The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Did you have any one in mind?” David asked.

  “Not you, little brother,” he replied. “I want you with me. I would like to leave Dud and Edward, if that is acceptable.”

  Sir Thomas Dudley and Edward glanced at each other, nodding. “It is,” said Edward.

  Young Trent Burton, newly knighted last year, was honored and thrilled at the prospect of accompanying the Lion’s Claw to London. According to Marcus, Christopher was the greatest knight who had ever held a sword. He looked forward to the opportunity to prove himself, suspecting that he had not been asked to guard the baron’s wife because he was not yet trusted. That was fine with him, for he would rather serve the baron personally.

  Christopher stood up. “It is decided,” he said. “Edward, I do not want Dustin on the road unless the fever is completely gone and her symptoms have subsided, and do not let her convince you otherwise. Her powers of persuasion are great.”

  Edward had already seen much evidence of that. “Understood, my lord.”

  Christopher moved away from the group, confident that his wife’s safety would be well-tended in his absence. “See to your duties,” he told his men as he headed for the stairs. “I will say farewell to my wife and join you shortly.”

  The knights disbursed as Christopher took the stairs. He entered the bedchamber quietly, noting the innkeeper’s wife as she sat beside the bed, watching Dustin sleep fitfully. Her two maids sat in the far corner with the soiled red woolen surcoat between them. All he did was motion to them and the room was cleared and the door closed. He went over to his wife, gazing down at her pale face and watching her labored breathing. He was so very sorry to be leaving her, but he trusted Marcus and Edward to take care of her.

  He bent over and kissed her forehead, twice, and smoothed errant bits of hair away. Dustin sighed deeply and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Greetings, husband,” she stretched and coughed. “Are we leaving?”

  He kissed her forehead again. “I am leaving, sweetheart, you are staying. Remember?” he said quietly. “But I shall see you in London in a few days.”

  She nodded sleepily and he wondered if she even understood what he was telling her. She seemed very groggy with the potion the innkeeper’s wife had given her. “I am leaving Edward and Marcus here with you, and you will obey them implicitly. Do you understand me?”

  “Obey, aye,” she murmured, her eyes closing as sleep tried to reclaim her. “Chris?”

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  “I think I shall miss you,” she muttered. “Will you miss me?”

  She was speaking like a drunkard and he smiled faintly; it was rather humorous. “I will.”

  She smiled, eyes closed. “Do you know what else?”

  “Nay,” he whispered. “What else?”

  “I think that I shall tell you I love you,” she whispered, so softly he hardly heard it. “I love Caesar, I love my rabbits, I love my mother and father, and I love you, too. Did you know that?”

  He was stunned. He didn’t even know what to say so he simply shook his head. “Nay,” he breathed. “I did not know that.”

  “Now you know.”

  He stared back at her, overwhelmed. Christ, did she even realize what she had said? She was sick and tired and filled with a good amount of wine, but did she even understand what those three little words meant?

  He took a step back and stumbled, trying to get a grip on himself. Did she love him or was she simply running off at the mouth? He didn’t know, but by God, he had to get the hell out of there and clear his mind. If she did indeed love him then it would be too easy for him to….he bolted from the room like his arse was on fire.

  By the time he had reached the common room, he was in control again, at least outwardly. David was waiting for him.

  “Are we ready?” Christopher demanded, slamming on his helmet.

  “Aye, we are,” his brother replied, then lowered his voice. “Chris, do you think it is such a good idea to leave Marcus in charge of Dustin? You saw how the man looked at her.”

  Christopher cocked an eyebrow. “I see how you look at her, and how every man in my command looks at her,” he replied steadily. “I trust Marcus, David, as much as I trust you. He would never do anything so stupid as to forfeit his life.”

  David didn’t reply. He was not keen on the idea of Marcus Burton protecting the lovely Lady Dustin, but any more words on the subject would make him appear too concerned. Christopher had already accused him of having feelings for her once and he would not do anything to further justify those suspicions.

