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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Obviously you do not understand words at all, otherwise you would have respected my wishes,” she snapped. “Get out of my sight before I do more than rub custard in your face.”

  Surprisingly, the mummer didn’t react except to stand there with his mouth agape. Then, in a silly move, he licked his lips and face, smacking loudly. “Mmmm. Tasty, tasty. As tasty as you, lion tamer?”

  Marcus was half out of his chair before the mummers frolicked away, their mood unspoiled.

  “Sit down,” Christopher tugged on her arm.

  “Are you going to let them get away with that?” she demanded.

  “Sit!” He pulled hard and she plopped into her chair. Then, to Dustin’s amazement, he put his big arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him, lips against her ear. “John sent them over here to get a rise out of me. I shall not oblige him.”

  She looked up at him, her face so close she could feel his heat. “And I did. I apologize.”

  He smiled softly. “I expect no less from you, Lady de Lohr. Those mummers had better run for their lives.”

  She grinned, embarrassed. Knowing how he felt about public displays of affection, she was feeling warm and giddy with his nearness in front of a roomful of strangers.

  “You are very close,” she murmured.

  “Aye, I am.”

  “Are you going to kiss me in front of the prince?”

  He did, tenderly and sweetly. To hell with his restraint; John and Ralph already knew that he was smitten with her and there was no use in pretending otherwise. He remembered the mummer’s words, thinking the term Achilles’ heel to be quite apt. She was his one and only weakness, and the sooner he acknowledged that, the better to deal with it. He realized he was finished resisting her. There was no point. He was a much happier man embracing the joy of emotion than denying it. It made him feel strong and empowered.

  He was going in for another kiss when a figure stood in front of the table, interrupting. Christopher looked up to see William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke. The tall, older man was Richard’s marshal, of greater rank than Christopher and was more an administrator than warrior. Christopher had had a long, arduous meeting with William the very day he arrived in England, even before he had delivered Richard’s message to John. William was a man of good moral character who understood John’s ambitions better than anyone, and despised him greatly.

  “I have a need to speak with you, baron,” he said quietly, barely acknowledging Dustin.

  Christopher took his arm off his wife and rose steadily, concerned with the look in the marshal’s eye. “Of course, my lord.” He turned quickly to Marcus. “Entertain my wife until I return.”

  Marcus agreed, his eyes riveted to Christopher and the marshal as they left the hall, knowing that something was amiss from the stiff stance of the earl. He wondered darkly what fresh new hell they were about to enter. William Marshal and a stiff stance could only convey something very bad.

  Dustin’s eyes followed her husband, hoping he would return shortly and having no idea who the older man was. She also had no idea that the eyes of John were on her, raking over her beauty and trying to formulate a plan for getting the baron’s wife alone again. Every time he saw her, his lust for her grew. He hoped the tournament tomorrow would provide such an opportunity. If truth be known, the only man in the realm he did fear other than his brother was Christopher, yet he knew that the baron could not punish him in any way should he lay hands on his nubile young wife. John had bedded the wives of earls and dukes, and all were powerless to revenge him. But de Lohr was different; the pure presence of the man intimidated and angered him at the same time.

  He knew how to seek revenge for Ralph. True, they had planned to abduct the woman anyway, but to seek true revenge rather than use her for a pawn was never the original objective. The purpose was now altered.

  As John plotted and schemed, William Marshal took Christopher into a small antechamber, one of a hundred in Windsor. Music from the great dining hall could still be heard even when William closed the door and faced the expectant Defender. The mood was already grim.

  “Chris, we have just received word from Palestine,” he said softly. “There is no easy way to tell you this, lad, so I shall come out with it. Richard is missing.”

  Christopher’s brow furrowed. “Missing? What do you mean?”

  “He sailed from Acre to the coast of Corsica and simply disappeared,” the earl replied. “His general believes him to be traveling across the continent incognito, trying to reach his Duchy of Normandy before crossing to England, but no one is certain.”

