Charlotte was clenching her fists, usual before she threw a punch. “Even your sister?”
“Especially my sister,” he snapped. “I told you this yesterday.”
Charlotte’s jaw ticked and she even flinched in Dennis’ direction, but he didn’t take the bait. The tension in the room was thick and painful, as Clive and Riston began to push the others back away from the table. Something was about to happen; they could all feel it. Charlotte finally leaned in her brother’s direction.
“Father was right,” she hissed. “You are a disgrace to the d’Vant name.”
Dennis exploded; his big hands reached out but not for Charlotte. He grabbed the closest thing to him, which happened to be the feasting table and, with a roar, turned the extremely heavy table on its side.
Everyone jumped back, including Charlotte, as Dennis kicked and tore at the table legs. His anger was unleashed and to watch the perpetually calm man implode was a sight to behold. Riston and Clive, standing back behind Charlotte, watched in fear and fascination as Dennis managed to dislodge two of the massively constructed table legs before flipping the table up on its end and hurling it towards the massive fire pit in the center of the room.
With a deafening bang, the table bounced against the floor, the wall, and pieces of wood chipped off and sprayed off into the room but at that point, Dennis’ rage had abruptly ceased. He was beyond words and rational thought. He had made his point. In silence, he made his way past the upended and damaged table and continued on into the darkened shadows of the keep. Everyone in the hall kept well out of his way.
It took ten men to upright the table.
*
Ryan awoke to sounds of banging. Curled up on her left side, she peeped an eye open and, for a moment, didn’t recognize her surroundings. Everything was so dim and dark and ugly. Dust and green growth were on the walls. She lifted her head, struggling to gain her bearings before realizing she was at St. Austell.
Memories from the previous day flooded her. There were so many emotions involved; apprehension, disillusionment, fear, and then… there was Dennis. She was still having difficulty believing the course the evening had taken. Everything she’d ever been taught about the d’Vants was now in danger of dissolving and, at the moment, confusion reigned. She had only known them to be bloodthirsty barbarians, but Dennis’ act of extreme chivalry last night had ripped a large hole in that belief. She was still baffled by it.
Sitting up in bed, she looked around the decrepit chamber. It was a horror. She began to wonder where her goat was, because he surely was frightened in this strange place, and surely quite belligerent. She furthermore wondered where Lyla was. Concern forced her to rise from the bed, which, as she turned around and looked at it in the daylight, was in something of horrific condition. She wasn’t surprised. She felt dirty, cold, and afraid.
Her baggage was shoved up against one wall of the chamber, in oddly neat stacks amidst the disarray. She also noticed a bucket of water near the door and peering into it, she was surprised to note that the water was clean. A little stale, but clean. Moving to her satchels and trunks, she began hunting around for the one that contained her soap and combs and other grooming products. She thought that the first order of the day would be to clean up and dress appropriately. After that, she would find Lyla and Bute, in that order.
The grooming products were tucked into a small bag that was propped on top of the stack. She pulled forth a carefully wrapped bar of soap that smelled of rare and precious lemons that her father had purchased for her on a trip to London. There was also a frayed reed and tooth cleanser made from soda and rosewater. Using a linen scarf as a towel, for she had nothing else at the moment, she proceeded to strip down and wash in the stale water.
The pungent scent of lemons filled the room as she washed her face and body as best she could. Her hair was vigorously combed and braided and once she was finished washing, she set the scarf out to dry and carefully packed away the precious lemon soap. Dressing in soft linen undergarments and a soft cotton shift of an off-white color, she donned a mustard-yellow surcoat made of heavy linen and a fitted leather girdle that, when laced tightly, gave her a slender torso and full bust line. It was a stunning presentation.
In fact, when Dennis entered the room just as she was running her fingers over the wet scarf to see how dry it was becoming in the open air, his surprise and delight at her appearance was evident. He just stood in the doorway and stared at her.
Somewhat startled at his appearance, Ryan faced him with some uncertainty. It was the first time since they’d been introduced that she didn’t feel some measure of hostility at his appearance. In fact, she realized she was rather glad to see him, but she was certain he didn’t feel the same way. After a moment, she forced a timid smile.
“Good morn to you, my lord,” she said.
Dennis stared at her a moment longer before returning her smile, only his was real. “Lady d’Vant,” he said huskily as he came into the room. “You are looking quite lovely this morning.”
It was the first real compliment she had ever received from the man, at least one that she wanted to hear, and her smile broadened.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said.
Because her smile was growing, his grew as well. He didn’t even realize he was grinning like a fool, feeling giddy warmth that he had never experienced in his life. As he looked at her, he was aware that his confession to her last night had done something to him; it made him feel bonded to her as he had never felt to anyone in his life. He had always been an outsider, even in his own home, but with Ryan, he was starting to feel a closeness to her. She had heard his confession and she hadn’t laughed. Perhaps she even understood. He was about to say something more to her when he realized the air was full of an odd scent. He sniffed the air.
“What is that smell?” he asked.
