The de Lohr Dynasty

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  From what David had seen with Christopher, marriage was an agreeable thing, indeed. At least, most of the time. It wasn’t hard for David to admit that his brother’s marriage had put marriage in general in a rather pleasant light. It had him thinking about it. Mayhap his infatuation with his brother’s wife hadn’t been infatuation so much in her as it had been in wanting to see himself in the same situation. Wanting to have a wife of his own.

  Wanting someone like Emilie Hampton for his own.

  … wanting Emilie.

  Scratching his neck, David reined his horse around and headed for the de Lohr tents that had been set up just east of the field. One of his brother’s knights, Leeton de Shera, had managed to set up an excellent encampment in an area that had a good view of the arena. As David headed back to the tents, knights were passing him, heading towards the arena with the word that the field marshals were preparing to draw lots.

  With that information, David made haste back to the de Lohr tents to make sure that all of the de Lohr knights preparing to compete were aware – Edward de Wolfe, Leeton, a knight by the name of Sir Thomas Dudley were all preparing their horses. Squires were scurrying about, including Christopher’s squire, Darren, helping the knights finish up their preparations, but David’s information about the field marshals drawing lots prompted the knights to push the squires aside and quickly mount their horses, heading out to the field to see who they had drawn in the first round.

  Now, the games were truly about to begin and each man was anxious to know his competition and realize his chances for survival to the next round.

  It was time for the games to begin.

  With Emilie’s favor tucked next to his heart, David had never felt quite so invincible.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The joust was brutal from the onset.

  After the knights drew lots to see who they would be competing against, Emilie and her sisters and nurse watched the first bout with great anticipation. It was exciting and thrilling to watch thousands of pounds of man and horse flesh charging at one another, dirt flying in the air as spectators screamed. But that thrill turned to horror very quickly because in the very first round, a young knight nearly had his arm torn off when the limb took the full brunt of a joust pole. The knight was unseated, landing on the bad arm, and was quickly ushered off the field by men bearing a litter.

  After that, the reality of the games hit home very quickly. It was thrilling, of course, but it was also quite dangerous. Elise put all of her wooden people back in their box so they wouldn’t see such horror as Emilie and Nathalie watched with mounting apprehension.

  “There must be rules for this game,” Nathalie said, distressed. “Surely the knight who hurt that man will be punished for it.”

  Emilie didn’t know much more about the joust than her sister did and simply shrugged. “I do not know,” she said. “It seems to me that there are not many rules to dictate how a man is hurt or not. Anything can happen when men run at each other with poles.”

  Nathalie frowned. “I do not think I like this very much,” she said, looking off to the east end of the field where the next competitors were entering. “Look, Em! It is the knight you gave your favor to!”

  Emilie’s attention flew to the opposite side of the field where David and another knight were indeed entering. After giving David her favor, she hadn’t really told her curious sister much about him other than he had been the man who had saved her the night before, and Nathalie hadn’t asked much more than that because she was more focused on Brickley.

  Emilie was glad Nathalie hadn’t pestered her with a thousand questions; she rather wanted to keep David to herself for the moment, as if it was her delicious little secret. He was her little fantasy and she didn’t particularly want to let Nathalie in on it, for Nathalie might even find David favorable as well. She might even harbor a secret affection for him simply because Emilie did. If that was the case, then Emilie was sure she would have to kill her sister and bury the body. Well, perhaps not kill her, but it might ruin whatever sweet dreams she had about him. Nathalie and her over-active lust would spoil it.

  “That is him,” she agreed, her heart beating with excitement at the sight of him.

  Nathalie was looking at him, too. “I did not see his face,” she said. “Is he handsome?”

  Emilie could already hear the interest in her sister’s voice and she did her best to keep her irritation down. “Aye,” she said evenly. “But do not think of him for you might ruin any chance you have with Brick. He will not want a woman who is thinking of another man.”

  That was enough to straighten Nathalie out. Fearful that Brickley might be able to read her mind, she stopped asking question about David and even turned her attention to his opponent, a big knight bearing a red and black tunic with a big yellow cross emblazoned upon it.

  “Look at that knight, Em,” she said. “The tip of his pole is a spear.”

  Emilie could see the sharp blade at the end of the joust pole and the idea that something like that could penetrate David brought waves of anxiety. Her attention quickly moved to David to see what kind of joust-tipped pole he had and the end of his pole was shaped like a fist. A big, steel fist.

  Her heart began to beat in fear.

  “David does not have a spear on the end of his,” she said. “Surely this is not fair. Surely the other knight must use another pole that does not have a dagger on the end of it.”

  Over on Nathalie’s other side, Elise leaned forward to look at her eldest sister. “Em?” she asked. “Is it safe to let my families see the joust now? Can I bring them out?”

  Emilie wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t want to frighten her little sister but the truth was that she was feeling a great deal of uncertainty about the entire thing. Before she could answer, however, the field marshals dropped their flags and the competitors began to charge.

  A roar went up from the crowd, filling the air with a blood-thirsty excitement. The masses liked victory and exhilaration, but they also liked gore. Not from their favorite competitors, of which David clearly seemed to be one, but from unworthy opponents. They loved to see unworthy men trampled.