  “Damn,” Christopher hissed, relaxing against a massive oaken table. “Why would he do that when he knows Duke Leopold of Austria is out for his blood? Not to mention Emperor Henry, or Philip Augustus. Christ, they are all out for his hide. Why would he chance such a stupid action?”

  “Richard is a wise man, Chris,” William replied, as perplexed as the baron was but trying to remain confident in Richard’s ability. “He must have had damn good reasons whatever they might be. The fact remains that John is going to run rampant with this knowledge.”

  Christopher’s handsome face was grave, his eyes dark. “What do you suspect?”

  The earl shrugged, examining a particularly fine chair. “He’s already amassed quite a mercenary army, you know.”

  “I know, but how large? My sources tell me conflicting stories,” Christopher said. “And how in the hell is he paying these cutthroats?”

  “His loyalists,” William said frankly. “He has some very wealthy backers, Chris, and they are feeding their wealth directly into his coffers. Believe me, he has the means to pay an army. A massive army, nearly ten thousand men as near as we can gather.”

  Christopher nodded. “I’d been told that,” he said. “But I have not been in England long enough to verify the information myself.”

  “You have had other things to attend to,” William acknowledged, then fixed him with a reluctant gaze. “But that’s not the only problem. ’Tis rumored that John is trying to establish an alliance with Philip Augustus which, if successful, will supply him with almost limitless power and men.”

  Christopher sighed heavily, studying his boots for a moment. “I fought with the French king in Palestine,” he said. “He and Richard were like two roosters, each vying for the dominant position. There is no love lost between them and he will surely find allies in Richard’s enemies. Leopold is out for Richard’s blood for what he did to him at Acre,” he shook his head slowly. “Richard is in danger of losing his throne, isn’t he? With his disappearance, ’twill be easier for John to claim the kingdom.”

  William nodded. “I am afraid that is what it will come down to,” he said quietly, sitting in the chair he had been examining. “Richard has very powerful allies, his largest being the church. But if he is missing and presumed dead, then there is no use defending a kingdom for a dead king. John will rule.”

  Christopher stared thoughtfully at the floor for several long, pregnant minutes. Neither man spoke, the severity of the situation sinking in and a great cloud of doom settling.

  “Does John know yet?” he asked.

  “When I sought you, he had yet to be informed,” William replied. “But that may have changed since then.”

  Christopher sat still a moment longer before pushing himself off the table and crossing his arms. “It would seem to me that if Richard is missing, then someone should go looking for him. As his champion, it must be me.”

  “Nay, lad, not you,” William said firmly. “As his champion, it is important you stay here and control the crown’s troops so that John cannot use them. If you leave, there will be no one to stop him. You cannot appoint your own replacement; only Richard can do that.”

  “We cannot simply sit here while Richard may be in grave danger,” Christopher said passionately in the first real display of emotion. “He very well may require assistance.”

  “There is nothing you can do,” William
said. “Even if you were to find him, ’twould be you and he against the whole of the continent. You said yourself that Leopold and Henry and Philip were out to get hm. You alone could not defend him against every troop on the continent, formidable as you are. And most certainly if he is traveling in disguise, don’t you think that Richard’s champion riding into France and Germany would attract attention?”

  Christopher looked at him a moment, hard, before turning away in frustration. He kicked at the floor, scuffing his boots. “So what do we do, my lord?”

  “At the moment, nothing,” William replied. “The justices will be meeting on the morrow regarding this crisis, I am sure. I go now to deliver the message personally to all of them.”

  Christopher turned to him. “ ’Twill take you all night. Allow me to assist you in this so that we may both be in bed before the sun breaks the horizon.”

  “I would be grateful,” William admitted, rising. “I am not as young as I used to be; not as young as you.”

  Christopher snorted. “At thirty-five years, I am hardly young. Richard is a mere three years older than myself.”

  “You are young,” the earl insisted with a weary smile. “When you reach my age, you will know what old is. By the way, Chris, I have not had the chance to congratulate you on your marriage to Lord Barringdon’s daughter. A fine match.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Christopher mumbled.

