The de Lohr Dynasty Page 4
“Dustin, I believe you have met Sir Christopher de Lohr. He served with your father and our king, Richard, in the Holy Land,” she said softly. “As you suspected, my dear girl, the message he bore concerned your father’s demise this past summer.”
Dustin’s eyes welled but she fought it. She did not want to cry with this knight staring at her.
“Oh, Mother,” she sighed. “I am so very sorry.”
Mary nodded, wiping her eyes again. “As am I,” she replied quietly. “ ’Twill not be the same, knowing he will never return.”
Christopher watched the two women in their grief. He was sorry for his friend’s death, too, but it had been a long time ago. Furthermore, he had only delivered half of his message and he wasn’t sure it would be such a good idea for Dustin to be in the room when he delivered the remainder. Yet it was of no consequence what the girl felt; she would do as she was ordered, just as he was.
He revealed the second missive and approached Lady Mary. “My lady, there is more from our king,” he said as gently as he could. As shocking as the first missive would be, this one would be explosive. “This message is also from Richard.”
Trying to maintain her composure, Mary graciously took the parchment and broke the seal. Christopher stood back, discreetly looking away as she read the contents. From what he had seen of Lady Mary, she was far more in control of her emotions than her daughter and he honestly expected no outbursts.
When Lady Mary finished, she calmly lay the vellum in her lap and stared at it for several long moments. Dustin watched her mother curiously until she could stand the silence no longer.
“What does the king say, Mother?” she asked.
Lady Mary lifted her eyes to her daughter. Christopher did turn and looked at the older woman, then, to see how she was about to handle this delicate subject with her unruly child. Mayhap it would give him insight as to how to handle her once she became his wife.
Mary was surprisingly firm. “It seems your father had a final wish upon his deathbed, Dustin, and that was that you would be married to a man of his choosing.”
Dustin stood up, her face suspicious. “Who?” she demanded. “We have been through this subject before. I do not wish to be married at all.”
Lady Mary nodded patiently. “I know, dear, but what you want is of no concern to your father or the king,” she said frankly. “Your father must do as he sees fit for you and for the future of Lioncross. You will, therefore, be married and your husband will become lord of Lioncross.”
Dustin’s lovely face darkened. She glared back at her mother a moment before finally averting her gaze.
“Has he selected someone?” she asked reluctantly, hoping beyond hope he had died before it was possible, failing to take into account that the king would have therefore made the choice in his stead.
“He has,” Mary replied steadily.
Dustin’s head snapped up, her jaw ticking. Hopefully the man was in the Holy Land with the king and it would be years before he returned. Mayhap by then she would be ready for marriage and duty.
Yet she also knew that it was useless to protest anything, her mother had been preparing her for this eventuality ever since her father left. She knew this time would eventually come, as distasteful as the idea was to her.
That was why her mother allowed young men to call on her, young men who came and were as quickly chased off by her quick temper and hard right-cross. Mary hoped that at least one young man would catch Dustin’s eye, but alas, that had not happened.
“Who? Do I know him?” she asked after a moment.
Lady Mary turned to look at Christopher. Feeling himself the focus of attention, he straightened, looking from Lady Mary to her daughter as Dustin’s gaze fixed on him. It was clear they were all expecting an answer. He actually felt a little nervous.
“You have met him, my lady,” he cleared his throat.
She frowned at him. “Then who is it? And why am I asking you this question? Did Richard ask you to inform me?”
“Indirectly,” Christopher admitted.
“Then who?” Dustin demanded in frustration.
Christopher slowly cocked a blond eyebrow. “Me.”
It took a moment for the revelation to dawn on Dustin. At first she wasn’t sure she heard correctly, mulling his words over and over. Then, as realization set in and she understood that her father, as well as the king, expected her to marry this massive, cold man, her mouth fell open.
“You?” she repeated. “I am to marry you?”
“Aye,” he nodded.
