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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Dustin rushed to him, throwing her arms around him and pressing herself against his back. She felt a warm hand gently grasp her arms and beneath her embrace, he began to shake with sobs.

  “Oh, Chris,” she murmured soothingly. “My love, my sweet husband, I am so very sorry. Please do not cry.”

  His sobs were unbridled, like a child’s, and Dustin’s face was soon wet with her own tears. She felt so guilty, so helpless, and so pained with his grief. She blamed herself for David’s departure one moment, yet knew she had done nothing the next. She continued to hold her husband tightly and croon to him soothingly, hoping she would be able to comfort him somehow. His deep tears cut her to the bone.

  He continued to stand by the window and weep and she allowed him time to grieve before pulling him away from the sill and sitting him in a chair. She then sat on his lap and cradled his great head against her breast, caressing him tenderly until his crying ceased. Even after he stopped, they continued to sit together for an endless eternity, lost in their own thoughts and both devastated from the loss of a brother.

  *

  Canterbury

  Late January

  From the snows on the Welsh marches to the milder temperatures of Kent, David found that it was much more pleasant to travel the further south he went. But his fat horse, even with its heavy winter coat, still wore a blanket against the cold as David traveled closer to Canterbury. In fact, when he’d stopped for the night to rest during his travels, he’d slept in the stable with the beast to ensure the animal was warm enough. Also, the horse seemed to be his only friend these days. It was the only real contact he had with something living.

  So much had been weighing heavily on his mind during his trip to Canterbury, mostly thoughts of his brother and his brother’s wife. He hadn’t been wrong about Dustin; he knew he hadn’t been wrong. The child looked just like Burton and he knew without a doubt the baby was not his brother’s. He was still devastated that Christopher didn’t see it, that he sided with his wife when the evidence was clearly in front of him. Christopher was being made a fool of and he didn’t seem to care.

  David was so sure that he was right that he’d been willing to fight his brother to the death about it. Perhaps Christopher’s death would have been better than the shame the man was living with a wife who was being bedded by the man’s best friend. But the fight between Christopher and David had not come, and David had ridden from the gates of Lioncross resolute and furious in his position.

  He had been right. But as the days and weeks passed, that anger turned into something else, something deep and mournful and regretful. Eventually, he had shed tears. Now, he was without his brother and he missed him. He had no idea what to do now that he’d been disowned. Should he go to William Marshal swear fealty? He knew that The Marshal would accept him without question. In fact, David knew that any house in England would take his fealty without question. But he wasn’t particularly thinking about that now. He only had one thing on his mind other than his brother at this point, and that was Emilie.

  He’d left her in sorrow to return to his brother. Now, he’d left Lioncross in sorrow as well. He tried not to be hard on himself for leaving devastation in his wake wherever he went. It wasn’t his fault, after all… was it?

  The truth was that he didn’t know.

  The closer he drew to Canterbury, the more thoughts of his brother faded and thoughts of Emilie began to take precedence. The land surrounding Canterbury was without snow but very cold and dead on this blustery day as heavy winds gusted in from the north. David could see Denstroude Castle off to the east and he knew that he would soon be seeing the village of Canterbury. Truth be told, his stomach was in knots. He was returning to Emilie because he told her he would, because he had nowhere else to go. But it was anyone’s guess how she would receive him. After they had parted so terribly, perhaps she would simply turn him away, too. Turn away the man who loved her but couldn’t tell her.

  Jesus, he’d been an idiot.

  He loved her. He’d always loved her. It was a feeling that had only grown stronger, even when he’d been away from her during his time at Lioncross Abbey. She was on his mind constantly and even now as he crested the rise and saw Canterbury with its soaring cathedral in the distance, he was planning what he was going to say to her. He hoped it was enough. He sincerely hoped she didn’t toss him out on his ear.