  William moved for the door, eyeing Christopher. “You know, if I were you, I would return her to Lioncross. ’Tis not safe for such a beautiful woman here in John’s court. The prince will set his sights on her, if he hasn’t already.”

  Christopher’s jaw ticked. “I am well aware of the prince’s lust,” he replied. “As for returning her to Lioncross, I feel better able to protect her here. My knights are with me and she is never alone, whereas at Lioncross there is less protection.”

  William’s hand rested on the door latch and Christopher stopped, facing him in the dim room. “Chris, before John makes his move to seize Richard’s holdings, you must leave Windsor and return to your keep if you expect to preserve your life. He shall go after everyone loyal to his brother, especially ranking officials such as you and myself.”

  “I can handle John’s mercenaries,” Christopher said confidently. “Yet in faith, the only thing that concerns me is if John does indeed ascend the throne. My only hope is that he will allow me to live out my life in England in peace, although I have grave doubts that that will be the case. I fear I may find myself fleeing to Ireland or Scotland.”

  “All of us, lad,” William smiled wryly and opened the door. “ ’Twould make a fine commune living amongst Richard’s ousted loyalists. Now, I shall deliver the messages to the clergy justices. That leaves you with the nobles.”

  Christopher nodded curtly. “Most of which are at Windsor, except for a very few. I should be done by midnight at the latest.”

  “Waste no time,” William said. “I will see you on the morrow.”

  Christopher left the marshal and made his way back to the fragrant and stuffy dining hall. His great sense of foreboding was overshadowed by the urgency he felt. The feast had finished and the orchestra was filling the hall with a lively tune. As he moved toward his wife, he made sure to take note that John had already left the hall and his sense of urgency multiplied.

  Dustin smiled happily as he approached the table and was pleasantly surprised when he bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

  “I have business to attend to, sweet,” he said in a low voice, though there was no mistaking the serious tone. “Marcus, will you see my wife safely to our apartments?”

  “Of course, my lord,” Marcus replied, deeply curious as to the marshal’s message but knowing better than to ask.

  Dustin, however, looked crestfallen. “Where are you going?”

  He glanced at Marcus a moment before forcing a smile at his wife. “Do not concern yourself,” he said, kissing her cheek again. “I shall return as quickly as I can. Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

  He left quickly so she could not ask him any more questions. However, outside the hall beneath the blanket of brilliant stars, Marcus caught up to him.

  “What’s happened?” he demanded.

  “Who’s with Dustin?” Christopher countered sharply.

  “Edward and Leeton,” Marcus replied. “She is fine. Now tell me what’s happened.”

  Christopher glanced about to make sure there were no prying ears. “Richard’s missing,” he said grimly. “He disappeared from his ship off the coast of Corsica and William thinks he may be traveling inland to Normandy. I go now to deliver the message to the noble justices.”

  Marcus closed his eyes briefly and crossed himself with his good hand. “Dear God, with half the continent after him it will be a miracle if he survives.”

  Christopher nodded. “Keep close watch on Dustin and yourselves,” he warned quietly. “John will undoubtedly try testing his reins of power now that Richard has vanished and I fear his first move will be against his enemies, Richard’s allies. Find David and Dud immediately and warn them of the events, but let the information go no further this night.”

  “Rest easy, Chris, your wife is in good hands,” Marcus assured him. “We won’t leave her until you return.”

  “Thank you.” Christopher slapped him on the shoulder and left him standing in the hall, wondering grimly what the state of the country would be in come the dawn.

  Marcus sent two soldiers in search of David and returned to Dustin, who was seated between Leeton and Edward, watching the dancing before her. She smiled politely as Marcus took his seat.

  “Are you a dancer, my lady? Surely you must be.” Marcus didn’t want her pestering him about Christopher and immediately delved into another subject. “Edward is a fine dancer, aren’t you, de Wolfe?”

  Edward waved him off. “Of course I am, but if I were to dance at this moment, my entire dinner would come up.”

