CHAPTER 2

If she see another silk sheet, another scrap of lace, another piece of delicate silverwork, Beca Mitchell would scream. She would scream and flung herself from the highest window of the highest tower. She would just DIE if she had to look at another lacy underthing, at another fur-lined cloak or at another gold embroidered slipper.

She could not believe how events had escalated since that conversation with her father. Not three days ago, she was told she would leave the home she knew all her life, the servants and family who had raised her, to trek across the country and marry some grey, palsied, possibly incontinent old man. Now everything she could possibly need for her new life, was almost packed and her farewell feast would be in a few hours. The sheer speed everything was moving was making her head spin. It was like they had planned it all along and were just waiting for this to happen.

She and Amy were just now stood in the middle of one of the larger rooms in the castle, surrounded by cedar chests of all sizes, spilling over with yet one or another item that made up her trousseau. Lady Shelagh was in her element. She had imperiously ordered the maidservants to pack and repack each chest to her satisfaction. Each item was thoroughly inspected and anything that was less than perfect were discarded. Only the best were finally packed into those chests.

Beca looked in wonder at the treasures that lay before her. Bedsheets of the finest silk, whitest linen, gowns, shoes and petticoats. Not to mention the finest combs, hairpieces and ornaments and all that jewellery.

Where did they even find all these things? Where in the world did they find such finery? They were at war, goddamnit! People were hurt, starving and bereft of family and kin.

She just felt sick.

She had no need for all these.

That perhaps these were carefully and lovingly prepared and saved for her since she was little did not cross Beca's mind.

But it now made sense why it would take four weeks before they reached the de Lessops. They would need to move at a snail pace with all this baggage and would need a battalion to protect them against bandits. The roads were treacherous enough without the lure of such treasures.

"Just one more thing for you to try on, Rebecca," Lady Shelagh suddenly said.

Beca whipped her head round to face her stepmother. Lady Shelagh was smiling like a grosteque gargoyle and Beca was explicably frightened. Lady Shelagh clapped her hands and waved to some servants behind Beca to come forward. Beca turned and nearly fell back in horror.

Is that... No, it can't be... Oh god, it is.

She felt her throat tightening. The servants came forward, all smiles, bearing between them that dress. That awful, awful wedding dress. All itchy gold brocade with a bodice sewn with tiny seed pearls. It looked so stiff Beca was convinced it could stand on its own. Another servant was carrying a matching heavy headpiece and veil that looked like it was going to break Beca's neck if she tried it on.

"Oh. Look how beautiful it is!" Lady Shelagh cooed.

A tiny animal-like wail came out of Beca's throat. No. Surely they didn't expect her to try it on now. God, no.

"Just step out of your gown and try this on, Rebecca."

Lady Shelagh was now gripping Beca's forearm. Beca struggled a little but she couldn't wrenched her arm away from under Lady Shelagh's death grip. The dress advanced like a stalking predator and she was the little prey that could not move.

"MOUSE!"

"What?"

"MICE! In the linen! In the LINEN!"

Amy was gasping hard, pointing in horror at one of the chest. They all thought they could hear the squeaking and they all thought saw the linen moving. Nothing frightened a maidservant more than mice. Nothing frightened Lady Shelagh more than mice in the precious trousseau. Shrieks was quickly filling the room.

"Quick, do something!"

"Stomp on them! Don't let them escape!"

"The linen! The clean linen! Don't stomp on them!"

"Oh no! They are in the shoes now!"

"Where?"

"There!"

"Noooooo!"

Amy gave Beca an wink unseen as she shrieked louder than the rest, upsetting chest after carefully packed chest. The servants were screaming, Lady Shelagh was collapsing into a dead faint seeing all the clothes on the floor. And in amongst that noise and bedlam, Beca made her escape. She ran to the highest tower and burst out onto the roof, gulping the cool, fresh air.

Beca was trying to keep her breaths even in an effort to calm herself down. Her hands were braced against the mildewed parapet and the solid feel of the cold stone underneath her hands finally calmed her. That was, without a doubt, the single most frightening experience of her young life.

