The Gorgon (32 page)

Summer met the woman's bright
blue gaze a moment, feeling the wonder and magic of new sensations grip her.
Like nothing she had ever known before. "In three days I have lived a
lifetime," she murmured softly. "My one regret is that Bose will take
me to live at Ravendark, away from my family. 'Twill be difficult to reside in
his home and not my b-beloved Chaldon, unable to share my future happiness with
those I love."

Genisa's smile faded and she
touched Summer on the arm, an affectionate gesture. "I felt much the same,
Summer. You forget that I have seven younger sisters who cried hysterically
when Stephan took me away. I was uncertain about life at Chaldon, too, until I
met a shy young lady who soon became my very best friend. You must trust that
you will find a wonderful new way of life at Ravendark, darling. Have faith in
the joy of your destiny."

Summer absorbed the wisdom of the
words coming from a usually dense and silly young woman. In the past three
days, she had come to know much about Genisa du Bonne that she had never
suspected to exist. A depth to the woman seldom, if ever, seen. After a moment,
her broad smile returned.

"You are sounding more like
my brother every day," she said, placing her gloved hand over the warm
appendage clutching her arm. "I shall m-miss this wise woman I have come
to see over the past few days. A woman I should like to know better, I
think."

Genisa chortled again, wondering
when next she would see her beloved sister-in-law after Bose de Moray whisked
the lady away to the distant keep of Ravendark.

"There will be time
enough," she replied, noting the heralds had cleared the lists and were
preparing to announce the first bout. "I suspect your wedding to Sir Bose
will not be for a few weeks yet. By that time, you may be so utterly weary of
my newly-discovered wisdom that you'll be ready to leave Chaldon and never look
back."

"I doubt it," Summer,
too, noted the activity of the heralds with mounting anticipation. "However,
when next I return home, I should expect to see an heir in your arms. I have
waited two years for you to produce a child and I refuse to wait any
longer."

Genisa shrugged faintly, her
smile fading. "When God decides to bless us with a child, I shall be
entirely joyful," after a pause, she sighed pensively and her smile faded
completely. "I do not think Stephan has recovered from my miscarriage last
year. He was convinced I carried a son."

Summer's smile faded as well,
remembering the pain of Genisa's failed pregnancy like a stab to her heart. She
remembered her brother crying for hours by the darkened hearth in the grand solar,
cursing God for the death of his child in one breath and thanking him for the
spared life of his wife in the next. Summer recollected his pain, recalling
Bose's anguish along a similar subject as well. Stephan had merely lost his
child; Bose had lost his entire family.

Genisa caught a glimpse of
Summer's dour expression. "Do not worry for us, darling. I did not mean to
imply that Stephan still aches with regret for what could have been. He's quite
happy and there will be more...."

Summer shook her head, fighting
off the gloom that intimidated her soul. "I k-know," she whispered.
"It's just... Bose lost his wife and son in childbirth. I c-c-cannot
imagine what would have become of S-Stephan had he lost you, as well."

Genisa noticed the return of
Summer's stammer as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. When she was calm
and content, the stammer was noticeably less. But when her sentiment or
feelings flared, the stutter returned like an evil addiction. Digesting that
particular bit of observation, Genisa endeavored to push the gloom of death out
of the conversation.

"Fortunately, he did
not," she said with forced courage she did not feel. Speaking on the
subject of failed pregnancies, especially her own, greatly depressed her.
"As for you, my newly betrothed darling, I expect the next time you return
to Chaldon that it would be with a child in your arms as well. Mayhap our
children will grow up together."

Laboring to cast aside her
darkened mood, Summer smiled weakly. "Mayhap," suddenly, she emitted
a soft giggle. "I t-told Bose of my plans to name our firstborn son
Kermit."

The depressing atmosphere
instantly vanished as Genisa joined Summer in her laughter. "Sir Kermit de
Moray! What a wonderful name!"

