CHAPTER FIVE
“If you are coming with me, then hurry!”
Belladonna was prepared to go into town, waiting impatiently for Acacia, who had wanted to accompany her. But Acacia was dragging her feet, finding other things to occupy her time, and Belladonna’s patience was at an end. Just as she turned for the stairwell to go down to the bailey, Lily rushed up behind her.
“I am going with you,” she said. “I must see the merchant who has threads and sewing kits.”
Belladonna looked at her sister, who was fully dressed for travel.
“You knew I was going?” she asked.
Lily pulled on her gloves. “I heard you ask Acacia. She has no need to go with you, but I do.”
Belladonna didn’t say what she was thinking – Bentley is escorting me. She knew that Bentley and Lily mostly avoided each other these days, for their own sanity, but in that understanding was something Belladonna found interesting. By watching the pair, perhaps she, too, could learn to live alongside a man she loved, a man she could never have.
Perhaps, this journey into the village would be a good thing for her to experience.
Therefore, she said nothing as she made her way down the narrow stairwell and into the foyer of the keep. It was a cavernous area, two-storied, that always smelled of damp earth for some reason. With Lily beside her, Belladonna made her way out to the bailey beyond.
As promised, Bentley was waiting. He’d pulled together a four-man escort and a small gray palfrey for Belladonna to ride on. When he saw Lily with her, a flicker of surprise crossed his features and he snapped at one of the men to rush to the stables and prepare another palfrey.
Lily, too, rippled with surprise when she saw Bentley at the head of the escort. Arm looped through Belladonna’s, she slowed her pace.
“You could have told me he was your escort,” she muttered.
Belladonna’s eyes were on Bentley, who pretended to be busy with other things. “You did not ask,” she said. “Besides… he is here all of the time, Lily, and you two are able to co-exist. Surely a small trip into town will not be an issue.”
Lily simply shook her head and looked away, unwilling to reply. In truth, she was secretly glad that Bentley was going with them. Belladonna was pleased her sister wasn’t going to make a fuss about it until a big man in big armor, astride an enormous red warhorse, suddenly rode into view.
Dashiell appeared.
“They are bringing the second palfrey about,” he said to Bentley. “You only have four men for the escort party?”
Bentley nodded. “I did not think we needed any more with two knights riding escort.”
Dashiell simply nodded; it was clear he was coming along. Belladonna’s heart sank into the pit of her stomach as she realized it. Here she was, so smug about putting Lily with a man she did not wish to be around, and now Dashiell had appeared to make her feel as uncomfortable as Lily did with Bentley.
Somewhere, God was punishing her for being cruel to her sister and expecting her to tolerate a situation that Belladonna was unwilling to tolerate herself. With a faint sigh, one for strength, she resigned herself to a miserable, tension-filled trip into town. She hadn’t invited Dashiell to escort her, so why was he here?
Letting go of Lily, Belladonna marched up to Dashiell aboard his snappish charger. “Sir Dashiell,” she said, addressing him quite formally. “What are you doing here? I have only asked Bentley to accompany me. Your presence was not requested.”
Dashiell was well aware of that. And he could hear from the tone of her voice that she was still quite angry with him.
That was precisely why he was here.
A drunken, unhappy night followed by an unpleasant encounter with her this morning had forced him into joining the escort when Bentley told him about it. He still had a raging headache, and he’d put the new recruits he was supposed to manage in Aston’s care, but he wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to be with Belladonna and, hopefully, ease her anger against him. Even if he couldn’t be honest with her, at the very least, he couldn’t stand that she was angry at him.
But he could see it was going to be a tough fight.
“Because you warrant such protection, my lady,” he said after a moment.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You should not bother. I would not wish to cause you shame to be seen with me.”
Dashiell stared at her a moment before lifting his visor, peering down at her. “I have never said any such thing, my lady, nor would I ever.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do not make it seem as if I misunderstood you,” she hissed. “You made your position plain enough last night. Now I am making mine.”
“And what is your position?”
“I do not want you to go.”
“And I do not care what you want. Two daughters of the duke warrant two knights as protection.”
She took a few steps closer, avoiding the horse when it swung its big head. “Then you protect my sister,” she said, her voice low and unhappy. “Do not talk to me. Do not even look at me. Pretend I am not here. Bentley will serve my needs. At least he is not ashamed to be seen with me.”
