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CHAPTER TWENTY

D ustin had been watching the dancing for the past two hours.

But something was amiss.

Perhaps it was simply her overactive imagination, but something didn’t seem quite right. Curtis and Elle were dancing in front of the snapping hearth as the minstrels played, along with Myles, Douglas, Christin, Liora, Melusine, and Asa, but neither Myles nor Douglas could seem to find partners, which was why they’d ended up dancing with Christin and Liora. The single women, who had come with their fathers or brothers, didn’t seem particularly interested, not even when handsome Andrew tried to persuade them. One young woman, from the House of de Lave, did dance for a little while, but after two dances with Andrew and Douglas, her father demanded she sit down with her mother.

It was quite strange.

And Dustin was watching all of it, trying to figure out what was going on. The music was good and the wine was flowing, but no one seemed to be having a good time. Christopher, who had been in Curtis’ solar in the keep with Peter, Caius, Alexander, Bretton, Robert, Tristan, and Sean, eventually came out and rejoined the people in the hall. Most of them headed for the dais, collecting cups and leftover food as they sat. Christopher, cup in hand, sat next to his wife and smiled at her before taking a hefty swallow of the wine.

“This is good,” he said, smacking his lips. “After sending so much to Curt, I think our own stores are running low. I must send for more.”

Dustin didn’t respond to his comment as he drank more wine and muttered something to Alexander about taking a trip to Burgundy to find other, more delicious wine. She was fixed on the dancing.

“Chris,” she finally muttered.

“Aye, love?”

She pointed to the group dancing. “Does something seem odd to you?”

Alexander and Peter, the closest, heard her. “What seems odd, Mama?” Peter said. “Other than Douglas being angry that he has to dance with a sister, nothing looks odd to me.”

Even though Dustin wasn’t his mother by birth, she had raised him, so Peter always addressed her as his mother. As he and Alexander snorted about Douglas pitching fits because Andrew drew in the unmarried women before he did, Dustin pointed to the dancing group again.

“Do you think it strange that the only people dancing are de Lohr family members?” she said. “Look—it is only those from our family. With music like this, there should be dozens of dancers out there.”

Christopher simply shrugged. “Mayhap they do not feel like dancing tonight,” he said. “It is no great mystery.”

But Dustin wouldn’t let go. “Look at them,” she said, gesturing to the guests on the other side of the hall. “They are not even looking at the dancers. Everyone is crowded away from them. There is no cheering, no joy. No one is even here at the dais, speaking to us. We may as well be eating alone.”

Now, Christopher was starting to see what she meant. “It does seem odd,” he said. “Do we all smell horribly? Is a foul odor driving everyone away?”

Dustin was becoming increasingly annoyed with it. “Sean,” she said, turning to the man across the table as he sat in conversation with Caius. “Will you and Cai see what you can find out? You do not bear the de Lohr last name, so if this is some kind of strange vendetta against us, maybe they will tell you. Find out why no one is dancing and no one is speaking to us, but be discreet.”

Sean, perhaps one of the greatest spies England had ever seen, had heard most of the conversation. He looked to the dancers, musicians, and finally the hall full of people that seemed to be oddly removed from the party going on around them.

“What is wrong with them?” he said, frowning. “There should be twenty dancers out there, not eight. If my wife were here, she would dance until dawn.”

“That is exactly what I said,” Dustin said. “Will you see what you can discover?”

Sean stood up. “Come along, Cai,” he said, nudging Caius. “Let’s find out what is wrong with this crowd.”

Caius stood up, following Sean as they left the dais and headed toward the throng of guests. As they moved with the stealth of panthers, blending in with the crowd, a young woman rose from her seat and headed for the dancers near the hearth. It took both Christopher and Dustin a moment to realize it was Larue, and when they became aware that she was moving toward Curtis, they passed glances between them. Larue, in close proximity to Curtis, was never a good thing, especially with Curtis’ rather volatile wife nearby. But they didn’t comment on it. They didn’t have to.

They knew what the stakes were.

What they didn’t know was that, thanks to Larue, the evening was about to break loose.

*

It had been a lively tune, and Elle was very nearly worn out. She’d been dancing for a couple of hours and was very much enjoying herself, but she was winded. So winded. Curtis had spun her around too many times, and her tender tummy didn’t appreciate it. As the music wound down, she came to a halt with her hand on her heaving chest.

