Chapter Forty-One #3
“Riders are coming, someone I think you might like to see,” he said. Then, he paused. “David is coming.”
She stopped hoeing. Her head came up and she fixed him with her dull gray eyes. “David? Here?”
He nodded and smiled timidly. “Are you pleased?”
She blinked at him, mulling over the question. Was she pleased? Of course not. Nothing pleased her anymore. There was no pleasure in life. She hated everyone and everything, hated them for taking away her beloved. Her head went down and she started chopping at the ground again.
“Nay,” she muttered. “Tell him to go away. He is not welcome here.”
Edward’s smile faded. “He brings the king with him, Dustin. Richard is here as well.”
She stopped again and her head shot up. “Richard is here?” She raised the hoe and her eyes flashed like lightning in a storm. “He is most certainly not welcome here. Tell him to go away or I shall take this hoe to him.”
“This is Christopher’s home and Richard is most welcome,” Edward replied steadily. “You, as dutiful Lady de Lohr, will welcome the returned monarch. Go upstairs and change.”
“Nay!” Dustin shouted. “I do not want him here; I do not want either one of them here. I hate them both. Tell them to go away, Edward, or I shall strike them down where they stand.”
“Why?” Edward asked softly.
“Why?” Dustin shrieked. “Because Chr…., my husband, is dead because of Richard, and David is not welcome in our home. That is why.”
She could not even bring herself to say Christopher’s name and Edward could feel her pain.
She hadn’t really spoken of her feelings in all this time and now he was coming to understand something; she blamed Richard, she blamed John; she blamed everyone.
His heart was very sad for her with so much agony and no way to ease it.
“Nonetheless, they are here, and I will not turn them out before they are fed and rested,” Edward said quietly. “If you cannot behave yourself, I will lock you in the abbey until they have left.”
She threw the hoe to the ground and glared at him. “This is my home, Edward. Not yours.”
He tried not to become angry with her. “Like it or not, you have a great station in this life. You have certain duties you may not shirk for any reason, Dustin. Christopher would take you over his knee if he heard you right now and well you know it.” He took a step toward her sternly.
“Now go upstairs and bathe and put on a clean dress. I shall not have you meeting our king looking like a madwoman.”
Dustin’s jaw worked as she slowly reached down to pick up the hoe, he could see that her palms were blistered and bloodied. “Go to hell, Edward.”
She resumed her hoeing without another word and he turned with frustration for the house.
By the time he reached the bailey, the gates were open and the army was filing in. However, he noticed immediately that it was not the king or David. The colors were and black and gold, and he realized with shock who had come.
Marcus Burton rode into the bailey on a pure white steed, looking taller and prouder and stronger than Edward had ever seen him.
The other knights turned out, eyeing him and his knights warily as they came to a halt in the center of the bailey.
Jeffrey, sensing the tension, ordered the baron’s army to remain outside the wall.
Marcus and six knights remained on horseback as the gate closed again.
Edward was truly surprised. As he approached Marcus, the man tore off his helmet and his cobalt-blue eyes locked onto Edward’s gold ones.
“Edward,” he said in his smooth voice. “ ’Tis good to see you again.”
“And you, baron,” Edward replied steadily. “To what do we owe the honor?”
He knew why Marcus was here; they all knew. It was a foolish question.
“I heard of Chris’ passing and I came to express my sorrow to Lady de Lohr,” Marcus replied, somewhat subdued. “How is she faring?”
“Terribly,” Edward said honestly. “She borders on madness, Marcus. You have never seen anything like it.”
Marcus let his gaze wander over Lioncross. “May I see her, please?”
“That may not be wise,” Edward said. “She does not want to see anyone.”
Marcus leveled his gaze on Edward. “I would see her, Edward. I have ridden over a week to see her, and I will not leave before I have had a chance to speak with her.”
Edward knew where this had been leading all along. From the look of determination on Marcus’ face, he knew exactly what his presence meant. Pleasantries were gone and now they were at the meat of the situation.
“You have come here to take her,” he stated softly. “Haven’t you?”
Marcus’ jaw flexed and he lowered his gaze, fumbling with his reins. “I have simply come to see Dustin.”
Edward took two long strides and was upon him, gazing up at Marcus’ guarded expression.
“Do not lie to me,” he hissed. “You heard Chris was dead and you could not wait to claim his widow.”
Marcus’ eyes were like ice. “You make it sound heartless, de Wolfe,” he said. “I would offer her stability, protection, anything she desires.”