“Soap,” she told him. “My father purchased it for me in London. It is made with lemons.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Ah, yes,” he said in recognition. “I have tasted them before, but it was a long time ago. I seem to remember my father purchasing pickled lemons down in the port, and we had them for supper one evening.”
Ryan was interested. “What did they taste like?”
He looked at her a moment. Then he screwed up his face so tightly that Ryan started laughing. When he spoke, it was with the same twisted-up expression. “I never thought my face would return to normal,” he said, finally relaxing his features as she continued to giggle. “Tart would not be an accurate description of the flavor. They were much more than tart.”
Ryan conceded the point. “Be that as it may, someday I would like to try them for myself.”
His gaze lingered warmly on her. “And you shall,” he said, pushing aside the horrors of the morning and wanting to take her someplace where people weren’t wishing her dead. “In fact, I was thinking on going to the port today. Our sentries spied two new merchant vessels at anchor, so I thought to see what goods they brought. Would you like to accompany me?”
She nodded eagerly. “Indeed I would, my lord,” she said. “Can Lyla come with us?”
He bobbed his head. “She can.”
Ryan flashed him a happy smile as she turned back for the stacks of baggage against the wall. “Allow me to collect my cloak,” she said, peering at the trunks as she began to remove the satchels on top of them. “I shall not be long.”
He saw what she was doing and moved to help her unload the bags so she could get to the trunks beneath.
“That is something else we can do while we are down by the port,” he said, pulling out a particularly heavy trunk so she could open it. “We must find a wardrobe for your possessions.”
She unlatched the lid and began rummaging through the trunk. “You do not need to buy me one,” she said. “Surely there is one around here that is serviceable.”
He thought on St. Austell and the clutter of old stones and rubble that was his home. “Probably not,” he said
quietly. “Anything that was remotely serviceable was sold long ago.”
She looked up at him innocently. “Why?”
He lifted his eyebrows at her. “Because my father and grandfather required money to fund their war against Launceston,” he said. “There is nothing of value here any longer.”
She grew seriously. “But you have the ports,” she said. “The earl has pointed out time and time again how St. Austell collects tariffs from the ships that put to anchor here. Surely that brings you a good deal of revenue.”
Dennis shrugged. “Not as much as you would think,” he said. “We also collect tolls from the road running north from Penzance, but that does not bring us a huge amount of wealth. Not surprisingly, it costs a good deal of money to support a fortress of this size, and with the repairs after our bout with Launceston a few weeks ago… we spend everything we collect and then some.”
She pulled forth a soft brown cloak with rabbit lining, turning thoughtfully to him. “But now you have my dowry,” she said. “Will you use that to rebuild the fortress?”
He wouldn’t look at her. “Perhaps,” he said quietly.
Ryan thought on that a moment. The castle was a degraded mess but he didn’t seem to want to elaborate on what he planned to do with her dowry. When she lifted the cloak to swing it on to her shoulders, Dennis politely took it from her and helped her with it.
“You had mentioned to me that I will be chatelaine of St. Austell,” Ryan said, shifting the subject. “Is this still true?”
He finished tying off the fastens around her neck. “It is.”
“Do I have permission to do as I please with the keep and kitchens?”
He nodded. “You have my permission to do whatever you wish.”
She fixed him with her intense amber eyes. “Then it is my wish to clean up this keep,” she said, rather frankly. “I mean no offence, my lord, but there is green growth on the walls, the floors are a filthy mess, and the entire places looks like animals live here.”
He fought off a grin. “Then you have a task ahead of you.”
“I realize that,” she said, exhibiting the same humor he was. “But I am prepared for the challenge. Other than the hall and this chamber, I have seen nothing of this keep of which I am to reign over. Will you show me all of it before we go to the port?”
His thoughts immediately went to goat’s head in the kitchen yard but his expression remained even.
“As you wish,” he told her. “However, before we go, there is something you should know. The sheet from our marital bed that I tossed to the mob last eve is now displayed in the great hall. You will see it when you pass through. I do not want you to be surprised or humiliated by the sight.”
Ryan grew serious as she gazed up at him. “It is not my blood,” she said frankly. “I am not ashamed in anyway. In fact…”
She paused and Dennis cocked his head at her. “Go on,” he prompted gently. “What would you say?”
Ryan shrugged, seemingly reluctant. When she looked at him, it was with hesitation. “I would say that what you did last night was the most chivalrous gesture I have ever heard of,” she said softly. “In fact, since the moment we met, you have gone out of your way to be chivalrous towards me. At first, I thought it was because you viewed me as a possession, but now I am not so sure. I have heard my entire life how barbaric and terrible the House of d’Vant is, but you do not seem to fit what I have always been told. I realize that our association has been turbulent and I am sure that… well, if I have been difficult, then I apologize.”
She had a great deal of difficulty spitting out the statement and Dennis couldn’t help but smile. Her pride was difficult to overcome but she had accomplished it nonetheless. His eyes twinkled at her.
“You have not been difficult in the least,” he said softly. “Your life is in upheaval. You have reacted accordingly. I will try to make the transition as easy as possible for you.”
She could feel such warmth from him, so much so that she instantly believed him. The walls she had built around herself, kept up against the d’Vant threat, were crumbling.
