Fourth, she feared Captain Bougaire would do something disastrous. The way he kept glaring at her was unnerving.
Fifth, her betrothed would arrive in a few days. The Lord Protector, otherwise known as the Beast of Benwick, whose touch could kill.
And last, but not least, she’d seen him again. The handsome, redheaded man who so perfectly matched the prediction from the Telling Stones. He’d been at the far end of the Great Hall in the musicians’ gallery.
Captain Harden had first drawn her attention when he’d leaned over the railing. But he’d soon disappeared down the stairs. She supposed most of the people in the hall could only see the area close to railing, but in her position on the dais, she was facing the gallery and able to see farther into the shadows. And that was how she’d spotted the hooded man who was talking to the captain. When he’d pushed back his hood, and she’d realized it was him, her heart had leaped in her chest.
Even now, her cheeks grew warm just thinking about him. And when she thought about the accident with the pea, she wanted to crawl under the table. By the goddesses, he must think she was hopeless!
He, on the other hand, had appeared more gorgeous than ever. Standing in the shadows, he’d looked dark and mysterious. As far as she could tell, his hair was cut a little shorter than most men’s, just above his collar, and it curled around his ears in a slightly disheveled manner as if he’d given up on taming it. That gave him a boyish look she found endearing.
But there was nothing boyish about the rest of him. His black cape couldn’t hide the fact that he had long legs and broad shoulders. His mouth, wide and sensuous, had smiled at her as if he had the power to melt her from across the room. And his eyes—that hungry look in them had taken her breath away.
Apparently, he hadn’t been hungry for food, for he’d left without eating. The banquet had seemed terribly dull after that. Somehow, she’d managed to make it through four courses. Now she was pushing roast duck around her plate.
“Are you enjoying your dinner?” her father asked.
“Yes, but I was full after the last course. Do you mind if I turn in a bit early?”
He smiled. “Go ahead. Everyone believes you’re still recovering from a terrible illness.” He leaned toward her and whispered, “You did well. I’ll see you in the morning for mass.”
She stepped down from the dais, and Jensen escorted her back to her bedchamber. Tomorrow evening she would have two guards, so tonight was her best chance for sneaking back to the tower room to meet her mother.
“You may return to the festivities, if you like,” she told Jensen once he delivered her to her door.
“I dare not leave you unprotected, my lady.”
He wasn’t going to leave his post outside her door, Luciana realized, and she couldn’t think of a likely excuse for going to the tower. “I-I’ll see you in the morning.” She closed the door with a silent groan.
It was just as well, she thought as she trudged to the dressing room to remove the blue brocade gown. She needed to retire to bed early tonight, for tomorrow at dawn the message from her sisters would arrive. She wasn’t quite sure how, but Maeve had assured her that it would happen.
* * *
Two hours had passed, and Leo was in his tent, finishing his dinner, when Nevis called out.
“Come in.” Leo tugged on his gloves as his friend pulled aside the flap and strolled inside. Edmund rushed in to gather Leo’s empty dishes on a tray.
Nevis poured himself a goblet of wine. “Brody’s in my tent getting dressed.”
“Good. He’ll be hungry. Edmund, go to the commissary and bring him back a tray of food.”
“Aye, my lord.” Edmund left with Leo’s dinner tray.
Nevis snorted. “You weren’t worried about me going hungry. You always act like Brody’s half starved.”
“A bite or two passed to him under a table doesn’t constitute a meal. He usually is hungry.”
“Then he shouldn’t spend all his time as a dog.” Nevis took a drink. “What’s with him, anyway? Does he hate wearing pants? Does he prefer sleeping on the ground?”
“You make him sleep on the ground?”
“I gave him a pallet,” Nevis muttered. “You would think he’d rather sleep on a cot like a human being.”
Leo sipped some wine. “I guess he didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
Leo shrugged. “I thought he might have said something since you share a tent.”
“Like what? It’s a little hard to have a conversation with him when he’s a dog all the time. So help me, if he gets fleas on my blanket one more—”
“He can’t help it,” Leo interrupted. “He was cursed. By a witch.”
“To have fleas?”
“No! To be the way he is.”
Nevis gazed around the tent with a confused expression. “He was cursed? That’s why he shifts into a dog?”
“No. He was born a shifter. He’s Embraced. Turning into a dog is his gift.”
“You call that a gift?” Nevis scoffed. “I’d rather change into something awesome. Like a wolf. Or a bear.”
“Brody can wander into any castle in the country. Try doing that as a bear. Being a dog makes him trustworthy.”
“Man’s best friend,” Nevis muttered. “I think he actually likes getting his belly rubbed.”
Leo sat back in his chair. “You do that?”