Mortified, she wanted to sink in the ground and disappear.

Darrius smiled at the words. “I tried this fashion, actually, but my mother didn’t approve.”

“And why not?”

“It doesn’t go with my boots.”

Jessa laughed. “You’re quite mad, I think.”

“Maybe a little,” Darrius said.

Jessa tried to settle her scattered thoughts and the first one to take root was that her veil was not yet fastened. She quickly took possession of the silk.

Darrius took a quick step and reached out with a gentle hand, guiding Jessa’s hand away from the veil. “I’m standing here half naked, my Lady,” she said with a slow smile. “If you raise your veil you would leave me all alone. Please don’t.”

Jessa felt the fingers about her hand tighten for a heartbeat then release her before she could return the pressure. The lost opportunity slightly dismayed her.

“Seems only fair, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And I have another idea.” Darrius spoke as if in secret. “If you will allow me? Why don’t we stop being so nervous and just be friends? I could use a friend. What do you say?”

“You have many friends already, I think,” Jessa replied with quiet certainty.

“But none of them are you.” Darrius gave a brilliant smile. She held her hand out and then brought it back with a quick frown, wiping it on her damp tunic before she presented it again. “What do you say, Princess, shall we shake hands on it?”

Jessa considered the strong hand before her.

“It’s what friends do in Lyoness as well, yes? They make a bargain and shake hands?”

“Yes.” Jessa slipped her hand into Darrius’s, finding the touch against her own impossibly warm and inviting. She had never been offered such a thing before. “I would like that very much, thank you.”

Darry shook her hand with gentle enthusiasm and Jessa laughed. “And so now is it proper if I ask?”

“Ask what?”

“If you’d like to go swimming.”

“No.”

“No, it’s not proper, or no, you don’t want to?”

Jessa laughed again. “No, it’s not proper.”

Darrius slowly let go of Jessa’s hand. “I’m not very good at this.”

“At what?”

“At being proper, I suppose. I try, but things come out wrong.”

“You’re doing fine, not to worry, my Lady.”

“Call me Darrius, or Darry, if you prefer,” she said. “Friends have no need of titles, Jessa. Even etiquette allows for that.”

Friends.
Jessa found herself smiling yet again. “So I will see you at dinner then…Darry?” Darry had been absent from each function since the night of her argument with Prince Malcolm, and Jessa suspected his words were the cause.
As was I, yes? His cruelty resulted from your kindness toward me.
“It’s been two nights since you saved me with smoked fish and peppers, and I’ve seen you nowhere. Your duties will allow you to attend?”

“For certain. I’ll request my commander to relieve me of night duty.”

“Honestly?”

“You asked me, Jessa, and so I shall come. As I said, we’re friends now. You shall have a hard time getting rid of me.”

“Then I will look for you.”
I asked and so you shall come. It cannot be so simple as that, can it?

“Off you go then,” Darry said. She looked at her bare feet. “I have to find my boots.”

“I’ll save you a seat. Next to mine.”

“And I’ll be wearing clothes. With any luck you’ll be able to recognize me.”

Jessa laughed as she turned, and Darry watched the curls and braids of hair against the drape of her blue sari and the sway of her hips as Jessa hurried from the clearing toward the path that would lead her to the keep. The sound of her bangles and bracelets was like birdsong in the air, and Darry could hear them long after Jessa had moved through the hedges.

She frowned as an ache moved along her spine, though whether it was from her wet clothes or the beauty that had unexpectedly graced her morning she had no idea. She tossed her trousers over her shoulder and traced her own path back through the gardens. “Bentley was right.” She walked awkwardly for several steps as she tried to adjust her breeches.
If she looks like her father…bloody hell, but she’s altogether fine.
“And I’m frolicking about in my breeches,” she mumbled, then laughed at herself, a genuine rush of excitement rising at the prospect of getting to know such an appealing woman.
Mal can rot for all I care.

She ran then, making her way back along the path at a furious pace. She knew the twists and turns like the palm of her hand, and when she reached the small circular clearing where she had left her boots and socks, she looked up at the marble fountain sitting in its center.

From the heart of the sloping marble bowl, the carved granite of a scantily clad woman rose, her right arm outstretched. The water flowed in a smooth stream from the tips of her fingers. She bore round hips, and the robe that looped about her round hips in a low-slung manner ascended her body and covered a single breast, the other left exposed and decidedly on display.

“My first sweetheart,” Darry said, and seized a boot, grinning at the truth. She was halfway into her right boot then yanked it off, grabbing at her trousers instead as she thought of Jessa’s braids.