“She has a child, you know,” Edward said. “She bore Chris a daughter in September. It would be an instant family, Burton. There is no longer simply Dustin to think of anymore.”
“And I would love the child as my own,” Marcus replied without missing a beat. “It makes no difference to me.”
“Stop thinking of yourself, Marcus,” Edward said heatedly. “Consider her feelings for a moment. She just lost her husband; do you truly think she wants another so soon? Give her time to heal, for God’s sake.”
Marcus’ jaw began to tick again and he swung his leg over the destrier, dismounting in a jingle of armor; it was the latest and most expensive armor Edward had seen. He approached Edward until he was an inch from his face and lowered his voice so that only Edward would hear him.
“I love her, Edward. I have always loved her, more than anything,” he muttered. “I have crossed the whole of England to see her and I am not leaving until I do. You can announce me or I can find her myself; the choice is yours.”
Edward met his gaze with eyes as hard as stone. “ ’Tis no choice, Burton,” he growled. “You have given me an ultimatum and I do not take kindly to them.”
“Then raise your sword and make your attempt to stop me,” Marcus said, glancing sidelong at the other knights. “I can take on all of you, even the de Velt twins. ’Tis only David that concerns me.”
“David is not here,” Edward replied. “He left Lioncross around Christmastime.”
Marcus’ face rippled with surprise but he caught himself. “All the better for me, then. Will you show me to Dustin or must I find her myself?”
Edward eyed him harshly for a moment. “She is not as you remember her, Burton. Chris’ death has changed her a great deal.”
“She is still Dustin,” Marcus replied evenly. “I shall always love her as such.”
Edward glared at him a moment longer before turning on his heel. “Kessler, offer the baron’s men refreshment,” he told him. “We shall return shortly.”
Edward took Marcus through the great hall of Lioncross and Marcus appraised the place, comparing it to his own keep, but his mind was focused on Dustin.
He was so damned excited to see her that his stomach was taut with nerves.
As they passed into the kitchens, a tall young man with a thin mustache met them and smiled inquisitively at Marcus. Edward stopped abruptly.
“Marcus Burton, this is Gowen Olmquist, Deborah’s husband and Lioncross’ steward,” he said shortly.
Marcus and Gowen barely had time to exchange pleasantries before Edward was forging onward, taking Marcus out into the small kitchen bailey and pointing to the iron-worked gate that led into the garden.
“She’s in her garden,” he said with restrained anger. “I shall leave you to talk to her alone, but be aware that I will be within earshot. Bank yourself, Marcus; her mind is very brittle, as is her manner. Be shocked with nothing she says or does.”
He turned sharply and marched away, leaving Marcus a moment to compose himself before seeing Dustin for the first time in a year. The anticipation was nearly too much to bear as he opened the garden gate.
Even though Edward had warned him, he was still shocked at the sight of her. She looked like a prisoner, dressed in rags and hoeing the ground furiously. Her luscious hair hung in dirty clumps and she was far thinner than he had remembered. Disheartened, Marcus swallowed hard as he stepped forward.
“Dustin?” he said softly.
She hoed a split second longer before stopping. Slowly, her head came up and Marcus was distressed to see her gaunt, pale face. Still incredibly beautiful, but so terribly haunting. He smiled and her eyes widened.
“Hello, honey,” he said. “It has been a long time.”
The hoe fell out of her hand and she straightened, brushing her ratty hair from her face. “Marcus?”
He nodded, taking a few timid steps forward. Dustin took a step backward and he stopped.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in awe.
“To see you, to see how you are,” he replied. “I came to tell you how sorry I am about Chris.”
She shook her head faintly. “You ran away,” she said softly. “He was so worried about you. He went off to fight John and he was angry because you did not fight with him.”
Marcus’ smile faded. “I had to leave, Dustin. I….something happened unexpectedly and I had to leave.”
“You mean you made love to me and fled in guilt,” Dustin said, remarkably clear-minded. “Aye, Marcus, I know what happened that night. I thought I had dreamed it, but I knew soon enough that I hadn’t. ’Twas good that you left.”
He lowered his gaze. “ ’Twas never my intention to take you, Dustin,” he said, reliving that night so long ago.
He had lived on the memory for over a year.
“I went into your bedchamber that night to talk to you and in your sleep, you thought I was Christopher. I could have stopped it from happening, but I did not want to. I have always loved you, Dustin. You know that.”