She clamped her pretty mouth shut into a hard line. Lord only knew, she knew her duty well. It had been drilled into her ever since she had been old enough to understand that it was her duty to carry on the Barringdon line. And she was now looking at the man she would marry and breed with.
Dustin’s first reaction was to scream and rant, but she knew it would be a waste of energy. Mayhap it would simply be easier all the way around if she gave in to the idea and came to grips with it. The best she could hope for was a quick marriage and then he would go and leave her in peace. Did he really plan to live here, with her? Lord, she knew nothing about the man. What if he intended to force her into a real marriage?
“We will be married immediately,” he said decisively. “Today, if possible. Lady Mary, do you have a priest?”
Both Lady Mary and Dustin looked surprised. Jeffrey was positively red. Christopher ignored the soldier, focusing on the older woman and expecting an answer.
“Yes, my lord, we do,” Lady Mary replied softly. “Father Jonah.”
Christopher looked at Jeffrey then. “Fetch him. Now.”
Jeffrey nearly burst a vein but obeyed silently. Christopher watched the man’s stiff back, wondering if he were going to have to watch his own until he could kick the man out of the keep. Jeffrey did not like him; that was apparent.
Dustin stared at the knight. Her initial impressions of him had been those of indifferent arrogance. When he looked at her, she saw nothing but ice in those blue eyes and it frightened and angered her at the same time. Yet she knew one thing, she didn’t want him and he didn’t want her.
Christopher gathered his helmet and gauntlets. “If you ladies will excuse me, I have duties to attend to,” he said politely. “I shall return shortly.”
Dustin looked away from him as he strode past her and quit the room. As soon as he was clear of the door she whirled to her mother.
“I do not want to marry him,” she snapped.
Mary knew this exchange was coming and was prepared. “I know, dear, but as I said, you have no choice. Your father selected the man he felt most capable to provide you your future.”
“He is a stranger,” Dustin said, snappish and frightened. “You have seen him look at me; he does not want me, either. I do not want anything to do with him!”
Mary opened her mouth when there was a sudden shadow cast into the room from the open doorway. Dustin turned to see Christopher looming in the arch.
His sky-blue eyes were riveted to her and she could feel the coldness. She stared back, wondering why he was looking at her like that.
“You may say whatever you wish about me, Lady Dustin,” he said calmly. “But you will not speak to your mother in that manner ever again in my presence.”
She stiffened. “It wasn’t in your presence. You were out of the room,” she pointed out. “And I will speak to my mother however I wish.”
He stepped into the room and she fought the urge to step away from him. She wondered crazily if he were going to strike her. But, amazingly, he looked entirely calm.
“Before this day is finished, you will be my wife in the eyes of God and country,” he said. “Even as we stand now, you are for all intent and purposes my wife. Therefore, you will obey me, as it is a wife’s duty to obey her husband. I say you will speak to your mother respectfully at all times and you will comply. Am I making myself clear?”
Dustin was so angry she was shaking. B
ut she met his gaze, clenching her fists until her nails bit into her palms.
“Perfectly, my lord,” was all she could manage to squeeze out.
He nodded shortly, moving once again for the door and leaving the room without another word.
Dustin stared at the empty doorway, outraged and shaken. They were not even officially married yet and already he was giving her orders. She looked at her mother but dared not speak to her, afraid he was lingering in the hallway waiting for her to disobey him.
How could her father have selected this man for her husband? Her father loved her. How in the world could he have sentenced his only child to a life of misery with a man who was such a cold bastard? She shook her head, disoriented with the contents of the entire day. It was all too unbelievable.
“Dustin, dear, mayhap you should go and freshen up a bit before the priest arrives,” her mother said softly.
Dustin looked hard at her mother. “And you will just accept this?” she demanded softly.
Mary rose wearily. “There is nothing to reject or accept, Dustin. ’Tis simply the way of things.” Her daughter turned away in disgust and Mary sighed. “Think of the positive, dear. Sir Christopher is as fine and tall and strong a man as I have ever seen, and I am sure he will protect Lioncross admirably. The fortress will be in capable hands.”
