Chapter Thirteen #3
Christopher snatched Dustin from Marcus’ arms, setting her down roughly and she stumbled, falling back even as he reached out to steady her.
But his attention, his anger, was solely focused on Marcus.
Veins were bulging and his outrage had reached its limit.
It began to overflow, spilling out all over the place, and Christopher spoke before he could think about what he was truly saying.
“You are dismissed, Burton,” he growled.
Marcus’ eyebrows rose, off-guard. “I… what did you say?”
“You heard me,” Christopher snapped. “You are dismissed from my corp. I want you away from Windsor, and away from my wife. If I ever see you again, I will kill you.”
Marcus’ dander rose, fury to match Christopher’s. “For what? For God’s sake, Chris, I was just….”
Christopher cut him off. “You will address me as ‘my lord’ from now on,” he roared. “Get out of my sight, Burton, or so help me, I shall drop you where you stand.
Marcus’ expression turned deadly. “You may try, my lord,” he said in a low voice, “but I will defend myself wholly, for I have done nothing wrong.”
“You have done nothing but covet my wife and break God’s holy commandment,” Christopher seethed. “If the only way I can keep you away from her is to banish you from my sight and service, then so be it.”
Marcus was stunned. He stared back at the baron in complete disbelief, not wanting to believe his words. He finally shook his head slowly.
“You are mad,” he hissed. “Would you have preferred that I left her wandering the halls for John or Ralph to find?”
“Get out.” Christopher turned his back on his former friend and knight. He could not stomach the sight of him anymore. “I have nothing more to say to you.”
Dustin, having sat in shocked silence throughout the exchange, suddenly found her voice. “You are not being fair, Chris,” she said. “Marcus did nothing.”
“Nothing but lie to me, nothing but covet you,” he whirled around to Marcus again. “Is there anything else you have failed to mention? I never asked you if you bedded my wife back at the inn. Did you?”
“I told you he didn’t,” Dustin insisted.
“And I swore to you on the Holy Bible that I never touched your wife in that manner,” Marcus said. “I can do no more than that.”
“What you have done is driven an irreversible wedge in Richard’s loyalists,” Christopher said. “You always were a womanizer but I never believed that you would stoop so low as to pursue my own wife. ’Tis your own actions you must blame for this.”
“And what of you,” Marcus shot back, his massive body rigid. “How dare you speak of betrayal when you saw it fit to bed a serving wench after you had taken your vows with your wife. Mayhap you are ignoring your own guilt by focusing on me.”
Christopher’s eyes widened, cut down by the information, now used against him. It had been a weak moment that was coming back to haunt him. But he stood his ground. “I have no guilt,” he insisted, jaw ticking. “Dustin has forgiven me, which is of no concern to you.”
Marcus was still posturing furiously. “It is not my concern, but you stand here accusing me of a heinous crime when, in fact, ’twas a kiss I stole. I did not bed the woman.” He jabbed a finger at Christopher. “How dare you act the hypocrite!”
“You are jealous,” Christopher said as if the entire concept had just dawned on him. “You are jealous of me, of my titles and land, and of my wife. Aren’t you? So you intend to destroy what you cannot have.”
“Stop it!” Dustin shrieked. “Listen to what you are saying!”
They were ignoring her, their eyes spitting venom at each other. Finally, Marcus turned for the door. He was afraid of what would happen if he didn’t. Dustin, her hands on her mouth, took a few timid steps after him.
“Please, Marcus,” she pleaded softly. “He did not mean it.”
“Leave him alone, Dustin,” Christopher snapped, turning his back on Marcus. “He must go.”
She backed off, her eyes extending a thousand apologies to Marcus.
He gazed at her, his body riddled with pain and jealousy, wishing he could take her with him, but more concerned with the ending of his relationship with Christopher.
He simply could not believe what was happening. Shocked and furious, he quit the room.
When he was gone, Dustin turned her tear-streaked face to her husband. “How could you do that?” she demanded. “You had no reason!”
He didn’t answer her, leaning against the wall and staring out of the window into the night. His jaw was still ticking, beads of sweat on his forehead. He was angered and sickened, devastated and grieved. He was so much at the moment that he couldn’t single out one particular hurt. It was all hurt.
“Go to bed, Dustin,” he said finally.
Devastated, Dustin let her wrap fall to the floor and she wandered woodenly toward the bedchamber door. She paused a moment, trying to think of something to say, but no words would come. All she knew is that something horrible had happened this night, and she was responsible for it.
If there was any doubt that he hated her before, there was none now.