With that, she turned on her heel and marched back to Lily, who was waiting near the escort.
Dashiell watched her go, feeling frustrated and hurt. Clearly, she took what he said last night and stewed on it, creating an even bigger situation this morning. He wondered if she would even listen to him if he tried to defend himself and clarify what he meant.
Lily…
He would be guarding Lily, it seemed, and Lily was a sweet woman. He’d always liked her. And she was very close to Belladonna.
Perhaps, if he told Lily what had happened, she might be a liaison between him and Belladonna. He felt like a fool for thinking such a thing but, at the moment, he was desperate. Even if he and Belladonna could never be together, that didn’t mean he wanted her to hate him for the rest of her life.
He had to make it right.
It was frightfully cold as the party from Ramsbury made its way to the bustling town of Marlborough, a mere seven miles from Ramsbury Castle and part of the duke’s properties. It had a castle, called The Mound by the locals, that had been a royal hunting lodge and residence until the falling out with John, who was quite unhappy to have lost it to the Duke of Savernake when the man overran the property and captured it.
Dashiell had led that particular siege, which saw the aged castle fall in a day and a night. Even now, he had Savernake men stationed there. John had a fondness for Marlborough and he’d even married his first wife at the castle. Because of the royal connections to the town, Dashiell was particularly protective over it and he was looking at the visit to Marlborough as a necessary trip to check on the both the town and the garrison. He wanted to ensure everything was in order.
The day remained clear as the party made its way along the muddy road. They were surrounded by gently rolling hills, a few dead trees, and the River Kennet to the south. The four soldiers rode in a square formation, with a man at each corner, while the women rode in the middle. Dashiell was in the front, at point, while Bentley brought up the rear, and there was absolutely no conversation at all since leaving Ramsbury.
It was a somber little group. Truth be told, Belladonna was feeling awkward riding in such tense silence. She could see Dashiell up ahead on his flaming red horse and, in secret, she watched his every move. He had the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen, made broader and bigger by the protection he wore. He had a mail coat on, with a tunic bearing the shield of Savernake on it – a white background with black, crimson, and yellow colors on a tunic the overall color of crimson.
It was a recognizable shield, and all of the men in the party were wearing their Savernake tunics. Lily was wearing a travel dress made of dark red wool while Belladonna wore a brown woolen garment with golden trim and tight sleeves to keep out the cold. She’d been rather pleased with her reflection in the mirror before leaving Ramsbury, thinking she looked somewhat pretty.
Not that it mattered, however. Dashiell wouldn’t notice or even care.
“Well,” Lily finally muttered, breaking the silence. “This is a cozy little group. I’d find more frivolity in a graveyard.”
Belladonna turned to her sister. “You did not have to come,” she reminded her. “Why did Acacia not come? She told me she wanted to.”
Lily shrugged. “Because spending money is a sin,” she said sarcastically. “You know that everything is a sin with her. Thinking about sin is a sin. We are all going to hell, Bella.”
Belladonna fought off a grin. “She is simply preparing for the mentality of the abbey,” she said. “I do not take her too seriously when she tells me that my vanity is a sin.”
Lily snorted. “What sin? And what vanity? Bella, you have no vanity. I’ve never met such a beautiful woman who had no vanity about it.”
Belladonna’s smile faded and she looked away. “There is no point.”
“What do you mean?”
“The only person I would have see my beauty cares not for it, or for me.”
Lily was listening with interest. “What are you talking about?”
Belladonna shook her head, unwilling to elaborate with four big-eared soldiers around and Dashiell several yards ahead.
“It does not matter.”
“What happened?” Lily asked. Then, she leaned over towards her sister and whispered. “Has something happened with Dash?”
Belladonna shushed her, glancing around to make sure no one had heard. Dash. Just the mention of the man’s name set her heart to racing.
“Well,” she whispered reluctantly. “I suppose I have found my answer after all of these years.”
“What answer?”
Belladonna was trying to keep her voice down. “You know how he will not address me by my name any longer.”
“I know. You have told me.”
“He used to address me by my name constantly when I was younger but once I became of age, he no longer did it.”
“And?”
