Before she could catch her breath Morgan was standing before her. She placed her hand in his and he led her to the dance floor. Without a word he drew her into his arms and began to move. And as if in a trance she moved with him, following his lead as easily as if they had always danced together.
"You have not forgotten." His breath was warm against her temple.
"I have forgotten nothing, my lord." Neither the way his strong arms held her as gently as if she were made of crystal, nor the way her heart raced each time they came together. If only he were not English.
If only they had met at some other time, some other place. She could have so easily loved him, she thought.
Love.
Her eyes widened and she glanced up at him as if fearful that he could somehow read her mind.
"What is it, my lady?"
Her throat was so dry she could hot speak.
"Is something amiss, Brenna?"
"Aye." Something was terribly amiss. She felt tears very close to the surface and blinked them away. What had come over her? What in the world was happening to her?
"Tell me." His voice was rough.
"What has caused you such discomfort?"
You, she thought. You have been the cause of all my pain,
all my fears, all my disquieting dreams. And you do not even know the power you wield over me.
Without realizing it, her look softened. Her eyes had the look of a woman in love. Her lips parted in invitation.
"I do not know, my lord. There are times when I feel- lost, confused."
"You are not lost. Ice Maiden." He drew her close. His hand tightened over hers. If he had it in his power, he would keep her safe with him forever.
Forever. What a strange thought when he knew that there was no such thing. Forever was a foolish dream, a silly child's concept that had no place in his world. Still, though he knew better, he yearned for that which was unattainable. Forever.
The music ended all too soon. Both Brenna and Morgan were reluctant to step apart. When Brenna walked from the dance floor, her cheeks were flushed, and on her face was a glow that had not been there earlier.
But before she could accept a goblet of wine from Morgan's hand, Lord Windham caught her in a firm grasp.
"Would you do me the honor, my lady?"
"I fear I must take a few moments to catch my breath, my lord." She tried to pull her hand away, but he held her fast.
"There will be ample time for that." He placed a hand at her shoulder and propelled her into the circle of dancers.
Brenna felt his hand at her waist and forced herself to show no emotion. It was, she reminded herself, merely a dance. But she could not forget his cruel words, his evil threats.
"You are turning many heads," he muttered as he swept her in a graceful arc.
"You flatter me, my lord."
"I desire you, my lady. As I know you desire me."
The color on her cheeks deepened. Her eyes rounded in surprise at his boldness.
He stared down at her, his gaze piercing.
"There are many rooms here in Grey's home where a man and woman can hide from prying eyes."
At his sinister tone she felt her blood go cold. Never again would she permit this man to force her into a compromising situation as he had at the queen's banquet. With an unexpected shove, she managed to dislodge herself from his arms. As he reached out she evaded his touch and took another step back.
"You must excuse me. Lord Windham. I fear I must rest a moment from the rigors of dancing."
Lifting her skirts, she nearly ran in her haste to escape him. As she reached Morgan's side, Windham caught up with her.
Morgan glanced from Brenna's flushed cheeks to Lord Windham's dark scowl and reacted instinctively by taking a menacing step closer.
Windham studied the protective way Morgan stood beside Brenna. A hint of a cruel smile touched his lips. So, Morgan Grey had become the lady's protector. Nothing would give him more satisfaction than putting Grey in his place. He turned to the queen.
"Majesty." His sharp tone commanded the attention of everyone in the room.
"I should like to ask your blessing on a most--delicate subject."
Elizabeth's interest piqued.
"Is this not something that can be decided upon at court?"
"Nay, Majesty. You have expressed a desire to have this matter settled as quickly as possible."
"What is it. Lord Windham?"
"I request permission to wed the Lady Brenna MacAlpin." At his words, there was a collective gasp from those around him. And then a sudden, shocked silence.
Brenna stood rooted to the spot. Shock rippled through her. She stood, head bowed, hands gripped tightly together, trying desperately to hold to some thread of control.
This could not be happening. Please God. Not marriage to this man.
Though she had once thought all Englishmen were kin to the devil, she now knew that to be untrue. A few of the men here were kind and generous souls. And one here had a special place in her heart, though she was loath to admit it.
But there was about Lord Windham a hint of evil that set her teeth on edge. It was not love that drove him to seek her hand. Nay, it was something dark and chilling. Something she could not name that sent terror churning in her veins.
Except for a slight narrowing of his dark eyes, Morgan showed absolutely no emotion. He studied Windham, noting the look of triumph on his features. Aye, it would please Windham to wear Brenna on his arm like a trophy won in the games. From the time they were young, Windham had always wanted the finest mount, the biggest estate, the most beautiful woman at his side. Most of his possessions had been gained by less than honorable means. And always, when his interest waned, he would cast them aside for something even more exotic.
When the queen did not respond to Windham's request, he drew himself up to his full height and lifted his head in an arrogant pose.
"As you have said, Majesty, the lady's temper would be a problem for most men.
But I am certain I can control her. I am willing to do the noble thing and take her as wife. "