  Dustin shook her head. “I learned to dance as a child, like every well-bred young lady, but I haven’t danced since then. I do not remember how.”

  “A travesty,” Marcus said gravely. “The most beautiful woman in the kingdom has forgotten how to dance.”

  Dustin grinned and shrugged, watching the women’s surcoats twirling before her. In faith, she would love to dance but she knew all eyes would be upon her and she would only end up embarrassing herself. So she watched, content for the moment, and enjoyed the company. Yet her mind was with her husband, wherever he had gone and hoping he wasn’t in any danger. Danger seemed to follow him.

  Time passed and songs were played, people enjoyed themselves. Dustin had imbibed a bit too much wine and was enjoying herself immensely, laughing and joking with the three knights at her side. David, Dud and Trent joined the group eventually and Marcus took David aside to explain the latest developments. David, as always, overreacted but controlled himself for the sake of appearance. Feeling particularly protective over Dustin with his brother about, he seated himself directly behind her and kept detached from the conversation as his eyes roved the hall for John’s henchmen.

  Almost as soon as David took his seat, a young woman approached the table and curtsied deeply in front of them. They all eyed her suspiciously, except for Dustin and Edward. Edward thought her to be quite lovely and Dustin simply wasn’t naturally distrustful. The woman was tall and her luxurious blond hair was pulled back primly. When she looked up, Dustin thought there something familiar about her eyes but could not place her.

  “Do not you even recognize your own family, David?” the girl said. “I realize that it has been over five years, but surely I have not changed that much.”

  David’s eyes widened and he shot to his feet. “Deborah!” he croaked, vaulting over the table and taking the woman into his arms. “Jesus Christ, it is you. But…we still believed you to be in Bath. What are you doing here?”

  The Lady Deborah Valeria du Reims de Lohr smiled, her smile exactly like her el
dest brother’s. With her lovely blue eyes and pert nose, she was a beauty.

  “The tourney, of course,” she answered her brother. “I came with the earl and his wife. I only heard upon our arrival this day that you and Christopher were here. Where is our illustrious big brother?”

  David was still flabbergasted. He hadn’t seen his sister since she had been twelve years old, and the gawky girl he remembered did not resemble this exquisite creature in the least. “He’s about,” he answered. “Jesus, Deborah, I still cannot believe it is really you. Christopher will be thrilled.”

  “Not as thrilled as I was to hear that our Lord kept you safe in the Holy Land,” Deborah said, studying her brother’s face. “Christopher’s reputation has been a great source of pride for me. How magnificent he must be.”

  David nodded, recovering his shock and remembering Dustin. “Ask his wife,” he said, indicating Lady de Lohr on the other side of the table. “This is Chris’ wife, Deborah, the Lady Dustin Barringdon de Lohr.”

  Deborah’s eyes fairly sparkled as her gaze settled on Dustin. Dustin rose, feeling the love and acceptance flowing from the woman even though they had just met. It was an unusual, wonderful experience and she felt as if she should throw her arms around her newly-found sister-in-law.

  “Lady Dustin, ’tis indeed an honor to meet you,” she said sincerely. “I had no idea my brother had married and I apologize that I have no wedding favor for you, a situation I will immediately remedy. But please accept my congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” Dustin replied. “I am so happy to meet you, Lady Deborah. Will you be staying in London long?”

  “A week or so, mayhap,” Deborah said. “Long enough for us to get to know one another. I finally have a sister!”

  She clapped her hands together gleefully and the entire group laughed at her delight. David pulled up a chair for his sister and she joined their conversation, sitting next to Dustin as if she had known her all her life.

  Dustin liked her immediately. She was cultured and vivacious and her blue eyes twinkled the same way her older brother’s blue ones did when she smiled. She was very lovely in a subdued sort of way, a creamy, glowing beauty. Dustin realized quickly that she did not want Lady Deborah to return to Bath and would speak to her husband about it forthright. She wanted Lady Deborah to return with them to Lioncross Abbey.