“And I asked him why. He told me it was because he did not want to compromise my reputation.”
Lily lifted her eyebrows as if expecting more of an answer. “What else?”
Belladonna frowned. “And when I asked him if he would escort me to Jillayne Chadlington’s party, he told me he was ashamed to be seen with me.”
Lily’s mouth popped open. “He didn’t!”
“He did. He said that if he was my escort, people would see us together and he intimated that it would be a terrible thing.”
Lily could hardly believe it. That wasn’t the Dashiell she’d known all these years. The man she’d known was gruff, sometimes quite mean, and very intimidating, but the moment Belladonna wandered into his orbit, he turned into a lamb. Only for Belladonna did he do that. Her youngest sister had such power over the man; anyone could see that. Anyone but Belladonna. Nay, she didn’t believe Dashiell could have said such a thing to her sister.
“I cannot comprehend that he should say such a thing,” she finally said. “That does not sound like him at all.”
Belladonna lowered her gaze, looking off to the side of the road where puddles of water had formed. “Clearly, there is nothing more to say,” she said. “It matters not how I feel anymore, Lil. He has made his wishes plain.”
Lily still couldn’t believe it. More than that, it angered her. Did Dashiell truly intimate that being seen with Belladonna would embarrass him? Her beautiful, spirited sister had loved him for as long as she could recall. Even as a young girl, she adored Dashiell as she adored no one else. Their father, Edward, had been aware of it before his mind was robbed of its ability to think properly, and Lily was certain that Edward had approved of the match. The man loved Dashiell like a son.
And Dashiell had clearly been mad for Belladonna, but all of that seemed to change, however, when she came of age. He was polite to Belladonna, and there were times when they were still companionable, but it was as if Dashiell had a wall up, a wall preventing him from becoming too close to Belladonna. It was propriety, of course, but there was something more to it.
Perhaps, it was time to find out what that was.
Digging her heels into the side of her palfrey, Lily urged the little horse forward, away from her sister as Belladonna hissed at her. She could hear her sister, begging her to stop, but Lily wouldn’t listen. She wanted to know first-hand if Dashiell had insulted her sister. If he had, then she was going to give him a telling off. But if not…
Surely, it was a misunderstanding.
Dashiell’s fat warhorse tried to snap at the little palfrey as Lily rode alongside him. Dashiell cuffed the horse on the neck, nearly the only thing capable of settling the big horse down.
“My apologies, my lady,” he said. “I should have muzzled him. He tends to snap at anything that moves. It is the battle horse in him.”
Lily smiled weakly. “No harm done,” she said. She was coming to realize that she should probably lead up to her interrogation, so she shielded her eyes from the sun and casually looked at the road ahead. “How long until we reach Marlborough?”
Dashiell turned to the road. “You can probably tell me better than I can tell you,” he said, jesting with her. “You have been to Marlborough more than anyone at Ramsbury. They should start calling the town Lily-borough.”
Lily’s smile turned real. “It is well and good that I go to Marlborough more than anyone, since I am chatelaine at Ramsbury,” she said. “I am the one who does the buying for your fine feasts.”
“Indeed you do, my lady.”
Silence fell between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Lily eyed him as she summoned the courage to speak.
“Dash,” she finally said. “I must ask you something.”
“Anything, my lady.”
“And you promise to tell me the truth?”
“Of course, my lady. Upon my oath, I would never lie to you.”
“Good.” She paused. “Did you tell Belladonna that you would be embarrassed to be seen with her?”
Dashiell looked at her. He wasn’t particularly surprised by the question. In fact, he welcomed it – God, did he welcome it! He’d already been planning to speak to Lily about Belladonna, asking for the woman’s help to soothe whatever tension was between them, so her question was like a gift from God.
Carefully, he answered, wanting to make it very clear that he held no such opinion of Belladonna.
“Absolutely not, my lady,” he said. “Although, I can understand how she could misunderstand what I said. Truly, I was only thinking of her reputation and the fact that she would surely be more comfortable with a man who was closer to her own age.”
Lily could read the sincerity on his face. There was much she wanted to say but wasn’t sure how to say it.
“Then… then being seen with my sister does not cause you shame?”
“God, no,” he said as if it were the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. Realizing how he’d sounded, he added quickly, “My lady.”