She felt a little bit better being out in the open like this. Beca pushed herself up onto the parapet and sat on the edge, her legs dangling down. She was hundreds of feet above ground. It was a long, long way down but she was not frightened. Not even one bit. Her father would probably die of horror seeing her on a seat as precarious as this but she did not care.

She loved it when she was high up like this.

She could see for miles. She could feel the wind in her face and hair. And she felt closer to the sun. Everything looked so tiny and insignificant from up here. The late afternoon sun was still warm on her face and she sat there for a long, long while just enjoying the wind and the sun. Sometimes Beca just wished the wind would carry her. Carry her away somewhere. She did not care where.

The wind had picked up a little and Beca rubbed her arms to stay warm. Her eyes then caught sight of a retinue of carriages making their way up through the main thoroughfare to the castle.

Was it that late already?

Beca turned to look at the position of the sun.

Yes, it was.

It was nearly time for her farewell feast.

She must have spent hours up here, watching everyone going about their lives. No doubt Lady Shelagh would have recovered from her earlier faint and was now hysterical looking for her. And the maidservants were probably in disarray. Beca laughed a little at that.

Her gaze fell back to the guests arriving for the banquet. The neighbouring factions might not be on the best of terms but it was only courteous for Lord Mitchell to invite both friend and foe to his only daughter's farewell feast. It was the done thing. No one would refuse.

Her eyes were searching for a face in that crowd and even from that distance she could picked him out. Blonde and beautiful, astride that fair white horse. It was not hard to pick him out. He shone like a star amongst the drabness; a crest of white foam on top of a dark wave. He was riding beside the black carriage bearing the O'Cullenain's coat of arms. holding the reins masterfully, riding easy on the saddle. He was made to be noticed. He was made to make other men feel inferior. She was sure of that.

Lucius O'Cullenain. Luke O'Cullenain.

Even his name rolled off her tongue, sweet and slow like molten sugar. As though he could hear her whispering his name, Luke O'Cullenain raised his head and looked straight in her direction.

Beca gasped a little.

Surely he could not make her out over that distance? She would be like a tiny speck. He was smiling at her. She did not know how she knew it but he was. It was like he knew she was looking at him and it amused him greatly.

Beca's cheeks flushed red and she hastily got down from the parapet. She pulled the ends of her hair nervously. What was it about that blonde man that always unnerved her? She had always been confident and self assured; that was her upbringing as a lady. She could kept her composure and grace in most situation but a few moments in his company, she would unravel and blush like schoolgirl.

It was like he weaved a hypnotic spell on her.

Beca shook her head at that thought.

That was just silly.

Spells? This was not some faerie tale.

Beca smiled a little, thinking about the feast ahead. Talking about tricks and spells, she might have a few up her sleeve. She had to head back to her room and get ready soon. And if Beca was going to meet the dashing and very handsome Luke O'Cullenain, she might as well look her very, very best. So beautiful that perhaps he would find it hard to forgot her? Beca laughed a little as she quickly ran down the steps from the tower. She didn't notice a pair of dark eyes watching her every move.

This was just terrible.

A catastrophe.

An insult of the highest order.

He was a warrior, for goodness sake.

Not a nanny. Not a nursemaid. Certainly not a babysitter.

That spoilt brat had ran out of her bridal fitting admist chaos and disappeared. Like a lowly servant, he was bidden to look for her and ensure that she was safe. It had been very easy to track her down. He found her, dangling precariously on that ledge, not a care in the world, not even worried that she could fall to her death while the rest of the castle was in an uproar looking for her. He felt like yanking her back from that ledge and chastising her severely.

Shallow, spoilt brat with wool for brains.

He hated it.

He hated having to track her down when she disappeared. He hated having to hide in the shadows once he found her. And he hated having to stay and watch over her as she just sat there.

It was a waste of his time.

Jesse gritted his teeth a little angrily. Right after she left, he had to slunk out of his hiding place in the tower like a common thief and leave the tower.

"You found her?"

"Yes."

"Where is she now?"

"Safe in her room."

"Good. "

There was a short pause. Jesse was walking carefully down the steep stairway before the voice started up conversationally again.

"It wasn't that hard to find her, was it?"