"He hates it."

"So do I! What a wonderfully
horrid name!"

Summer and Genisa screamed with
laughter, drawing the attention of few in the lodges. When Summer suggested the
name Percy for Stephan's first-born son, Genisa laughed so heartily that she
nearly hyperventilated. Chortling and snorting as their good humor made a bold
returned, the two women were unaware when Edward and another figure approached,
claiming the chairs made available by hovering servants.

Summer's laughter was cleaved as
a foul-smelling odor swept her, followed shortly by a warm body seated
indecently close. Turning with shock to the source of the warmth and smell, she
was immediately confronted with small blue eyes and a pock-marked face.

Breck smiled lasciviously.
"Greetings, sweetling. How delicious you look today."

Stunned and instantly angered,
Summer indiscreetly moved her chair away from him. "I will thank you for
not sitting so c-close to me, my lord. Since our encounter last eve, I would
b-believe our contact to be ended."

"Ended?" Breck's
eyebrows rose in conjecture, looking to Edward seated far over Summer's
shoulder. When the man did not respond to his queried expression, Breck
returned his attention to his newly betrothed, laughing softly in disagreement.
"Our association has not ended, sweetling. It has only just begun."

Disgusted and unnerved, Summer
struggled not to pinch her nose in obvious repulsion to the man's smell.
"My future husband says it is ended. P-Please leave before I am f-forced
to summon him."

Breck sat back in the chair,
making himself comfortable and eyeing Summer with a good deal of indifference.
"Summon de Moray if you feel it necessary. But I have the law and the
church on my side and may do with you as I please."

Summer eyed the man, her anger
and disgust melding into a wide mass of confusion and mounting apprehension.
"W-What are you talking about?"

Breck looked lazily to his dirty
nails, selecting the proper finger to chew. "Ask your father. 'Tis his
right to tell you, after all."

That statement brought a blow of
terror slamming into Summer's abdomen. The moment he brought her father into
the conversation, the general confusion and fury felt for the repulsive knight
transformed into a premonition so sinister that she could barely comprehend it.
Turning toward her father, she fixed the fat man with her awesome golden gaze.

"What would you tell me, Father?"
she asked.

Amazingly, Edward was not drunk
this morn. In fact, he appeared rather clear-eyed and alert as he met his
daughter's gaze. He matched her expression a long moment before looking away,
his eyes wandering over the colorful lists.

"You are officially
betrothed, Summer,” he said. “To a man of my choosing."

Summer's heart did a wild dance
against her ribs as she fought to control her breathing. "I know. B-B-Bose
informed m-me last eve that you gave him your permission that we might b-be
wed."

Edward turned to her then, a
flash of anger and defiance in his faded blue eyes. "The man you speak of
caught me at a disadvantage last eve, as I was completely drunk with fine wine
and unable to ponder the necessary factors relating to such a decision. With
Ian as his accomplice, I could do little more than agree for fear of my
life."

Summer sat forward in her chair,
her white-knuckled hands gripping the arm rests. "You cannot possibly
m-mean to insinuate that B-Bose and Ian threatened you. You are speaking of
your own son."

"And I am speaking of a man
who murdered his wife in order to obtain her dowry!" Edward roared.
Slamming his hands against the heavy oaken chair, the entire platform vibrated
with his fury. "There will be no wedding to de Moray, Summer. As of this
day, you are officially pledged to Breck Kerry and I have the necessary
documentation to prove it. Nothing Bose de Moray can do will ever break the
contract enforced by the Holy Church."

Instead of flying into a
hysterical rage, Summer stared at her father as if the man had completely lost
his mind. All of the color drained from her cheeks, leaving her a ghostly shade
of gray. As the rain continued to pour and the wind continued to wail, Summer
rose steadily from her delicately carved chair. Her eyes, her expression, never
wavered from Edward's perspiring face.

"You are mad," she
hissed. "I'll n-never marry Breck, father. You promised Bose…."

