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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Gabrielle kissed the baby several times. “I miss her already, Dustin. But you are correct; she is not safe here.”

  Suddenly the door swung open and Ralph was in the doorway, his beady black eyes focusing on Dustin immediately. Dustin’s heart went into her throat; she was terrified that Ralph had heard everything as he wandered slowly toward them.

  “My ladies,” he greeted, eyeing Christin as if she were a lower life form. “The prelude to the evening meal is being served in the main hall. Lady Dustin, I have been asked to accompany you.”

  Dustin blanched; her plans and her daughter. She began to shake, praying Ralph could not see her despair and fought the urge to tell him to go to hell. She must remain polite and neutral if she were going to get through this.

  “I see,” she said hoarsely, clutching Christin. “May I at least change clothing?”

  Ralph’s eyes raked over her pregnant form in the soft linen surcoat. “No need, I’d say. You look ravishing.”

  With one attempt to stall foiled, Dustin cleared her throat and glanced at Gabrielle, a plan formulating quickly in her mind. “Is Lady Gabrielle to attend, also?”

  Ralph looked at Gabrielle disinterestedly. “Not that I know of. The whores do not usually eat with the privileged.”

  Dustin was stung on behalf of Gabrielle, who met the statement unflinchingly. Suddenly, she saw the way clear and felt a gush of relief as she handed Christin into Gabrielle’s arms.

  “Very well, Ralph,” she said briskly. “Gabrielle, be sure and take Christin for her walk in the bailey or she will never get to sleep. And be sure to stop by the cobbler’s shed as I was planning to and see if he has made those shoes in my size.”

  Gabrielle’s stunned face suddenly registered realization, and she nodded. “As you say, my lady. ’Twill be my pleasure.”

  Dustin smiled at her, her body quivering with anxiety and relief. Ralph didn’t notice, however; he reached out, taking her elbow.

  “Come then, Lady Dustin,” he said. “Your admiring throng awaits.”

  She avoided his gaze, wondering who composed this “admiring throng” and allowed him to lead her from the room.

  When the door closed, Gabrielle let out a loud exhale and looked at Christin.

  “Come now, little one,” she kissed her shakily on the forehead. “Your escort awaits.”

  Darren was indeed waiting. Even though he did not know who the strange woman was who was holding Christin, she seemed to focus on him immediately and walked directly toward him. She was a beautiful, refined woman and he found himself speechless as she reached him.

  “You must take Christin,” she whispered, handing the babe to him. “There is no time to waste.”

  He took the child, open-mouthed, a hundred questions bubbling forth in his mind.

  “Who are you? How do you know me?” he stammered, all the while glancing about to make sure none of John’s soldiers were watching.

  “I am a friend of Lady Dustin’s,” Gabrielle explained quickly. “Hurry. You must leave.”

  “Wait!” Darren insisted. “Where is Lady Dustin? And how do you know me?”

  Gabrielle looked over her shoulder nervously. “Lady Dustin is with John and Ralph at the moment. I knew you were Lord Christopher’s squire because you have that look about you. Now go.”

  “What look?” Darren demanded.

  Gabrielle gave him a small smile. “The look of goodness and purity. You are soon to be a knight, are you not? Now, please hurry before you are discovered. They would not take kindly to you, young squire.”

  Darren tore his eyes off her lovely face and looked about, not wanting to be found out, especially with little Christin in his arms. Everything was happening so fast and nothing was as he and Lord Christopher had intended. He had barely been in Nottingham half a day and already, he was leaving. But he was leaving with a most precious cargo, and he knew that his liege would not fault him for straying from the objective.

  He glanced down at Christin’s wide gray eyes, looking up at him with interest. He felt his heart soften, the unmistakable swell of protectiveness filling him. She was so young, so trusting, and he would not fail her. He could not. This was his liege’s child, his flesh and blood, and he would protect her with his life. He was still torn for the fact that he would not be remaining behind to shadow Lady Dustin, but he saw that this little life was more important, as her mother had insisted.

