But David knew Emilie was watching him. In fact, he was watching her, too, and had positioned himself so that all he had to do was flick his eyes over to his right and see her full-on. Several times she turned to look at him and smile coyly, and each time he would wink boldly at her. It was a game they played, just the two of them in the midst of all of these people, until Dustin caught on and began to tease Emilie about it.
It was sweet teasing, nothing terribly nasty, and David grinned as Emilie flushed. As he watched Dustin and Emilie giggle, suddenly, he could see them all at Lioncross Abbey, sitting around the feasting table on a cold winter’s night, laughing and teasing one another as a family would. And then they would all retire for the evening, David taking Emilie to their bedchamber where he would ravage her until dawn, as his wife.
Was it possible he could find satisfaction in such a thing? His thinking was starting to change. He was coming to think he could be very satisfied with Emilie as his wife. Clearly, he couldn’t stomach the alternative.
Brickley’s wife….
*
As David fought off dreams of marriage and Emilie laughed as Dustin and Deborah teased, Nathalie was embroiled in her own situation.
The middle Hampton sister was only interested in one thing – Brickley. He had escorted her sister to the mask and now the man was nowhere to be found, which disappointed her greatly. In her lovely green garment with her hair artfully arranged, she felt old and wise and beautiful at sixteen years of age. There were many couples dancing and she wanted very much to dance with Brickley. She certainly didn’t want the embarrassment of dancing with her father, who was laughing and conversing with the de Lohr men. There was quite a party going around her on but Nathalie only had Brickley on her mind.
She had to find him.
She couldn’t imagine that he’d gone too far off. As the hum of conversation went on around her, Nathalie searched the room for any sign of Brickley and finally spied him over near a table that was crowded with pitchers of wine and men drinking from them. He was standing with two of de Lohr’s knights, seemingly in deep conversation with them. Nathalie sighed with satisfaction at the sight of Brickley; he was perhaps not as handsome as some, but he had a quality about him that was difficult to resist. At least, she thought it was difficult to resist. And tonight, she intended to do something about it. Brickley had avoided her long enough.
Excusing herself from the table with the fabricated explanation of seeking the garderobe, she headed in the direction that Dustin had indicated for such a thing but quickly changed her path when no one was looking. She ducked in behind a group of people, winding her way to the table where Brickley was standing. By the time she got there, the men were drinking steadily and Brickley seemed to mostly be listening rather than talking. Summoning her courage, she walked up to the three men.
“Good evening, Brick,” she said, smiling sweetly at him. She looked to the other two men, whom she had seen but didn’t really know except for the dark-haired man. She remembered him from the day of the tournament. She curtsied to them. “Good evening, my lords.”
Brickley took one look at Nathalie, sighed heavily, and downed what was left in his cup. “You and your sister look quite lovely this evening,” he said, although it was forced. He wasn’t about to compliment her singularly, given that the girl was far gone smitten with him. He didn’t want to encourage her. Aye, he knew about it; he had since her infatuation with him started months ago and he found his patience with her had been dwindling as of late. “Edward and Leeton, this is Lady Nathalie Hampton, Lady Emilie’s younger sister.”
Edward and Leeton politely greeted Nathalie as Brickley set his cup down and pointed to the table where Emilie sat. “You should be with the women,” he said. “Your father will not be pleased to find you standing with three knights and a table filled with wine.”
He said it somewhat humorously, trying to joke about it, and therefore Nathalie didn’t take him seriously. “He will not mind that I am standing with you,” she said. “Brick, will you please dance with me? I wish to dance but I do not want to do it with Papa. That would be too embarrassing.”
Brickley, with alcohol in his veins, didn’t have as much control as he usually had. He made a face, rolled his eyes, and made it very clear he did not want to dance. “Please permit me to decline,” he said. “I am in no mood for dancing. I am sure there are any number of young men here who would be happy to be your partner. If you point one out, I will approach him for you.”
