Chapter Thirty-Five #6
The more Dustin watched the commotion, the more apprehensive she became.
She was sure that Deborah and Gowen had done something desperate and she was terrified that Christopher’s wrath would be unmerciful.
He was issuing orders in a loud voice and frightening her with his intense manner, as if he were riding into a battle and not simply forming a search party.
Her indecision peaked and she knew, for Deborah’s sake, that she had to tell him about his sister.
It was not her right and she was aware of that, hoping that he would be merciful if he knew the reason why his sister and her lover were so determined to be together.
“Chris!” She suddenly bolted from the doorway and scampered down the steps. “Chris!”
Above all of the shouting, he heard her and reined his horse around. “Dustin, go back inside.”
“I must speak with you!” she yelled.
He shook his head as his horse danced beneath him. “Not now. Go back in the keep.”
The gates were open wide and the destriers dug into the earth and launched themselves into a full gallop. Christopher’s horse swung around with a great snort, tearing after the others.
Dustin stood there in the bailey, watching them race off with several men-at-arms. She kicked at the ground in frustration, wondering where indeed Deborah was and praying her husband would keep a level head.
He had said he was simply riding out to retrieve Deborah, and she believed him.
What concerned her is what he was going to do to Gowen.
She returned to the castle but her heart was heavy and she found herself pacing the long corridors, lost in thought.
She was genuinely terrified for Deborah and Gowen, for there was no telling how Christopher was going to react without Dustin to stop him.
He was as unpredictable as she was, yet he was blessed with far more common sense.
She only hoped he would utilize that gift and not do something rash.
In her wandering, she passed by her mother’s room.
The door was slightly ajar and she entered, her gaze sweeping the bedchamber.
Everything was the same as it had been when she passed away nearly a year ago and Dustin sat on the bed, trying to draw strength from her mother’s memory.
She went to her mother’s grave often and told her of events; in fact, her mother had been the first to know about the child she was expecting.
But it seemed as if the Dustin Barringdon from a year ago was a distant dream, so completely removed from the life she now led that she wondered if the girl had ever even truly existed.
Dustin certainly was not the same girl she had been a mere year ago.
She was a baroness, married to the Defender of the Realm, and with all of the prestige and honor that went with that station. That alone would have been enough for most women, but not for Dustin. She had the additional pleasure of actually loving her husband, and receiving his love in return.
Aye, she had grown up in this keep. She knew everything about it, as it was her home.
She knew the village and the surrounding area for miles.
She was so happy to be here, to have her husband home, and to await the birth of their son.
But just as her spirits were lifting, they came crashing down again with one thought; Gowen knew the area, too, if he and Deborah were truly hiding, then Christopher would never find them.
*
Dustin had been asleep for a short while.
She was startled awake by shouting coming from the bailey, and she rose stiffly to see what was happening.
She knew before she even looked that her husband must be returning and she was not surprised to see nine destriers pouring through the open gates.
But she was shocked to see a female figure seated in front of David, and another figure trussed up and thrown haphazardly over the back of another.
Deborah and Gowen had been found.
Dustin snatched a robe and wound it tightly about her, not even bothering to find her shoes before she was dashing downstairs.
She should have been furious that Gowen was being treated like a common criminal but she found she was more frightened than anything.
The stones were like ice beneath her feet as she charged to the front door and yanked it open.
A chill wind greeted her, sending shivers up her spine.
Yet the shivers were for another reason as she watched the horses come to a halt, their breath hanging heavy in the damp air.
Torches and soldiers were everywhere and for a moment, she lost sight of Gowen as they removed him from Leeton’s destrier.
Christopher dismounted his dancing steed and slugged the horse as it tried to bite at him, his action indicative of his mood.
He raised his visor and snapped orders to his knights even as David lifted Deborah from his destrier and half pulled her toward the castle.
Dustin could see, even from a distance, that Deborah was devastated.
“Get your hands off her!” she yelled, racing down the steps, jerking Deborah from David’s grip. “You will not manhandle your sister like a common wench.”
Deborah was sobbing softly and Dustin threw her arm around her protectively, glaring daggers at David.
He met her gaze steadily, almost as hostilely, and turned back to the other knights.