  Slamming down his visor, he followed his brother out into the rain.

  *

  Three days later Dustin was fit to be tied.

  Her fever had dissipated the first day, and the cough and runny nose were practically gone. Her guard dogs, Edward and Marcus and Dud, never let her from their sight. She was not even allowed to go outside into the new sunshine.

  She wondered how Christopher was faring. She was angry at him for not even saying goodbye to her and she would tell him that when given half a chance. But to do that, she had to get to London, and she decided on the morning of the fourth day that they would leave that morn. She was the baroness, wasn’t she? And they were her vassals. Well, her husband’s vassals, but nevertheless, they would do her bidding.

  She dressed carefully in a burnished gold surcoat, one Rebecca had made, with a plunging neckline and long sleeves. She pulled the front of her long hair back and secured it at the back of her head with her ivory clip, and made sure the two maids packed everything into her trunks except the pretty brown cloak with the rabbit lining. She would wear it because even though the sun was shining and the birds were singing, it was still quite nippy outside. Winter was in full swing.

  She found Marcus and Edward downstairs in the common room, playing some sort of card game. Squaring her shoulders, she marched down the stairs and made her way purposely to their table.

  The two knights rose when she approached, their eyes grazing her appreciatively. “Lady de Lohr, a pleasure,” Marcus said fondly.

  She raised a dark brown eyebrow at him. “Marcus, I wish to go to London today. I am well and can travel, and I am sick of this little hovel. Can we go? Please?” She added the “please” purely for courtesy’s sake so she didn’t sound like a tyrant.

  Marcus glanced at Edward, who was glad she had not focused her willfulness on him for once.

  “Mayhap, my lady,” he replied. “Are you sure you are feeling well? No more cough?”

  She shook her head hard. “No more cough. I am as healthy as a fat baby.”

  Marcus sighed dubiously, glancing again at Edward for moral support, but was being ignored. He cleared his throat. “Very well, my lady. If you say you are well, then I shall take a lady’s word. We will leave whenever you are ready.”

  She was fully prepared to argue with him, but his gracious acquiescence had her smiling. “I am ready now. Can we leave now?”

  Marcus and Edward chuckled. “I suppose so,” Marcus said. “Can Edward and I gather our things at least?”

  She nodded happily. The knights put away their cards and Edward threw open the door of the inn.

  “Dud,” he called to the knight standing watch outside. “We leave within the hour. Move the men.”

  The innkeeper, hearing that his most loyal customers were preparing to leave, rushed to the kitchen. When he returned, he brought a plateful of delightful apricot and apple pastries, some glazed with honey. Dustin’s eyes widened with delight and she downed the first gooey confection with glee. When she started on her second, Edward admonished her gently.

  “Not too much, my lady,” he said. “A full stomach and travel do not go well together ofttimes.”

  She made a face at him and shoved another bite in her mouth. “What you mean to say is that if I eat too many, I shall become as fat as a pig.”

  Both Marcus and Edward glanced at her voluptuous figure. She was neither thi
n nor plump, but in the perfect state in between. Her waist was pleasingly narrow, her hips generous and her breasts large and firm and round. Aye, she was a flawless handful for any man. Much better than those reed-thin, highbred noble wenches. Dustin reeked of health and life and sensuality.

  “I would doubt you could ever become fat,” Marcus said diplomatically.

  Dustin shrugged, eating the last of the apricot pastry. “I suppose Chris would divorce me if I did become fat, or lock me away somewhere.”

  Marcus laughed. “Nay, he would not. I’d take you even then. I rather like round women.”

  She shoved him playfully and he missed the bite he was trying to put in his mouth, smearing it on his cheek instead. She laughed loudly at his misfortune until he turned to her and smeared the rest of the goo on her chin. She jumped back with a yelp, but her laughter overtook her and she was once again screaming with her delightful, happy laugh. Edward stepped back. If this deteriorated, he did not want to get caught in the crossfire.

