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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He gazed back at her, impressed with her argument, but firm nonetheless. “I must do what I feel is right for my sister,” he said. “ ’Tis not her choice to make, nor yours, nor Gowen’s. ’Tis mine.”

  Dustin crossed her arms angrily over her rounded stomach. “And what if Deborah were your daughter, Chris? Would you marry her off to a man simply because he could protect her and forget about her happiness?”

  His stance softened imperceptibly. “Dustin, you are asking me to make a decision of the heart when I must make it of the head.”

  “And you are avoiding answering me because you know I am I right,” she said, feeling herself gaining the advantage. “If you are so concerned with Deborah’s protection, then why can’t she and Gowen live here, with us? That way, you will be able to protect her always. Would you deny her the happiness we have found?”

  He stared back at her for a few moments. When he spoke, his voice was soft and warm. “When did you become so wise?” he asked. “Did this miraculously happen while I was away?”

  She grinned. “I have had to do several things on my own since you were away, including sleeping alone in your great bed.”

  “No longer,” he said, returning her smile. After a moment, he sighed with resignation. “Very well, wife. I will meet this Gowen and decide for myself whether or not he is worthy of my sister.”

  “Stop saying his name so disdainfully,” she insisted. “I have known Gowen since we were children. He is a fine man.”

  He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her over to the bed. “He was not, perchance, one of the many suitors you had while your father was away?”

  She shook her head. “Nay, he wasn’t interested in me or the keep. But he is very interested in Deborah.”

  Christopher grumbled. “Well for him that he did not set his sights on you, else I would not allow him near my fortress.”

  She only smiled, thinking how firmly he spoke of other men’s feelings for her when he had allowed Marcus, mayhap the biggest threat of all, to be so close to her. She remembered Deborah’s own words, how Christopher had feigned ignorance where Marcus was concerned because of his respect for Marcus, and she saw the words to be true. He had killed on her behalf before and was not hesitant to do so again, yet he completely overlooked Marcus Burton. She wondered if he knew of the full extent of her relationship with Marcus, if he would still continue to overlook the obvious.

  She doubted it.

  *

  Deborah returned to the keep by mid-afternoon after being informed her brothers had returned. She would have left sooner but she did not want to leave Gowen in the middle of a class, so she waited eagerly for the session to end. She gazed out of the lancet window up to the massive fortress on the rise, excited to see Christopher and David, and excited to tell them about Gowen.

  Gowen accompanied her to the fortress, much more nervous than he would admit now that he was about to meet mayhap the most powerful warrior in the realm. He could scarce believe Deborah returned his feelings, and he furthermore knew he wasn’t the least bit good enough for her.

  But he kept his ideas to himself, hoping beyond hope that the baron would somehow bring forth a miracle and accept him. If he did not, then Gowen knew he would surely never marry because he loved Deborah far too much to consider another woman. But if he did, then he would be truly astonished. He prayed harder than he ever had that the baron would receive him, considering he was the father of Deborah’s unborn child.

  Max opened the gates for Deborah and Gowen, smiling amiably at the tall young man, not missing the chance to throw in a few good jibes at the scholar’s expense. Gowen laughed but Deborah angrily shushed Max as they made their way to the front door.

  The interior of the castle was dark but faintly warm, with smells of meat roasting for supper hovering in the air. A stocky black-and-white mutt appeared out of the darkness and growled menacingly at them, but reconsidered after smelling at Deborah’s dress. Then, as if he gave approval for their presence, trotted off.

  “What was that?” Gowen whispered, watching the frightening dog disappear.

  “Hal,” Deborah told him. “He’s my brother’s dog.”

  Dustin appeared from the hall, her face lit up with a beautiful smile. Gowen smiled back immediately, for Dustin always had that effect on him. He’d always thought her to be the most beautiful woman in the world, a dream so far beyond his grasp he had never thought to pursue it. Instead, he had been happy to be her friend.

  Deborah and Dustin hugged each other tightly. “He’s back,” Deborah sighed. “Oh, Dustin, I am so happy. And David, too. Are they well?”

