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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He didn’t have a clue.

  Women were mysterious creatures, indeed.

  “My lady, may I ask one question before I go?” he said. “Purely out of courtesy, may I beg you to give me a truthful answer?”

  Emilie was coming to feel quite emotional. Her guts were churning and she felt very much like weeping. The man was so strong and proud and beautiful, and to see him standing so near her was nearly more than she could bear. It was foolish, really; so ridiculous and foolish, the way she felt about a man she barely knew. Embarrassed he had sucked her in with his charm, embarrassed that she hadn’t been smart enough to see behind the bright de Lohr façade.

  “I will always give you a truthful answer,” she said hoarsely. “I do not lie.”

  “I did not mean to imply that you did.”

  “What is your question?”

  He sighed faintly. “Only an hour ago you were quite happy,” he said softly. “You were not afraid to look at me and you very eagerly gave me your favor. What has happened in this sweet and brief hour that should see you unable to look me in the eye and taking your favor back?”

  Emilie thought on the question. She had promised to be truthful but she didn’t want to sound like an idiot in telling him the truth, so she turned the tables on him. Perhaps he was the one who needed to clarify things, not her.

  “I will answer your question if you answer mine,” she said. “Who was the woman in the royal box that was waving to you?”

  “My brother’s wife, Lady Dustin.”

  My brother’s wife. Emilie lifted her head to look at him, seeing the utter truth in his sky-blue eyes. He had answered without hesitation and that was not the behavior of a man with something to hide. My brother’s wife… Sweet Mary, had she really jumped to such conclusions about the man? Barely knowing him yet behaving as if he somehow belonged to her, as if he somehow owed her something? In her haste, she could see she’d made an ass out of herself. She wanted to find a hole to climb into, something very deep and dark, where David’s beautiful eyes wouldn’t see her.

  Oh, the folly of it….

  “Your brother’s wife?” she repeated, as if she had to hear it out loud once more to confirm what an utter idiot she had been. “This is the same woman who was attacked last night?”

  David nodded. “Aye,” he said. “She sustained a sword wound to her leg but she will heal. She is here at the field and not resting as she is supposed to be because she bullied my brother into allowing her to come. She can be quite petulant some times. Now, will you answer my question? What has happened in the past hour that you would take your favor back? What have I done?”

  Emilie was cornered. She had no choice but to tell him, now knowing for certain that he would walk away from her and only remember the memory of Emilie Hampton to be a disturbing and silly one. She swallowed hard before answering.

  “You have done nothing,” she said quietly, looking him in the eye but having difficulty doing it. “It is my fault. I am the one who has done something. You see, I saw you speak with the woman in the royal box, the familiarity you had with each other, and I thought that… suffice it to say that I thought dishonorable things about you. I thought you were using my favor in secret, mayhap to even make the lady in the royal box jealous. I did not know she was your brother’s wife. To be truthful, it is not my place to think such things because I do not know you beyond the contact we have had today, so it is my grave mistake to have assumed such things. I do not expect forgiveness, my lord, and shan’t ask for it. I have behaved abominably.”

  By the time she was finished, David was looking at her with a faint smirk on his face. After a moment, he chuckled, shaking his head.

  “Is that what you thought?” he asked.

  Emilie nodded firmly. “I did.”

  He chuckled again. “When I brought my horse up in front of the lists, there must have been thirty women throwing favors at me,” he said. “But I only had eyes for you. Did that not tell you that, mayhap, I am not the type to have multiple women, and most especially multiple women in the same place? That would be utter suicide.”

  Emilie wasn’t sure just how angry he was. She expected that he would be quite angry and she knew she deserved it. “As I said, I have only really met you today,” she said. “I do not know your true character but I should not have thought so poorly of you without knowing more about you. Again, you have my sincerest apologies.”

  David still had the same lazy smile on his face as he’d had when she’d first admitted her issue. Silently, he retraced his steps, closing the gap between them. Thoughtfully, he stroked his chin.

  “Are you truly sorry?” he asked.

  Emilie nodded without hesitation. “I am.”

  “Prove it. Give me back your favor.”

  The kerchief was still in Emilie’s hand and she lifted it, extending it to him. David’s eyes never left hers as he took it from her fingers, bringing it to his nose again. He inhaled deeply and tucked it back into his tunic, in a safe spot near his heart. Before she could lower her hand, however, he took it and held it, all the while gazing into the woman’s eyes.

  “Shall I tell you something about me now?” he asked. “You said that you hardly knew me, which is true, so mayhap I should tell you something about me so that you will know I do not make sport of women’s feelings. Not to say that I am celibate, for that is not the case at all. Like any other man, I appreciate a beautiful woman, but not more than one at a time. I do not do well in group situations. If a woman has my attention, then it is all of my attention and not merely some of it.”

  Emilie was quivering as he gently held her fingers; she’d known a man or two to hold her hand, of course, but not like this. Never like this. It was as if something wild and fluid was tearing through David’s veins and flowing into hers. His touch made her tremble.

