Chapter Thirty-Two
Christopher left shortly after the sun rose for the troop field.
Dustin slept until mid-morning, rising happy and full of spirit.
She took a quick bath with rosewater and dressed in a heavy surcoat of pale blue silk with the cross Christopher gave her being the only piece of jewelry she wore.
Her mood was light and gay and the maids kept passing her giddy glances as they went about their daily routines.
Deborah joined her later, excitedly telling her that she had heard rumor that a merchant from Venice was in the forecourt and suggesting they go down to see his wares. Having nothing else to do, Dustin agreed.
With the weather being so miserable outside, several merchants were moved into the lower foyer of Windsor. There was no mistaking the merchant from Venice, dozens of women were ogling over his wares and bolts and bolts of exquisite material were stacked in neat rows.
Deborah immediately delved into the material while Dustin sniffed at the vials of perfume.
Deborah eagerly asked Dustin’s opinion of several fabrics and colors, but Dustin would merely shrug, Deborah knew much more of fashion and taste than she.
While Deborah began to barter with the merchant, Dustin lost interest in the perfumes and turned her attention to the people who were filling the foyer and grand hall.
From the corner of her eye, she spied the Earl of Fenwark several feet away inspecting feminine goods.
Dustin watched the average-sized man pass an eye over the wares, wondering hopefully if Lady Gabrielle was with him.
But he seemed to be quite alone and Dustin found her courage to go and ask him of his wife; after all, Christopher never actually saw the earl beat his wife, so therefore he could only speculate about her bruises and the reason behind them.
Mayhap he was wrong. And since Dustin hadn’t talked to Lady Gabrielle since their first meeting, she could simply pretend she hadn’t seen the bruises on the countess.
Christopher would be angry she had disobeyed him, but she wanted to try and speak with the earl for the sake of Lady Gabrielle.
She walked right up to the earl and curtsied deeply. When she rose, she noticed his scrutinizing gaze on her.
“My lord earl,” she said. “I am Lady Dustin de Lohr; I believe you know my husband. I saw you had come to Windsor yesterday and wondered if your wife had accompanied you. She and I met at the tournament in October and I enjoyed her and the Lady Isobelle very much.”
The earl was impassive and rather cold. “She did not accompany me, Lady de Lohr, for good reason. My wife passed away after Christmas.”
Dustin was shocked. She took a step back from the earl, her hand going to her throat in an unconscious gesture. “Oh….my lord, please accept my condolences,” she stammered helplessly. “I am…I am speechless, sire, truly. Was she taken suddenly ill?”
His lip twitched in a most frightening manner, disturbing Dustin all the more. “Nay, my lady,” he said. “She fell down a flight of stairs and broke her neck. Now, if you will excuse me.”
He pushed past her as if she were a leper, leaving Dustin coming to grips with her dismay and sadness.
She watched him move toward the merchant from Venice, saying something to his aide and then laughing merrily with the man.
His callous attitude and stone-cold manner turned her heartache in to growing anger.
Deborah saw her sister-in-law’s face and quickly moved to intercept her before Dustin said or did anything rashly.
“Let’s go, Dustin,” she said steadily. “I have what I want.”
“Did you hear him?” Dustin seethed. “His wife is dead and he cares not a lick.”
“I heard him.” Deborah was growing nervous, she was not nearly strong enough to control Dustin if she went into a rage. “I am tired. Let’s go back to the apartments. Please?”
Dustin started to nod her head when she caught sight of Lady Isobelle several feet behind the earl. Without a word to Deborah, she pushed through the shoppers toward the fat woman.
“Lady Isobelle,” she curtsied quickly. “I am Lady Dustin de Lohr, I met you and Lady Gabrielle at….”
Lady Isobelle’s eyes fell on Dustin with alarm, then quickly banked. “Of course I know you, Lady Dustin,” she said quietly. “Please; you mustn’t….”
Dustin ignored the woman, bent on finding out more about her friend’s death. “What happened to Lady Gabrielle?” she asked. “Her husband said she fell down the stairs?”
Lady Isobelle’s cheeks flushed and she kept glancing nervously at her brother, who happened to be facing away with his back to her. She took out her handkerchief and fanned her face. “Aye, she fell,” she stammered. “There was… she was dead before she hit the floor.”
Dustin’s face went gentle with sympathy. “I am so sorry, Lady Isobelle. She was a very nice lady and I am sorry she is dead.”
