Chapter Fifty-Four #2
Dustin shook her head, wiping her eyes. “I did not tell anyone, but I am sure they know by now. And they are probably glad.”
“I doubt that,” Gabrielle still remembered how Christopher had looked at his wife, and how envious she had been. “I know your husband loved you, Dustin. He was very proud of you.”
“Proud of what?” she wept. “Proud of the fact that I drove him and his best friend apart, proud that because of me, he exiled his brother? Gabrielle, he’s better off without me. They all are. Mayhap things can be right again with all of them if I am not around.”
Christin crawled past and Gabrielle picked her up. “Dustin, how can you be so silly? Your leaving will not change anything.”
“Yes, it will,” Dustin insisted. “Don’t you see? I am the cause of everything. With me gone, they will stop hating each other and be friends again.”
Gabrielle shook her head, Christin’s fingers entwined in the rich brown tresses. “It is not that simple and you know it,” she scolded softly. “Where were you planning on going? Surely not here to Nottingham.”
“Home,” Dustin said vaguely. She did not want to tell her everything, lest she mention it to John. She hated to think that she did not trust Gabrielle, but she did not yet.
“Alone, pregnant, and carrying a child?” Gabrielle pointed out. “You are not thinking clearly, Dustin.”
“Of course I am not,” Dustin snapped, shooting out of the chair, agitated.
“My dead husband returns from the grave, my current husband challenges him to fight for the wifely prize, the king wishes he had never even heard of the name Dustin Barringdon, and half of the kingdom is being torn apart from within because of me. Tell me, Gabrielle… would you be thinking clearly?”
Gabrielle looked at her. “No,” she said quietly. “But at least you have men who love you. I am nothing more than a royal whore.”
Dustin stopped her raging and looked at Gabrielle. Lovely, gentle Gabrielle. Dustin’s problems were severe, but she was not the only one with problems. Her self-pity vanished and she threw her arms around Gabrielle.
They cried together for several long minutes, Christin pulling hair from both their heads. They found comfort in one another and strength, and Dustin began to see just how foolish she had been.
She was suddenly desperately concerned for Christopher, and for Marcus. She began to wish she had never left.
“What now?” she asked with a sniff.
“We become strong together,” Gabrielle said firmly. “With you here, I can face John and Ralph.”
“But I have got to return to Somerhill,” Dustin said. “I have got to see what has happened.”
“You cannot escape, Dustin, trust me,” Gabrielle said with resignation. “I have tried. There is no way out.”
“There is always a way,” Dustin said firmly. “You just have not found it yet. We shall find it together.”
Gabrielle nodded weakly, running her hand over Christin’s dark hair. “She has such dark hair. Marcus must be very proud.”
Dustin looked at her daughter a moment. “She is Christopher’s child, as is the babe I carry. Marcus and I did not have any children together.”
“But you and Lord Christopher are so fair,” Gabrielle insisted. “How did she come with this thatch of black?
“My mother had dark hair,” Dustin said, suddenly remembering her mother’s relations. This place, Nottingham, had been her home. She silently vowed not to mention the fact to Gabrielle.
Gabrielle smiled at Christin. “I envy you, Dustin. One babe and another on the way. I conceived my first month here with John, but he had a witch-woman give me bayberries to eat and I miscarried. It was the most awful…”
Her voice faded away and Dustin looked completely horrified. Of all the cruel and inhuman things to do… she was sickened for her gentle, lovely friend.
“With your husband gone, there will be ample opportunity for you to find another husband,” she assured Gabrielle timidly. “I will plead King Richard to select a handsome, kind husband for you.”
Gabrielle looked at Dustin with honesty. “Who would want me, Dustin? The prince’s whore? No self-respecting man would accept me.”
“You are not to blame to your situation,” Dustin replied firmly. “You mustn’t give up hope.”
Gabrielle shrugged and turned away, her composure shattered. Dustin set Christin on the bed, not knowing what else to say. After a moment, Gabrielle turned around with renewed courage.
“You must be starved,” she said briskly. “I shall have the servants bring you a meal. And a bath, too. Do you have any clothes to change into?”
“Nay,” Dustin said. “I did not pack much, just necessary items for Christin and myself.”
Gabrielle nodded sharply. “There is a fine seamstress here. I shall put her to work on a few surcoats for you. Mayhap she can finish one this afternoon.”
Dustin never could get excited about clothes. She simply nodded as her friend prattled on, acting as if she had some control of the situation. Even Dustin could see that it was all a brave front, a facade for a woman with no true place in the world.
Dustin bathed later that day as Gabrielle took care of Christin, relieved to have a bit of time to herself.
Gabrielle had brought her a flowing robe of pale blue and Dustin wrapped herself in it as her hair dried, watching her daughter and Gabrielle play as she listened to the sounds of the massive bailey floating in through the lancet window.
To hear the sounds reminded her of Lioncross and Somerhill, and the stab to her heart deepened. She shook her head faintly at her own stupidity and recklessness, yet there was naught to do about it now. She was in a dark situation and knew she must rely on her wits to help her escape.
For once in her life, she could depend on no one but herself for protection.