  “In fighting form,” Dustin said gleefully, then watched as Gowen’s face paled. “So sorry, Gowen. I did not mean fight you.”

  They giggled as Gowen pretended to wipe his brow. “Did you tell him?” Deborah asked softly.

  Dustin nodded. “Aye, I did,” she replied, her voice quiet. They could all hear voices coming from the great hall directly ahead and knew the baron to be in there. “I told him everything I dare.”

  Deborah nodded. “ ’Tis up to me to tell him the rest.” She gazed back at Gowen and held out her hand. “But I appreciate you preparing him.”

  Dustin looked serious. “You have got to tell him everything, Deborah. Even if he rages and tears the place up, he must be told. ’Twill only be a few more weeks and he will guess everything.”

  “I know.” Deborah and Gowen held hands tightly. “Oh, Dustin, you do not think he will hurt Gowen, do you?”

  “Absolutely not,” Dustin said emphatically. “I will not allow it. I shall throw myself in front of Gowen if I have to, if that is what it takes to stop him.”

  Gowen tried to get a better look at the occupants inside the room. “Which one is he?”

  “At the head of the table, with the beard,” Dustin said, her eyes finding her husband immediately.

  “Which one? Oh….that one?” Gowen swallowed. “Good Lord, Dustin, you never told me that he was as big as a mountain. Oh, my dear God….”

  He trailed off, looking sick, and Dustin shook her head. “Stop that,” she admonished gently. “He is as gentle as a kitten.”

  Deborah gave Dustin a disbelieving look but said nothing, and Dustin took Gowen’s other hand.

  “Come now and meet him,” she said, then fixed him with a pointed look. “And relax.”

  Dustin was the first one into the dining hall, smiling brightly at her husband. He returned the gesture and kissed her hand. He was about to say something to her when he caught sight of his sister leading a very tall, lanky young man behind her. Instantly, the smile vanished.

  “Lady Deborah,” he said formally. “How good of you to break away from your busy schedule to welcome me home.”

  Deborah let go of Gowen and went to Christopher, kissing him dutifully on the cheek before moving around to David. Gowen, meanwhile, felt the weighty stares of Richard’s most powerful knights and he had never in his life been so scared. But Deborah smiled at him, putting her hand on Christopher’s shoulder.

  “Chris, I would like for you to meet someone very dear to me,” she said softly. “This is Gowen Olmquist. Gowen, I’d like you to meet my brother, Baron Christopher de Lohr.”

  Gowen bowed gallantly, even though he was shaking like a leaf. “My lord, ’tis an honor and a pleasure,” he said kindly.

  Christopher did not say a word. He scrutinized Gowen, his silence sending the terror of the devil through the young man. He was extremely tall and thin, but was a nice-looking boy with dark blond hair and a thin mustache. His blue eyes were wide and honest, giving him a rather innocent look.

  Dustin was feeling very uncomfortable for Gowen. She glanced at Deborah, seeing that her sister-in-law was also very uncomfortable. When she squeezed Christopher’s hand insistently, he ignored her.

  “How old are you, boy?” Leeton asked, not sounding at all like the friendly man they all knew.

  “Twenty-five years, sire,” Gowen repl
ied. He had a wonderful speaking voice.

  David, having studied his fill of Gowen, cleared his throat loudly and reached for his goblet. Dustin was about ready to kill all of them for their inexcusable rudeness, wondering why Christopher was being so bloody cold.

  “Gowen and I met when we were five years old,” she said, as she let go of her husband and went to her friend, entwining her arm in his. “He had a beehive and I used to pester him endlessly for honey. But being a true gentleman, he always granted my requests.”

  She made sure she was looking at Christopher when she said “true gentleman.” Christopher did not so much as raise an eyebrow at her and David sat his goblet down and looked at Gowen curiously.

  “Do you still raise bees?” he asked distastefully.

  Dustin was infuriated with their arrogant attitude and condescending tone, and was preparing to tell them so when Gowen replied to David’s question.