  “Thank you, then, my lady,” he whispered, covering Christin’s head with his heavy black cloak. “I shall do as ordered.”

  Gabrielle turned her back on him, not so much as acknowledging his reply. She was shaking with fear, afraid that someone had seen her pass the baby off. John’s men were everywhere and she was constantly watched, but she was as sure as she could be that this time, no one had followed her. They were beginning to trust her more and, therefore, hound her less.

  With a straight back and the confidence of knowing that her plight would soon be ended with the approach of Richard, she made her way back into the castle.

  *

  Dustin was in a living nightmare. With John on one side of her and Ralph on the other, she fought off wave after wave of nausea. Sir Dennis and her grandfather, Lord Bruce, rounded out the lovely little group and she knew she had a permanently sour expression, but it did not matter. She did not care what they thought.

  “You are not wearing the jewels I sent to you,” Lord Bruce said firstly, forgoing any greeting.

  Dustin was tired of being nice, tired of being respectful to the point of servitude. Her husband and the bloody king of England were coming for her and with that knowledge, she felt confident. With men so potent on her side, how could the likes of John and Ralph and her grandsire harm her? She fixed Lord Bruce right in the eye.

  “Obviously, you do not know me well, sire,” she said coldly. “I hate jewels and frivolous clothes. I will wear what I deem comfortable.”

  She had John and Ralph’s attention with that statement. They looked to Lord Bruce to see how he would react. Lord Bruce did not disappoint; his eyes narrowed the same way his granddaughter’s did when she was displeased.

  “You will wear what I request, Lady Dustin,” he countered. “And furthermore, you will not take such a tone with me lest you find your backside blistered.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” she shot back, tired and irritated and full of pregnant hormones.

  His eyebrows shot up. “Do you test me, then? I shall put you over my knee as I did your mother when she was disrespectful.”

  Dustin raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him, glancing at John and feeling the need to play one man against the other. She had created dissension within Christopher’s ranks unknowingly; she wondered what she could do to John’s men should she set her mind to it. She could confuse and anger them so greatly that mayhap they would be glad to hand her over to Richard and Christopher without much of a protest. For whatever the reason, she would give them the respect they were giving her.

  “My mother is dead, Lord Bruce, and unable to verify your story,” she said, giving John her full attention. “What would you recommend to eat, sire? This dish looks interesting.”

  John was amused to see her ignoring Bruce plainly. The man had boasted endlessly about his family ties when he had discovered his granddaughter was a woman of importance, but she clearly wanted nothing to do with him. John himself actually spooned her a helping of the capon in fruit sauce and sat back while she delved into it.

  But Bruce was furious with her behavior. He was embarrassed at the very least. “Sire, I would speak with my granddaughter alone, with your permission,” Lord Bruce said, and got up from his chair.

  John put up a hand. “You may speak with her if that is all you truly intend to do,” he said. “I forbid you to lay a hand on her, Bruce. I mean it.”

  Bruce flushed red, eyeing Dustin angrily but seeing the situation for what it was. John wanted his granddaughter for himself and he would not be allowed to lay a hand on her, at
least until he had grown tired of the game. John did not like damaged goods.

  Slowly, he regained his seat and tried to focus on something other than his damaged pride. Dustin, fully aware of her grandfather’s embarrassment, continued to eat what was in front of her and ignored Bruce completely. It was strange that she felt safer with John than with her own grandfather. Yet in truth she felt safe with none of them, and she was hard pressed to decide the lesser of the evils.

  “Tell me, my lady, what was it like being married to the two greatest warriors this realm has ever seen?” Sir Dennis asked, his eyes glittering over the top of his bejeweled goblet.

  Dustin’s head snapped up; she had expected as much from the man and fought to control her emotions.

  “That depends, Sir Dennis,” she said. “They were both kind, noble men.”

  “That’s not what he meant,” Ralph quipped snidely. “He wanted to know who is better in bed.”

