CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“You!”
Dashiell had hardly set food in the duke’s tent when Clayton was shouting at him.
“This is all your doing!” the man raged. “You have no power, du Reims! How many times must I tell you that Savernake belongs to me? You will not interfere!”
It was an instant battle and Dashiell sized up the room before engaging. The duke was lying on his bed and Acacia was sitting next to the bed, cowering from Clayton’s rage. Drusus was in the corner, watching everything fearfully, while two of Dashiell’s senior soldiers and Aston stood just inside the tent opening.
As Dashiell stood there and pondered the scene, it all seemed to pass before him in slow motion. For a split second, everything was lethargic and surreal. The past three years suddenly flashed before his eyes; Dashiell had spent that time circumventing Clayton’s plots and generally trying to ensure the man didn’t destroy the Savernake dukedom. It had been a lovely, peaceful place to live before the event of Clayton and his scheming father, and all Dashiell wanted to do was maintain that peace in the wake of a man who wanted to greedily consume everything. For Lily’s sake, and for the sake of everyone, Dashiell had genuinely tried to keep the peace.
But after the events of today, he was no longer going to do that.
He was furious. Bloody furious that Clayton had tried to kill the duke, yet again. At this moment, he decided there wasn’t going to be a “next time”. For all of their sakes, and for the safety of the Duke of Savernake, Dashiell had to take action.
It was time.
“Savernake does not belong to you,” Dashiell said, moving in Clayton’s direction. He pointed to Edward, napping in his bed. “It belongs to him. It never belonged to you. You came to Ramsbury three years ago and stole what did not belong to you. And now you are trying to hasten the duke’s death so you can assume what should have never been yours in the first place.”
Clayton was so angry that he was pale, a sheen of sweat on his upper lip. “Is that so?” he snarled. “Then who should it have gone to? Bentley of Ashbourne? He hasn’t the lineage to assume such a thing!”
“And you do?” Dashiell shot back. “Your father was a bachelor knight who married a woman with a small inheritance. He took that money and gambled it away. When he heard that the Duke of Savernake’s eldest daughter was unwed, he brought his only son to Ramsbury where you both convinced a man who was losing his mind that you would be the best possible husband for the heiress. It did not matter to you that she was in love with another man and that the duke approved the match. You lied and cheated your way into a betrothal and I am quite certain, if examined by the church, would have been found lacking. But you married Lily so swiftly that there wasn’t time for an appeal. So… the low-life son of a low-life father married the girl and inherits the dukedom.”
By the time he was finished, the impact of his words hung in the air, the reality of the situation permeating everything like a cloying stench. It was heavy and ugly. Clayton simply stood there, quivering with anger. He didn’t bother denying anything.
“You are a stubborn fool, du Reims,” he finally hissed. “Everything belongs to me and all of the rationalization in the world will not change that. Legally, and in the sight of God, Savernake belongs to me. I am the heir. If Edward is no longer able to make decisions, then command of this dukedom must fall to me.”
“You are not fit to utter the name Savernake much less assume the responsibility of it.”
Clayton twitched, as if ready to throw a punch, but he thought better of it. He wasn’t going to throw a punch at Dashiell because he knew he would lose in the end. Therefore, he started to move away from the man, out of arm’s range, as he spewed his venom.
“When I am the duke, I am going to throw you out of Ramsbury,” he seethed. “You have challenged my authority for the last time, do you hear? Edward’s daughters all belong to me and I shall do with them as I please. Did you think that introducing Lord Sherston to Lady Jillayne would change that? The man has been offered Belladonna’s hand and he will accept it!”
Dashiell tracked him as he moved across the tent. “I have no idea what you are speaking of.”
“Do not lie! You know exactly what I mean!”
“Whatever makes you think I introduced them?”
“Because that is something you would do! You are trying to distract Sherston, but it will not work! He wants Belladonna!”
“Did he tell you that?”
“Of course he did!”
Dashiell was fairly certain he was lying. He hoped he was, at any rate. He knew Sherston, but not too terribly well, so it was possible for the man to go back on his word. Dashiell hoped that wasn’t the case.
“Then if he wants Belladonna, what was he doing with Lady Jillayne?” Dashiell asked, taunting him.