  “I believe you,” she said. “Truly, you do not have to tell me your entire life story, my lord. Your life is your own and I suppose I shall learn more about you as time permits. You do not need to tell me everything now.”

  His face fell dramatically. “Then you do not wish to hear my great stories of valor?” he asked. “I spent three years in The Levant with Richard; I have many great stories from my adventures in that land. There was the time when my patrol was ambushed by Saracen madmen and I saved the entire patrol by diverting the ambush. Thank God my horse was faster than any of theirs, else I would not be here to tell the story. My horse and I had to hide out for three days while they chased us before I was able to make it back to my army.”

  Emilie was grinning. “How brave,” she said, suspecting he wanted to hear praise. They seemed to be quickly heading back to the mood they’d established earlier in the day, in this precise spot, when she had flirted with him but he’d remained rather indifferent to it. Or at least pretended to be. Now, she could see that perhaps he hadn’t been resistant in the least. “I am sure that was only one of many times when you were forced to show your courage beyond that of a normal man’s.”

  He nodded. “That is true,” he said without modesty. “The sands of The Levant were meant for men to prove their mettle. It is not for the weak of heart. There was both victory and heartache there.”

  He seemed to subdue a bit, as if remembering the heartache more than the victory. Something in his expression clouded over and she hastened to lighten the mood, for both their sakes.

  “I hope that someday you will honor me with details of your adventures there,” she said. “My father mentioned that you and your brother had only recently returned.”

  David nodded. “Last month,” he said. “Strange; it seems as if we have been home for a very long time. It doesn’t seem as if much has changed here since we were away.”

  Emilie lifted her eyebrows curiously. “Do you miss The Levant that much?”

  He shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “But we were there for three long years… long years. Now that we are home, I will be truthful when I say that it is almost diso
rienting. Much since our return has been disorienting.”

  “Such as?”

  He glanced at her, thinking the obvious. It was becoming easier to talk to her and he spoke before he could stop himself. “My brother was given his wife by King Richard,” he said. “He married her almost as soon as we returned. That situation is still taking some getting used to.”

  Emilie could see that the idea distressed him. She had no idea why, but it was clear that he seemed somewhat emotional about it. She smiled at him, once again trying to lighten the mood that seemed to be taking a heady turn.

  “And the king did not gift you with a bride?” she asked, feigning outrage. “I am shocked. I should think that your actions in diverting the ambush you spoke of would warrant a very rich bride.”

  David smiled weakly at her. “I will select my own bride, thank you very much,” he said. “I do not need our king to consign one to me as one would consign unwanted baggage.”

  Emilie laughed softly. “Is that what you think of a wife? Unwanted baggage?”

  David shrugged, somewhat coyly now that they were on to his least-favorite subject – a wife. “I am not the type of man to have a wife,” he said. “There is too much to do for king and country, and it would be cruel to leave a wife alone as I completed my duty. My brother thought that way, too, until Richard forced his wife upon him. Nowadays, he must think of her at every turn. For so many years, it was just the two of us completing our duty and now… well, you do not wish to hear any of this, do you? My apologies for rambling on.”

  Emilie shook her head, evidently greatly interested in what he had to say. She was indeed learning a great deal about him, including his opinion on marriage, and she tried not to let that bother her. Perhaps with the right woman….

  “No need,” she said. “But I can understand how the introduction of your brother’s wife had upset the balance in returning home.”

  He looked at her, a light of warmth glimmering in his eyes. “That is a very good way of putting it,” he said. “The balance has been upset but it will right itself again, I am sure. While I am waiting for that to happen, I am enjoying my return home and I am enjoying this tournament. Can I implore you to return with me now? I should like my good luck charm in the stands when I make my next bout.”

  Emilie grinned, smiling sheepishly as she did so. Enchanted, and thrilled that things were well between them again, he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her from the walkway, out into the alley, and then back out into the avenue beyond. It was busy in the street as he led her back in the direction of the lists, his heart feeling lighter and happier than it had in a very long time.

  In spite of Emilie’s apologies to the contrary, he was very flattered that she’d thought enough of him to be jealous over his interaction with his brother’s wife. It was true that jealousy was not a particularly pleasant emotion, but in this case, he took it to mean that it was because Emilie was warming to him just as he was warming to her. He was very glad he had her attention because she certainly had his, and he kept turning to glance at her as they walked down the avenue, grinning at her when she would smile, shyly, and look away. It really was rather sweet, the delicate orchestrations of flirtation that he was becoming more comfortable with. Once out of practice, he was quickly gaining his feet again. They were just nearing the lists when he heard someone call his name.

  “David!”

  David came to a halt and turned swiftly, seeing Edward de Wolfe running in his direction. De Wolfe was sporting a massive bruise on his forehead as he came upon David, who peered closely at his head.

  “Jesus,” he hissed. “What happened to you?”

  Edward was pale. “I was unseated in my bout right after yours,” he said. “Where have you been?”