  But there was more to it than an apology. Having been banished from Lioncross, he was a wandering man that didn’t belong anywhere. He had no home, no heart. But he did here at Canterbury – his heart was with Emilie. He hoped he still had hers. After the manner in which they had previously parted, he wouldn’t blame her for feeling otherwise but he prayed that was not the case. He wanted to come back to her, to come home to her, and to tell her of his feelings for her. He could no longer be fearful of appearing weak by declaring his love for a woman. He had to be brave enough to tell her and suffer the consequences if that love was no longer returned.

  So he passed through the town of Canterbury, which was surprisingly busy in this cold weather. Villiens were bundled up in their woolen rags against the cold and he was somewhat the object of curiosity, a lone knight on an expensive horse, heading for Canterbury Castle. As he approached the castle on the muddy road that led to the iron-fanged gatehouse, he removed the scarf from covering his mouth and called up to the sentries.

  Bundled-up soldiers looked down at him from the wall walk but this time, his name was quickly recognized and the portcullis began to grind open, lifting slowly, before he even fully announced himself. When the portcullis was half-way up, he proceeded into the mud-filled ward beyond, only to be met by a very familiar face.

  Brickley was blocking his path.

  It was an unwelcome sight. David sighed faintly, bracing himself for yet another round with the man. He thought to try to ease the situation a bit by being pleasant, for truly, he was weary of fighting and arguing. He’d done enough of that with his brother as of late and he simply didn’t have the strength in him to battle any longer. He had come to see Emilie and he hoped that Brickley wasn’t going to provide a big barrier against that. But he assumed the worst before he even spoke. When it came to Brickley, he could do nothing less than be on his guard with the man, always.

  “I see you made it home from the battles of the spring and summer,” he said to Brickley, trying to be pleasant but professional. “Where did you see your last action?”

  Brickley, his face pinched red from the cold, gazed steadily at him. “A skirmish in Nuneaton about five months ago,” he said. “You?”

  “A very small encounter near King’s Lynn six months ago.”

  Brickley simply nodded, eyeing David for a moment. “I am assuming you have come to see Lady Emilie.”

  “I have.”

  Brickley lifted a gloved hand and motioned him off the horse. “I have sent word to her.”

  David was rather astonished at the so far non-threatening conversation. Silently, he dismounted the horse, passing him off to the same two stable boys who had taken the horse from him once before. They were a little bigger now, swathed in layers against the cold. As the boys led the horse away, this time avoiding the foaming lips, David pulled his saddle bags off of the animal before it could get away completely.

  Slinging the heavy leather bags over one shoulder, he noticed that Brickley was watching him. He was still edgy with the man even though the conversation thus far had been calm. But it was a calm that could easily break; he supposed he’d better take charge and speak plainly so they could both get on with it.

  “Well,” he said, fixing Brickley in the eye. “Let us get this out in the open, de Dere. Lord Lyle betrothed me to Emilie this past summer. I intend to wed her so if you have anything to say about it, let us get it out in the open and out of the way. I do not intend to be doing battle with you at every turn for something you cannot change, so let us deal with the situation like men.”

  Brickley didn’t really r
eact other than a slight shift in his expression, one that suggested resignation. It was a quick flash, instantly gone. “I know you are betrothed to Emilie,” he said. “Lord Lyle told me upon my return in September. Where have you been for the past four months? I would have thought you would have come back to see Emilie before now.”

  David thought back to Lioncross, to the turmoil there, turmoil that went beyond his conflict with Dustin. The past four months for him had been quite complicated and he didn’t want to discuss it, and certainly not with Brickley.

  “Within my brother’s house, there is always something critical happening,” he said vaguely. “I came as soon as I could. Has Emilie been well?”

  Brickley nodded. “She is well,” he said. “There has been a sickness going through town and many of the town’s folk are here in the great hall so that the physic can tend to them all in the same place. Emilie has been helping him.”