Lily smoothed at her dark hair, blowing in the cold breeze, before turning to glance at her sister, far back in the pack. Belladonna was watching her with great anxiety. She sighed heavily.
“If Belladonna knew I was speaking to you about this, she would disown me,” she said. “What I am about to say is in the greatest confidence, Dash. Will you treat it that way?”
Dashiell nodded seriously. “Upon my life, I will. Is something wrong?”
Lily shook her head. “I do not think so,” she said. “But I do not really know. Dash, I must know something.”
“All you need do is ask.”
“Would you…” she began, then stopped. She started again. “Would you have any interest in my sister beyond that of mere friendship? Or does a romance with my sister not appeal to you?”
For the first time in his life, Dashiell thought he might blush. He could feel his cheeks growing hot and he was absolutely mortified. Thank God for the mail hood that covered up a good portion of his face or Lily would have seen that he was flushing like a young squire.
“I… God’s Blood,” he muttered, trying to regain his composure. “I am an old man, Lady le Cairon. No young lady in her right mind would consider a romance with me. I am too old for such things.”
Lily was watching him closely; he seemed nervous when speaking on the subject. Or enraged. “Are you angry at me for asking?”
“Of course not, my lady.”
“May I ask if anything would change your mind?”
“You may ask, but I truthfully do not know. What could possibly change the facts?”
“What if I were to tell you that my sister is… fond of you.”
He looked at her then, his cheeks so red that he was beginning to sweat. “Your sister and I have long been fond of one another,” he said. “We have been friends since my arrival to Ramsbury.”
Lily shook her head, looking at him pointedly. “Nay, Dash, not fond as in friendship,” she said. “Fond as in… as in fond. Very fond. She is partial to you, Dash. Do you get my meaning now?”
Dashiell could hardly believe what he was hearing. Certainly, he grasped her meaning, but it simply wasn’t possible. It was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.
“You… you must be mistaken,” he stammered.
Lily sighed sharply. “God’s Toes, Dash. She’s in love with you. Is that plain enough?”
If Dashiell was astonished before, he was so stunned at the revelation that one could have knocked him off his horse with a feather. He stared at Lily as if she had frogs coming out of her ears.
“She… she…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it. Then, he burst out in a loud snap. “What?”
Lily shushed him, knowing that surely her sister would have heard his tone. “Be quiet,” she hissed. “Do you want everyone to hear? Listen to me well, du Reims – my sister is in love with you. She has been for years. But she does not think you feel the same. If you do, then you had better make your feelings known to her. She is convinced you are disgusted at the mere sight of her. One cannot love a man and not… have him, Dash. It consumes the soul.”
She sobered suddenly, thoughts of Bentley filling her brain. As she looked at Dashiell, who seemed to have lost the ability to speak, she offered a few final, and painful, words.
“If you do not love her, then tell me and I shall tell her myself,” she muttered. “You need not worry about trying to ease her heart. But if you do love her… Dash, the worst thing in the world you can do is not tell her. At least let her be happy. You must be happy, too.”
With that, she pulled back on the reins of her palfrey, turning around to rejoin her sister, leaving Dashiell feeling as if a great boulder had just been dropped on him. He could hardly breathe for the weight of it upon his chest. But it was more than the weight of the news – it was the disbelief. He felt as if he were living a dream.
Was it really true? Did Belladonna truly have feelings for him?
God, what had he done in his life to deserve the woman’s love? Sweet, gentle, and beautiful Belladonna had feelings for him. Love, Lily had said. Nay… this had to be a dream, because there was no world in which a woman like Belladonna would love him.
It simply wasn’t possible.
… but, Bloody Hell… it was!
Dashiell didn’t even realize that, at that moment, his eyes were full of unshed tears of joy.
It was the best day of his life.
“I know you told him something,” Belladonna hissed at her sister. “What did you tell him to make him yell like that?”
They were entering the outskirts of Marlborough, passing by farmers in their fields, and the wattle and daub huts that made up the fringe of the city. Ever since Lily had indulged in the private conversation with Dashiell, which had been about twenty minutes earlier, Belladonna was hounding her sister about the discussion and Lily was finding other things to talk about.
Finally, Belladonna had enough of her sister’s evasiveness.