  David looked at Emilie. “Lady Emilie required an escort,” he said simply, returning his focus to Edward. “Why? Was someone looking for me?”

  Edward shook his head, grunting wearily as he did so. “Nay,” he said. “But there is much to tell, much you should be aware of. You must come with me. Now.”

  David could hear the tension in Edward’s tone but it also bordered on rude, at least as far as Emilie was concerned. He was brushing her off as if she was unimportant and David wasn’t sure he liked that.

  “I will after I have seated Lady Emilie,” he said steadily. “Wait for me here.”

  Edward was clearly impatient. “Hurry, then.”

  David was about to take a step towards the lists but Edward’s tone had him perplexed as well as moderately unhappy. It was as if the man was ordering him about, agitated, and clearly eager to be rid of Lady Emilie. He frowned.

  “Edward, if you have something to say, tell me now,” he said. “Otherwise, I will return in good time once I have seated Lady Emilie.”

  With that, he started to move towards the stairs leading up the lists once again but Edward’s voice stopped him.

  “Brentford is dead,” he said.

  David came to a halt and looked at him, eyes wide. “What’s this you say?” he breathed, incredulous. “Brentford is dead?”

  Edward nodded, his pale face even paler. “Remember what we were told about the men John had hired to compete against us as legitimate knights?” he asked, watching David bob his head. “Dennis de la Londe was one of them. Dennis the Destroyer broke Brentford’s neck in a completely illegal move not ten minutes ago. The marshals have disqualified him but John overrode their decision, saying it was an accident. We all know it was not, but John’s ruling stands. Now the man has advanced to the next round along with you, Christopher, Leeton, and Thomas Dudley. At some point, one of you may go against him and your brother wants to talk to you. Now, will you come with me?”

  David was stunned by Brentford’s death. His friend had been alive and well only minutes earlier; he’d spoken to the man right after they’d drawn lots and Brentford had said nothing about drawing Dennis de la Londe as an opponent. Dennis the Destroyer. That was what the man was called, a French mercenary who had fought with Phillip Augustus in the Holy Land, now returned to England as a paid assassin. There was no other way to put it; Dennis went where the money was and killed whomever he was paid to kill. In this case, it had been Brentford le Bec.

  Dennis being back in England, and at this tournament in particular, was very bad news, indeed. But David thought it rather strange that no one had mentioned Dennis’ name, or had even seen him, up until now. Dennis was well known to the knighthood as a wicked and immoral and, worse yet, a very skilled warrior. Still reeling from the news, David struggled against the sorrow over his friend’s death and nodded his head, sharply.

  “Give me a few moments,” he said. “I will join you.”

  Edward simply stood there as David took Emilie up the steps leading to the lists. He didn’t even stop to think that Emilie had heard everything Edward had said; he was lost to his own thoughts, of Brentford’s death and of Dennis de la Londe’s behavior, when he happened to look at Emilie. Her eyes were wide on him, her brow furrowed with concern. When she caught him looking at her, she tried to amend her expression but it was too late. He had seen it. When their eyes met, he forced a smile.

  “Nothing to worry over,” he told her with as much confidence as he could muster. “There are always unscrupulous knights at these events. We will weed them out, so you needn’t worry.”

  Emilie forced a smile in return. “I can only imagine the type of men these competitions attract,” she said. “The purse is rather large, is it not?”

  David nodded. “It is,” he agreed. “Therefore, every fool who can joust will enter hoping to win money. But they are eliminated in the end.”

  “They are?”

  “Aye, they are – by me. I intend to win everything.”

  The arrogance was back in his tone and she laughed; she couldn’t help it. The man had an immeasurable amount of price. But she also suspected he was trying to alleviate the very worrisome things she heard coming from de Wolfe and she
was touched that he should be so concerned for her feelings. In fact, she was touched by his actions in general, for he did not have to seek her out when she ran from the lists nor did he have to explain himself. He could have very well walked away from her, but he didn’t. To her, that showed the mark of a noble and compassionate man, and she felt very bad for the ills she’d thought of him. It was utterly her foolishness and she knew it, vowing to never thing poorly of the man again unless he earned it.

  Nathalie, Elise, and Lillibet were open-mouthed when the mighty David de Lohr re-seated Emilie next to her sister and politely kissed her hand before he left the lists. Emilie sat there with a big fat smile on her face, realizing that not only were her sisters shocked at David’s appearance, but so were half the young women in the lists. All of those women who had been tossing their favors at David gazed upon the one who actually managed to capture the knight’s attention and some of them were looking at Emilie rather hostilely. She stuck her tongue out at a pair of women who were shooting her particularly nasty expressions.

  Victory was sweet, indeed.

  When the nasty women looked away, incensed, Emilie went back to smiling. She simply couldn’t help it. But she was unaware that spurned young women weren’t the only people who had seen David de Lohr escort her back to her seat.

  From the royal box, Ralph Fitz Walter had seen it, too.

  He tucked the information away until it was the right time to act on it.

  CHAPTER SIX