  “Nay, sire, I do not,” Gowen answered politely. “ ’Twas a childhood hobby, nothing more. I spend my time teaching these days, and translating.”

  “Translating what?” David asked.

  “The Bible,” Gowen replied evenly. “I am in the process of translating the Bible from Latin to Welsh for a few of the Welsh border lords.”

  David cast Christopher a long look before turning away. Christopher, however, continued to stare at Gowen, analyzing every move the man made. The other knights ignored the young man as if he were no more than a spider in the corner, and Dustin was incensed. Christopher stared at the young man for several more tense moments before looking back to his ale.

  “He may stay and sup with us,” he said.

  Dustin was mad enough to spit. “Oh, thank you, Your Holiness,” she said with great exaggeration. “Your gracious benevolence is appreciated.”

  Anthony snorted into his goblet, the only reaction to her sarcastic remark. Christopher drank what was left in his cup, eyeing his sister.

  “You look well enough,” he commented. “How is Lioncross agreeing with you?”

  Deborah was close to angry, embarrassed tears. “Well, my lord,” she said. “Gowen has been most helpful acclimating me to the surroundings.”

  Christopher acted as if he didn’t hear her. “I fought with someone you knew at Norwich, Deborah,” he said casually. “Sir Liam Donavan. Do remember him? He certainly remembered you.”

  Dustin’s mouth went agape. She squeezed Gowen’s arm encouragingly before moving back to her husband.

  “What does she care about Sir Liam Donavan?” she snapped softly. “We were speaking of Gowen.”

  Christopher gave his wife a lazy glance. “Mayhap you were. I was simply curious if she remembered a man who she seemed to have left an indelible impression on. David, do you remember Sir Liam?”

  “Aye,” David said with a firm nod. “A hell of a fighter. Swings a broadsword as well as anyone.”

  Deborah turned away, fighting off tears. She went over to Gowen and took his arm, urging him with her. Dustin watched them leave the room, enraged like the devil. When she heard the front door slam softly, she turned to her husband as if to kill him.

  “How dare you treat him as if he were as common as dirt!” she exclaimed. “I have always known you to be arrogant and pompous, but I have never known you to be so utterly rude. I cannot believe you did not even respond to his greeting. Of all the conceited, nasty, haughty…..”

  She was raging and he put his hand up to still her, but she yanked away from him, telling them all what horrible, insensitive creatures they were. They were terrible, mean and cruel. Even Edward received an earful, for he had befriended Gowen over the past few months and she berated him for not defending him. No one was safe or spared from her tirade. Christopher sat and listened to her, knowing every word was true. But he had intended for it to be exactly as it was.

  “Dustin,” he said calmly.

  “Do not talk to me,” she snapped. “I am not finished with you yet.”

  “Aye, you are,” he said. “I have heard enough.”

  “No, you have not,” she threw back at him. “Christopher de Lohr, if you do not go and apologize to Gowen and Deborah right now, you can sleep with your soldiers tonight.”

  The knights, their heads lowered liked scolded dogs, glanced around at each other in anticipation of Christopher’s reply. Their liege rose slowly to his feet, his gaze fixed on his wife.

  “Do not threaten me,” he said quietly. “Come here and sit down before you upset yourself.”

  “I will not,” she snapped, turning her back on him and marching from the room.

  Christopher went after her, his boots clapping loudly on the stones as he pursued his wife to their bedchamber. She slammed the door a few seconds in front of him, only to have it swing open violently and slam again, hard enough to rattle the furniture. The knights looked at each other and shook then heads; another bout was about to begin between the baron and his enraged wife.

  Dustin stormed to the other side of the room, completely ignoring Christopher as she began to dig through the wardrobe and throw his clothes all over the room. He watched her with building irritation, but also with a certain amount of amusement; she could be very physical when riled, but her movements were so jerky and magnified that they were comical. He had heard that pregnant women were often moody and volatile, but he honestly imagined Dustin more animated than she already was. He was wrong.

  “What are you doing?” he asked calmly enough.