Christopher, several feet away, saw the exchange but had greater concerns on his mind at the moment. He yelled his brother to him.
Dustin took Deborah into the castle and slammed the great door closed. She did not speak nor ask questions as she led Deborah up to her smaller bedchamber. Once inside, however, she sat her sister-in-law down and demanded answers.
“What happened? Where were you?” Dustin asked sternly.
Deborah was positively white. “Oh, Dustin,” she sobbed. “You must stop him from killing Gowen. He won’t even listen to me.”
Dustin grabbed her wrists, forcing her to be still and calm down. “Answer me, Deborah. What happened?”
Deborah faced her sister-in-law, knowing she was the only friend she had in the whole world. “We….we were married this afternoon. The priests at the monastery performed the ceremony and granted us sanctuary. Christopher violated that sanctuary.”
Dustin’s heart sank and she dropped her head in sheer disbelief. “Dear Lord, no,” she whispered. “Tell me everything.”
“ ’Twas horrible,” Deborah cried. “After the meeting this afternoon, Gowen and I were positive Christopher would refuse our marriage and we felt we had no other choice, so we asked the priests at the monastery if they would marry us. Gowen’s father paid for the ceremony.
When Christopher came looking for me, the priests denied him entrance and told him why.
Oh, Dustin, he went mad; Leeton and Edward tried to stop him but he tore the door down with his bare hands and searched every room in the church.
One of the monks helped us escape through the kitchens, but David saw us and caught up to us.
Then they tied Gowen up and brought us back.
” She broke into heavy sobs. “Christopher has not said a word to me and I know he is going to kill Gowen.”
Dustin was pale. She let go of her sister-in-law’s hands and stood up, her beautiful face set.
“Nay, he will not,” she assured her. “I will go speak to him right now and find out what on earth possessed him to violate a church and handle you and Gowen as if you were outlaws. Did you tell him you were pregnant?”
Deborah shook her head, wiping at her eyes, and Dustin touched her damp head. She softened.
“Take off your shoes and relax,” she said quietly. “I shall send a servant up with warmed wine.”
“I cannot relax,” Deborah insisted. “I must find out what is happening to my Gowen.”
“I will find out,” Dustin said firmly. “I promise you that I will find out.”
She left Deborah a sobbing heap by the fire and returned to her bedchamber. Dressing in a heavy woolen dress, an equally heavy woolen scarf around her head, and thick hose, she proceeded back out into the bailey.
The soldiers were clearing the courtyard and the knights were going about their business. The first one she came across was Jeffrey.
“Jeffrey,” she called. “Where is my husband?”
He turned to her, his sharply angled face pinched from the cold. “In the abbey, my lady. But you should be inside where it is warm.”
She ignored him, steering for the doors that led to the abbey. Jeffrey caught up to her and cut her off.
“Let me take you inside, Lady Dustin,” he said in his thick accent. “The abbey is no place for you.”
“Why did you let him do this?” she demanded harshly. “You have known Gowen almost as long as you have known me. How could you let Christopher treat him like this?”
“I had no choice, you know that,” he said softly. “Gowen is a good boy, but he was very wrong in this case. Your husband will deal with him appropriately.”
“How can you call killing him appropriate?” Dustin argued loudly. “He and Deborah are in love; what is so wrong about them wanting to be together?”
“Who said he was going to kill him?” Jeffrey countered. “Punishment does not necessarily mean death, my lady. Now return to the castle; you should not be out here in the cold.”
“Do not tell me what to do,” she snapped, pulling away from him. “I am going to find Christopher.”
Jeffrey snatched her arm firmly. “That,” he said, “would not be wise. ’Tis best that you listen to me.”
Dustin shoved at him to dislodge his grip, beating him on the shoulder when that didn’t work. Furious, she shoved at his face and ended up smacking him in the nose. Blood trickled but he didn’t let go. He began to drag her towards the castle.
“Kessler!” came a voice so loud it echoed off the buildings. They stopped their struggles and turned to see Christopher standing in the doorway that led into the abbey. “Let her go. Dustin, come here.”
She dashed over to him, angry and frustrated. “Where is Gowen?”