Kiss of the Dragon Read online

  Making a face, she agreed. “Of course, I have. But they need not know that.”

  “Your father has already informed them that you were up. He expects you to do your duty and make an appearance below stairs.”

  Bianca scarcely kept the obscene curse from escaping her lips as she paced to the balcony window and back, her dark dreams momentarily forgotten with this news. She had more important matters to attend.

  Suddenly she stopped and turned to the large servant. Her eyes brightened with mischief.

  “Please summon Lady Modesta for me, Jabulani, then return to my father and stall for more time.”

  The smile that had previously graced his face disappeared and a look of disapproval settled there. “What are you thinking to do, Beauty? What do you need with your cousin?”

  “Do not worry! Everything will be fine, Jabulani. Trust me.” By the scowl on his face Bianca knew her innocent look did not fool him at all. She gave him a bright smile and nodded her head assuringly. “Trust me.”

  With a curt nod, his face set in disapproval, Jabulani turned and made his way down the stairs toward Lady Modesta’s chambers. Bianca closed the door and hurried to her wardrobe, flinging the door open wide to reveal the array of splendidly colored gowns, arranged in the colors of the rainbow, deep red to royal purple. She needed something special for this occasion. Something meant to impress upon the newly arrived nobleman just how thrilled she was to have yet another suitor.

  With only a slight hesitation, she picked two gowns that caught her eye. She carried them to her large canopy bed and spread them out over the deep blue velvet bed cover. She dropped her dressing gown to pool on the floor at her feet and reached for one of the gowns. It would take her only a few moments to ready herself for the encounter with one more in a long line of suitors who had come to compete for her hand and therefore her fortune.

  As she carried the gown she chose past the tall looking glass that stood next to her dresser, Bianca caught a glimpse of her trim naked body and she paused to take a good look at herself. She constantly heard tales of her celebrated beauty and she had suffered through many evenings being entertained by traveling bards who seemed to have an obsession with her physical attributes.

  Her suitors complimented her lavishly, and her father told her time and again that she was the very image of her dear angelic mother. But as she stood looking at herself with all of those empty compliments whirling around in her head, she failed to see what they saw.

  Bianca stared at her reflection in the tall gilded mirror and saw a young woman whose face was pleasant enough, with two slanted violet eyes, a small straight nose and a sweetly curved mouth. She smiled suddenly and then ran her tongue over her small, white, evenly spaced teeth. Yea, admittedly her teeth were white and straight, nothing exceptional.

  She shrugged her shoulders and felt the softness of her long hair against the skin of her back. If there was one thing she might be a little vain about, it was her mane of glorious black-as-midnight hair. It hung in a long, shining curtain down her back, nearly reaching her knees. Raising her hands, she thrust them through the mass of hair, lifting it off her neck. As she turned her back to the mirror, she let it fall back to whirl about her backside and thighs. The movement of it against her bare skin caused such a sensual feeling that she whirled around several times letting her hair wrap around her like a dark silken cloak.

  “You are so wanton, Bianca. Vanity is one of the seven deadly sins and you know it.” She repeated her favorite lecture and then laughed aloud.

  She moved closer to the mirror and studied her face. According to her father, her delicate features were a gift from her mother, along with her creamy white, flawless skin. With a sigh, Bianca gathered her hair and brought it over one shoulder and plaited it in to a long, thick braid, which she then tied into a loose hoop at the nape of her neck. She studied herself as she worked.

  Of average height, Bianca possessed nicely rounded curves. She turned and gazed critically at her profile, running her hands from her waist up to cup her breasts as she stared at them critically. They were high and firm; the nipples were dusky rose-colored and tilted up slightly. Her hands moved down over her narrow rib cage and her slender waist and out over the slight flare of her hips. She was not overly plump, but she was not scrawny either. Her legs were long, her ankles well shaped and her feet small. All in all, she saw nothing extraordinary in the mirror. She was built like any other woman, no better and no worse.

