Chapter Twelve
Marcus stood stiffly in Prince John’s antechamber, his jaw ticking with frustration.
Ralph and the prince sat several feet away, side by side, as if they were an ugly pair of statues.
The conversation had reached a lull with Marcus refusing to budge and Ralph nursing a sore jaw.
If it were up to Marcus, he would be nursing a broken neck as well.
John sat back in his silk chair, angry at the refusal of this mere knight to champion him but holding his temper for the moment. He would gain nothing if he erupted and he knew it.
“Tell me again why this proposal is so distasteful to you, Burton,” he asked nicely, hoping to cool the enraged man. An angry Marcus Burton was not healthy for anyone.
Marcus gazed at him impassively. “I serve Baron Christopher de Lohr, and King Richard is my liege. I will serve no other.”
“But I am Richard’s brother,” John pleaded. “As crown prince, ’tis right that you should serve me as well, is it not?”
“Nay,” Marcus said flatly. “I serve my king.”
Ralph muttered something but John cut him off, switching tactics. It was obvious Marcus Burton could not be ordered, pushed or tricked into anything; they had been trying that for the better part of the hour. Therefore, he would try another route.
“Burton, you are the best knight in the realm, everyone knows that,” John said. “You should have titles, glory, everything you deserve, but instead you choose to serve a mere baron when you, in fact should be a baron yourself.”
Marcus merely cocked an eyebrow. John continued. “I could grant you a baronetcy, Burton. You could have lands, a magnificent keep, and the most beautiful wife in the land. Everything you deserve and desire can be yours for doing me a simple favor.”
Marcus looked away, outwardly disinterested when, in fact, he knew John had the power to grant exactly what he promised.
If accepting a baronetcy from John would compromise his standing with Richard, then he would absolutely refuse.
Still, much to his regret, he found himself remotely interested.
As a powerful baron, he could control much in England and maintain the country for Richard’s return.
And there was truth to the feeling that he was somewhat jealous of Christopher for his new lands, wishing Richard had seen it fit to bestow the same glory on his head.
And why hadn’t he? Christopher was not a better man than he.
He had two years of service on Marcus, that was all, and although he was a better tactician, he was not a better soldier.
The resentment he pretended didn’t exist suddenly seeped through his veins, and for another reason as well; Lady Dustin.
John watched Marcus’ impassive face, knowing the man must at least be thinking on his offer. He would be a fool not to.
“Think on it, Burton,” John repeated, quieter. “I shall grant you your heart’s desire if you do one small, simple thing for me as being my champion.”
Marcus looked at him. “I must refuse again, sire. I want no part of you.”
Ralph and John glanced at each other and Ralph stood up, though keeping a safe distance from the huge man.
Something unspoken was passed in that glance, something that hinted of a darker purpose.
Marcus didn’t catch it, but Ralph knew what he had to do.
Information had come to them earlier that day, by way of a soldier’s comment and rumors that were too valuable to pass up.
Like any good tactician, Ralph would use it to gain their wants. He went for the throat.
“ ’Twould be a shame if Sir Christopher happened to find out that you kissed his wife,” he said casually. “I wonder what he would say?”
Marcus could not stop himself from reacting. His head snapped to Ralph and the cobalt blue eyes flamed. His first instinct was to kill them both outright, but he controlled himself so forcefully that his body began to shake.
“Who told you such outrageous lies?” he demanded in a low, hostile growl.
“Not lies, but fact, I am told,” Ralph said smugly. “Did you really think you were all alone with her in the common room at the inn? With twenty-five soldiers milling about, preparing to leave, wouldn’t it make sense that at least one of them would see you?”
Marcus knew he went pale. His stomach churned wildly and he fought off the overwhelming urge to react outwardly, when in fact he knew he could not. His life, mayhap Dustin’s life, depended on his control.
“I am also told you spent a good deal of time alone with her in her room,” Ralph went on. “Mayhap there was more than kissing going on? Should Lady Dustin bear a child some months from now, ’twill be interesting to see if the child has black hair or blond hair.”
Marcus could not breathe with his fury. “Such vicious lies should not be allowed to go unpunished,” he seethed. “To make it easy, I will kill every one of the soldiers that accompanied the lady and I to London. That should eliminate your spy.”