“If you do not tell me what you said to Dash, I swear I will run right to Bent and tell him every single thing that is in your heart,” she threatened. “Do you hear me?”
That drew a reaction from Lily. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Are you certain of that?”
The line was drawn as Lily tried to determine if her sister was bluffing but, knowing Belladonna, she wasn’t. She didn’t bluff.
“I simply told him how unhappy I was with his behavior,” she said. “Must you really ask me, Bella? What in the world do you think I would really say to him?”
Belladonna had suspected all along what her sister had done. She’d had time to prepare for that possibility, and she wasn’t entirely sure that she was peeved by it. Secretly, she was glad her sister had run straight to Dashiell to give him a tongue lashing on her behalf.
“So you told him that I told you what happened,” she said. “Did you berate him?”
“Of course I did.”
“And what did he say? Did he beg for forgiveness?”
Lily eyed her. “In a way,” she said. “He said that although he understood how you could have misinterpreted what he’d said, he told me that he never meant to insinuate he was ashamed to be seen with you.”
Belladonna frowned. “But he said…”
Lily cut her off. “Do you really think he would say such a thing to you, Bella? Think. We are speaking of Dash du Reims. The man would simply never insult you, so I do not know why you are carrying on so.”
Belladonna shut her mouth, feeling scolded. She’d expected Lily’s support because Lily was always quite reasonable, so for her sister to rebuke her so was a blow to Belladonna’s anger. It was clear that Lily believed Dashiell, so if Lily believed him… then perhaps Belladonna was simply reacting to the fact that Dashiell had rejected her request to escort her to the party and nothing more.
It was her hurt clouding her judgment.
But she didn’t want to be scolded any longer, so she pulled her palfrey to a halt, letting Lily and the escort party move past. Turning her palfrey around, she went to the rear where Bentley was riding astride his big, hairy beast of a horse. Belladonna reined her little palfrey alongside as Bentley smiled politely at her.
“We are nearly to town, my lady,” he said pleasantly. “Where will our first stop be?”
Belladonna pondered the coming market and the stalls she usually visited. “The merchant with all manner of scarves and shawls,” she said. “You know the man – the one who has a wench dance in front of his stall to attract customers.”
Bentley’s smile turned into a frown. “Your father told you to stay away from that merchant. The woman who dances with his merchandise has been known to… well, sometimes men return for her. I will say no more.”
Belladonna’s gloomy mood lifted at Bentley’s prim response. “Father told me to stay away from it in the days when he could remember what he’d said,” she replied. “He cannot remember that he told me to stay away from it and even if you told him that I disobeyed him, it would not mean anything to him.”
Bentley gave her an expression suggesting he didn’t like her choice in merchants. “Very well,” he muttered. “Does Dash know?”
“He will do what I tell him to do.”
“Indeed, he will, but I do not believe he wants you going to that merchant, either.”
“But he has the most beautiful things in town,” Belladonna insisted. “That is where I intend to go.”
She said it with finality and Bentley had no choice but to bow to her wishes. He sighed heavily. “As you say, my lady.”
They were traveling closer to the heart of town now, passing through small neighborhoods with the houses packed close together. Children played in the gutters and dogs ran about, barking. The smell of human habitation was strong as they passed down the muddied street and into the main market area of Marlborough.
It was a bustling berg, full of people going about their business. The king had given Marlborough a license for a market and they held one every seventh day of the week, which happened to be today. Therefore, it was quite crowded as they emerged onto the main road, which was wide and sloped slightly to the south. Mud and water gathered on the south side of the avenue, causing the merchants on that side to keep up makeshift barriers to keep the moisture out of their stalls.
The sights and sounds of the town filled Belladonna and her thoughts turned from her scolding sister, and Bentley’s prudish opinions, to the very merchant in question. He was down towards the middle of the block, on the corner of a large alley that cut north and south. She spurred her palfrey away from Bentley and towards the front of the escort. She trotted past Lily, through the front two soldiers, and straight past Dashiell.
Dashiell watched with some curiosity as she went right to the merchant with all manner of silken scarves hanging from the eaves of his roof. They blew in the wind in a colorful display. But he quickly realized which merchant Belladonna had selected when he saw not only one dancing woman out front, but two. The women were undulating in beautiful clothing, with lovely accessories, to lure in the females in town and their purses.