  It was as he feared. Dustin, seeking revenge, picked up an apple confection full of nuts and dates and charged Marcus, smashing the whole thing right into his face, even shoving nuts up his nose. He sputtered, alternately licking and wiping his face as Dustin laughed herself weak.

  “If you were not my liege’s wife, I would make you lick it off,” he growled, although he was not angry in the least.

  Edward shook his head. “I shall go find something to clean you two up with,” he muttered, disappearing back into the kitchen.

  Dustin was still giggling as Marcus sat down, wiping his face. There was one more pastry left and, unable to resist the temptation, she picked it up and pretended to eat it. Instead, she came around behind him and smashed the whole thing into his face.

  Marcus’ hands flew up and snatched her arms, yanking her so hard that she and the remainder of the pastry flew into his lap. They were both laughing and struggling with each other, not realizing that Dustin had landed in a very compromising position until it was too late.

  Dustin was clutched to Marcus’ chest, her face not an inch from his own goo-smeared one. His cobalt-blue eyes bore into her, as much from shock as from the excitement. Dustin’s face grew very warm as she stared back into his eyes. She didn’t know why she didn’t pull away; it was as if he had somehow hypnotized her. She could not quite seem to tear her eyes away from him and the whole time her mind screamed of the impropriety of it. Christopher was her husband, this man was his vassal – she cared for Chris, not this man she had only known a matter of days.

  But it was more than that. Dustin thought she was going insane, for she had known dozens of suitors and not one of them ever appealed to her. Then she married a man and grew to find him extremely attractive, and then on his heels comes another man she finds attractive, too. But it was of no matter; she knew right from wrong. Sitting on Marcus’ lap was wrong and, awkwardly, she tried to climb off.

  Unfortunately, Marcus had her tightly. She was too close, too beautiful, too tempting. Against his better judgment and all that he stood for, his lips descended on Dustin’s, hard and forceful and firm. There was pastry everywhere on his face, now on hers, and Dustin yanked away from him, twisting free of his grip and stumbling several feet away. Somehow, she ended up on her feet, glaring at him.

  Marcus could only look at her, his eyes as wide as her own. He could still scarcely believe what he had done.

  Dustin stopped glaring and her eyes welled up with confused, frightened tears. “Marcus…,” she breathed, tears spilling over. “How could you do that?”

  Before he could find his tongue and apologize, she dashed up the stairs and he heard the door to her chamber slam. Edward reappeared out of the kitchen, holding a wet cloth.

  “Where is Dustin?” he asked innocently, handing the linen to Marcus.

  Marcus was still in shock. He accepted the cloth and wiped his face clean of the sticky mess. He was struggling to cover up his blunder.

  “Up in her room, I suppose, gathering her things,” he said, unable to look Edward in the eye.

  But Edward was unaware of Marcus’ manner. “Good,” he said. “The sooner we get to London, the better. Chris must feel fairly exposed without his full complement of men.”

  Marcus didn’t reply. He was anxious to get out of there. He set down the cloth and took the stairs to his own room to collect his belongings, leaving Edward to follow him in blissful ignorance.

  *

  Later on the road, Dustin was determined to ignore Marcus. She blamed him for what happened, yet in the same breath she blamed herself and her guilt was terrible. As they rode side by side along the road, she was pleased that he seemed to ignore her, too, and that allowed her to collect her thoughts.

  Dustin was naive, but she wasn’t scatterbrained. She accepted the fact that she found Marcus attractive, and she accepted the fact that she had grown to consider him a friend over the past few days. He had been kind and gentle and attentive to her needs, and she had inadvertently fallen victim to his charms.

  But she missed Christopher terribly. She thought of him constantly and looked forward to the moment when they would be alone together again. When she thought of his hands on her, his hot mouth and scratchy beard, she went warm and liquid inside. The more she thought of Marcus and their kiss, the more she missed her husband. She knew everything would right itself once they were together again. She wondered if he had missed her, too.