  “What do they see?” Bianca asked her reflection. “I am just a woman, like any other. Why do men come from far and wide with only a rumor of my beauty to guide them? It is a daft notion.” She sighed as she shook her head at her image. Then she stuck out her tongue and grimaced at her reflection. “I know that I must marry someday, but I want a husband who judges me on who I am in my mind, in my heart, not what the bards say I am. Do you think I am daft for wanting that?”

  She stared at her reflection in the mirror as if waiting for an answer but, of course, none was forthcoming. Not that she expected one, but it never stopped her from conversing with herself.

  With a delicate shrug of her shoulders, she turned away and quickly drew on a thin, sleeveless linen chemise and then the gown she had chosen. It was soft, gray wool that fit loosely over her curves and it was the most drab and unimpressive gown she owned. It was the garb she wore when she rode out on her little white palfrey for a gallop across her father’s estates and in the surrounding hills. While dressed so obscurely, she was often able to escape the castle without escort. That was why she kept such a garment in the back of her wardrobe.

  Behind her, the chamber door opened and she whirled to find her cousin had arrived. Bianca smiled at Modesta as she swept into the room with her usual liveliness, only to hesitate at the sight that met her eyes. Her beautiful long blond tresses bounced about her shoulders as she came to an abrupt halt. She stood there, frozen in her loveliness, dressed in a long-sleeved gown of soft wool that molded over her curvaceous form with layers of creamy lace accenting her low neckline showing just a hint of her high, young breasts. More lace decorated her slender wrists just above her graceful hands, which she held clasped to her breast. Her mouth dropped open in astonishment as she took in the strange attire with an expression of horror on her face.

  “What are you wearing, Bianca? Have you lost your mind?” She moved forward to walk around her cousin and watched her preen in front of the large mirror.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have a plan to rid myself of one more unwanted suitor. Do you like my new attire? I would almost promise that one look at my maidenly charms and the new suitor below stairs will run for the hills. What say you?”

  “I say to you, ‘Good morning, dear Cousin’. I hope you slept well.”

  “Oh indeed, I did, Modesta, and you?” Bianca laughed at the sarcasm in her cousin’s voice. “In fact, I slept so well, I dreamt that my Prince Charming finally came and swept me up in his arms and we rode away on his great black warhorse.” She frowned for a moment, her delicate brow wrinkled as she tried to puzzle out something.

  “Aren’t princes’ steeds all white with silver saddles and accouterments? It is strange that I would dream of a dark prince with a devil of a black steed.”

  “You were never one to follow the rules, Bianca. It is just the twist of your imagination. You write those stories about dragons and ogres and such. It is no wonder you dream such dreams,” Modesta teased her lovely cousin.

  “And what of you, dear Modesta? Did you dream sweet dreams of your Prince Charming as well?” She laughed at the grimace on Modesta’s face. “I shared my dream with you. Now you must tell me if you have such dreams. It is a possibility that by the time you have broken your fast, you may indeed have met the man of your dreams, also.”

  “What do you mean?” Modesta asked, her voice laced with suspicion. She had been included in more than one of Bianca’s wild schemes. It was true that the two of them had been punished
more than once over the years as they had grown up together. But Bianca’s stepmother was a little too free with her small revenges, a hard pinch here or a sharp slap there, for real or imagined offenses the two had committed over the past year. Modesta frowned. It seemed to her that the punishments of late had been cruel to the extreme, though.

  “Well, dear cousin, let me ask you this—are you ready to finally meet the man of your dreams in the flesh?”

  “What are you up to, Bianca? You know how much trouble the last escapade caused you, or rather us. She has eyes everywhere. Do not think she won’t know.”

  Crossing the room, Bianca took Modesta’s hand and led her reluctant cousin to the bed where she urged her to sit. She squeezed her hands gently with encouragement as she related the news that Jabulani had delivered.

  “Two barons wait below?” Modesta asked, wanting to clarify what Bianca was telling her.

