Cursed by Bandits (Once Upon A Curse)

7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

I tugged my pantaloons up until the waist was directly under my duckies. I tied the drawstring as tight as I could, hoping, this time, they would stay in place. But no, as soon as I moved the unruly undergarments slipped down to rest on my hips, causing the crotch of the garment to take up residence somewhere close to my knees. I tossed my hands up in the air and flopped on to the four-poster bed inhabiting the center of my room. I stared at the corbels, wondering who had spent their time carving the detailed pineapples. These thoughts momentarily eclipsed the plight of my plummeting pantaloons when a knock on the door interrupted my reverie .

“Rowan? Are you ready to head to the banquet?”

I rolled on to my back. “No, and I’m not going!”

The arched wood door opened with an ear-shattering creak. “You have to go: the festivities are in your honor.” Jane poked her head into the room. When she found me lying on the bed, her eyes rolled so hard she probably saw the back of her head. She shoved the door open and stalked over to me, crossing her arms as she came to a halt near my feet. “Why are you not dressed? This banquet and all the food involved is for you. How would it look if you didn’t show?”

“Like I’m an inconsiderate, spoiled brat, like everyone thinks I am already.” I grabbed a pillow and hid my face under it.

My friend snatched the pillow away. “But that’s not who you are, and it’s time to prove them wrong. Why aren’t you dressed? The real reason.”

I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Nothing fits. It’s all too big. The red one hangs off my shoulders, the blue one makes me look like a child in my mother’s clothing, the gold one drags on the floor.”

“What about the green one?” Jane held up a long dark-green velvet dress.

I sighed, collapsing back on to the bed. “Too big in the bust and waist. ”

“Is that it?” she asked as she spread the dress on the bed next to me.

I nodded.

“Good thing I can hear your brain rattle around in there when you nod. If I couldn’t, I’d think you were ignoring me.” She laughed.

I fumbled around, finding another pillow. I grabbed it and chucked it at her; the soft impact sent me into a fit of giggles as I looked at the incredulous expression on her face.

Jane’s hands found her hips as she stood there, ready to scold me like the mother I never knew. “Do you want my help or not?”

I scrambled to sit up, tucking my legs beneath me, my hands held up to illustrate my surrender. “Help, please can you help me, oh wonderful goddess of thread and needle?”

“No need to lay it on that thick. You had me at ‘help.’” She searched her pockets for something. “I’m surprised you know the word.”

“What are you looking for?” I stared at her quizzically.

Her brow furrowed. “I know I have it here somewhere.” She opened the pouch she carried on her belt all the time. “Aha!” She held up a needle and thread like they were a trophy. “Here they are! ”

I stared at her, my eyes wide with an incredulous look. “That’s a first for me.” My tone was serious.

“What are you talking about?” Jane asked.

I held back a giggle. “I’ve never seen anyone so excited to find a needle and thread.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You want my help, right?”

I held my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop teasing. Help me get this dress fixed.”

She grabbed a hair ribbon from my dresser and sewed it on to the back of my dress, creating loops that would allow me to use laces to tighten the dress until it actually fit. She sewed another ribbon parallel to the first. I was amazed at the speed with which she made such tiny delicate stitches. I had been taught how to sew, but the skill was lost on me. Finished, she held out the altered dress for me to wear.

I pushed myself off my cozy bed and grabbed the dress from her. Standing, I attempted to hike up the offending pantaloons yet again. They still refused to stay in place. With a resigned sigh, I left them sagging off my hips and shimmied the dress on over my head. Jane tightened the back, causing the rich fabric to hug my waist and drape over my hips before cascading to the floor in a swirl around my bare feet. I spun, causing the fabric to flare out .

“Where are your shoes? You can’t go to the banquet barefoot.”

“You take the fun out of everything.” I complained as I grabbed my boots.

The banquet hall was decorated for a celebration: candles and torches arrayed the room, and the flickering lights cast frolicking shadows, which escalated the feelings of revelry. The fire roared in the stone fireplace, keeping the room warm while we ate a sumptuous feast for dinner.

Once the plates had been cleared, the celebration moved from eating to dancing. Now the hall, with the scenic tapestries lining the walls, was sweltering as couples twirled and laughter echoed throughout the large room, creating an atmosphere of merrymaking.

