Chapter Fifty-Four
Clutching Christin, Dustin was hustled from the huge bailey of Nottingham and ushered into the cool interior of the keep. The castle was larger and darker than anything she had ever seen, short of Windsor, and the cold fear she felt consumed her and the open doors swallowed her up.
The same soldier who had found her continued to be her shadow, never letting her stray more than an arm’s length. Rather than feeling protective, he was pleased with his capture and wanted John to know exactly how loyal he was to the prince. He hoped for a promotion at the very least.
Soldiers, people, were everywhere as Dustin was rushed down corridors and up a flight of stairs.
She was extremely tired and nauseous and struggled to keep herself in check.
She mustn’t lose control, for she had no idea what would become of her daughter should she lose consciousness, and her fierce desire to protect Christin overrode her own illness.
John and Ralph had no idea what gift was to be deposited in their laps. They were together, as was usual, in John’s great audience hall when the doors flew open and soldiers filled the doorway.
“What is the meaning of this?” Ralph screamed at his soldiers, cuffing the first man he came to. “Since when do you come barging in unannounced?”
“Forgive, my lord sheriff,” a soldier said respectfully. “But we have brought you a prize.”
“Prize? What goddamn prize…?” Ralph’s eyes fell on Dustin in the center of the mailed men. His eyes nearly bugged from his skull and he pointed a helpless finger at her. “You? It is you!”
Dustin was on the verge of tears but she met his gaze without a word.
Ralph stumbled and pushed through the soldiers until he reached her.
He could scarce believe what his eyes were telling him, but believe he did.
As if to make sure he was not dreaming, he reached out and fingered the material of her cloak.
“Where on God’s earth did you find her?” John’s eyes were dancing with surprise and glee.
“Riding to the north, through Sherwood,” the soldier that had found her replied. “She was quite alone, my lord.”
“Alone?” Both John and Ralph looked at her with shock. “Why were you alone, Lady Dustin?” John asked.
His voice was kind but she knew what he was capable of. “I…I was going home, to Lioncross.”
“But where was your husband? Oh, excuse me, husbands,” Ralph deliberately drew the word out.
Dustin flushed, tired and angry and scared. “Dead, I suppose. When I last saw them, they were dueling to the death.” Her chin came up bravely. “It no longer matters, sire. But what matters is that I would like to continue my journey. Will you allow me to pass?”
John looked taken aback by her question. “Certainly not,” he said. “A lovely lady such as yourself will ride nowhere unescorted, and especially not before you have had time to rest and enjoy the hospitality of Nottingham.”
Dustin eyed him warily. “Then I am not a prisoner?”
John shook his head and took her arm. “Absolutely not, my lady. You are an honored guest.”
Christin, underneath the cloak, let out a squeal and Dustin pulled the heavy cloth back.
A little head covered with curly dark hair popped up, the gray eyes focusing on John.
The prince was deeply shocked. The child was the image of her mother and he swore he could see Christopher’s features, but the black hair was surprising.
He had not heard that Lady Dustin had bore the Defender a child.
“Another de Lohr, I presume?” he asked.
“Aye,” Dustin shifted Christin’s weight and patted her rounded belly. “And another.”
John was stunned. It was almost too good to ask for, too unbelievable to imagine. The Defender’s expectant wife and child right in his very own lap. And with Richard preparing to take back the holdings John had confiscated, the luck was beyond believing.
He relaxed, a benevolent smile crossing his face. It would seem that God and fortune was to be on his side.
“Come, my lady,” he pulled her along. “You must be exhausted.”
*
Later, after Dustin and Christin were safely tucked away, Ralph met John on his usual walk around the compound. The gray-stoned castle cast long shadows in the early afternoon as the men converged in the inner bailey.
“Well?” Ralph asked his liege.
“Well what?” John answered.
Ralph sighed impatiently. “Lady de Lohr, sire. What are you planning for her?”
John picked at his teeth. “Nothing, for the moment. I have already prepared a missive to London informing my brother of our ‘guest’. The rest will be up to him and up to de Lohr, whether or not I am allowed to keep my holdings and whether or not Lady Dustin and the children live.”
“You would kill them?” Ralph asked.
John shrugged. “Mayhap not. Lady Dustin would make a fine concubine, don’t you think? But I have no use for children, especially de Lohr’s children. Mayhap I would sell them off.”
Ralph raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. Sell them to Marcus Burton.”
They both giggled. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see de Lohr and Burton battling to the death. I’d place my money on de Lohr, of course, although Burton is nothing to trifle with,” John said.