“God’s Bones,” she said, breathing heavily. “Is this what happens at every great feast? People dance themselves into exhaustion?”

Curtis was sweating from exertion, but grinning. “Indeed,” he said. “You wanted to dance, so here we are.”

“I wanted to dance, not cavort in a frenzy and collapse in a heap.”

Curtis laughed, and was going in to embrace her when Myles grasped her by the hand and pulled her away.

“It is my turn to be your partner,” Myles said. “Let Curt dance with Christin. She is stepping on my feet too much.”

Christin, nearly bent over in exhaustion from the lively dancing, suddenly straightened up, her eyes widening dramatically at the insult. “Consider yourself fortunate that I am your partner,” she said imperiously. “I can just as easily force my husband to dance. He doesn’t complain.”

Myles shot her a long look. “He would rather die a thousand painful deaths than dance, and you know it,” he said. “Dance with Curt for a while. I want to dance with Lady Leominster.”

Even as Myles pulled her along, Elle was trying to beg off. “Please, I must rest,” she said. “Let me sit for a few minutes and then I will dance with you, I promise.”

“ What ?” Curtis gasped in mock outrage. “You are promising him a dance? Then it is over between us, Lady Leominster. I do not care if you are the most beautiful, brilliant, and witty woman in the world. I’m through with you, you ungrateful wench.”

He was a little drunk and far too dramatic. Elle bit her lip to keep from laughing. “As you wish,” she said. “I’m certain I can find others who would be interested, so I do not need you, either.”

“How dare you!” Curtis declared. “Show me these men and I will slay them where they stand.”

“Then it is true. She can find others.”

Suddenly, there was a woman in their midst whom Elle didn’t recognize. She wasn’t unattractive, with jewels around her neck and on her ears, and her hair in a careful coif that was slightly disheveled. She interjected herself into the conversation, interrupting, and she was looking at Curtis with a decidedly inebriated expression. In fact, if Elle didn’t know better, the expression seemed to border on seductive. But even if Elle didn’t recognize her, Curtis did.

All of the humor left his face.

“Lady Munstone,” he greeted her. “I apologize, I did not quite hear what you said.”

The woman shook her head sadly. “Poor Curtis,” she said. “I heard what happened. Everyone has heard. You have our sympathy.”

Curtis had no idea what she was talking about, and neither did anyone else. Irritated that Larue had interrupted his conversation with his wife, Curtis gestured to Elle.

“I do not believe you have met Lady Leominster,” he said. “This is my wife. Elle, this is Larue, Lady Munstone. Her husband is an ally.”

Larue turned to look at Elle, weaving unsteadily as she did so. She was appearing more drunk by the moment. She looked Elle over, from head to toe, and returned her focus to Curtis.

“Dance with me,” she said. “I have come all the way to Brython, and I want you to dance with me.”

Curtis wasn’t pleased that she had been rude to Elle. “Greet my wife, Lady Munstone,” he said, his voice low. “It would be the polite thing to do.”

Larue rubbed one eye, nearly throwing herself off balance as she did so, before looking to Elle. “ Lady Leominster,” she said in a catty display before returning her attention to Curtis. “We’ve all heard how this marriage came about, and you have our sympathy. Mayhap your wife should know that our loyalty is to you, Curt. What your father did to you was not fair.”

“What are you talking about?” Myles said, frowning. “Sit back down, Lady Munstone. You’re drunk.”

Curtis held up a hand to silence his brother, but Larue lashed out at him. “Why couldn’t it have been you?” she said, her voice lifting as she glared at Myles. “Why did it have to be Curtis? If your father was going to force one of you to marry a Welsh whore, why did it have to be Curtis?”

Liora and Elle gasped at the blatant insult as Christin, who had been listening to the entire exchanged, moved like lightning. Before Curtis could stop her, she was on Larue, her fingers biting into the woman’s arm.

“Get out of here, you drunken fool,” she said. “Get out of here before I cut your tongue out.”

Larue gasped in pain as Christin squeezed, and Myles and Curtis were forced to separate them. Curtis had hold of Larue, turning her in the direction of her husband’s table.

“Return to your husband, Larue,” he growled. “For the insult you have dealt to my wife, tell him to go back to your encampment. He is not welcome at Brython, and nor are you. Get out.”

But Larue wouldn’t be pushed around. She slapped at Curtis’ hands, stumbling away from him.