“I am coming to see that,” she said. “But the others… they do not want to make it easy for me.”
Dennis’ smile faded as he thought of his sister, of the events of the morning. He could only nod.
“For your own safety, when you are not locked in this chamber you will only travel with me, Sir Clive, or with Sir Riston,” he told her. “Until my men become accustomed to you, it is the only way to assure your safety.”
She nodded seriously. “But what of Lyla?”
“Riston is charged with her protection,” he said. “He will not let her come to harm.”
“She should be with me. It will be easier to protect us if we are together.”
“I agree. Therefore, the only time she will not be with you is at night when we retire. In that case, she will reside in her own chamber guarded by Riston.”
“And Bute?” she wanted to know. “Where is he? I am sure he is not very happy right now, having been separated from me for so long.”
Oh, God, he thought. He didn’t want to tell her the truth, not now when they were sharing perhaps their first civil and honest conversation. It would ruin everything. Until he could figure out how to tell her, he would try to skirt the subject and pray she would eventually forgive him. Gazing into that lovely face, he realized he was a coward. He just couldn’t tell her the truth at the moment. He didn’t want her to think badly of him.
“Your goat is not a happy creature in any case,” he lifted an eyebrow and watched her grin. “I gave him to Riston yesterday to tend and I am sure he has done his duty.”
“Will you find him and ask him to bring my goat to me?”
“I will not take the goat into town.”
She half-shrugged, half-nodded. “Afterwards, then?”
“I will find Riston and speak with him.”
“Will you at least make sure that Bute is fed and tended? I want him to be comfortable.”
“As I said, I will speak to Riston.”
Satisfied, Ryan turned back to the trunk and began hunting around for something else, as Dennis breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t demanding her goat at that moment. In fact, as she rummaged around in her trunk, he took the opportunity to tend to a small task.
“Lock this door behind me,” he told her. “I shall return shortly.”
He was gone so fast that Ryan didn’t have a chance to ask him where he was going. As he slipped down the darkened corridor, he heard her throw the bolt on the door. Taking the spiral stairs that led down into the hall, he headed out to the kitchen to find the old cook and explain to him what was about to occur. He didn’t want the old man casually informing Ryan of what had become of her goat as she toured the kitchens.
The old cook was rather startled at Dennis’ information but heartily agreed to keep silent about the goat. He even went so far as to hide the head, which had thus far been sitting out in plain sight. Dennis then went on to locate Riston, who proved more difficult to find. He eventually found the man in the knight’s quarters, a sturdy squat structure located near the outer wall that housed St. Austell’s knighted warriors. Riston was in the small common room, strapping on pieces of plate armor, when Dennis came across him.
“Where is Lady Lyla?” Dennis asked as he entered the dim, smelly room.
Riston finished with the fastens. “I have her locked in my chamber,” he said, pointing to one of the two closed doors on the south side of the room. “Why?”
Dennis glanced at the old oak door. “I am taking my wife to the port and she wishes for her cousin to accompany her,” he said. “Furthermore, she wishes a tour of St. Austell and we must make sure she does not discover the fate of her goat. I have already spoken to the cook about the matter and he will remain silent.”
Riston nodded seriously. “She will not hear it from me,” he muttered. “Has she asked for him?”
“She has.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I entrusted the goat to you and that I was sure you had accomplished the task. Then I changed the subject.”
Riston rolled his eyes. “She is going to hate me forever when she finds out I allowed her goat to become tonight’s supper.”
Dennis waved him off as he headed for Riston’s door. “Just stay out of sight for a while,” he told him. “If she sees you, she will want to ask you where the goat is, so just stay away from her until I can tell her what has happened.”
As Riston nodded in resignation, Dennis knocked on the chamber door. “Lady Lyla?” he called. “It is Dennis. Please open the door.”
The door flew open immediately and Lyla was standing there, eyes wide. “What happened to Bute?” she demanded.
Dennis could feel his heart sink a little. But rather than let Lyla see his reaction, he took the stern approach and cocked an eyebrow. “Were you listening to our conversation?”
Lyla’s mouth flew open to argue but she quickly shut it, knowing she had been eavesdropping and had all but confessed her act. Caught, she struggled to recover.
“It was difficult not to hear you,” she insisted. “The door… it is thin…”
“The door is three inches thick,” Dennis pointed out. “You would have had to put your ear to the seam to hear what we were speaking of.”
Lyla turned red and lowered her gaze. Dennis took her by the elbow and pulled her from the chamber.
“I will not tell you anything about the goat before I have had a chance to tell Lady Ryan,” he said, “but let me be clear; if you breathe one word of this to her before I have had the opportunity to speak to her, I will send you back to Launceston before you can take another breath, and I shall never allow you back at St. Austell again. Do you comprehend me?”
By this time, Lyla was looking at him fearfully. “I do,” she said.
Dennis gave her his best stern glare before throwing open the door to the bailey beyond, introducing blinding white light to the dimness of the knight’s quarters. A new day beckoned, one that now saw two warring families in a tense peace. It was a new way of life for them all.
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II Page 132