Lady Isobelle nodded shortly and whirled away from Dustin, thrusting herself through the crowd blindly. It seemed to Dustin that she was desperate to get away from her. Puzzled and saddened, she turned with Deborah and retreated from the foyer.
The halls were busy with the inhabitants of Windsor, walking the halls because they were unable to go outside in the freezing rain.
There were soldiers lining the corridors, all of them acknowledging her in some way as she passed.
It was a very common occurrence since her husband commanded the troops and she was used to it now, but when it first started happening, she had been embarrassed at the attention.
There was a spread of bread, wine and cheese in the grand dining hall since it was close to the nooning meal. Dustin and Deborah gathered as much as they could carry and found a cozy window seat in a deserted corridor to share their meal.
“Do you think Marcus will return?” Deborah asked before Dustin had even taken a bite.
Dustin kept her gaze averted. “ ’Tis difficult to say. Chris says he cannot get through to him, whether he means literally, I do not know. Mayhap Marcus doesn’t want to come back.”
“But why?” Deborah lamented. “Did I say something to send him away? Was I too forward with my feelings?”
Dustin glanced up at her sister-in-law, sweet, faintly pretty, feminine. Marcus would have a good wife in Deborah. “I do not think you were at all. Mayhap….mayhap he wasn’t happy here, or mayhap he was overly desperate to see his new keep. I simply do not know, Deb….Chris doesn’t know, either.”
Deborah gazed out of the window, miserably chewing on a piece of cheese. “He doesn’t like me,” she said sadly, then looked at Dustin. “He likes you, though.”
Dustin knew her eyes were wide with surprise. “Why do you say that?”
Deborah shrugged, picking at her cheese.
“I have heard the gossip, Dustin. ’Tis hard not to.
I didn’t believe any of it until I began to see the way he looked at you.
” When Dustin shook her head vigorously, Deborah put up a placating hand.
“I know you do not return his feelings. Christopher has made himself blind to Marcus’ desire for you, probably because he respects the man so much.
I suppose as long as Marcus didn’t act on his feelings, Chris would feign ignorance.
David hates Marcus for the dissension he has caused within Christopher’s ranks. ”
Dustin’s eyes were guarded; she didn’t know what to say. Deborah smiled softly. “How can I blame him for loving you? You are so beautiful and you do not even know it. I wish I were more like you, Dustin.”
Dustin did speak, then. “You are mad. ’Tis I who am envious of you, Deborah.
You are refined and lady-like and elegant, everything I am not.
I could never be like you in a million years.
My daughters will have to learn to be a lady from you, because I certainly cannot teach them anything but how to ride a horse and how to tend a sick animal.
” She touched her sister-in-law’s hand gently.
“ ’Tis you who are beautiful and do not know it. ”
“Then I will trade you some of my beauty for some of yours,” Deborah quipped, and Dustin giggled in agreement.
They were finishing the last of the bread when they heard footsteps coming down the hall, rapid steps. They glanced up to see Lady Isobelle bearing down on them, her fat face worried. Dustin stood up.
“Lady Isobelle!” she greeted in surprise.
Lady Isobelle put up a hand. “I have no time, my lady. I have come to tell you a few things, items you must pass on to your husband.”
Dustin nodded quickly, stunned at the urgency of the woman. “Of course. What is it?”
Lady Isobelle glanced around anxiously as if to make sure they were alone, and Dustin and Deborah found themselves doing the same. Anxiety settled over them.
“Lady Gabrielle didn’t fall down the stairs; the prince fancied her so my brother gave her to him as a gift,” she whispered quickly. “Sweet Gabrielle is at the mercy of a madman. It is simply easier to tell everyone that she is dead so he will not have to tell the truth of what he has done.”
Dustin’s eyes widened and she gasped in horror, but Isobelle wasn’t finished. She grasped Dustin by the wrist.
“Know this; my brother has threatened to kill me if I so much as look at you,” she said quietly, urgently.
“He holds a great deal of hate for Richard and for your husband, my lady. But the most important news you must carry to your husband is this: I heard my brother speaking with other men, men loyal to John, and I heard him say that John is planning to lay siege to Tickhill before the week is out.”
Dustin was rather overwhelmed at all of the news. She swallowed hard, feeling herself being unwantedly sucked into covert political dealings. “I will tell him, Lady Isobelle, I swear it,” she said. “But why…why are you telling me this and betraying your brother?”