“Don’t touch me!” she nearly screamed. “You… you stupid beast! I know all about your wife and how she was not a virgin when you married her! I know how she kept company with Welsh rebels, warming their bed! We all know that you were forced into this marriage because she is of Welsh royal blood, but royal blood of the Welsh is no better than the blood of dogs. You married a dog when you could have married me!”

The entire room had fallen into shocked silence as Larue shouted her venom. There wasn’t one person in the hall who hadn’t heard her. Through it all, Elle stood stock-still, unmoving and hardly breathing. She was so shocked that she couldn’t do anything but stand there, cut to the bone by the woman’s accusations, but Curtis wasn’t silent in the least. It occurred to him that Larue was repeating what she had heard because someone on this night had been spreading rumors. He didn’t know who, or why, but something had been going on.

Something nasty.

He, too, had wondered why no one else was dancing on this night when it should have been filled with merry revelers. Instead, the guests seemed to be keeping to themselves as the de Lohr family enjoyed the food and wine and music. When the dancing first started, he’d wondered why no one joined them, but because Elle had been having such a good time, he didn’t think any more about it. He was focused on her, as he should be. But now…

Now, he could see that something was most definitely afoot. That was why no one was dancing or singing or celebrating. Like the small-minded bastards they were, someone had started a rumor about a Welshwoman and the others had listened. Elle was not one of them. She wasn’t English, so the crowd was more than willing to believe any slander spoken against her. They were showing their true colors.

Now, he was about to show his.

“So this is what has happened,” he said, looking at Larue with unmitigated disgust before looking to the group of guests. Enraged, he leapt onto the nearest table, scattering the empty cups as he shouted. “Is that what has happened? You have all heard some vicious gossip and, suddenly, you have decided to shun my wife? Is that why you’re all crowded away from the dais?”

His voice was reverberating off the roof by the time he finished. He could see Robert de Wolfe and Tristan de Royans near the entry, but they weren’t part of the group that was huddled together. When they heard him shouting, they came away from the entry and moved past the other guests, going to take a stand near Christopher and Curtis and the de Lohr family. Bretton de Llion had been with them, and he, too, moved over to the de Lohr side. Sean and Caius, who had blended into the group to discover why they’d been so standoffish, now had their answer. They, too, began to move away. All of them moved over to the de Lohr family, as something quite serious was evidently happening.

They would side with de Lohr to the death.

Even against petty rumors.

But Curtis was beyond livid. He was still drunk, which made his actions more dramatic, but he was a very big man with a very nasty temper when aroused, and the guests and allies he’d invited for a celebratory feast were going to find that out firsthand.

He spoke with great animation.

“Since some of you have chosen to listen to slanderous gossip about my wife, let me be plain,” he said. “Elle was married before. She is a widow. That is why she was not a virgin coming into our marriage, if it’s any of your damn business. As for warming the beds of Welsh rebels, nothing could be further from the truth. My wife is the daughter of Gwenwynwyn ap Owain, and she has spent her life fighting for the rights of her people. Rather than sit on her arse and dictate to others, like so many of you do, she chose to fight alongside them, and that is noble and admirable. And as for my being forced into this marriage, let me assure you that it was not the case. While the marriage was arranged, I love my wife and we are very happy. That is something most of you cannot claim, so if you must gossip about a woman you do not know simply because she is Welsh, then I believe I must rethink my alliance with the lot of you.”

John Munstone, who hadn’t paid much attention to his wife until she spouted off about the rumors regarding Lady Leominster, stepped forward. He had seen his wife earlier in the evening, whispering rumors to others, and with her most recent explosion, he realized that she was largely to blame for the situation.

John didn’t want to lose the de Lohr alliance.

“Forgive me, my lord,” he said, heading in Larue’s direction even as he was begging pardon. “I… I do not believe my wife meant any harm. We were only concerned for you and your reputation.”

Curtis scowled. “How dare you lie to my face,” he said. “You were concerned for your reputation, not mine. You were concerned how you would be viewed if you associated with a man married to a woman with a sullied reputation, so your lies are unbecoming, Munstone. You are supposed to be a great warlord, but you clearly have the mind of a muddled fishwife. All of you do.”

John cleared his throat nervously, glancing back to the group of shocked people. “You are correct,” he finally said. “It is… regrettable.”