Clayton’s entire face was twitching with rage. “Because you forced them together. You introduced them!”
Dashiell didn’t like being called a liar, and he didn’t like how the situation was now turned on him as if he had to defend himself. It was Clayton’s way of taking the focus off of him, but it wasn’t going to work.
“I do not wish to talk about something as insignificant as Sherston,” he said. “I want to talk about you. Where were you today when the duke wandered out into the mass competition?”
Clayton’s lip twitched in a menacing manner. “I do not have to answer to you.”
Dashiell folded his big arms across his chest. “When it comes to the safety of the duke, you do,” he said. “I am told that you were seen on the fringes of the field at the same time the duke appeared on the field. You did not show up for a competition you were scheduled to compete in, and suddenly the duke appears in the middle of the fighting, just as he appeared in Driffield, and Northampton, and a half-dozen other battles.”
“I had nothing to do with those!”
“Yet you gave Drusus four coins so he would do your bidding when it came to the duke.”
There was no use in refuting that and Clayton knew it, but he tried. “I never said anything about the duke. I gave Drusus the money because…”
“Because you were trying to buy him, just as you bought Simon, whom I dismissed.”
Clayton’s twitching was growing worse. “You cannot prove anything.”
Dashiell’s gaze lingered on the man. He didn’t speak for a moment, but it was intentional – the longer he remained silent, simply staring at Clayton, the more nervous the man became.
“Then tell me something,” he finally said. “Where were you today while the competition was going on?”
Clayton was glaring at him but he seemed to be having difficulty making eye contact. “I… I was in camp.”
“After I knocked you to the ground, what did you do?”
Dashiell’s voice was loud, almost mocking, and Clayton flared. “It is none of your business what I did!”
Dashiell was finished playing games with the man. “I will tell you what you did,” he said. “You came back to the duke’s tent and forced Drusus to dress the man. Drusus can confirm this.”
Everyone turned to look at the minder, standing back in the shadows. When he saw all eyes upon him, he was startled by all of the attention. Fearful of Clayton, he kept his focus on Dashiell.
“He… he had me dress the duke, my lord,” he stammered.
Dashiell’s tone with Drusus was considerably softer than it had been with Clayton. “Did he tell you why?”
The minder shook his head fearfully. “He told me to dress him, my lord,” he said. “I did not ask why.”
“But it was Clayton who forced you to dress the duke and then took the man from the tent.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Dashiell looked back at Clayton, his expression somewhat droll. “Now we know what you did when you were supposed to be on the field of competition,” he said. “You came here, forced Drusus to dress the duke, and then took the duke down to the field, knowing full well that the man could easily be injured or killed by the competitors. There is no use in denying it. Therefore, I will make the assumption that in your actions, you deliberately tried to kill the duke. That is attempted murder, Clayton. I have put up with your attempts to put the duke in harm’s way long enough. I will no longer tolerate your threat against him.”
Clayton was turning red in the face. “If the duke wants to see the competition, then you have no right to deny him. If it was up to you, you would keep the man caged like a beast for the rest of his life!”
“I keep him in his chamber, or in his tent, for his own safety and you are well aware of that,” Dashiell said. “But somehow, you have found a way to release him time and time again, hoping he will meet his death so that you may inherit his dukedom. I will tell you now that this will not happen again.”
Clayton wasn’t sure what that meant, but he knew he didn’t like it. “You cannot give me orders and you cannot prove anything. It is the wild speculation of a madman!”
Dashiell didn’t answer him. He turned to Aston and the two soldiers behind him. “Remove him,” he commanded. “Take him to my tent where you will bind him. He is now my prisoner. I want no less than six guards on him at all times. When we get him back to Ramsbury, his new home will be the vault.”
Aston rushed Clayton with the greatest of pleasure as Clayton yelped in frustration, in fear, when he realized what Dashiell was doing. He tried to run but he didn’t get far; Aston had him around the neck, throwing him to the ground, as the soldiers pounced on him.
As Clayton twisted and bellowed, the soldiers restrained him and pulled him to his feet. Clayton kicked and fought.
“Unhand me!” he roared. “You cannot touch me!”