Like a moth to the flame, Belladonna went straight for the gyrating women. It was like a siren’s call, one she could not resist. She didn’t wait for any help to dismount her palfrey; she practically leapt off and rushed into the large merchant stall.
As she disappeared inside, Dashiell brought the escort up behind her. One of the soldiers took the reins of her palfrey as Dashiell dismounted his warhorse. Removing the muzzle from his saddlebags, he placed the device over the horse’s snout and secured it so the beast wouldn’t try to gnash anyone. As he handed the reins over to another soldier, Bentley came up behind him.
“Shall I follow Lady Belladonna?” he asked.
The dancing girls were getting a little too close and Dashiell ignored them, even as they waved silken scarves in his face. One hit him on the cheek.
“Nay,” he said, pulling tight his gloves. “I will go with her. You remain with Lady le Cairon. See if there is another merchant she would like to visit, for the look upon her face suggests she wants nothing to do with her sister’s choice.”
Both Dashiell and Bentley glanced over at Lily, who was still seated upon her palfrey, now with a scowl upon her face. As Bentley nodded, Dashiell pushed past the dancing girls trying to get his attention and into the merchant stall beyond.
It was dark inside, smelling heavily of incense and exotic fragrances. They pulled at Dashiell’s nose but he fought it, not wanting to sneeze all over the place. Often, in the springtime when things were blooming, he could sneeze hard enough to give himself a headache, so he had that sensitivity with smells. Around him, tables contained piles of neatly arranged merchandise and in spite of the questionable dancing women out front, the place was packed with proper women shopping for something beautiful and unusual.
Dashiell caught sight of Belladonna near the rear of the stall. She was standing with the merchant himself, a round man who wore colorful clothing and a wrap upon his head that glistened with gold. He was an unusual character and not from England, as one could tell simply by listening to him speak. He had a very odd accent.
And he was quite solicitous to Belladonna, which didn’t sit well with Dashiell. He didn’t like to see another man being so attentive. As he approached the pair, mail grating and sword rattling, the merchant heard him coming and turned in his direction.
It didn’t take a great intellect to see that the knight only had eyes for the lady who was now holding up a pale green silk scarf, embroidered with golden thread. The merchant smiled broadly as he pointed to Belladonna, who was holding the scarf against her skin to better inspect the color.
“Ah, my lord,” he said, rather loudly. “Is your wife not beautiful in this color? I have told her that green is the color of angels. They surely will be jealous if she wears such a thing. And she will be the best-dressed wife in all of Wiltshire, I promise. And this!” He suddenly reached over and picked up another scarf, made with silk and strips of a very expensive and very rare fabric called velvet sewn into it. “She will be the most beautiful woman in all of England with this!”
Dashiell was watching the man drape the fabric over Belladonna’s slender shoulders. He was rather caught off guard by the man assuming that Belladonna was his wife, but God… it hit him where it hurt.
Lo, that he wished he could claim such a thing.
After what Lily had told him, he seemed to be looking at Belladonna through new eyes. There was more hope in his heart than there had ever been. But before he could speak, Belladonna pulled the scarf from her shoulders and tossed it back onto the table.
“Do not ask him,” she told the merchant. “He cares not what I look like, so you would do better asking a horse.”
The merchant appeared uncertain with her comments, wondering if something was amiss between the lady and her knight. He started to pull forth other pieces of fabric to show Belladonna, but Dashiell found his tongue.
“Leave us,” he growled at the merchant. “Go find someone else to sell your wares to.”
The merchant wasn’t about to argue with the very muscular, rough-sounding knight. He immediately scampered away as Belladonna looked on with annoyance.
“Why did you do that?” she asked Dashiell. “Bring him back here. I want to see other things. And what are you doing here, anyway? I told you that Bentley would escort me. I would not put you in such a position to have to…”
He cut her off with a quiet but sharp tone. “Enough,” he said. “God’s Bones, woman, when you get fixated on something, you beat it until it is dead and then some. Stop playing the victim to something you think I said to you. You know very well that was not what I meant.”
Belladonna looked at him, but her gaze was guarded. “I know what I heard.”