Curtis wasn’t in a forgiving mood. “Regrettable?” he said. “Is that all you have to say? I do not even care who started these rumors, but you listened to them and you believed them and you repeated them. Against a woman who has never done you any harm. Do you know why I arranged for this feast tonight? Because I wanted to introduce her to you. To everyone. I wanted to show her how noble and loyal our allies are. But you made me a liar. I told her you were good people, and you made a liar out of me.”

John appeared truly remorseful. “Sometimes it is… difficult,” he said, trying to make excuses. “Your wife is Welsh, after all. Most of us have lost friends and loved ones to the Welsh. It is harder to accept the Welsh sometimes.”

“And easier to believe any slander about them.”

“Unfortunately, it is.”

That only fueled Curtis’ fury, and he unleashed on that small, timid man. “If you’d like to spread rumors that are actually true, let us speak of your wife and how many beds she warmed before you married her,” he said angrily. “I know that for a fact because she tried to worm her way into my bed on more than one occasion. I do not think there is an aroused manhood between Hereford and Brookthorpe that she hasn’t put her mouth on, so before you go spreading foul rumors about others, you had better keep your own house in check, Munstone. If you are looking for whores, look no further than the one who bears your name.”

It was a low and cutting blow, but he’d meant it that way. His fierce defense of Elle called for it. Larue burst into tears, rushing past her husband and running out of the hall. Curtis watched her go, utterly sickened and disgusted with her and the horrific situation she had started. He began to say something else, but someone climbed onto the table beside him, and he turned to see his father.

“No more, Curt,” he said quietly. “You’ve said enough.”

Curtis could see that the man was pale with distress. “You think so?” he said incredulously. “I think they deserve all that and more for what they’ve done. They haven’t heard half of what I intend to say to them.”

Christopher looked at him. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I agree, they deserve it. But you must take Elle out of here. She is close to swooning.”

That had Curtis moving off the table, rushing for Elle, who was standing where he had left her, shocked and trembling. She was positively ashen. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her tightly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. Dustin and Christin moved up beside them quickly.

“Take her out through the servants’ entrance,” Dustin said quietly. “I will follow. Christin, go with them.”

Christin did. In fact, Alexander joined her, and they shoved people out of the way as Curtis carried Elle out of the great hall and into the keep. Alexander lit a torch and illuminated their way up the narrow stairs, kicking open the master’s chamber door while Christin rushed in and began lighting tapers. Between Christin and Alexander, they lit up the room and started a fire in the hearth as Curtis laid Elle down on the big bed that they shared.

Her eyes were closed, tears streaming onto her temples, as he put a big hand on her forehead, feeling as terrible as he possibly could. Christin came up beside him, bending over to kiss Elle on the head before she turned to her brother.

“Let me tend to Larue,” she said. “Let me do this, Curt. Please .”

Curtis knew what she meant. His sister had been a trained spy and assassin long ago, serving William Marshal in all manner of risky situations. Quite literally, she wanted to end Larue.

God, it was tempting.

“Although I love you for asking, not now,” he said. “Papa would skin us both, so not now. But ask me again in a week. I may have a different answer for you.”

Frustrated, but understanding his hesitation, Christin turned away, folding her arms angrily across her chest. Alexander eyed his rather unpredictable wife with some concern before going to Curtis.

“Do you need anything?” he asked softly. “What can we do for you?”

Curtis looked at him. “Burn down the great hall, mayhap?” he said with some irony. “Just make sure everyone we love is out of it and burn the bastard down.”

Alexander knew he wasn’t serious. Well, not too serious. But there was anguish in his expression. “If I thought you meant it, I would do it without hesitation,” he said. Then he put his hand on Curtis’ shoulder. “I’ll leave you to tend your wife, and I must tend mine. I’m not entirely sure she is not going to go after Munstone’s wife, regardless of what you say, so I will need to talk her out of it. And I will probably need to calm your father down.”

Curtis nodded quickly. “Go,” he said. “And Sherry… thank you.”

Alexander gave him a brief smile before going to collect his wife, who was secretly planning how to end Lady Munstone’s life and make it look like an accident. As Alexander put an arm around her and escorted her from the chamber, Curtis stood over Elle and watched her with great concern. His heart was breaking for her in so many ways. He only hoped he could repair the damage that had been done this night.

In truth, he wasn’t entirely certain he could.

What a mess.

“May I have some water?”

Elle asked the question so pathetically that Curtis immediately went to the pitcher they had in the chamber, the one that had boiled water and fruit juice. Elle wasn’t hugely fond of wine, and her pregnancy was making her gag with ale, so the watered fruit juice was the only thing she could really drink. He poured her a cup and quickly took it over to her just as she was sitting up. He helped her to drink it, all the while watching her anxiously.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked. “Bread, mayhap?