Dashiell ignored him as Aston and the two soldiers dragged him out of the tent. He could hear Clayton cursing and screaming as he was taken back to Dashiell’s heavily-guarded tent.
The threat, finally, was neutralized.
It was a powerful moment. In hearing Clayton’s extreme distress, Dashiell could only feel relief. Relief that the duke would now be safe and relief that, perhaps, they could all resume a somewhat normal life again now that Clayton’s behavior had finally gotten him into trouble. Dashiell had overlooked too many transgressions, thinking he could handle Clayton in his own way, but the truth was that with Clayton growing bolder, the situation had become dire.
When they returned to Ramsbury, Dashiell was going to bring Clayton up on attempted murder charges and seek out Gavin de Nerra to see what justice could be served. Perhaps, it would mean Clayton spending the rest of his life in the vault and forfeiting the dukedom even though he was married to the heiress. That might prove tricky, so Dashiell was determined to seek out de Nerra as soon as they returned home.
Meanwhile, Savernake could return to normal.
The soft sound of weeping jolted Dashiell from his thoughts and he turned to see Acacia sobbing into her hands. He immediately remembered what Belladonna had told him, of Clayton bedding Acacia, and he could see in that instant that it was absolutely true. Acacia had just seen her lover subdued and was understandably upset, so if she’d meant to keep the affair a secret, her tears had given her away. Dashiell didn’t have much sympathy for her.
“My lady?” he said politely. “Mayhap you should return to your own tent now. It would be better for you there.”
Acacia’s head jerked up, her eyes red and watery. Her mouth worked, as if she wanted to say something to him, but the words wouldn’t come. Gathering her skirts, she ran past Dashiell and out of the tent.
Now, it was just Drusus remaining, along with the duke. Dashiell looked up at Drusus, seeing that the man appeared greatly relieved. Drusus was a simple man, but he was honest, and Dashiell knew he was fearful of Clayton. He lived in fear of Clayton probably more than most because every time he obeyed Clayton, because he had no choice, he risked Dashiell’s anger. It surely must have been a hellish existence, and Dashiell wasn’t unsympathetic.
Finally, Dashiell’s gaze moved to Edward, who was sleeping heavily upon his traveling bed. It was a fine piece of furniture, made by Savoy artisans. All of this angst and madness because of an old man who had lost his mind.
It was sad, truly.
Dashiell bent over the duke just to make sure he was well, putting a hand on the old man’s forehead in an affectionate gesture. He loved the man like a second father, and all of the madness with Clayton had been distressing. God willing, the duke would be safe now and able to live out what was left of his life in peace. Come what may, Dashiell was going to do his best to ensure that happened.
Removing his hand from the duke, Dashiell glanced up at Drusus. “I will send more soldiers to guard the duke,” he said. “You will not leave him, not ever.”
Drusus nodded firmly. “Aye, my lord.”
“And you will not let him leave this tent. If he has a notion to wander, then send one of the soldiers for me.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Dashiell headed for the tent opening, feeling more peace and calm than he had in a very long while. He could still hear Clayton screaming, now something about the bindings being too tight. Dashiell could only shake his head. As far as he was concerned, Clayton wasn’t getting nearly what he deserved, but it would have to do for now. The threat was neutralized and that was all he cared about.
But those thoughts were quickly distracted as he heard angry voices coming from the tent that Belladonna shared with Acacia. Specifically, he could hear Belladonna’s voice.
And she was clearly unhappy.
After fleeing her father’s tent, Acacia headed for the tent she shared with her sister. She could hear voices in there and, stifling her sobs with her hand pressed over her mouth, she stumbled into the tent.
Belladonna was there, as were Lily and Bentley. In fact, Bentley was sitting on the ground as Lily and Belladonna stood over him, with Lily tending to a cut over his right eyebrow. It was a fairly substantial cut, something he’d gotten on the tournament field, but there was dirt caked into it that Lily was trying to clean out. Belladonna held a bowl of warmed wine, used to clean it, while Lily scraped away with a cloth.
“He arrested him!” Acacia gasped.
Belladonna, Lily, and Bentley looked up at her.
“Who was arrested?” Belladonna asked.