Jesse suddenly realised something and it made him feel like a buffoon.

"You knew where she was all this time!"

He heard that chuckle in his mind.

"Why did you sent me on a fool's errand?" Jesse questioned, trying to keep a lid on his temper.

Again he could hear the shrug before he was answered.

"It was important. You need to know her scent."

Jesse was a little angry but he could not argue with that. It made sense. Their kind was sensitive. Too many humans, too many smells. It was a practiced skill to keep track of one particular scent in amongst the many conflicting smells in this place. But once he was familiar with her scent, he knew he could have find her blindfolded.

Jesse wondered why he never picked it up before. It was very hard to ignore her. Granted, he had only been in the stronghold less than a week but her scent was everywhere. She smelled like clean linen drying in the sun. Like peaches, hanging low and luscious on the branch. And bright, yellow lemons. Like the sweetest strawberries, warm and ripened by the sun. Like green grass growing by a warm riverbank.

It had been windy up there in the tower and Jesse was almost overwhelmed by her beautiful scent carried to him by the wind. If he closed his eyes or if he was in his other form, he could see it. Her scent trails in all their glory; gold and yellows, orange and red. He felt warm just thinking about it; warm and happy like he was lying on the grass with the sun on his face.

Jesse stopped in his tracks.

Did he just smiled and walked with his eyes closed like a lunatic? Why was he smiling, for goodness sake? He was annoyed. Yes, annoyed and frustrated at this job given to him. The lady who was too spoilt for her own good. And he was the wrong person for this job.

He was sure of it.

So why the hell was he trying to pick up her scent again? In this almost trance-like manner?

Stupid, bratty princesses with stupid lovely scent.

"I need to talk to you, Bumper."

"You are talking to me now."

"No. I need to see you."

"Why?"

"I can't do this."

"You are being a BORE about this, Jesse."

"Bumper, I'm coming to see you."

There was a moment silence before the voice said in his head. "You know where to find me."

"Amy! Are you trying to scalp me?" Beca was wailing as Amy mercilessly run the combs through her tangled curls. The buxom blonde flexed her hefty arms and paid no heed to the wailing brunette. Amy took out a pin from her mouth before saying. "I didn't ask you let your hair get all tangled up like this. Now, stay still."

Beca winced as she was subjected to more hair combing, convinced that her scalp would detach at the next pull. It was worth it though. After Amy was done, Beca's hair fell in lustrous waves behind her. Amy then proceed to braid it up in a complicated series of tucks and curls before adding the pearl ornaments into her hair. They shone burnished and bright against her dark hair.

Beca did not need to paint or whiten her face too much. She was already blessed with a porcelain complexion. What was just needed was a bit of lemon squashed on her lips to give the reds a darker shade when she applied the lip colour.

"Help me choose a gown, Amy."

"This one?"

"Ugh, no. That's far too much! It's like going to church. You can't see my chest in that."

"How about this one?"

"That is my night gown."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Too much. Too little. Make up your mind. Just wear nothing. I am sure that blonde god won't mind."

"Amy! I'm a lady! I have to be modest!" Beca protested. She ran her eyes through her wardrobe before breaking into a huge grin when she found the right gown. "Well, maybe not TOO modest."

He found him at the lower lookout point at the front of the castle. Commander Allen was wrapped up in his faded maroon cloak, looking out at the courtyard.

"Commander Allen."

It was a little strange calling him that. Jesse knew him as Bumper from another life but it was important to observe protocol in a place such as this. There were eyes and ears everywhere. Bumper turned around and nodded briefly before turning back to observing the activity in the courtyard.

"You found me." The older man said. "Now talk."

Jesse stepped up next to Bumper. It took him a few moments to marshal his thoughts.

"Send someone else. I cannot do this."

"This is not like you, Jesse," Bumper said, not sounding too pleased. "Will you get off your high horse? This is an important mission. I am not trying to punish or insult you."

Jesse felt his Commander's displeasure and bit his lower lip.

"I know. I'm sorry. I assure you I am not being difficult.," Jesse apologised. "I just thought perhaps it's better to get another to do this. Anastasia perhaps? She would have greater access to the lady and could protect her more closely."