Ralph agreed. “Richard has one more problem on his hands with his two best knights fighting over a woman,” he said. “Do you suppose he himself started the rumor of de Lohr’s death to throw us off the track?”
“No,” John snapped. “You forget, Ralph, that la Londe saw de Lohr go down. ’Twas no rumor, although I am most curious to know how he survived.”
“The man has God on his side, most assuredly,” Ralph commented. “Three years in Jerusalem could not kill him.”
John stopped at a small vendor’s shack, inspecting the copper bracelets. “This would look lovely on Gabrielle, do not you think? And Dustin, too.”
“Do you plan on sharing Dustin with la Londe and my Uncle Bruce as you have Gabrielle?” Ralph asked, a bit snidely.
John took the bracelets that pleased him and did not bother to pay for them.
“I will not,” he said frankly. “La Londe was most insistent about Gabrielle, but he will not touch Dustin. At least, not until I have had my fill of her. And I doubt her grandfather will want that sort of relationship with his own granddaughter, although I would not be terribly surprised to be wrong.”
Ralph gave a crooked smile. “My lord, you have the most beautiful harem in all of England.”
John grinned lewdly. “I have never bedded a pregnant woman before. I wonder what it will be like?”
Ralph shrugged carelessly. “Start a new fad, my lord. Make it the rage of the palace.”
John snickered, “Bedding pregnant woman? It could prove to be messy.”
They smiled, snickered, and continued on their walk, feeling more light-hearted than they had in months.
*
Dustin awoke from a deep sleep to a soft, female voice in her bedchamber.
She opened her eyes slowly, looking around and suddenly remembering where she was.
She lay in the middle of an opulent bed, surrounded by finery on the top floor of Nottingham Castle.
The voice that she heard was coming from the opposite side of the room.
Slowly, she sat up and focused on the source.
Lady Gabrielle de Havilland sat on the floor with Christin, playing with the babe.
Christin was cooing and standing up with assistance, trying to take off walking, much to Gabrielle’s delight.
Dustin propped herself up on one elbow, watching the two of them and pleased to see her old acquaintance.
She looked as lovely as she always had, in spite of the life she had been forced to lead.
“Greetings,” she said softly.
Gabrielle’s head snapped up. “I am sorry, my lady. I did not mean to wake you.”
Dustin shook her head. “That’s all right,” she smiled. “Christin needs to be fed soon. ’Tis good to see you again; have you been well?”
Gabrielle lowered her gaze, focusing on the babe. “Well as can be expected, my lady. How have you fared since we last met?”
Dustin rolled out of the bed. “Well, I suppose, in spite of everything. And do not call me ‘my lady.’ Please call me ‘Dustin.’”
“And you will call me Gabrielle,” her friend responded with a smile. “Truly, Dustin, there is so much that has happened and so much that should be said. I do not know where to begin.”
Dustin rubbed her belly. “You heard of your husband’s death?”
“Aye,” Gabrielle said without emotion. “I was told it was your husband who killed him.”
Dustin eyed her apprehensively as she sank into a chair. “He did, but only after the earl killed Lady Isobelle and threatened my life as well. I am sorry, Gabrielle.”
“Why?” Gabrielle asked seriously. “He was an evil, vile man and I am glad he is dead. I do not have to worry if he’s going to beat me, or starve me, or lock me in a room to rot. Your husband did me a great favor, Dustin.”
Dustin swallowed, looking at her hands. Gabrielle glanced at her friend as she rolled a little ball to Christin.
“How did you come here?” she finally asked.
Dustin’s eyes came up, filling with tears. She struggled with herself for a moment. “Oh, Gabrielle, everything is so awful.”
“Tell me,” Gabrielle insisted gently.
Dustin sniffled, trying to find a starting point for her horrible story.
“I suppose it started when I first met Chris,” she said.
“I drove his men apart until they hated each other. After I was told Chris was dead, I married Marcus Burton because it seemed the right thing to do, but then Chris returned and he and Marcus had a battle to the death.”
Christin had crawled off. Gabrielle stood up, making sure Christin wasn’t anywhere near the hearth, and went to her friend. “There, now, Dustin,” she said soothing, patting her on the arm. “Who won?”
“I do not know,” Dustin sobbed. “I left before it was over. Gabrielle, I have caused all of this strife and anger. I had to leave. If I am gone, there will no longer be a reason for them to hate each other.”
Gabrielle felt for her friend. “Then they do not know you have gone?”