  “Yea, they await us, even now. It is possible that this new suitor may very well be the man I will end up marrying and spending the rest of my life with.” She glanced up through her eyelashes to determine how Modesta was taking her words. If what she planned was to work she needed her cousin’s sympathy to get her to agree to go along with her. She sighed loudly. “In truth, I must be certain that he is the one for me.” She paused for effect before continuing. “And that is why I must ask a favor of you, dear cousin.”

  Modesta leaned forward with a knowing smile. “How are you going to defy your stepmother this time? You know I will help.” She reached over and squeezed her cousin’s arm to reassure her of her support. “Anything, Bianca. You know I would do anything for you. Haven’t we always backed each other, no matter the consequences? Now tell me, what is it you would have me do?”

  “No, I cannot ask you to do this for me, even if it meant saving my future happiness. No, I cannot let you do it.”

  “Oh please, Bianca, let me. I am your cousin, after all. It is my right to help you with your problem.”

  She was hooked and now all Bianca had to do was reel her in. But she needed to do it carefully.

  “It will take courage, Modesta.” She hesitated before plunging on. “I want you to meet with this baron-knight in my stead,” she rushed on even as her cousin opened her mouth. “He will not know the difference. He has asked to be presented to the Beauty de Neige and you are just as much she as I am.” She raised her hand to forestall the refusal she saw forming on Modesta’s lips.

  “I want the opportunity to make my decision without giving anything away. I want to view this man and be able to watch him without him knowing that I am. In this way, I will know if he is truly interested in me or if it is my dowry that he comes to claim. Please, Modesta, do this for me. It would be a great favor. Please, say you will do this for me, please.”

  “I will do it, dear cousin,” Modesta answered with little hesitation. “But promise me that you will not leave me alone with this baron. And you must agree to tell him the truth as soon as you have made your decision.”

  “I agree. Come then, we must hurry and get you changed. The Beauty de Neige must meet her prospective suitor in the finest of gowns.” They both giggled when Bianca twirled around the floor displaying her plain gray woolen gown. She would play the tiring woman to her cousin who would pretend to be her. The servant’s attire would assure that no one at morning meal would notice her.

  Bianca stripped Modesta down to her underdress and then picked up the creamy yellow gown of fine wool and helped her into it. A heavily embroidered kirtle of deep green followed. The colors enhanced the young blonde’s beauty, the color of her kirtle matching her jade-green eyes. After plaiting Modesta’s thick tresses, a soft green veil was added to conceal her golden braids, a gold barbette pinning it to her head. When Bianca stepped back to study her work, she declared Modesta looked every part the fairest maiden in all the land.

  “You are beautiful, Cousin. Do not ever let anyone tell you differently.” Her compliment, given so warmly, brought a rosy flush to Modesta’s cheeks. And Bianca laughed at her embarrassment. “Yea, the good baron will take one look at your lovely countenance and fall madly in love with you and I will no longer have to worry about him. Now, I must put the finishing touch to my disguise.”

  Bianca searched through her chests until she exclaimed in delight. She pulled out an old, worn linen kerchief that she used when working in the garden and did her best to cover her own shining black tresses. With the scuffed slippers she found for her feet, she looked every part the serving wench and knew by experience that the noblemen who came to pay her court never even glanced at her maidservant.

  The chamber door suddenly opened to admit her handmaid, Leia, who stood with a tray of food, fighting a wide yawn. Bianca learned long ago that the young woman disliked rising so early in the morning. Her maid was pleasant enough and worked hard, but she had never adjusted to the early hours her mistress kept. She usually yawned until the noon meal, her eyes droopy from lack of sleep. If Bianca had not known her well, she would have sworn the pretty little maidservant kept late hours, but she knew that Leia went to bed with the sun and still she was always sleepy.

  “Good morning, my lady.” She bobbed a hasty curtsy as she entered and moved to place the tray she carried on the table near the balcony door.

  “Good morning, Leia. I thank you for bringing up our repast, but we will be eating in the hall this morn. It seems that we have newly arrived visitors.”