She lay back down, closing her eyes. “Nay,” she said softly. “I just want to sleep.”

“Of course, my love,” he said, pulling the coverlet over her and tucking it around her. Then he sat there and watched her, his heart absolutely breaking. “I’m so very sorry for this. If I had to guess, I would be willing to bet my life on the fact that Larue started those unsavory rumors. I’m so deeply sorry.”

Elle didn’t open her eyes as she rolled onto her side. “You know her.”

“I do.”

“She wanted to marry you.”

He nodded regretfully. “She did,” he said. “I should have told you.”

“Did you know she was going to be here tonight?”

“Nay,” he said. “I did not know she’d married Munstone until my father told me this evening.”

“Yet you did not tell me,” she said. “Just like you did not tell me about Gruffydd. What else have you not told me, Curtis?”

Suddenly, he could see trouble. There was a trust issue now, and the realization cut him to the bone. “Nothing, I swear it,” he said. “I did not tell you about Gruffydd because I needed you to find some peace with him for the sake of our alliance and for no other reason. If you knew he was coming, I feared it would have clouded your entire evening, and I wanted you to look forward to it. As for Larue, it simply did not occur to me. Had she behaved herself, there would have been no issue, but given what I know about her, I should have anticipated trouble. That is my failing, and I apologize for it.”

Elle didn’t answer right away. He thought she had fallen asleep, and he’d stood up to bolt the door and prepare for bed when she spoke softly.

“Now, that entire group knows our most private secrets,” she muttered. “They know my private secrets. They know I was not a virgin when you married me. They know I am a widow who fought alongside Welsh rebels. But they will never fully believe you when you told them I was not a whore. They will always think terribly of me.”

He looked at her. “That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“Then what do you want me to do?” he asked in a tone bordering on pleading. “Do you want me to go back to the hall and speak to each one of them? I will if you want me to.”

Her eyes suddenly opened, and she sat up in bed. “And tell them more intimate details of me?” she said. “Of course not. The less they know about me, the better. Your family has been warm and wonderful, Curtis, but your allies are exactly as I imagined the English to be. Petty, nasty, and vile. Do not give them any more information on me. I do not care what they think. But you should have told me about Gruffydd, and you should have told me about Larue. It makes me wonder what else you’ve withheld from me in spite of your denials.”

He went to stand in front of her. “I do not lie,” he said, his voice low. “I will swear to you that there is nothing else I’ve not told you. If you do not believe that, then we do indeed have a problem.”

She eyed him before lying back down and closing her eyes. “Please leave me alone,” she said. “I want to sleep, and I want to do it alone. Go back to your family, Curtis. They’ve come a long way to see you, so you must not ruin their evening. But I will not go back into the hall as long as your allies are there.”

“I do not blame you,” he said. “But know this—I love you, Ellie. With all that I am, I love you. If I could have prevented what happened tonight, had I known it was coming, then I would have stopped it. I will defend you to the death. I hope you know that.”

The tears began to trickle out of her eyes again. “I know you love me,” she whispered. “I love you also. But love didn’t stop the hurt and humiliation. It didn’t stop you from withholding information from me. I had a right to know what I was facing tonight, and you took that away from me. You left me vulnerable and then tried to protect me after the fact. All I know is that I would have never done such a thing to you.”

Curtis felt as if he’d been hit in the gut. He felt desperation as he’d never felt in his life. She was hurt and she was withdrawing, and the last thing he wanted was for her to return to the woman she was when he met her… guarded and suspicious. Had something been damaged tonight that could not be repaired?

It made him sick to think about it.

A soft knock at the door caught his attention, and he went to open it. He pulled back the panel to reveal Melusine, who was looking at him anxiously.

“I came to see if I could help,” she said softly. “Is Ellie well?”

Curtis looked over to the bed where Elle was huddled up. “I do not know,” he said honestly. “But I think she would rather not have me here right now, so do come in. At least someone will be with her if she needs something.”

Puzzled, Melusine came in while Curtis went out. As he headed down the stairs, she closed the door and threw the bolt, moving toward the bed with hesitation. She peered at her cousin with great concern.

“Elle?” she said timidly. “What did he mean by that?”

Elle’s response was to burst into gut-busting sobs.