Bumper rumbled a little as he gave it some thought.

"Anastasia's not here."

"Yes. But if you summon her, Stacie will come. She travels fast."

Bumper was drumming his fingers on the parapet in front of him, making quick mental calculations in his head. He then looked shrewdly at the sullen young man beside him. "There's more to this, isn't it? You met the lady at the stables the other day?"

Jesse was quite surprised he knew that. No, actually he shouldn't be. Bumper would know everything that happened under this roof and it would be futile to lie to him.

"Yes."

"And?"

Jesse closed his eyes, colouring at the huge mistake he made.

"I had mistaken her for a stable boy, shouted at her and grabbed her arm."

Bumper broke into loud guffaws much to the young man's consternation. He didn't really need any more shame heaped on him.

"To be fair, she stole my horse and rode it without permission!"

"Lady Rebecca rode Shadow?"

"Yes."

"And Shadow let her?"

"Yes. I was very surprised she was still alive."

"I am surprised YOU are still alive, Jesse," Bumper chortled, wiping his tears. "Lady Rebecca does not take too kindly to be so roughly manhandled."

"So I gathered."

"What else?" Bumper pressed. "Out with it, Jesse. Before I force it out of you."

Jesse tried to keep his expression neutral. But he knew it was fruitless. Bumper was standing beside him, arms crossed on his chest. He could and would force it out of him and it would be less painful if he confess willingly. Jesse was still not entirely sure why he loathed this so much.

"She...infuriates me."

Bumper just quirked an eyebrow, waiting for more.

"Everytime I am around her, I get so confused and frustrated and angry," Jesse said finally. He turned away so he would not have to look at Bumper directly. "When I mistakenly held her arm the other day, I could not think clearly. I had to transform and ran for the rest of the night just to clear my head."

Even saying his doubts out loud still muddled him up. Jesse prided himself in his ability to think clearly. He still could not figure out what was happening and why he was behaving this way.

"I am not sure I can protect her well if I am so... irrational...around her. "

It was a good thing Jesse was looking away because Bumper found it hard trying to hide a smile.

"Hmm. That is interesting," Bumper replied.

He took a moment to look at the miserable young man before him. Bumper had known Jesse at a different time. He was not always like this. Morose, angry, miserable. There was a time when a smile was never far from his lips, a laugh, a twinkle in his eye. Jesse had been cheerful and happy.

Until that incident.

He was not to be blamed. He was very young, just getting used to the gift their kind had been blessed with. It was unfortunate that the girl was silly and unaware and goaded him endlessly. And she crossed paths with him during the Phase and when the fire blood was raging through him. It was like she was courting her own death.

He had been too young, far too inexperienced to control himself. Bumper had been too late to help and until now, even after seven long years, Jesse still blamed himself severely for what had happened. He had felt her blood was on his hands. He had felt the gift was a curse.

And until now as much as he could, he tried to deny what was within. What he truly was. He strained against it. Desperate. Desperately trying to tame the wild beast within. Bumper knew that if only he had been in touch with his animal side, Jesse would know exactly why he was feeling this way.

He took a few more moments to think before finally saying. "It would take too long for Stacie to travel here; no matter how fast she is. You are to stay in your current position, Jesse. Dismissed."

Jesse fought down that snort of disgust. Well, all that carefully planned arguments did not worked. He respected the older man too much to cross him any further. Jesse stepped back, ready to walk away when Bumper called out to him. "And Jesse, you are to attend the feast tonight."

Jesse's jaw tightened at that. This was more than a little frustrating.

"I was hoping for some time to hunt tonight, Commander," Jesse said testily.

"No, stay close."

"Do I have to be inside?"

"Yes," Bumper said, smiling a little. "And I expect you to be charming. And to dance."

Jesse frowned deeply at that. He loathed dancing. "Why should I dance? I am not... good God! What is that stench?"

Jesse nearly had to cover the lower half of his face. Unpleasant images flashed across his mind and he could feel the animal in him rearing up, begging to be let loose. He took quick, shallow breaths through his mouth in an effort to calm down. Bumper was already turning towards the courtyard, looking at the carriages arriving now.

