Chapter Thirty-Five #4
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 replied. 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.