  She had been so caught up in her train of thought that she hadn’t seen Marcus steer his destrier over to her until it was too late. She caught a glimpse of the dark-brown animal from the corner of her eye.

  “My lady is quiet,” Marcus said softly.

  “I have nothing to say, my lord,” she replied evenly. “I am trying to conserve my strength for the remainder of our journey.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Dustin, I am sorry. I never meant….”

  She jerked her head around, looking to see who might be around them. Edward and Dud were several yards back, talking between themselves, and the men-at-arms were behind them still. She and Marcus were quite alone where they rode.

  “I do not wish to discuss this, Marcus,” she hissed. “It happened. Leave it at that and we shall get along fine.”

  He sighed. “Aye, it happened, but I wanted you to know I was sorry. I never meant to do it. It just happened somehow.”

  She nodded curtly, her only reply. He watched her as the horses plodded along, her stiff back and taut features.

  “Are you going to treat me like dirt for the rest of my life?” he asked, half in jest.

  She turned to him in irritation, her gray eyes dark. “What is it you want from me, Marcus? Why can’t you simply leave well enough alone?”

  He flipped up his visor, his dark blue eyes riveted to her. “I am going to be serving your husband for a long time, my lady, and it would make both our lives considerably easier if we could move past this incident. I do not want your hostility every time I come near you, for sooner or later Christopher is going to deduce that something is going on and he will demand truths. I, for one, do not wish to divulge this particular moment of weakness. He would be most unforgiving.”

  Dustin’s anger faded and she swallowed hard, looking away. Then she sighed. “I am sorry it happened, too. ’Twas no one’s fault alone.”

  Marcus was greatly relieved. They rode together for a few moments in silence, each feeling the tension draining away between them. But Dustin found the need to clarify something.

  “I…I care for my husband, Marcus,” she said softly, looking at him. “Had I met you first, things might be different, but I did not meet you first and I am married to Christopher. You must understand that.”

  He nodded. “I understand completely,” he said. “Since you are being truthful, I shall be with you. I am intrigued by you, Lady de Lohr, yet it will go no further than that. You have my oath as a knight of the realm.

  She still wouldn’t look at him. She wi
shed he would simply drop the subject. “I believe you.”

  That was the end of their conversation. There were two more days of minor conversation and Dustin avoided Marcus as much as she possibly could. Essentially, they rode together in silence the rest of the way to London with Dustin struggling to forget what had happened.

  Marcus, however, was not. He did not want to forget.

  *

  Windsor Castle

  Built of blond stone with the biggest walls she had ever seen, the sight was enough to fill Dustin with awe and dread. She almost fell off Hercules gazing up at the massive, turreted structure as the party rode in from the northwest and she heard Marcus laugh at her.

  “It’s so big,” she gasped.

  “Aye, it is,” Edward said, riding behind them. “The seat of the great Christian Empire.”

  Dustin shook her head, overwhelmed with the all of it. As they rode under the portcullis of the western gatehouse, soldiers yelled of their arrival and Dustin swore she had never seen so much activity in all her life. There were hundreds, even thousands, of men everywhere and it suddenly dawned on her that her husband was in charge of all of them. It was nearly too much to comprehend. She very much wanted to see her husband at that moment.

  “Do you see Chris, Marcus?” she asked excitedly.

  “He will not be out here on the walls, my lady,” Marcus replied. “More than likely, he is over in the practice arena or in the knight’s quarters. We’ll find him.”

  Even more than her excitement of arriving at Windsor, she found she was shaking with excitement to see her husband. She had felt so lost without him, and the whole incident with Marcus had frightened her. The past three days of travel had been hellish and she was anxious to find comfort in his arms.

  As they approached the massive round keep of the castle, several stewards in silk tunics and hose came rushing out to greet them. Dud and Edward took charge of the men-at-arms as Marcus helped Dustin dismount. There were servants dashing about everywhere, stripping her belongings off her horse and unloading the wagon.