  “Yea, I know, my lady. It is for that reason I brought your meal to your chambers. It is not safe for you to go below stairs. The Black Dragon himself arrived not an hour ago and he and his companion are dining in the Great Hall with your lord father.” She hastily crossed herself and then covered yet another yawn with the back of her hand.

  “What do you mean? Who is this Black Dragon?” Bianca’s interest was piqued and her curiosity needed appeasing.

  “The Black Dragon of Normandy. He is the Black Knight, said to be the king’s champion and the most ruthless warlord in all of France. And now he breaks his fast at your father’s table. No, it is definitely no place for a gentle noblewoman to be. It is best if you take your meal in the safety of your chambers.”

  “I thought the Black Dragon no more than a legend, a droll bedtime story for children to make them behave. Are you certain of this, Leia?” A speculative thought flittered through her mind.

  “Yea…” A yawn cut into her answer. “I was in the hall when your father made them welcome. And then Jabulani confirmed it himself. The Black Dragon is a guest here at Castle Neige.”

  Glancing at her cousin to see Modesta’s reaction to these tidings, Bianca smothered her laughter in a cough.

  Modesta looked stunned, wringing her hands as she chewed on her bottom lip. Her cheeks lost what little color they had only moments before. “I don’t think this will work. Bianca. The Black Dragon is a dangerous man. He could very well take offense at your little deception and take revenge on both of us.”

  “Wait.” Bianca held up her hand as a gruesome thought suddenly occurred to her, and she lost her good humor. “What does the Black Dragon want here? Is he the baron seeking my hand, by chance?”

  “No, I think not. He arrived in the company of another great baron, my lady. A very handsome lord, he is, the one who comes seeking your favor, never fear.”

  Nodding, Bianca silently digested all that her maid had imparted. What game was being carried out below stairs? It seemed that the Duke de Neige played host to two of France’s most notorious warriors and she had been summoned to make an appearance. She seriously thought about defying her father’s wishes but her curiosity won out over her prudence.

  “We will take our repast in the hall,” she informed her maid. “Leia, go to Galen the Healer and tell him that I would have him to find a way to distract my father for a while this morn. I am very curious about these barons. We will make an appearance in the hall as planned, but I do not want my father present. It would ruin everything. Hurry now.”<
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  As soon as Leia left the room, Modesta emerged from her temporary state of shock and started backing away from her cousin, shaking her head so furiously that the motions threatened to dislodge her veil.

  “No, Bianca. I cannot go down and sit at same table with such a man and play him for a fool. Do you realize what a fierce temper he must have? He is a baron-knight, for God’s sake!” A look of horror colored her face as she realized what she had agreed to do. “What was I thinking? They are both baron-knights. When they find out we have tricked them, they will both be furious. Only God knows what they are capable of doing!”

  “Hush, now, Modesta. Do not worry so. You need not stay for the entire meal. But you must still meet with them. And we are not exactly lying. You are a beautiful woman by the name of Neige as much as I am. They will just assume what they will and make arses of themselves without our help.”

  “Swear that we will not incite their tempers in any way.” She stood wringing her hands in uncertainty. “Swear it, Bianca, or I will not go down there.”

  “Trust me, dear cousin. I would never dream of making the good noblemen angry.” Bianca opened the door of her chamber.

  As Bianca and her very reluctant cousin made their way down the sweeping staircase, she noticed the entrance of the Great Hall guarded by two of her father’s most loyal knights. She breathed a sigh of relief to find these two on sentry duty this day. They happened to be two of her favorite guardsmen and they would fall all over themselves to do whatever she asked of them.

  “Look lively, you dope, here come Lady Bianca and Lady Modesta.” Sir Gregory stood up straighter and puffed out his chest, full of his own importance. He resembled a puffed-up peacock trying to show off for all the peahens. Bianca smiled warmly at him.

  “I have eyes, you grouchy old man. The Lady Bianca might have her beauty hidden beneath rags, but she is still a jewel,” Sir Dominic replied, bowing formally to Bianca, his head nearly touching the floor.