"They are here."

In the Grand Hall

"Lord Mitchell. Mi'lady Shelagh."

Lord Mitchell was shaking hands with a guest when he heard that voice. His smile widened as he turned to the new guests who were just arriving.

"Lord O'Cullenain. So good of you to come." He shook hands with him whilst his eyes roamed behind Lord O'Cullenain, taking in the size of his retinue. "My dear sir! You honour me with your presence. And that of your household!"

"Come! Come! It is you who honoured us with this invite," Lord O'Cullenain protested, his hand pumping Lord Mitchell's enthusiastically, his eyes shining with faked sincerity. "We have to come. Especially since we would be bereft of the lovely Lady Rebecca 'ere long."

Lord Mitchell met the cold eyes squarely.

"Yes, Lord de Lessops made us an offer we could not refuse. It would be good for her to go. She is of the right age."

"Yes. Yes, of course. Exactly at the right age," Lord O'Cullenain murmured. He then picked up his voice and said, "So where is the Lady Beca? My old eyes will miss seeing her pretty face. I have to see her before she goes."

"Of course, my old friend," Lord Mitchell said jovially, clapping him a little too hard on the shoulder. Lord O'Cullenain fought down that scowl. "She would be along shortly. I dare say she was making herself presentable. You know how it is with daughters."

"I wouldn't know," Lord O'Cullenain said a little crossly as he rubbed his sore shoulder. "I only have sons."

"Ah! Here she is now."

All eyes swivelled to the high double doors as Lady Rebecca appeared at the grand entrance. There was a slight hush as she paused. Her fair hands picked up the full skirts of her dark green velvet gown before she descended the small flight of steps, stepping daintily on each step in her gold slippers. Her hair was dark with winks of lustrous pearls, her skin paler still against that dark green gown, her waist tiny embellished with a gold belt and her lips were as red as cherries. She looked stunning. The conversation in the room started again once she had walked down the row of curtseys and was now standing by her father.

"Rebecca, perfect timing. Lord O'Cullenain was just asking for you," her father said.

"Good evening, Lord O'Cullenain," Beca said, smiling charmingly at the old man and offering out her pale hand. "I do apologise if I had made you wait. It was very rude of me."

"My dear Lady Rebecca," Lord O'Cullenain said, taking her hand in both of his. "Time and tide wait for no man. But I swear they will wait for you."

Beca laughed lightly at the compliment, her blue eyes dancing.

"I am desolate, mi'lady Beca. That you will soon bereft us of your presence," Lord O'Cullenain continued.

"I am bidden by my father, my lord," Beca answered. "And surely my father knows best."

"Yes. Yes. I am sure he does," Lord O'Cullenain answered, nodding slowly. He then smiled and turned a little. "Have you met my eldest, Lady Rebecca? I am not sure whether you have made his acquaintance."

Beca glanced up at the smiling blonde man, trying to keep that faint flush away from her cheeks.

"Yes. Very briefly," she said, keeping her voice light. "How do you do, Sir Luke?"

She offered her hand and Luke took it. He lowered his head and pressed his lips lightly on the back of her hand, his eyes staring into hers.

"Very well, Lady Rebecca. I trust you are well?" he answered softly.

Beca nodded, not entirely trusting herself to answer. His lips were cool on her hand yet she thought her skin was burning. His lips lingered a fraction too long. Her smile was still steady on her lips but she thought her heart as beating out of her chest. He straightened up, still smiling down at her and she took her hand away, tucking it into her side.

There was an awkward pause and Lord Mitchell cleared his throat loudly.

"I think dinner is served?"

The rest nodded, eager for the timely interruption. Lord Mitchell led the way, offering his arm to Lady Shelagh. Old Lord O'Cullenain had offered his to Beca, which she had accepted graciously. But she could not wishing she was holding on to the arm of the handsome blonde walking behind her.

Later in the evening, after dinner

Don't look. Just don't look at him.

Beca was repeating those words over and over in her mind throughout the long dinner. She was sat on her father's right and had made polite conversation to the guest on the other side. Her eyes had strayed more than once down the table to where he was. Only to find him catching her looking. It was embarrassing. Especially when he looked so amused having caught her out.