  Dustin cringed inwardly; how could they speak so callously of such a wonderful, loving act? Shocked, she swallowed her mouth of food and prepared to reply when Sir Dennis cut in.

  “You always know what I am thinking, do you not?” Dennis laughed. “Let’s make a bet, mon frere. I say the de Lohr is the better lay. What say you?”

  Ralph grinned lewdly. “I have heard that Burton is a tiger, but then again, what would I know?” He looked at Dustin. “Here sits his former wife. Why not ask her?”

  Dustin stared back, disgusted and sickened at the conversation. But she could play lewd games with the best of them rather than let them see how badly they had upset her. Mayhap if they saw she wasn’t the least bit sensitive about her “marriages,” then they might leave well enough alone. Primly, she folded her hands and collected her thoughts before fixing Sir Dennis in the eye. Let her beat them at their own game.

  “They are both men among men, let me assure you,” she said softly with a trace of seduction. “Marcus Burton can bring a scream to my lips within thirty seconds and Christopher de Lohr can play games until the sun rises. Any more questions?”

  John paused with a spoon half way to his mouth. Sir Dennis and Ralph gazed back at Dustin with surprise, glancing at each other after a moment. They had thoroughly hoped to upset and unbalance Lady Dustin, but instead, she was meeting their challenge. This small slip of a woman who had managed to snare the love of the greatest knights of their time was holding her own against her formidable rivals and they felt the game slipping away, losing interest. There was no point in playing if she was not going to respond.

  “But…who is better?” Sir Dennis tried one last time.

  Dustin sat back in her chair, her eyes glittering like storm clouds. “Christopher, without a doubt. Although Marcus is no amateur.” She offered a triumphant little smile to cap off her performance.

  John was looking at her with a great deal of amusement. “My, my, you are frank, aren’t you? True ladies do not boast of their conquests, you know.”

  “Since when have I been considered a true lady?” Dustin shot back with a smirk. It was becoming easier to play their game as she went along. “With the exception of a few, every woman at Windsor disliked me intensely and I was considered something of a passing fad.”

  “Not true,” John returned. “I know you were very popular, for a fact.”

  “My husband was very popular, sire,” Dustin corrected.

  “Popular with the women. They only wanted me around because I was his wife. I must say, those bitches were a bore.”

  John laughed softly and Dustin joined in boisterously, eyeing Ralph and her smile vanished unnaturally fast. “What is it with you, Fitz Walter? Don’t you have a sense of humor?”

  Ralph raised a greasy black eyebrow at her. “My lady is…most different without her husband hanging about.”

  Dustin threw up her hands. “He is a bore, too. Do not do this, Dustin. Do not sit this way. Do not ride astride.” She mimicked Christopher’s sternness. “The man kept me bridled like a brood mare. Acted like my damn father more than my husband.”

  “But you love him,” Ralph stated.

  A stab of pain went into Dustin’s heart; Lord, she loved him more than life itself. Her loud demeanor faltered slightly. “Aye, I do. He is a kind man. But I did not say what kind.”

  John laughed loudly and slapped his hand against the table, calling for more wine in the process.

  “I know what kind,” he said, then eyed Dustin slowly. “You are putting on quite a show for our benefit, my lady.”

  Dustin twitched with surprise; mayhap her acting wasn’t all that grand. But she had to pretend they did not frighten her, that she really did not care about Christopher or Marcus. They could not see just how terrified she was.

  “ ’Tis no act, I assure you, sire,” she said, lowering her lashes. “Before you is the real Lady Dustin Barringdon de Lohr.”

  He raised a questioning eyebrow but said nothing. He wasn’t sure what to think anymore, but he was not so gullible that he sincerely believed her. Mayhap there was part truth to her statement, but he doubted it. In his experience, women were scheming cows.

  “Tell me my lady, will you compare me to de Lohr and Burton’s expertise in the bedchamber?” he leaned close to her. “I wonder what you will tell others about me?”

  Dustin went white; the fear she was trying desperately to control returned fully. “I will tell…..nothing, of course, sire.”