  Heart in her throat, Emilie watched David charge full-force against the knight with the spear-tipped pole as the crowd around her shrieked. The ground shook with the very power radiating from the horses and the men upon them, a ground-trembling force that was difficult to describe. The knights drew closer and closer, the crowd screamed, and the competitors lowered their poles, aiming them straight for each other. Emilie resisted the urge to cover her eyes as the men drew together at great speed.

  The moment was upon them.

  It could be victory or defeat in a swift, bloody moment.

  Crash!

  A resounding jolt filled the air of the arena and suddenly, the knight in the black and red tunic was flying off his steed. The man hit the earth heavily as the crowd leapt to their feet and cheered. David, completely unharmed, lifted his pole and held it vertically as he made a sweeping circle astride his big white rouncey and ended up making a pass in front of the lists for his adoring public.

  And no one was adoring him more than Emilie at the moment. Her hands were clasped against her chest, her eyes alight with relief and admiration as David passed before the stands. She wasn’t even cheering; she just stood there and watched him, overcome with a pride she’d never before experienced. But her admiration of David was marred by a woman in the royal box screaming David’s name at the top of her lungs.

  Emilie had noticed the woman once before; she had long, thick blond hair to her knees and she sat with a dark-haired man who had his right hand and arm heavily bandaged. Now, the woman was standing on her seat, screaming at David as he passed by the royal box. David lifted a hand to acknowledge the woman before the dark-haired man pulled her back into her seat. But the woman wouldn’t be deterred; she kept shouting David’s name and cheering for him, and he acknowledged her again and again, finally pointing at her seat
so she would sit and be still. It was a rather familiar gesture, as if he knew the woman well.

  Knew the woman well….

  After that, Emilie’s blind adoration of David became somewhat confused.

  Who was that woman? She wondered. Was it perhaps another adoring admirer, because the woman certainly seemed to admire David a great deal from the way she was yelling. She clearly knew him and David clearly knew her. Could it be perhaps another admirer? Certainly, David could have more than one, and Emilie was aware that she hardly knew the man. She didn’t know if he had other admirers or perhaps he even had a wife. She remembered that a man bearing a de Lohr tunic, the man with the beard, had also stopped by the royal box to speak with the woman, but that didn’t mean a thing. She could be a family friend or he could be a relative. A wife, even.

  A lover.

  Feeling bewildered and greatly disappointed, Emilie tried to tell herself that David would not have taken her favor had he been married, or even if he’d had another special woman, especially when the woman was seated within close proximity of her, but the truth is that she didn’t know him. She didn’t know the man’s character. It was true that he was a gallant knight and had saved her from certain doom, but beyond that, David de Lohr was a man she knew nothing about. He was a great knight from a great family, so perhaps he was only toying with a naïve young woman to feed an overinflated ego.

  Perhaps he’d only paid attention to her because she had all but thrown herself at him.

  Lost in thought, she was aware when David passed by the lists where she was sitting. Women were screaming his name, throwing ribbons and flowers in his direction, but he ignored them all. He lifted his visor to seek out Emilie, who was gazing back at him with not much enthusiasm at all. He was smiling at her but she didn’t smile back. In fact, in a rush of embarrassment and disappointment, she suddenly stood up and dashed from the lists before Lillibet could stop her.

  Emilie raced down the stairs from the list, losing herself in the crowd as two of her father’s soldiers went in pursuit. She didn’t want to be caught. She wanted to go back to the apartments they had been staying in and wait for this terrible spectacle to be over. She wanted to go home and not think about the knight who had taken her favor when he’d clearly had another lady in the lists. She felt humiliated and sad and disappointed, ashamed that she had been duped by one of the great de Lohrs.

  She felt like a fool.

  The streets were dirty and busy, smeared with hundreds of people coming to and from the tournament field. There were also dozens of vendor stalls along the avenue selling food and drink and other things, and people were crowding up around them, making big obstacles for her to walk around. The problem, however, was that she wasn’t walking – she was running, so on more than one occasion, she ran right through a group of people without stopping, knocking back one of the men. She never even apologized.

  By the time she reached the eastern end of the arena, she was out of breath and verging on tears. A quick look over her shoulder showed her father’s men close behind and she knew, in long run, that she wouldn’t be able to stay ahead of them. They would catch her, eventually, if she tried to make it to the apartments and she didn’t want to be caught, not now. She needed time alone, to think and recover her composure.

  She needed time to breathe.

  A glance at her surroundings showed that she was at the same intersection where she had been standing with David and the other knights when the prince had first made an appearance. She recognized the alleyway David had taken her into, the one that led to the small alcove with the vine and the stone bench. In a flash, she darted into the alleyway to shake her pursuers and, very quickly, she found herself along the walkway between stalls where the bench wait, cold and in the shade. It was partially hidden by the vine. Emilie sat down on the bench and huddled back against the wall, as far away as she could get from the walkway.