  David eyed the man and his emotionless explanation. Brickley didn’t seem anything like the confrontational knight David had known him to be when it came to Emilie. His manner was almost… calm. This, in fact, was the Brickley that David had known for years, an amiable man of good nature. David wanted to be relieved but he just couldn’t quite manage it. He was still braced for any manner of confrontation. He wasn’t willing to believe that Brickley had given up the pursuit of Emilie so quickly. Still, he found focus with the subject at hand. Emilie was more important at the moment than Brickley’s behavior.

  “What sickness do you speak of?” David asked, his brow furrowing. “I have not heard of a plague in this area.”

  Brickley shrugged and motioned for David to follow him. They headed in the direction of the big hall, tucked into the corner of the bailey near the gatehouse.

  “Not a plague,” Brickley said. “An infection of the chest. Nathalie and Elise had it, too. Elise has been extremely sick. She is still quite weak but both girls are able to get out of bed and move around now. Emilie has been very busy tending her sisters a well as helping the physic with the villiens.”

  David nodded, concerned that Emilie should be around the sick, but in the same breath, he knew that was the role of the lady of the castle, which she was. It would also be her role as his wife. He didn’t like the idea but understood her duty. He was heading for the great hall with Brickley beside him when Emilie suddenly emerged from the structure.

  Brickley made himself scarce almost immediately. David thought for sure the man would remain at his side, trying to muck up any manner of personal conversation with Emilie, but the moment she came forth Brickley turned and headed for the gatehouse and left David alone, facing a woman he’d not seen in four months. David was genuinely grateful.

  Emilie’s expression as she faced David was one of great surprise. Clad in a heavy woolen gown of a deep shade of brown, her hair was rolled at the back of her head and pinned up. Somehow, she looked different from when David had last seen her. She was still as lovely, more so, but there was a maturity to her expression that David had never witnessed before. As if she had grown while he’d been gone, maturing somehow.

  It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  Emilie came out of the great hall, wiping her hands with a rag, and looking at him quite earnestly.

  “David?” she said with awe in her tone. “You… you have come back.”

  She said it with such astonishment and suddenly, David felt a lump in his throat. The sight of her, of this lovely and intelligent woman that he had hurt so deeply, brought tears to his eyes. After his battle with his brother, the estrangement, and now seeing Emilie after knowing how badly he’d hurt her, was too much for him. His emotions were raw and overflowing.

  “I love you,” he whispered as tears streamed down his face. “I am so sorry for what I’ve done, Emilie. I hurt you… I behaved terribly. Please know that I love you and will never again behave so atrociously. I pray you can forgive me, even just a little.”

  His feelings for her were the first words out of his mouth, unintentional as they were. He’d been thinking them, of course, but the moment he saw her, they were the first words that came to mind. He didn’t hold back. The tears continued to fall and Emilie rushed to him, throwing her arms around him.

  “Please don’t cry,” she hushed him soothingly. “There is nothing to forgive, David. I swear to you that there is nothing to forgive at all.”

  He held her tightly with one hand as the other held his saddlebags, his face buried in her neck, and suddenly he erupted into gut-busting sobs. The sobs were meant for his brother, for their estrangement, something he’d been holding back since it happened, but they were also for Emilie. They were for everything that had happened over the last four months and he simply couldn’t control himself. David wasn’t the crying kind but his exhaustion and emotions had the better of him. The sight of Emilie had been his undoing, and she held him tightly as he cried.

  “Everything is well, my darling,” she breathed. “I have never stopped loving you and I have waited for you to return. I have hoped for it. Surely you know that.”

  He could only nod his head. He held on to her with a death grip but Emilie noticed that some of the soldiers were watching, so she turned him for the keep. She didn’t want men who feared and admired David to see him in his weakness.

  “Come with me,” she said softly. “You are simply exhausted. Come inside with me. I shall take care of you.”