Ralph smiled. “They are Sir Christopher’s men and you will have to answer to him if you commit such a crime. What would you tell him was your reasoning?”
“To kill a liar and nothing more,” Marcus replied evenly, trying to regain control of his wits. “For that is the only true reason. You should execute your spy yourself for relaying such falsehoods. I have had enough of this conversation.”
He moved for the door and they let him. John called after him.
“Think on my offer, Burton,” he said. “Titles and lands shall be yours. And, if you happen to mortally wound de Lohr in the tournament, I will also grant you Lady Dustin.”
Marcus was out the door, slamming it behind him in his rage. John and Ralph looked at each other and chuckled wickedly.
“He will be yours, sire,” Ralph said confidently. “Did you see how he rigidly denied it? Of course it is true. He will not allow de Lohr to become privy to such damaging knowledge.”
John was quite pleased. “Are you sure the soldier is trustworthy?” he asked.
Ralph nodded. “Not just one, but two men saw him through the small window as they were guarding the door,” he replied. “It was worth five gold crowns apiece to learn that he practically raped her right in the front room.”
John grew thoughtful, thinking of Burton and his strong character.
“He will not admit it, though. We may have to divulge the information to select people to start a wildfire of rumors. Mayhap it would cause a great enough rift between de Lohr and Burton, enough to force the man to our side. Mayhap we do not have to blackmail him at all; let the rumors do the damage.”
Ralph agreed. “If you wish it, I am sure we could accomplish that very task tonight at supper.”
John liked the idea. “Make it so.”
“As you wish, sire,” Ralph replied, an evil gleam to his eye.
*
Marcus was out of control with anger. He plowed into David in the hall, nearly taking the man down as Christopher reached out a huge hand to ease him.
“Steady, man, steady,” he admonished, gripping Marcus’ arms. “What in the hell did they say to you?”
Marcus was so undone he could hardly think.
He looked up into Christopher’s blue eyes, the eyes of a man he loved dearly, and could not speak for a moment.
But he had to say something, anything, for he knew that one way or the other, Christopher was going to hear of his indiscretions with his wife.
He would rather explain now, albeit most likely a lie, than defend himself later.
He wanted to be upfront with Christopher even if he was not planning to be entirely honest. He could not seem to tell him the truth, for even though he didn’t bed Dustin, in his heart he already had a hundred times.
“He is attempting to force me to champion him,” he rasped after a moment, “any way he can do it.”
“What does that mean?” Christopher demanded, studying him closely.
Marcus prayed that God would forgive him for what he was about to say. “Apparently there were some spies traveling with us,” he said softly. “Soldiers who are willing to tell them anything for a price.”
Christopher’s expression never wavered. “What stories?”
Marcus took a deep, fortifying breath. “Somehow, Ralph uncovered a story about Lady Dustin and I in a compromising position. Ralph intends to use the story to blackmail me into championing John.” He gazed into Christopher’s eyes as he spoke.
“They were told that I ravaged your wife. They were also told that Lady Dustin and I spent a good deal of time alone together, in her room, which was true. But nothing ever happened, my lord, I swear it on all that is holy. I never touched your wife when we were alone in her room.”
Christopher let go of him, his eyes unreadable but his body tense. He stared back at Marcus a long, long time and Marcus was sure he was reading right through him. He fought off the urge to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness.
“That,” Christopher said after a long and pregnant silence, “is a lie.”
Marcus’ eyes widened at Christopher. He saw the man smile faintly and knew it would be the last thing he saw on this earth before gazing upon God’s holy face.
“My lord?” he choked.
Christopher lifted an eyebrow. “Dustin told me you sat on her legs to keep her in bed,” Christopher explained softly. “So you did touch her. You could have spanked her, too, if she needed it.”
Marcus closed his eyes, his fury and anxiety draining out of him and he slumped against the wall.
He was positive every bone in his body had deserted hm.
Christopher stood over him, knowing what a mind-wracking interrogation it must have been with John and Ralph, yet he had never seen Marcus so weakened. He was the strongest man he knew.
Marcus grappled with his emotions, turning his pale face up to his liege. “I thought you were going to run me through,” he murmured, which was the truth.