Nathalie’s face clouded. “But I do not want to dance with anyone else,” she said, giving him a rather pathetic expression. “Please, Brick? Just one dance?”
Her hands were on him now, pleading, and he peeled them off of his forearm and turned her for the table where her sister sat. “Nay,” he said firmly. “Go sit with Emilie and leave me in peace.”
He hadn’t meant to say the last part. It just came out. When he realized what he had said and saw the expression on her face, he hastened to make amends but Nathalie was already too hurt to let him. Her mouth flew open in outrage.
“Leave you in peace?” she repeated, shocked and hurt. “I… I… fine, then! I shall never speak to you again!”
She stomped off before Brickley could say a word. He watched her go, shaking his head and not being particularly careful about hiding his annoyance.
“That one is a problem,” he said. “She follows me everywhere, looks at me with the most sickening besotted expressions you have ever seen, and simply will not give me a moment’s peace. But now she will tell her father what I said and he will not give me a moment’s peace for insulting her.”
Edward and Leeton were watching Nathalie stomp away, heading for the de Lohr table. Both knights had various expressions of amusements on their faces. “She is not an unattractive girl, Brick,” Edward said. “How old is she?”
Brickley rolled his eyes and poured himself another cup of wine. “She has seen sixteen summers,” he said. “But do not let her blonde looks fool you; she is the devil.”
He hissed the word devil as if describing a terrible and hideous creature, causing Leeton and Edward to laugh. “Why should you say such things?” Leeton asked. “She seems sweet enough.”
Brickley was swallowing his wine. “That is where she fools people,” he said. “Ever since I have known that girl, she and her younger sister have been up to tricks. Honey in my pillow, eggs in my helm, bees in my pockets. They have made my life miserable for ten years and now she is smitten with me? She should have thought of that before she put charcoal all over my gloves and allowed me to wipe my face with them. The black mixed with the sweat on my skin and I had a black-shadowed face for a week before it would all come off. Nay, I shall not be lulled into a false sense of security by that one. I’d sooner take her over my knee and spank her than dance with her, the little demon.”
Edward and Leeton were still laughing about the tricks Nathalie had allegedly played on Brickley. As Brickley launched into a tale about more tricks from the mind of Nathalie and Elise, Nathalie had managed to reach her sister and plopped back down in her seat. She kept glancing over at Brickley, who was speaking quite animatedly as Edward and Leeton laughed uproariously.
Embarrassed, and thinking that Brickley was telling terrible tales about her, she faced the women at the table, not wanting to see the man who had spurned her. She involved herself in the ladies’ conversation simply to show Brickley that he couldn’t hurt her, that his rejection didn’t matter in the least. But the truth was that it did.
Unhappy, she pretended to be involved in the conversation with Dustin and Emilie but in truth she was pondering her next step in the quest to win Brickley’s heart.
*
John and Ralph and their group of shady characters arrived late, as usual, and the prince made a grand occasion out of his first dance. He acted as a child in a sweet shop, pretending to be very selective with the women he would dance with. His faze fell on Dustin and he smiled, but one glimp
se of Christopher’s face sent him on his way. Christopher watched the man like a hawk as he made a move for a lovely brunette on the opposite side of the room. When the carol was over, John returned the woman to her friends and retreated to the dais with his collection of liars and murderers.
There was tension in the room, undeniably now that John and Richard’s supporters were all collected in the same hall, but a pretty ballad started, distracting the crowd from the angst surrounding the presence of prince, and the women all bound to their feet, all except Dustin. She looked confused as the ladies around her insisted she rise and dance with them.
“Dance?” Dustin sputtered. “But….but I haven’t danced in ages. I do not remember how.”
“This is a woman’s dance, Dustin,” Anne said, taking her arm. “Just follow what we do and I promise you shall love it.”
Christopher stood up, the first time all evening, and eyed the women sternly as they attempted to persuade his wife to retreat with them to the dance floor.