He sighed sharply. Then, he took the scarf out of her hand and grasped her by the arm, pulling her all the way through the merchant’s stall and out the rear of it, out into a small yard that was surrounded by other stalls.
There were trunks out here, broken barrels, and other things that the surrounding merchants had thrown out until they could be broken down further or repaired. There was a big Yew tree right in the middle of the courtyard and Dashiell dragged her over to it, far enough so that their words couldn’t be heard.
But Belladonna was furious with having been yanked out of the stall. She slapped at Dashiell’s hand until he let her go and even, then, she slapped his arm with frustration.
“How dare you manhandle me like that!” she said angrily.
He cocked an auburn eyebrow at her. “Shut your lips,” he barked quietly. “I have barely been returned to Ramsbury for a day and already, you are throwing fits and I do not even know why. Now, I will tell you that for certain that I never said I was ashamed to be seen with you. Did you truly think I would ever say such a thing to you, Bella?”
Bella. She heard her name come out of his mouth, as it used to when they were the best of friends. It was like throwing water on a fire and almost instantly, her rage was doused. Taking a deep breath, she was able to face him more calmly. Now, the level of conversation between them was more familiar than it had been in a very long time.
All because he called her Bella.
“Then why did you say that you were afraid that people would see us together?” she wanted to know. “People have been seeing us together for years, Dash. What makes Jillayne’s party so different that you should not wish to be my escort?”
She’s in love with you, Dash. Lily’s words were ringing around Dashiell’s head and it was all he could do to stop himself from gushing like a fool. Careful, he told himself. He had to be very careful in his response. But, God, he was so unused to speaking of emotions and feelings, and he was terribly out of practice when it came to wooing a woman. He hadn’t wooed a woman in over twenty years, and that had ended in disaster.
Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he was so hesitant with Belladonna. Years ago, he’d fallen for an allied lord’s daughter. The daughter of Daveigh de Winter of Norwich Castle, Delesse, had been a beautiful young woman who had bewitched him. He’d been fond of her, and told her so, which had worked out fine until a flashy knight named Summerlin from Blackstone Castle had entered the picture and stole her away.
It had been Aston Summerlin’s uncle, and Dashiell had heard that the marriage hadn’t been a pleasant one. But the days of Delesse de Winter still rang in his head sometimes, and Dashiell realized that her rejection had made him far too timid with women. It had for twenty years.
But now, here he was with a chance to change all of that and he was terrified to take it. But if he didn’t at least try, he would never forgive himself.
It was now or never.
“I am going to try and explain my position to you,” he said, “but I apologize if I am not concise. I have never been very good with words and you are aware of that. I can only promise that I will try to explain myself and I hope that you will understand. Will you at least listen to everything before you judge whether or not I cannot stand to be seen with you?”
Belladonna frowned, apprehensive of what she might hear. “I do not think I am going to like this.”
He held up his hand, as if to beg her patience. “You will, if I do not make a fool out of myself first,” he said. “But will you please remember one thing?”
“What?”
“I would sooner throw myself upon my sword than insult you in any fashion. Do you understand?”
Belladonna cocked her head. “I do,” she said. “What must you say?”
He took a deep breath. “I want you to look at me,” he said after a moment. “I am twice your age. My skin is like leather and I certainly am not the most handsome man in town. Can you not see that?”
Her pale gaze studied him as he seriously tried to spell out the way he saw himself. “Nay,” she said finally. “I cannot see that. To me, you will always be Dash, my friend, and the greatest knight Ramsbury has ever seen.”
“I am an old man, Bella.”
“You are ageless.”
That blush in his cheeks threatened again but he fought it. “I wish that was true,” he said. “But now that we have taken a look at me, I want you to look at yourself – you are young and beautiful and vibrant. The young girl I know has grown into a woman of astounding beauty and poise. You are an angel on this earth, Bella.”
His words flattered her and she grinned modestly. “I had no idea you felt that way.”
He was losing the battle against his flush, turning his cheeks ruddy beneath the mail hood. “I have for some time,” he said quietly. “Because of this, that is where my concern comes from if people were to see me as your escort to Jillayne’s party. Can you understand that?”
Belladonna shook her head. “Nay.”