Acacia was nearly hysterical. “Clayton!” she said. “Dash had him arrested! Did you not hear the screaming?”
Truth was, they had. Belladonna had even peeked her head from the tent to see Clayton being dragged away by Aston and some other men. Her first reaction had been shock, as had Lily and Bentley’s, but that was only momentary. Elation followed.
However, knowing what Belladonna did of her middle sister’s relationship to Clayton, she showed no interest at all in what her sister was clearly upset over.
“Thank God,” she muttered as she turned back to the task at hand. “I am so glad Dash finally arrested him. I hope they beat Clayton to death for all of the pain and sorrow he has caused us.”
Acacia’s eyes widened. “Can you be so cruel?” she said. “What Dash has done is… is….”
“Is better than Clayton deserved,” Belladonna fired at her angrily. “Do you seriously intend to defend Clayton? Three years of hell from that man and you honestly think to defend him?”
Acacia was emotionally unbalanced. She had tears spilling over her cheeks as she stared at her sister. “You heartless woman,” she hissed. “Dashiell is a criminal for arresting him. I will go to the king and tell him what Dashiell has done!”
By this time, Lily turned to her sister, a scowl on her face. “What do you care what becomes of him, Acacia?” she demanded. “He is certainly no concern of yours. I, for one, am more relieved than I can say. I thank God that Dash had the courage to do it. He will always have my undying gratitude.”
Acacia blinked as if startled at Lily’s response. It was so… cold. But she had expected it. Clayton was her sister’s husband, a woman who never loved him nor understood him. Acacia had been Clayton’s only salvation in a world where everyone hated him and as she looked at Lily, she began to feel unreasonable jealousy and hatred. She’d never felt that before, not in the entire year that Clayton had been bedding her.
But now… now, she felt it.
How she hated Lily for being married to her lover.
“This is all your fault,” she growled.
Lily truly had no idea why her sister was so excited over Clayton. “My fault? What did I do?”
Acacia jabbed a finger at her. “You did not love him,” she said, her voice trembling. “Had you only shown him a measure of compassion and respect, others would have, too. But you showed him disregard and everyone saw that he was unworthy of their respect. It was you who did this to him!”
Lily was genuinely taken aback. “You are mad,” she said. “You know that I never wanted to marry him. You know he tricked Papa into the betrothal. How can you say such things to me?”
“Because you treat him no better than a dog!”
“He is no better than a dog!”
Acacia made a choking sound. “Wicked,” she hissed. “You are wicked and sinful. And I know why!”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Shut your lips, Acacia,” she said, turning back to Bentley’s wound. “I will not listen to you any longer.”
“Him!” Acacia pointed at Bentley. “It is because of him! You still love him, and he has prevented you from loving your husband. It is wicked, I say!”
Belladonna had stood by silently, watching her sisters argue, but she could no longer remain silent when Acacia started accusing her sister of adultery. She knew exactly why Acacia was unleashing on Lily and she wouldn’t stand by and watch it happen. As Lily’s face turned red and she turned to Acacia to scream at her, Belladonna put herself between her sisters and focused her fury on Acacia.
“You are the wicked one!” she shouted. “How dare you accuse Lily of such deceitful things when it is you who are deceitful!”
Acacia was wild-eyed with rage. “Shut your mouth, you little pimple! This does not concern you!”
Belladonna wouldn’t back down. “It does, indeed,” she said. “Where Clayton is concerned, it concerns us all, but you more than any of us. Back at Ramsbury, I saw you with Clayton as he bedded you. Did you think it was a secret, Acacia? Of course it wasn’t. I saw him as he… as he touched you in a way he should have only been touching his wife. You were warming his bed like a whore, which is exactly what you are. You are angry at Lily because you are her husband’s whore!”
Lily’s eyes widened as she faced Acacia with her mouth hanging open. “He – he bedded you?” she gasped. “Acacia, is this true?”
Acacia’s face had gone from an angry red to a sickly white. She stared at her sisters, stepping backwards and almost tripping on her skirts. She was struggling to answer when Lily suddenly rushed at her and slapped her, hard, across the face.
“Answer me!” Lily screamed. “Are you Clayton’s whore? Is that why you are defending him?”