  “Do not talk to me, you…you ogre,” she growled, yanking a tunic off her head that had inadvertently landed there. “You are the meanest, nastiest man alive. I cannot believe how cold you were to my friend, and Deborah’s lover. Gowen is a very nice man, but you wouldn’t know anything about being nice, would you?”

  He bit off a smile as her arms flailed about, determinedly tossing his clothes into a pile. “What are you doing with my clothes?” he asked.

  “I told you not to talk to me!” She tugged roughly at a pair of lodged hose and nearly fell over when they suddenly pulled free. Christopher took several rapid steps to steady her, but she regained her feet and dashed away from him. “Don’t touch me!”

  He put his hands on his hips. “Dustin, I have not seen you in six months,” he said. “Are we to spend our first night together quarreling?”

  Her face was dark and pouting, but he saw a flicker of doubt in the gray eyes. “Well you…you should not have been so mean. Why were you so mean to him?”

  “I was not mean; I never said a word to him,” he said, putting up a hand to silence her as he proceeded to explain. “Sometimes, my lady, one can deduce a great deal by simply being still and watching. I simply sat and watched him as he reacted to you, to Deborah, to David and Leeton. There is nothing ‘mean’ about that. There is a great deal to learned about one’s character and behavior when facing a new situation.”

  “You made him terribly uncomfortable,” she insisted. “And Deborah, too. She was crying when she left.”

  “I know, and for that, I am sorry,” he said sincerely, taking a step toward her. “But I want to observe her Gowen before I speak with him.”

  “Why? To determine if he is worthy of your attention?” she said cynically. “Even I am not that prideful, husband. I do not think everyone is beneath me.”

  “Nor do I,” he said, standing directly in front of her, gazing down into her face. “But it is undeniable that certain people have certain stations in this life. If I deem Gowen unworthy of our family, I will deny him.”

  “You cannot,” she insisted but quickly caught herself, horrified that she almost slipped with the most private of secrets.

  “I can, and I will if it is necessary,” he said evenly. “Now, I do not want to fight about this anymore. I want to walk about my keep, with you, and see what has happened to it in my absence.”

  “Will you go and apologize to Gowen and Deborah?” she asked.

  “To my sister, yes. But tonight will tell whether I apologize to
Gowen or throw him out of my keep,” he said, tapping her chin with his forefinger.

  Up on their bed, Caesar awoke and stretched a long, cat stretch. He yawned contentedly and licked his chops, his eyes focusing on his master and mistress and emitting a loud meow.

  “So you awaken after the storm has passed, you wicked beast?” Christopher said. “Have you become acquainted with Harold yet? I forbid you to make a meal of him.”

  Dustin smiled, rubbing her belly as the baby kicked. Christopher put his hand on her stomach, too.

  “He’s so strong,” he said, the joy of the baby’s movements alight in his eyes. “He is not even born yet. Aye, this lad will be the most powerful knight that England has yet to see.”

  “And fight with you?” she turned her sweet face up to him, her eyes soft and caressing. “I do not think I want my son to fight.”

  “Why not?” he insisted. “ ’Tis well enough for your husband to fight. Why not your son?”

  “Because,” she shrugged. “ ’Tis different, that’s all.”

  He smiled, pulling her into an embrace. “Your motherly instincts are showing, Lady de Lohr. You cannot protect your child always.”

  “I know,” she lay her head against his chest, sighing with contentment. Lord, she had missed him. “Chris, when are you returning?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, his hands caressing her. “John is quiet now, holed up at Nottingham. I suppose whenever he moves again, I shall leave. But I fully intend to be here for the birth of my son.”

  “But that is almost three months away,” she said.

  He kissed the top of her head, not knowing what to say. Quite a lot could happen in three months.

  *

  The supper hour rolled around and the servants set out a splendid meal for their master returned. The knights, having enjoyed a leisurely afternoon, appeared at supper bathed and dressed and fully intended to stuff themselves ill on the well-prepared food. Dustin and Christopher were also finely dressed in celebration of Christopher and David’s return, and they sat down to a table loaded with delights.