  And she waited for her father’s men to come upon her at any moment. Already, she was prepared for the disappointment that would bring, knowing they would be forced to escort her back to the lists. But the more seconds ticked away and no one came, the more she thought that she might have avoided capture. It was cool and shady in the little alcove, the little stone bench where she’d had her first real conversation with David. The first conversation with a man that had gone beyond simple flirtation. It had actually meant something to her.

  Emilie wasn’t the flighty type but she didn’t like being made a fool of. She didn’t want to sit in the arena and watch David wave to one woman and then try to warm to her in the next motion. She wouldn’t be one of a crowd; if he wanted more than one woman, then he would have look elsewhere. She wasn’t apt to be that kind of girl. So the best thing for her to do was leave so she didn’t have to see David and his flirtation with the other woman. He could keep her favor for all she cared. She didn’t want it back now. It clearly meant nothing to him.

  She tried to tell herself that it meant nothing to her, either, but the truth was that it had. She was drawn to David as she had never been drawn to anyone in her life. Something about the man sucked her in and held her fast, refusing to let go. Perhaps it was her youth or her naïve nature that caused her to feel such attraction to the man, but she didn’t think that was the case. She’d known attractive men before. A few had even pursued her. But David de Lohr… well, he was different.

  Hanging her head, she fidgeted with her hands, trying to convince herself that David de Lohr wasn’t worth fretting over. Surely there were other fine knights who were worthy of her attention, men who wouldn’t ask for her favor yet flirt with another. She hadn’t really notice any because she’d been so focused on David, but she was certain that there must be some. She supposed that she would need to find one or two, or maybe more to battle over her. Fighting suitors had always upset her father and annoyed Brickley. It was rather fun to watch them condemn men who were emotional enough to challenge each other over a woman. Thinking on the subject brought a smile to her lips.

  “I had a feeling I might find you here.”

  A soft, deep voice startled her. Emilie’s head snapped up to see David standing a few feet away, looking at her. He was still dressed in the mail and tunic she had seen him wear when competing. In fact, he was in full battle regalia except for his helm. It was a rather imposing and proud sight. His blond hair, close-cropped, was stiff with perspiration, and his eyes were both warm and concerned.

  Emilie didn’t want to see that look in his eye and she quickly looked away, her heart pounding with distress now that he was in her midst. “It… it is nice and quiet here,” she said, lying to him in the hopes that he would believe whatever she said and simply go away. “The lists are so crowded and busy and dirty that I… I had to leave. I do not like crowds, anyway. I was hoping no one would find me.”

  David’s gaze remained steady on her; he wasn’t an idiot. He could see that something had upset her and he suspected what it was. He had from the moment she had fled the lists because he could read it in her expression. When she’d run, he’d immediately bolted for the arena gate, leaving his horse with one of the de Lohr squires as he went in pursuit of her. He’d hoped to impress her with his bout but he could see that he’d only upset her. Perhaps he’d even discouraged her. Odd how he cared what she thought, but the truth was that he did. He cared a great deal although he had no idea why he should.

  “Then I am sorry to impose upon your solitude,” he said. “As your father’s men are running in circles, I thought I might find you here. Call it a hunch.”

  He was smiling when he said it, but Emilie didn’t see his smile. She simply nodded, keeping her eyes averted.

  “Now that you have found me, mayhap you will do me the honor of leaving me in peace,” she said. “As I said, it is quiet here away from the crowds. I rather like it here.”

  David could see the change in her manner and he sought to reassure her on what he thought was her problem.

  “You need no
t be embarrassed, Lady Emilie,” he said. “The joust is a violent spectacle and is not for everyone. I do not blame you for not wanting to watch it but I am truly sorry that it upset you so. I am sorry if I had a part in that.”

  He sounded so sincere, so caring, but Emilie would not be fooled. Perhaps that was one of his tricks, a ploy to lull women into a false sense of security with him. “I am not upset,” she said, though her manner was stiff. “I simply wish to be left alone.”

  David didn’t know her well enough to know why she was suddenly so cold to him. From any other woman, he wouldn’t have cared a lick, but from Emilie… aye, he cared. He cared more than he wanted to admit. But he wasn’t going to give in to the gnawing urge to know why she was being so cold with him when not an hour earlier, there had been warmth and interest in her eyes. She had asked him to leave, so leave he would.

  “Very well, my lady,” he said. “I am sorry to have bothered you.”

  Emilie was still looking at the hands in her lap. “You did not.”

  David’s gaze lingered on her. “Am I to understand you will not be returning to the games?”

  She shook her head. “Nay, I will not.”

  He reached into his tunic and pulled forth her favor. “Would you like this returned, then?”

  Emilie had to look at him in order to see what he meant and when she saw her pale kerchief, she reached out and took it from his grasp.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  David didn’t say another word. He simply turned on his heel and headed out of the secluded area but he hadn’t taken five steps when his curiosity, and concern, got the better of him. He was truly at a loss at her turn in behavior and could only imagine it was because he had done something to offend her. He must have done it unknowingly because he truly couldn’t figure out what it might be. Or, perhaps, someone had told her something about him, something frightening? He shouldn’t have asked her but he couldn’t help himself. He very much wanted to know if he’d done something to offend her if, for no other reason, to know what in the hell he’d done.