“I have forbidden her to dance, ladies,” he said firmly.
Deborah looked up at him. “But why, Chris? There is no harm in dancing.”
He sighed, looking his wife in the eye. Not all of the women knew of Dustin’s condition. They would all know eventually, anyway, and he saw no harm in revealing their joyous news. “Because she is with child and I do not want her to exhaust herself.”
That bit of information sent the women into cries of congratulation and happy kisses, but it did not deter their determination that Dustin should dance. They tugged her free of the table only to run head-long into Christopher’s huge body as he blocked their way.
“Surely, sire, your wife must dance this dance,” Nathalie Hampton said. “’Tis an ancient fertility dance.”
The women giggled and Christopher crossed his arms sternly, yet there was a faint smirk on his face. “I know what the dance is, my lady, I have seen it many a time. I simply do not want my wife to tire.”
“This dance will not tire her, my lord,” Anne Sedgewick said. “’Tis slow and beautiful. Surely you do not intend to forbid Dustin from any sort of activity until the child is born. She will not break.”
He raised a disapproving eyebrow and looked at Dustin’s smiling face. He could see that she wanted to go with them. “Very well, then. But no jumping or cavorting about.”
“Cavorting about?” Dustin repeated. “Why do you always say that as if I jump from table to table? I have never cavorted about.”
He grunted at her and moved out of the way, allowing the women to pass. His knights stood about, watching the ladies and grinning. Especially David. He smiled broadly at Emilie as she brushed past him.
“Can’t I dance, too?” he asked her.
She turned her pert nose up in the air. “Nay, sire, ’tis a woman’s dance.”
“But I want to dance with a woman,” he persisted.
She shot him a blatantly flirtatious look. “Then you should have asked sooner.”
The knights laughed at David’s expense as the women took to the huge parquet floor.
*
The truth was that David was grinning, too, even though the joke had been on him. He didn’t mind in the least. He had rather liked watching Emilie move out to the dance floor holding Dustin’s hand, laughing and chatting with his sister-in-law as if she’d known the woman her entire life. But, much like his brother, he was keeping a very close eye on the women with John and Ralph about, especially considering the confrontation between Emilie and Ralph during the tournament those months ago.
Therefore, David stood right on the edge of the dance floor, watching Ralph as Ralph watched the dancing. One wrong move from the sheriff and David would be forced to act.
But Ralph didn’t make a move, wisely remaining with John and seemingly detached from the dancing women. But David, as well as every other man in the room, knew that wasn’t the case. Ralph and John were always watching women, as everyone well knew, and fathers and husbands were determined to protect the women they loved. David was, too. He thought he was being quite vigilant. But one thing he hadn’t counted on was Dennis de la Londe.
Dennis was now a permanent fixture in John’s entourage. David had seen the man several times since the October tournament and each time, Dennis smiled and waved at him as if he was a long lost friend. David ignored him, as did Christopher, but all the while, they watched him, because they knew that men like Dennis would not remain idle for long. He was a guard dog waiting to carry out orders for his deviant liege.
Even though John and Ralph had kept a low profile for the past two months, nearly everyone was under the impression that it was simply a ruse. Something was going on with them, as it usually was, but being the clever men that they were, they were simply biding their time. Neither Christopher nor David nor the men who ruled England, including William Marshal and William Longchamp, Richard’s Chancellor, believed that John had the intention of behaving himself. They knew, at some point, he would move again.
It was simply a matter of when.
Therefore, David and Christopher were so intently focused on John and Ralph that they failed to keep an eye on Dennis, who had been on the periphery of the room nearly since his arrival. Dennis wasn’t unhandsome; he was fair-haired and not unattractive, so he never had any difficulty finding a partner to dance with. But this was a woman’s dance so as the floor filled with lovely women, he made his way over to the west side of the hall, opposite the de Lohr contingent, and watched the lovely blond-haired woman that had David de Lohr so captivated.