I stopped to curtsy as the minstrels played the last notes of a song. It took forever for me to regain my breath after the energetic contradance. I needed a reprieve. I pasted a smile on my face as my eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape. It wasn’t going to happen, though. Every direction I looked, eligible gentlemen swarmed me, all requesting the next dance. I wanted to say no, find a place to cool down. But I saw my uncle lounging on the throne at the end of the room, watching everything I did, which meant I couldn’t reject a single suitor, especially not the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire.

“Lady Rowan.” Montfort bowed, his oily-black hair falling over his eyes. “May I have this dance?”

Montfort was the very definition of swarmy: being near him made me want to bathe. Unfortunately, saying no wasn’t an option. I looked back at my uncle as I nodded my assent.

Montfort took my hand in his clammy one. He escorted me to the middle of the floor as the minstrels picked up their instruments and played, filling the room with music. I stood across from the sheriff, waiting for the notes that started the dance.

I went through the steps, offering my hand to my partner when the music called for it, turning away when the dance required, and coming back together as necessary. Every now and then, I would look back and see my uncle’s watchful eye following my every move. The sheriff, as repulsive as I thought he was, must be more important to my uncle than the other gentlemen vying for my attention.

With every step of the dance, I felt my body temperature rise until it felt like I was sweating everywhere. The worst sweat was between my thighs; it was slick as my legs rubbed against each other. I cursed the oversized pantaloons that offered no relief. They did nothing to prevent the sweat from forming as the fabric clung to my legs in places that only caused more discomfort as the sweat turned sticky. The seam that had taken up residence somewhere around my knees chafed, threatening to break skin.

Montfort winked at me as he put his hand on my back and spun. I winced with each step as the slick feeling turned sticky; this was the last stage before my thighs burned with the heat of a forest fire, or maybe the sun. Whatever the heat level was, I knew I needed out of this room before the next dance started. The friction of my thighs rubbing together was going to cause me to burst into flames, and starting a fire during my birthday celebration was not on my list of top ten things I wanted to accomplish when I turned twenty-one.

“I’m sorry, I must find a place to rest.” I felt like an animal trapped with no means of escape. Montfort’s burly body blocked my path to the exit. His resplendent finery looked odd on a man of his size.

He stepped back. I tried to scurry around him, but he still held my hand in his. I looked at it pointedly .

“I’ll escort you. I was hoping for another dance, but this is even better. Now we have a chance to talk, get to know each other.” He tucked my hand in the crook of his elbow.

I looked towards my uncle, worried he would react if I ran off, but he was distracted for once. “Thanks for the offer, but . . .” I pulled my arm back from where it rested on his and snaked my way through the jovial crowd, praying he wouldn’t follow me.

Cool air caressed my heated skin. A sigh of relief escaped my lungs as I pressed my body up against the cool stone wall. The hallway stretched in front of me, a mix of blacks and greys broken up by the flickering of a torch. I was thankful for the draft. But it wasn’t enough to stop the thigh rubbing. I made my way down the hall, attempting to walk in a way that kept my legs from touching. This led to a ridiculous cross between a waddle and the steps of someone who was saddle sore.

I fumbled with the first door that I came to, hoping for a refuge. I knew it wasn’t a retiring room, but I couldn’t remember what it was used for. Hopefully, nothing tonight. I needed a spot just for myself.

I grabbed a candle in its pewter holder and tiptoed into the room, holding the light so it illuminated the dark space. Books lined the walls, and a rug that covered the middle of the floor invited me to lie down there just long enough to cool off. Not one to turn down such a charming invitation, I collapsed on the rug noting the silky-soft texture under my fingertips.

I sat with my back to the door for a moment before I kicked my legs out in front of me. I grabbed my skirts and hiked them up to my waist, or thereabout. I lay down, spread eagle, airing out everything from the waist below. Settling in, I decided I would allow myself to rest for two dances before heading back into the ballroom.

“Excuse me, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here.” A tall, lanky man stood over my prone body. His glasses slid down his nose as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

“Shit. Dammit.” I scrambled to cover myself.

The man pushed his glasses up his nose without saying a word, and proffered his hand.

I scoffed at it before pushing myself to my feet. For a moment I stood there, unsure of what to do, when the reality of what he must have seen set in. I felt the blood drain from my face, probably leaving my skin a ghastly shade of white. I was sure my freckles stood out like the inverse of stars in a dark night sky. Heat flooded my cheeks. My face had most definitely turned the color of my hair.

“I have to go.” I ran out of my temporary sanctuary.

His voice trailed after me. “Wait, what’s your name? I haven’t seen you around!”