  He let her shuttle him inside, clinging to her, feeling so incredibly weak and foolish. All of the terrible things he’d ever said to his brother, about a woman making him weak, were coming back to haunt him. It was if now he finally understood what it meant to have the love of a woman, and her comfort. Everything was spilling out of him, and into him, filling his heart more than he could imagine. It was as Emilie was his rock at the moment and he held to her tightly, as if she alone would save him.

  Save him from himself.

  Emilie whisked him into the keep, warmer against the chill temperatures outside, and took him through her father’s solar into the small chamber where they’d made love those months ago. Taking charge, Emilie pulled his saddlebags off of his shoulder and set them down against the wall before taking him by the arms and pushing him down onto the bed, which had been repaired after Nathalie and Elise’s prank.

  David sat and wiped his eyes, struggling to gain control of himself, as Emilie ran into her father’s solar and took his pitcher of wine and a cup off of his table. She scooted back into the small chamber, poured a cup for David, and put it in his hand.

  Emilie stood over him, watching every move he made, as he drained the cup in three big gulps. Then she poured him more and watched him take another long gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “You are exhausted,” she said gently, setting the pitcher aside and pulling his helm off his head. “Look at you, David; you are weary to the bone. How long have you been traveling?”

  Tears under control, he felt drained and embarrassed for his outburst. He set the cup aside so he could remove his gloves.

  “It seems like forever,” he said. As he pulled on the fingers of a glove, she pushed his hands away and remove the gloves for him. “I have come from Lioncross.”

  Emilie set the gloves aside. “Stand up so that I can remove your cloak.”

  He obeyed. She pulled the heavy cloak free, hanging it on the peg next to the door. “Lioncross is weeks away,” she said with concern. “Why have you been traveling for weeks in this weather?”

  He looked at her, hanging up his wet cloak. “Because I had to come to you.”

  She paused, turning to look at him, a faint smile on her face. “You did not have to risk your life in this terrible weather to do it,” she said. “But I am glad that you did.”

  His gaze drank her in, soaking in the lovely sight of her. “As am I,” he said. “Now that I see you, I feel… I suppose I feel whole again. Something is missing when I am not with you, Emilie. Something has been missin
g for months.”

  Her smile grew and she turned for the hearth, which was cold and dark. When David saw what she was doing, trying to start a fire, he gently pushed her aside and began building the fire himself. Emilie was on her knees next to him, watching his pale face and slow movements. She was over the shock of his unexpected appearance but she sensed there was something more to his arrival because the man was not himself in the least. It was in his movement, his expression, and everything about him. Something was wrong. It concerned her.

  “Then I am glad you came back to me,” she said, going down onto her knees beside him. “I have missed you a great deal.”

  He turned to look at her. “You should not have,” he said. “Not after the way I left things between us. You should be berating me at the very least.”

  She shook her head. “And yet I am not.”

  “Why?”

  She lifted her shoulders. “Because there is no need,” she said. “I forgot my anger against you long ago, I suppose. Time has a way of doing that. I should not have become angry because you did not speak the words I wanted to hear. In your own way you were trying to tell me of your love but I would not listen.”

  It was a magnanimous reaction, making David feel even more guilty about it than he already did about how he had behaved. This kind and gentle creature was far too forgiving. It was too good to believe.

  “I do not know what to say,” he said. “Your forgiveness… it is more than I had hoped for.”

  Emilie stroked his damp blonde hair. “Yet you have it,” she said. “It is true that I was hurt. But I am quick to hurt and anger sometimes. I should have been more understanding.”

  He turned to look at her, kissing her hand when she put it on his cheek. “’Tis simply that it is very difficult for me to speak of my feelings,” he said. “I have never had anyone to speak them to. When my brother married his wife, I accused him of being weakened by his emotions for her so I suppose there is some embarrassment for me to admit that I now understand how he feels. I feel for you what he feels for his wife, and it is difficult for me to admit that. I always thought emotions like love make a man weak.”