He had heard about Ralph’s attempt to abduct the woman those months ago at the tournament and he had also heard how the man had failed. John had not been pleased. Since it was virtually impossible to get anywhere near Lady de Lohr, Christopher’s wife, the focus, that evening, had turned back to the lovely young woman that David had his eye on. Not to hurt her or abduct her, because that would simply make a volatile situation even worse, but Dennis thought that if he could get to the girl, talk to her, and perhaps convince her that the de Lohrs were not as noble and righteous as they pretended to be, that he could plant a seed of doubt in her mind that would disrupt David. A disrupted David would be a weakened David, and that was the kind of prey Dennis liked. He’d failed to kill the man in the tournament arena.
Perhaps he could get to him another way.
So he lurked on the edge of the dance floor, watching as the women danced the ancient fertility dance. There were quite a few women on the dance floor, enough so that it was difficult to single out one for any length of time, so he positioned himself near the edge of the floor, wedging himself into the de Breaute party as he watched the dancing before him. Women were laughing, swinging each other about in some cases, and going arm through arm at the edge of the room. He spied David’s young lady early on and his eyes never left her. When she came by him, swinging arm through arm with other women, he was able to reach out and snatch her.
Emilie’s yelps of fear were drowned out by the music and the crowds, and Dennis was able to sweep her from the floor before anyone took notice. Quickly, he took her to the darkened edges of the hall, holding her fast by the wrist. They were back behind the crowds here, in the darkness, and largely unnoticed. Terrified, and furious, Emilie twisted against him.
“Let me go,” she demanded, pounding on his hand. “How dare you lay your hand on me! By what right do you do such a thing?”
Dennis held her tightly, hardly feeling her fist against his hand. “All apologies, demoiselle,” he said with his heavy French accent. “I thought to have a word with you and I am not a fine or mannerly man. Moreover, if I approached the de Lohr table, they would simply kill me.”
Emilie recognized the voice; God help her, she did. She was sharp of mind, and remembered things clearly, and she had heard this voice at the tournament field those months ago.
As if in a living nightmare, it began to occur to her that this was the man called Dennis the Destroyer. She remember
ed, very distinctly, seeing David fight the man, only she hadn’t recognized him tonight because of his fine clothes. Now, she recognized him completely and this murderer of men had a hold of her. Frantically, she continued banging on his hand, trying to force him to release her.
“They will kill you now for touching me,” she said. “Let me go!”
“Please,” Dennis said softly, begging. “Please allow me a moment of your time, demoiselle. I must warn you of David and his brother. They are killers of innocents. Now they are trying to bring you into their web of lies.”
Emilie scowled at him. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, trying to yank her hand free to no avail. “I will not speak to you about them. Let me go!”
She was struggling to free herself but Dennis yanked on her, hard enough to cause her head to snap back. Startled, Emilie found herself gazing into pale green eyes. His breath, smelling like putrid alcohol, blew up her nostrils as he spoke.
“Ask your David what he did in the Holy Land with Richard,” he hissed at her. “Ask him how he killed innocent women and children who were captives of him and his brother. Ask him how he slayed hundreds of them, hating them because they were against his precious king. He lied to Saladin and his men, and he killed innocents. Ask him about Ayyadieh!”
Confused, and terrified, Emilie began to kick and shove, trying to break his hold on her. “I will not ask him,” she said. “I do not know what you are speaking of!”
Dennis let her pull partially away from him, mostly because he was trying to get a point across and not hurt her in the process. She was fighting him fiercely.
“Of course you would not,” he said. “I was there, demoiselle. I saw Richard order knights such as Christopher and David to murder unarmed men as well as their wives and children. This is only an example of the horrors the de Lohrs have accomplished. And you believe him to be a virtuous and noble knight? Do not think such things, lady. He is an evil man”
Emilie had one arm free and was trying to pull the other one free. “What is it to you?” she shot back. “I am not your concern and neither is David. Leave me alone!”
The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 130