Dunstan woke early. He had slept sitting up against a tree trunk, as was his way upon the road, and when he opened his eyes the first thing he saw was Lady Warenne’s tent. Uttering a sharp oath, Dunstan stood quickly and went to rinse off his face in the cold running stream. In a moment, he had stripped off his clothes and doused his entire body instead.
When he had finished and dressed anew, Dunstan felt better than he had in days. Telling himself that he had rid the Lady Marion from his thoughts, he roused everyone with a vengeance in order to get the train off to an early start. The weather was holding and he wanted to take advantage of it.
Once they were off, he tried to maintain his improved mood, but the rest of the day stretched before him with all the appeal of a stay in the dungeon, and Dunstan decided he was getting too old for this nomadic life.
At one time a new journey would have thrilled him; now, he found that he longed far more for a good meal and a soft bed—mayhap even a wife with whom to share them. The idea of marriage, which would have startled him not so long ago, suddenly seemed long overdue. Perhaps it was time to get himself an heir.
Dunstan gazed behind him, toward a certain dark-haired female, and he found himself watching her, noting little details about her that had escaped his attention before.
Like the way she held herself, consummate grace exhibited in her every movement.
Like the way her body’s generous curves were visible even under the relatively shapeless gown she wore and the cloak that covered it.
Like the way her hair curled against her throat under her hood, begging to be set free.
When Dunstan felt himself longing to jerk away the material, letting the rich, dark locks fall loose, he knew he was not himself. With a low curse, he reminded himself of the lady’s sins. They were plentiful! She was reckless, willful, argumentative, thoughtless, fanciful and untruthful. She was delaying not only this errand with her antics, but his presence at Wessex, as well.
Dunstan was a man who liked his world as plain and simple as possible, while she had more facets than Hydra had heads! And he had not the patience to sort through them all. Ruing his own wayward thoughts, Dunstan resolved that although he might take a bride someday soon, the wren was definitely not worth considering for the position. Then he wheeled his destrier to the head of the column—well away from her.
Dunstan stayed there for most of the day. Although they passed only a few other travelers and some farmers, he remained alert. Despite their number, attack on the roadways was always a possibility, and his job was to see that nothing happened to his charge or his men.
As they approached a village, Dunstan fell back, searching for Marion. Although he did not think her so foolish as to try to flee again, he knew passing by gawking peasants would make a good diversion for her to try to escape, and he had no desire for any further delays.
When he did not immediately spy her or his squire, Dunstan felt a prick of uneasiness. Although he knew not how she could escape on horseback in full view of all, he was beginning to think that Marion was possessed of extraordinary abilities not associated with the typical female.
His jaw clenched tightly, Dunstan reined in and waited, eyeing the soldiers, servants and carts that passed him for a sign of her form. Despite his best efforts, his agitation grew—until he heard something that heralded her approach as nothing else could. Laughter such as Dunstan had never known danced across the air to him, rich as good earth and warm as summer sunshine, though what made him liken a sound to such, he was not sure. His mind, Dunstan decided, with grim humor, had been too much on husbandry of late.
Of course, it washerlaughter, Dunstan noted with wry appreciation. When he noticed the source of the wren’s delight, however, his amusement fled, for it was Walter who rode beside her, coaxing the most amazing smiles from her and engaging her in easy banter. As Dunstan watched, she laughed again, deep and full-throated, and he felt something inside himself stir and reach toward the sound like a plant to the light.
But it was Walter who basked in the glow of her brightness, and Dunstan felt his gut twist at that knowledge. He scowled blackly at his vassal before his attention was drawn to his squire, who rode behind the merry duo, easy prey for any outlaw and pathetic protection for Marion.
Dunstan’s anger easily fixed upon his vassal, who knew better than to place the most vulnerable riders at the rear. What was Walter thinking? Dunstan wondered, before he realized that in all probability, Walter was not thinking at all—except with his nether regions.
“Walter.” Dunstan’s tone made his vassal swivel toward him immediately. “Scout up ahead,” he ordered curtly. Not trusting himself to say more, Dunstan saved his rebuke for later and simply urged the knight on with a jerk of his head. For a moment, Dunstan thought he saw anger pass across his vassal’s face, but so quickly was it replaced by a mocking smile that Dunstan deemed himself mistaken.
With an insolent nod, Walter sent him a look that plainly asked him if he was jealous.Jealous?Dunstan gritted his teeth as raw fury rushed through him at the ridiculous accusation. Walter knew very well that Dunstan could not care less about Marion Warenne. She was naught but a package to be delivered, but delivered she would be—in one piece and untouched by his men—to Baddersly.
While Walter rode away, Dunstan narrowed his eyes suspiciously and pondered his vassal’s sudden interest in the woman. Aside from a few sly comments, Walter had never shown her the slightest notice, yet today he was playing the gallant, drawing her out, chatting with her and moving her to the end of the train…. It was passing strange.
“What be you about, my lord? Am I barred from any discourse with my companions?” Dunstan was dragged from his thoughts by the sound of Marion’s soft voice. Turning to face her, he saw that she had donned her most composed manner, which, in light of her behavior with Walter, pricked sorely at Dunstan’s already black temper.
“Perhaps you should be, if your intention is to work your womanly wiles upon my men until they are so addled that they are of no use to me,” he snapped.
Her lovely eyes widened in response, as if his accusation stunned her, and Dunstan might have been taken in, had he not known her for a lying trickster. He began to wonder if her speech with his vassal hid ulterior motives. Surely she would not try to engage Walter to her cause. Even she would not attempt another flight alone into the woods…would she? Dunstan felt an uneasiness settle upon him that had nothing to do with her discourse with Walter.
“Cedric,” he said in quiet admonition. “My lady’s place is not at the end of the train. She is in danger here.”
Cedric jerked upright in the saddle. “Yes, my lord!”
“Let us ride on till we are in the midst of the men,” Dunstan instructed, sliding a glance toward Marion. She darted a look behind her, as if expecting to see outlaws pressing down upon them.
“Yea, my lady. The roads are dangerous,” Dunstan said grimly. His disquiet grew at the thought of something happening to her, and an alien sort of fear washed over him, followed swiftly by anger at her foibles. By faith, he wanted to shake some sense into her! Had she no notion of the dangers that stalked abroad?
“We travel with a good band of armed men, and yet we must constantly be alert,” Dunstan told her through gritted teeth. “All manner of brigand would fain kill us for our purse and ransom you—or worse. Have you no idea what can happen to you, a beautiful woman, at the hands of lawless men?” he asked.
She did not answer, but regarded him with those huge eyes, wide with surprise—and innocence. Dunstan clenched his jaw tighter against the need to make her heed him.
“There are those who kill for the sheer thrill of it, but at least the end would be swift. Some things, I suspect, are worse than death. Ladies, especially, can be ill-used beyond imagination.” Dunstan broke off, torn between wanting her to see the folly of flight and wishing to protect her sensibilities.