Dashiell picked that moment to appear in the tent opening and it was clear from his expression that he had heard everything. Acacia was nearest him and he reached out and grabbed her by the arms when she tried to bolt.
“Easy, lady,” he told her. “Be calm.”
But Acacia turned into a wildcat, digging her nails into Dashiell’s arms but creating no damage because of the heavy clothing he wore. Still, she tried to scratch him and pull away.
“Let me go, you beast,” she snarled.
Lily wasn’t finished with her sister. She ran up behind her and grabbed her by the hair, yanking savagely.
“You… you hypocrite!” she cried. “How long have you been warming my husband’s bed and shaming me in the process? How long?”
By this time, Bentley was on his feet and Dashiell called to him over the heads of the fighting women.
“Remove Lady le Cairon to her tent immediately,” he told him. “Keep her there.”
Bentley was on the move, pulling Lily’s hands out of Acacia’s hair, which was no easy feat. He had to unwind it from her angry fingers, and she refused to let go. She pulled and yanked, and Acacia screamed. Belladonna finally rushed forward to help Bentley and Dashiell separate them.
As Bentley dragged Lily from the tent, Belladonna more or less took Lily’s place by slapping Acacia on the head.
“How could you do that to her?” she cried. “All this time you have been telling all of us what sinners we were when you were the biggest sinner of all. God will punish you for this, Acacia. You are going to hell!”
Acacia had gone from defiant to sobbing pitifully. She’d stopped fighting Dashiell and simply stood in his grip, weeping.
“It is Lily’s fault,” she sobbed. “She left Clayton to fornicate with Bentley!”
Still, the woman refused to take responsibility and Belladonna balled up her fist, ready to take another swing at her. She was enraged beyond her capacity to control it. But when Dashiell saw the balled fist, he reached out to stop her.
“No more,” he told her steadily, pushing her hand down. “She will suffer greatly, but not by your hand. Leave her punishment to God.”
Belladonna looked at him and he could see tears pooling in her eyes. After a moment, she simply burst into tears and turned away.
Dashiell wasn’t entirely sure what to do with Acacia, but he couldn’t leave her here where Belladonna might start beating on her again. Everything had deteriorated so badly that he wasn’t sure what to do. All he knew was that he had to separate the women and ensure they were calmed.
Everything had deteriorated rapidly.
“Dash?” Aston burst in through the tent, crashing into the back of Dashiell. “What is all the shouting about? What happened?”
Dashiell looked over his shoulder at the man. “Where is Clayton?”
“In your tent as you requested. He has twelve guards on him and he is bound hand and foot. He is not going anywhere.”
“He is secure?”
“Most definitely.”
Dashiell directed Acacia over to the edge of the tent and pushed her down on a small chair. “Sit,” he commanded softly. “Do not move. Do you understand me?”
Acacia simply cried, not acknowledging him, so he hesitantly released her. When she didn’t try to run, he returned to Aston and lowered his voice.
“We cannot remain here,” he muttered. “Everyone is in turmoil; Clayton, the sisters, the duke – everyone. The celebration has turned into chaos for us and I cannot, in good conscience, remain. We must return home immediately.”
Aston eyed Belladonna and Acacia at opposite ends of the tent, weeping. “What happened?” he asked, confused. “What was all the shouting about?”
Dashiell simply shook his head. “Later,” he said quietly. “Pass the word. We are moving out immediately.”
“What about Lord Chadlington?”
“I will make up an excuse. Go and do as you are told.”
Aston quit the tent without another word, heading out into the bright blue day beyond. On what should have been a beautiful day of celebration, for the party from Ramsbury, it turned into something pivotal. Clayton was under restraints, Acacia was hysterical, Lily had just found out her husband was bedding her sister, and Belladonna…
Dashiell looked at Belladonna, sitting on the unbroken stool with her back to him. She was calmer now, quietly wiping her tears away, and his heart genuinely broke for her. She’d been so excited for this celebration and it had all gone so terribly wrong. Everything had spiraled out of control.
Dashiell could only hope that returning to Ramsbury, and the sense of peace they would have without Clayton on the prowl, would make up for a most disturbing and eventful trip to Chadlington.
Now, everything had changed.