The dinner and the speeches felt far too long.

They were now back in the Grand Hall, ready for the merry part of the evening. The music was gay, the dancing was starting and the mead was flowing.

"You are staring at him again."

Beca started and whirled around. Amy was smiling smugly at her, tapping her fan on the palm of her hand.

"No, I'm not!" Beca hissed back.

"Yes, you are."

Beca opened her mouth to protest again but promptly shut it when she noticed Luke was talking to a bevy of ladies who were all simpering up at him.

"What is he doing? Is he asking them to dance?" Beca said a little too heatedly. She frowned for a millisecond before carefully slipping on a nonchalant mask. Amy stared at what Beca was looking at before replying.

"Eh. Chill dude. 'is nothing."

Beca's frown was back. "What tongue are you speaking in, Amy?"

Amy was doing it again. Sometimes she slipped into another tongue, saying the strangest things that sounds like English but Beca could not make head or tail of it.

"Fret not. Your suitor's heart is true," Amy was now saying. "Although to be honest, I am sure you are more interested in other parts of his body, rather than his heart."

"Amy!"

...

"How can you stand it?"

Jesse's back was towards the crowd as he said those words lowly to Commander Allen. He was, in turn, facing the room, eyes keenly scanning the space.

"What?" he answered Jesse casually.

"The stench. It reeks. How can you stand it?"

"With great forbearance." Bumper smiled smugly.

Jesse looked over his shoulder at the source of his irritation.

"They are welcomed here?"

"Keep your friends close. But your enemies closer."

"I am having a hard time controlling myself. Let alone be civil."

Jesse'a mouth was pressed in a hard line in an effort to keep still.

"You can. And you will." Bumper said sternly. He nodded slowly to a few O'Cullenains, who were staring at him and Jesse with great dislike. Bumper grinned widely and bared his teeth. That grin did not reach his eyes.

"There's too many of them." Jesse said, now staring at the same group.

"They will not do anything here," Bumper replied, shifting a little. "It would be a great disrespect to the host."

"Are they from one of the old families? They don't feel that old."

"No. I don't think so."

"So they just came here for the dancing? I thought they only surface to feed."

Bumper looked away from staring at the group and focussed on Jesse.

"Take a good look. They covet only one thing in this room. So much so they are willing to come all the way here and make nice."

Jesse's eyes flickered everywhere picking up one visual clue after another. Comprehension dawned on him.

"Ah."

"Now you understand why I need you?"

"Yes."

"She is in great danger."

Something primal howled within him. Jesse almost shuddered. His eyes automatically seeked her. The lady in the dark green gown. When she had entered the room just now, he thought his heart would stop.

He picked up her scent first, of course. Before she entered the room. That warm, sun drenched scent. And he had eagerly turned to look for her. She was like a vision. She paused in the doorway in her dress, dark green like moss with that gold belt emphasising her tiny waist. The bodice tight and the neckline low enough that he could see the milky tops of her creamy breasts.

He had looked away immediately.

Jesse had sternly and very angrily castigated himself for having such thoughts. She may looked like an angel earth-bound but she was still an impudent, unruly girl who was more trouble than she's worth.

She was standing to one side now, speaking and laughing with that well-built blonde lady. But her eyes were not entirely still. The lingering looks. The half hidden smiles. The unspoken words between her and that tall, blonde parasite across the room. Jesse saw it all and a very low growl rumbled from his throat.

"Why are you growling?"

Jesse's head snapped back to look at Bumper. He was serenely observing the room.

"I was not growling."

"Yes, you were" - he sounded highly amused - "Just now. I could hear it".

"I was not "- Jesse answered petulantly, scowling a little now. His eyes tracked back to Lady Rebecca immediately. She was still beside that blonde lady who was demurely whispering to her behind her fan. Her head was cocked to one side, listening, her eyes twinkling. She had a naughty half smile on her lips. A smile that was doing funny things to Jesse's insides.

"You should let him out more often, you know."