“But what about me?” Dustin whispered, appalled that she was on the verge of angry tears. “What will happen to me?”
Mary put her thin hands on Dustin’s shoulders. “Pray treat him well, daughter. Ye shall reap as ye sow.”
Dustin rolled her eyes and turned to face her mother. “I do not want to marry anyone. I am only nineteen and I.…”
Mary shook her head, “You should have been married two years ago. You know that as well as I.” She dropped her hands from her daughter’s shoulders. “Now, I am exceedingly weary and wish to rest a bit before attending your wedding.”
Dustin gazed at her delicate mother, her heart once again aching for the loss of her father. She could only imagine the pain her mother was feeling. She had loved him so. For the moment, she forgot her own torment. Her mother was right; there was nothing she could do and the sooner she accepted that, the better. But she still could not swallow the thought of being married to that monstrous man.
“I shall come with you, Mother,” she said softly.
There was nothing more to say.
*
Outside in the bailey, Edward and David had everything under control. Edward, his dark hair plastered with perspiration, approached Christopher as the man emerged from the keep.
“Well? How did it go?” he demanded with restrained humor.
Christopher looked at his friend and flashed a brief look of distaste. “I am marrying the lady as soon as the priest arrives.”
Edward grinned, deep dimples in each cheek. “Congratulations, old man. And do not look so displeased. She is quite lovely.”
Christopher shook his head, not wanting to discuss Lady Dustin further. His mind was already racing ahead, thinking on his return trip to London.
“When we return to London, I wish to leave my own men in charge. I do not trust nor do I like their Germanic captain. I would establish Lioncross as my own from the start.”
“Agreed,” Edward nodded, but did not volunteer to stay behind.
Christopher eyed him. “One of my own knights, I said.”
Edward avoided his gaze. “Understood, my lord. But I wish to accompany you to London. Leave David here.”
“David will wish to accompany me as well,” Christopher reminded him. “And he is my brother.”
Edward let out a heavy sigh and shrugged. “Aye, my lord,” he answered grudgingly. “I will stay.”
Christopher slapped a heavy hand on Edward’s shoulder. “I knew you would see things my way.”
Edward nodded in resignation as he followed Christopher across the compound. Christopher studied every inch of his keep critically, seeing things he had not seen in his first sweep. There were sections of the battlements that were missing stone and in spots there were great holes in the bailey. Everything needed to be smoothed out and resurfaced, and the keep needed work. Still, it was worth it. The prize was still mighty.
They met up with David near the squat and sturdy gatehouse, discussing everything from the upcoming wedding to Prince John in London. Christopher knew Edward was terribly disappointed that he would not be able to accompany him to London, but Christopher truly needed his trusted man here. When Edward was called away by one of the men-at-arms, David faced his brother.
“You could use him, Chris,” he said softly. “Lioncross will do well with your men-at-arms establishing themselves here. Your presence will be known to all.
“I need no one with me in London, even you,” Christopher replied. “Richard asked this task of me and me alone.”
“What Richard asked was for you to keep an eye on his brother and report back to him,” David hissed. “For all purposes, Christopher, you are a spy, a royal plant. Should John discover this, he will execute you as an enemy of the crown.”
Christopher snorted. “He cannot. He has not the authority.”
“You saw how he has established himself in London,” David persisted, at a loss to understand his brother’s attitude. “He has done everything but declare himself king. He rules England, not Richard.”
Christopher’s eyes flashed at his brother. “Richard is our king,” he said slowly. “Whatever I do in London, I do it for our sovereign lord. John has no power over me. My orders come directly from Richard.”
David shook his head faintly, not knowing what else to say. “As you say, Lion’s Claw. I can only hope that you are not the one to be gored.”