He was becoming flustered. “Because I am old and grizzled, and you are young and beautiful,” he said, trying to make his point. “I… I am afraid that you would be the laughing stock. There are so many other younger, more handsome men who could be your escort, men worthy of such beauty. Instead, you would go with an old man with skin as tough as hide. Now do you understand?”
Belladonna did. Suddenly, his reluctance became clear and her heart about broke. “Oh, Dash,” she breathed. “You think that people would laugh at me because of you?”
“Of course they would. I could not do that to you.”
She sighed heavily. “I… I am so very sorry I became angry with you. I did not know you felt this way.”
“You never gave me a chance to tell you before you were rushing off in a rage.”
She grunted miserably. “I have been known to do that.” Her focus on him was intense. “Dash, I have known you more than half my life. We were such great friends, you and I, until I became of age. Then, you seemed to back away from me, so very quickly. You became so formal with me. It hurt me to lose my dearest friend like that. Can… can you please tell me why you did it? Was it something I said or did to make you unhappy towards me?”
Dashiell could feel his walls of self-protection going down. He was clinging to what Lily had told him, praying that it was true. Gazing into Belladonna’s face at the moment, he could believe it was true. There was something in her eyes, he wanted to believe, that was meant only for him.
Only for him…
“Because you became of marriageable age,” he said simply. “It would have been most improper for me to maintain such a close friendship with you. What would a prospective husband think? It might have damaged your chances for marriage. Unless I am courting you, or we are betrothed, it simply isn’t proper for you and me to have such a close friendship. Surely you understand that.”
Belladonna did, but they were on a subject she’d wanted to bring up with him for four long years. Now, she finally had her answer as to why he’d been so formal with her, why he’d pulled away from her. He felt himself unworthy.
He was anything but unworthy.
Summoning her courage, she spoke.
“You are Dashiell du Reims, Viscount Winterton,” she said softly. “Someday, you shall be the Earl of East Anglia. But even if you were a simple knight, with no past and no future, you would still be Dashiell du Reims, a man whom I’ve adored since I was a girl. You would still be the most worthy man I know. Do you know that when I was younger, I used to pretend that you and I were married?”
He grinned, nervously. “Me?” he said in disbelief. “I am not usually the object of a young maiden’s daydreams.”
“But you were the object of mine.”
“Surely you could have chosen a better husband, even for a dream.”
She laughed quietly. “There is no better man in the whole of England as far as I am concerned,” she said. Then, she sobered quickly, an earnest look crossing her face. “Please, Dash… will you please escort me to Jillayne’s party? I do not care what others think. I only care that we are able to share the time together.”
Of course, he couldn’t resist her. “If that is your wish, then I shall escort you.”
A smile of genuine joy spread across her lips. “And you shall dance every dance with me?”
He was hesitant. “I have not danced in years, Bella. You might come away with a broken foot, or worse.”
“I will help you remember how. Please?”
He seemed to be doing an awful lot of smiling, at least for him. And, he folded to her wishes as if he had no spine, no mind of his own. At that moment, he would have given her the world had she asked for it.
“Aye, my lady, if it is your wish.”
“Good,” she said happily. “Then let us return to the merchant so that I may find some fabric to make you a tunic to match my dress. I am wearing yellow silk, so I shall hunt down something yellow for you. And… Dash?”
He was feeling so giddy at the moment that he was nearly lightheaded with it. “My lady?”
Her focus lingered on him for a moment. “When we go to this party, I will still pretend that we are married,” she said. “It is a dream I have.”
With that, she pushed past him, heading back into the merchant stall and leaving Dashiell feeling as if a great door had just opened up between them.
Somehow, in this brief conversation, they had gone from old and dear friends to something else, something more. It was different between them now; he could feel it. He was looking at her as if there were some hope for more than simple friendship between them and she was looking at him the same way.
He couldn’t stop himself from calling out to her before she entered the stall.
“Bella?”
She came to a halt, turning to look at him. “Are you going to tell me to stop dreaming?”
Oh, God, if he had wings, he would have soared into the heavens with the expression on her face being the wind beneath his wings. He could hardly breathe for the heavy beating of his heart.
“Nay,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear him. “I was going to ask if I can dream with you.”
Belladonna’s face split in two with a smile that lit up the sky. All she did was nod, once, and disappear into the stall.
With a smile all his own, Dashiell followed.