"A verbal sanction and
nothing more. There was never any firm agreement between us."

"Ian was there. He
w-witnessed the bond. If you go back on your word, I'll never forgive you.
Never
."

Edward was unconcerned with his
daughter's feelings. The only matter of concern was the fact that she had been
informed of her true betrothal and he suddenly felt the need for the soothing
comfort of his fine wines. Motioning to his servant, the finely-clad man
brought forth a lovely crystal carafe and began to pour. Handing the matching
crystal chalice to his lord, the servant was abruptly covered with the burgundy
liquid as Summer viciously slapped the alcohol from her father's hand.

"You will not ignore
me!" she commanded, her fury rising in spite of her attempts to control
it. Moving toward her father, she put herself between the startled servant and
her equally startled sire. When she spoke, her voice was a hissing whisper.

"You have ignored me your
entire life, Father, but no longer,” she said. “When I was young, I liked to
believe that you kept me safely shielded because you were concerned for my
mental well-being. But as time and age has matured my wisdom, I have c-come to
realize that you kept me isolated not because you loved me, but because you
were afraid of what others would think of your flawed, defective child. Therefore,
you kept me sequestered like a freak. Not shielded as a loved one."

Edward refused to meet her gaze,
a peculiar shade of red mottling his cheeks. The heralds were ready to begin
the bout, politely waiting for the signal from the baron that would commence
their duties, but no signal had been forthcoming as of yet. The entire field
hovered with anticipation and confusion as the games were unexpectedly delayed.

"L-Listen to me and listen
well," she murmured. "I do not know what has c-compelled you to
betroth me to a man you were determined to defend me against only two days ago,
but know this; I do not recognize my b-betrothal to Breck Kerry. You gave your
word to Bose, and Bose is who I shall marry. There is nothing on this earth
that will prevent our union."

Edward’s reaction was one he
would have reserved for anyone who had disobeyed his command, much less his
daughter. Grabbing her by the arms in a surprisingly brutal display, he thrust
her at the household guards maintaining watch in the stands.

"Take her to the vault. Take
her there until I decide what's to be done with her."

The joust commenced.

***

"Ian!"

The middle du Bonne brother heard
the piercing cry, knowing the source of the delicious voice before he turned in
the obvious direction. Genisa was racing across the trampled grass as the edge
of the joust arena, all silks and hair and feet of fury. A lazy smile crossed
his face at the sight of his sister-in-law as she rapidly closed the gap
between them.

"God's Blood, Genisa, what's
amiss?" he asked casually. "You look as if you've seen...."

"Summer!" Genisa nearly
crashed into him as she came to an unsteady halt, gasping painfully for every
breath. "Your... your father ordered her to the vault. Where's
Stephan?"

Ian cocked a slow eyebrow; the
most collected of the three du Bonne brothers, he was sluggish to excite or
rouse even when the situation dictated immediate action. Quite simply, his
character was difficult to disturb and Ian had learned a long time ago that
calm heads often prevailed over panicked flight.

"Calm yourself, love,"
he admonished softly. "What do you mean by saying that Summer has been
ordered to the vault? Who would..?"

"Your father!" Genisa
gasped, frustrated that Ian was refusing to take heed. "He ordered Summer
to the vault when she rebelled against... against Breck Kerry."

Ian's brow furrowed, his smile
fading. "Breck? God's Blood, what's he got to do with this?"

Nearing the heady edges of
despair as a result of Ian's lack of action, Genisa could hardly control her
panic and irritation. "For Mercy's Sake, Ian, we must find Stephan. Summer
is in terrible trouble!"

Growing increasingly concerned
with the confusing situation Genisa was attempting to convey, Ian grasped his
sister-in-law by both arms to calm and steady her. "Stephan is preparing
for his coming bout. If Summer is in trouble, mayhap I should go and speak with
father. Mayhap...."