Christopher looked at his brother a long moment. Then he smiled. “You worry like an old woman, little brother.”
David shrugged. “I do not know why I even bother. You always do what you want to, anyway.”
Christopher’s jocularity faded. “Not in this case,” he glanced at Lioncross. “To obtain this mighty fortress, I must do something I most definitely do not want to do.”
“Marry Lady Dustin?” David smiled. “Why not, Chris? Jesus Christ, she’s beautiful. Big tits, too.”
Christopher cocked an eyebrow. “Does she? I didn’t notice. In fact, I can’t seem to get past all that hair. She’s got enough hair for three women.”
David nodded seductively. “Think about it, Chris, all of that hair flowing over you as she mounts you.”
Christopher waved his brother off. “I get the picture. She’s so damn small that I will probably tear her asunder. Not the most auspicious way to begin a marriage.”
David laughed heartily and Christopher joined him for a few moments, chuckling at Dustin’s expense.
“On second thought, Chris, maybe I will stay here,” David snickered. “ ’Twill be a pleasure to watch after my brother’s wife, the poor lonely woman.”
Christopher’s amusement vanished. “You will not touch her. Is that clear?”
David was taken aback by the tone and by the deadly flicker in his brother’s eye. He was suddenly very curious about the sudden burst of husbandly protectiveness. The only person Christopher was passionate about was Richard, and himself. Strange that his new bride would provoke that kind of a response.
“Aye, verily,” he said. “It was only a jest.”
Christopher was embarrassed for his outburst and looked away, wondering why in the hell he had done that. He was a reasonable man and deduced that he was naturally protective of Lady Dustin for obvious reasons. Firstly, she was his chattel. Secondly, she was a weaker female and fell under the category of knightly chivalry. Any other reason disturbed him too much.
“You could always take her to London with you and keep an eye on her yourself,” David suggested, goading his brother to see what other responses he could get. “John would go mad for such a lovely woman.”
Christopher shook his head. “I’d spend all of my ti
me fighting the prince off her,” he said, but in faith, did not think the suggestion to be a bad one. After all, he could keep an eye on her and get to know her better. There was no knowing how long he would be staying in London, and if he left Dustin here, he would be just as much a stranger upon his return.
As he mulled over the possibilities, there was a shout from high atop the wall. Riders had been sighted and were rapidly approaching the village. There were only three, riding fast for Lioncross.
The gates were open and Christopher positioned himself dead center, his huge serrated broadsword in his left hand. David and Edward joined him, a grim welcoming party for the intruders.
As Christopher watched three knights approach, he was aware of his protective feelings towards Lioncross as well. He hadn’t been at the fortress for an hour and already he was ready and willing to die for it. It was his, already under his skin. It took him a moment to realize he had finally come home.
The riders reined their great destriers to within several feet of the drawbridge, their horses dancing and kicking up dust. Christopher waited, ready to spring into action and cut off a head should it be so required. He was as coiled as a spring.
The rider in the middle suddenly began to laugh, it was a curiously familiar laugh. Ripping off his helmet, he continued to laugh heartily.
“So the rumors were true, Lion’s Claw,” he said, dismounting his steed.
Christopher went limp with relief. He knew the face and he knew the man. “Leeton de Shera,” he hissed. “How in the hell did you find me?”
Leeton just laughed as he approached, and the other two knights tore off their helmets as well, joining in the laughter.
“Christ on his Mighty Throne,” Christopher muttered a curse, gazing at the others. “You brought the devil twins with you. Max and Anthony de Velt.”
The de Velt twins were mirror images of each other, of average height but built like the mighty mountains of the north, with long dark hair and brown eyes. Leeton, however, was as blond as Christopher and more so; even his eyelashes and eyebrows were white. He was tall and well-built, and had been Christopher’s close friend since they had fostered together in Derby. He had not chosen to crusade with Richard, instead, remaining as captain for the Earl of Derby. Christopher wondered what he was doing so far from his fortress.