Jesse huffed a little, eyes still glued on her.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Yes, you do. It is not healthy to keep him caged like that."

"You know why I have to do it, Bumper."

"Embrace your gift, Jesse. It is your birthright."

"Not if I can help it."

Bumper was laughing in his head now.

"You used to be so much fun, Jesse. Now you are such a bore. Now stop staring at her."

Jesse did not answer. Because the music was starting up for the next dance and she was moving across the room. The blonde parasite was moving too, together with the other lladies and gents taking up the places for the next dance.

They were one gent short.

"I think it's about time you start having fun."

Jesse was about to turn away when Bumper grabbed his shoulder, reeled him round and pushed him straight into the dance floor. He was about to jump back and swear at Bumper, who had the widest grin on his face. But seeing the curious looks from the other guests, Jesse straightened up and took his place on Lady Beca's left.

Looks like he would have to dance, come hell or high water.

Beca glanced curiously at the knight who had ungainly took the place on her left. She did not have time to look at him properly because the music was in full flow now and her partner on the right was now bowing before her. He raised his head, looking at her with that devastating half smile.

"Why, it's you, Sir Luke," Beca smile coquettishly, offering her hand out as part of the dance.

"Mi'lady Beca."

"Oh, you remembered my name?" she said with mock surprise . "I thought you might have forgotten it."

"How so?" came the reply. Luke looked a little amused at the pretend resignation on her face. He was whirling her round now and her gown spun out beautifully around her.

"Oh. Perhaps those lovely ladies..." Beca said, nodding towards the ladies he was talking to earlier. "...might have made your memory a little short."

"Never, mi'lady. You are beyond compare, " Luke answered, still smiling. "They are but the pale moon and you are the sun."

Beca laughed out loud. He was lifting her by the waist, moving in a full circle. The look that he was giving her made her flush. His arms had lifted her so easily like she weigh nothing, his hands circling her tiny waist. He had placed her down lightly, moving away. Beca almost regret the loss of his hand on her.

"Do you always pay such extravagant compliments, sir Luke?"

"Only when it's deserved."

"My! You have a sweet tongue, good sir," she teased.

"So I do," Luke answered. His mouth twisted in a half smile. "But I've been told my lips are sweeter."

She could not stop that train of thought. The thought of his lips on the back of her hand, on her lips, on her skin, on other parts of her body. Beca was blushing red now. Luke was laughing lightly now, amused at her discomfort. He was dangerous and she was unravelling.

Thankfully it was time to change to her partner on the left. Beca was glad about that. It would give her some space to breathe. She offered her hand out to her partner, her mind still on the dashing blonde man.

The young knight took her offered hand. Beca was a little startled at how warm his hand was and she looked curiously at him. He's new. But familiar. She must have seen him before, surely? Dark, brown curly hair. Dark eyes. He was somewhat handsome except for that frown, his face looking like it had been slapped by a fish.

OH!

"I know you, sir knight." Beca said.

"Mi'lady Rebecca," he answered, sounding a little cross. "We've met."

Beca stiffened a little at that tone. That insolent knight at the stables.

"And today you know who I am," Beca replied drily.

"Yes, mi'lady," he answered, equally dry. "Today you are wearing a dress."

Beca's face turned stony. Why was this knight being so rude? No one had ever spoken to her like that before. He was whirling her round now and she had a good mind to stomp on his foot.

"Good God! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Jesse turned to look at Bumper who was watching him with morbid fascination. And he trodded on Beca's foot by mistake.

"Ouch!" Beca yelped more in surprise than pain. Jesse was utterly mortified and he was blushing furiously now.

"My apologies, mi'lady," he stuttered. Beca just shook her head in disbelief.

"You are going to be hung, drawn and quartered."

"Get out of my head, Bumper. You are distracting me!"

"She's going to kill you. Do something, Jesse! Pay her a compliment."

"Umm...you dance very well, mi'lady," he tried.

"Thank you," Beca replied stonily. "I dance better with two working feet."

"She is definitely going to kill you."

"Shut up, Bumper. You are not helping."

"Talk about something else. Talk about horses."