  “Lying wench,” he hissed, moving away and drinking deeply of his goblet.

  Dustin was quivering but controlled it well; she had known all along that John planned to couple with her, but she prayed he would take pity on her physical condition. She had heard through the palace rumor mills that the prince was hung like a prize stallion and she had no desire to see firsthand for herself. The thought of him touching her in such a manner almost made her retch right there at the table.

  John laughed at her. He could see her discomfort and he knew immediately that her entire facade was an act.

  “Do you know that Ralph and I were planning to abduct you from Windsor?” he said with a smile on his lips.

  Dustin looked at him. “What?”

  He nodded, amused at her shock. “We were planning on kidnapping you and taking you far away, to Wales in fact, simply to bring de Lohr to his knees.” He leaned forward, toying with the cross around her neck. “The trouble was that he never left you unguarded and the one attempt we did make was costly. There was never the proper opportunity and I had too many other bloody things on my mind to make your capture a firm priority.”

  Dustin was shocked but the prince prattled on, having imbibed too much wine. “After you fell down the stairs and lost your child, he never left you alone and we knew it would be futile to make another attempt. But it was always in our mind, wasn’t it, Ralph, to somehow abduct you and hold you over de Lohr’s head. Our plans were grand, indeed, but somehow we never had the chance to carry them out. We wanted to bring you here to Nottingham and hide you from de Lohr, but the moment was never right. I had too many pressing problems. Yet when de Lohr was said to have been killed in battle, most of my problems seemed to have resolved and we forgot about abducting you.”

  Dustin was sitting as far away from him as she could get, her eyes wide with horror. She realized how much she had helped John’s cause by walking right into his lap, and she furthermore prayed to God that Gabrielle had managed to get Christin to Darren. She knew John and Ralph were conspiring against her husband, but she never truly believed she would be their tool. Christopher had told her once that they would try to exploit his weaknesses and she saw now how right he had been. The thought processes of John and Ralph were exactly as her husband said they were.

  “What do you intend to do with me?” she heard herself asking, hating herself for sounding scared.

  John smiled lazily, drinking more wine. “Nothing, for the moment. I do not have to. Richard is aware we have you and no doubt, so is de Lohr. I want to thank you, Lady Dustin, for helping
us accomplish a great deal with very little effort.”

  If Dustin had had a dagger, she would have killed herself for her own stupidity. What on God’s earth had she been thinking when she had set out alone? She had been scared, confused and disoriented, but she had not been stripped of her common sense. What had Christopher said to her once, a long time ago? That John would find a way to use her to destroy her husband? Now, thanks to her lapse in judgment, Christopher was probably in more danger than he had ever been in his life because she knew he would walk through fire to rescue her. And so did John.

  She could not speak anymore. She looked away from the prince, cursing herself silently with every breath.

  “What? No more chatting? No more frankness?” John stuck out his lip. “I am disappointed, Lady Dustin. Surely you would entertain us more.”

  Dustin shook her head. “Nay, sire, I am quite weary,” she whispered. “I would retire now.”

  John shrugged. “Very well, if you must. Ralph, you will escort Lady de Lohr.”

  Ralph stood up and pulled Dustin out of her chair. “With pleasure, my lord.”

  “Do not touch her,” John spat, pointing a finger at his sheriff. “I will not have your leftovers.”

  “As you say, my lord,” Ralph agreed, gripping Dustin’s arm as he led her from the hall.

  Ralph took Dustin to her chamber and opened the door, lingering a moment as she entered. Dustin refused to meet his eye, wishing he would go away.

  “You know, you struck me once. Do you remember?” he asked.

  Dustin looked at him, then. “Aye, I do.”

  He nodded faintly, studying her face and trying to read her emotions. She did well at hiding her feelings.

  “Then know that I intend to seek revenge on you, one way or the other,” he said. “I may slap you back, or I may take it out of your hide. I just wanted you to be aware of my plans, my lady.”

  He did not frighten her, merely made her angry. “And I shall be sure and inform the prince of your plans, also.”