He was lifting her up by the waist now. "Shadow asked for you." Jesse mumbled, looking up at her. Beca looked down at him a little strangely, her blue eyes shining like sapphires. He let her down a little too quickly. Like his hands were scalded.

"Shadow?" She asked.

"Yes...erm... My horse. The one you took out the other day."

"What kind of knight talk to a horse?" Beca asked incredulously.

"What kind of lady steals a horse?" he spat out without thinking.

Beca's expression turned from incredulous to thunderous in a split second.

Jesse could not blushed any redder. What is wrong with him? This was not him. He was not this rude, uncivilised boor, going around insulting well bred ladies and threading on their foot. He was a graceful dancer usually.

No, it was her fault. She was just impossible. And he just couldn't.

Their turn finished and Jesse was a little relieved. He could not embarrassed himself more than he already had. He bowed deeply, handing her over to her previous partner. For a marginal moment, the two men were looking squarely at each other eyes. And something akin to mutual hatred flared between them.

Jesse was first to turn away; paying attention to his new partner.

Bumper looked in disbelief at the scene in front of him. He did not know whether to laugh out loud or to cry. For a moment, his attention had been diverted from the brace of leeches in that room.

He noted the sullen expression on Jesse's face. The tightness of his jaw. The way his dark eyes flashed. Bumper could definitely hear the beast within clamouring to get out. He mentally ran past the exchange between Jesse and Lady Rebecca. His gawkiness, the clumsy way he tried to pay the lady compliments, the confusion clearly on his face as he touched her. And Bumper had to chuckle lowly.

That poor boy got it bad. And he didn't even know it.

Jesse smiled courteously at the buxom blonde, bowing low and taking her offered hand. The lady was watching him shrewdly, her eyes beadily assessing him like she was dissecting his thoughts and intentions.

"What is your name, sir knight?" she asked imperiously.

"James Swanson, mi'lady."

The lady nodded, smiling slightly.

"But you don't like that name."

Jess whipped his head up to look at the blonde lady closer. She was very astute.

"If mi'lady calls me Jesse, I will be content."

She slowly nodded, still looking at him.

"What are your intentions with the Lady Beca?"

The question was certainly unexpected and Jesse did not know quite how to answer her.

"Know you if your intentions are false and you meant her harm, you'll have me to contend with," she was now saying fiercely.

It took Jesse a mere moment to work it out who she was. And when he did, he smiled at the lady with something akin to relief.

"You must be Lady Amelia."

"Amy. Fat Amy to you."

Jesse nodded.

"Commander Allen bade me to speak to you."

"Who is that?" Luke murmured to Beca, throwing another glance at the dark-haired man.

"I don't really know,' Beca said. Her eyes swivelled to look at that man. He was dancing with Amy now and they were talking. That was most odd. She was sure Amy didn't know him that well yet they were so deep in conversation their heads were almost touching. He was most odd. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. He was rude and awkward and offensive . And she was sure he hated her. It was intriguing and...refreshing.

Luke saw how Beca was still staring at that interloper. She was still dancing with him; the schooled steps coming naturally to her but she was still frowning at that dark-haired man. Luke looked askance at him in disgust. He was a dog; a nasty inbred mongrel.

"Beca,' he whispered. They were near enough for his breath to feel cool against her cheek. Beca started at his familiarity. She did not turned to him. It would have been too obvious to those watching. But he knew he had her full attention.

"I need to see you tonight."

"I'm not sure..." she whispered slowly, her eyes flickering nervously towards her father sitting drinking at the other side of the hall.

"Please, my love," he pleaded in a whisper. "It may the last time I see you."

She sighed before nodding quickly, "At the usual place? I will speak to Amy."

"No, without Amy. I'll come to your room."

"This is dangerous, Luke."

"Are you going to deny me my last goodbye?"

The music drew to a stop and they were now facing each other. The dancers and the rest of the guests clapped appreciatively. And within that din, Beca leaned back and whispered." I cannot deny you anything. It is as you wish. I'll see you on my balcony anon."

She then moved away swiftly before anyone could catch them talking again.

A/N. Thank you for all the love. I am so sorry this story is rambling and such a slow burn. There are stuff that needs to be laid down.