CHAPTER SEVEN
It was nearly sunset when the Belladonna, Dashiell, Lily, and Bentley returned from Marlborough.
Weighed down with merchandise, Dashiell sent the servants into a frenzy as they rushed out to the escort to collect the purchases and take them inside. The final tally had been quite expensive – silk scarves, four cut and loosely basted dresses, hose, hair combs, hair nets, a heavy gold necklace from the goldsmith, and perfume that smelled of flowers.
Most of it was Belladonna’s. Something about having Dashiell by her side had turned her into a spending fool. It had been ages since she’d spent such a happy, carefree day, and all of it with Dashiell by her side. He was never anything other than proper, but there was a gleam in his eyes now when he looked at her, a spark that warmed her heart.
She could hardly believe it.
How long had she dreamed that the man might return her feelings? Her strong, powerful, handsome Dash, a man she felt attached to as she’d never felt attached to anyone, ever. It seemed as if he’d always been part of her life and she knew her father loved him also. Dashiell was the son he’d never had, so she knew her father would have been thrilled with the turn of events.
In fact, she wanted very much to tell him, even if he wouldn’t understand.
As Dashiell and Bentley disbanded the escort, and Lily went to check on the preparations for the evening meal, Belladonna made her way into the keep to see her father. With the sun setting, the servants were beginning to light the torches on the interior of the keep, which could be very dark without a bit of light.
Belladonna passed servants as they lit the fatted torches in the great iron sconces in the entry, heading up the narrow staircase that led to the floor above. Her father’s chamber was there, as was Lily’s and Clayton’s. Lily and Clayton had separate bedchambers but shared a common chamber between them, yet it was a room Lily seldom visited. Clayton had taken it over and the woman wanted nothing to do with it.
Nor did Belladonna. Any place that had Clayton’s stink on it was a place to be avoided. On the level above the entry, she headed for her father’s great cedar door. It was at the end of the corridor, as his room overlooked the bailey. The door was always bolted from the inside, mostly to keep the duke from wandering and, not wanting to disturb the man if he was sleeping, Belladonna slipped into a secondary access passage that was used by the servants.
It was a service passage between chambers and it led to a door that opened up into her father’s chamber, an unobtrusive door for servants to come and go in silence. But the passageway was very dark as she entered it with the only light coming from a cracked-open door that led into Clayton’s chamber.
Belladonna didn’t want to see Clayton. She didn’t know where the man was, and she surely didn’t care, but she had to pass his door in order to get to the one leading into her father’s chamber. Quietly, she slipped up to Clayton’s door with the intention of closing it when she heard what sounded like a cry of pain.
Startled, Belladonna instinctively peered into the crack in the door to see what was happening in the chamber. A second cry of pain was most concerning, and as her gaze fell on the semi-darkened chamber, she could see movement on the bed beyond.
The coverlet was on the floor and she could see the back of Clayton has he knelt upon the bed. It took Belladonna all of a split second to realize the man was naked and clearly having sex with a woman other than her sister. The cries of pain were coming from the woman in his bed, as he had her hair wounded up in his left hand, tugging on it as he thrust into her from behind. The woman was on her hands and knees, and Clayton was slapping his body against hers.
The smacking sound of flesh was sickening.
When she realized what she was seeing, Belladonna was overcome with shock and disgust. She was about to turn away for, certainly, this was a memory she was going to try for the rest of her life to forget, when Clayton yanked on the woman’s hair again and pulled her into a semi-upright position. That was when Belladonna realized that she knew the woman.
It was Acacia.
Belladonna slapped both of her hands over her mouth, muffling the cry of astonishment when she realized that Clayton was bedding her middle sister. He let go of her hair, now holding her by both arms as he pounded into her body while Acacia groaned and cried.
Clearly, whatever was happening was against her will and Belladonna was preparing to rush into the room and brain Clayton over the back of the head with whatever weapon she could find. She was so stunned and horrified that her entire body was tingling; she knew that she had to save Acacia from Clayton’s barbaric attack. But as she put her hand on the door to yank it open, fully prepared to risk her life to save Acacia, her sister put both of her hands up and touched Clayton’s face as he leaned over to nibble her white shoulder.
“I lied,” she said in a tone Belladonna had never heard her use before. “I did miss you while you were away. I missed you dreadfully.”
Clayton’s response was to bite down on her flesh again, causing her to gasp. But it wasn’t a gasp of pain or fear; it was one of pleasure.
Confused, Belladonna refrained from rushing into the room because the situation was becoming clear – whatever was happening, Acacia seemed to be a willing accomplice. This was no forced sex, no rape. Acacia was actively participating.
Hand still on her mouth, Belladonna stumbled away from the cracked door, shocked to the bone. It was beyond belief; prim and deeply devout Acacia was having sexual relations with Clayton, and willingly doing so. The reality of it hit her like a battering ram.
Belladonna truly thought she might vomit.
Somehow, she found her way out of the passage, heading back down the narrow stairs and into the now brightly-lit entry. But she didn’t stop there. Her hands were still on her mouth as she fled the keep, out into the dusk, where the last of the escort party was being dissolved. Bentley had left the area, but Dashiell was still there.
Belladonna headed right for him.
Dashiell hadn’t seen her coming. He was talking to one of the soldiers in the escort, a seasoned man who had seen many years of service with Savernake. They weren’t discussing the trip into Marlborough, in fact, but the new recruits that were now bedding down for the night in the big training area over near the stables.
The smoke from the cooking fires was already filling the air and Dashiell was commenting on the rag-tag look of the latest recruits. His first clue that someone was coming up behind him was when the old soldier seemed to be looking over his shoulder and not directly at him. That made Dashiell turn around.
Belladonna had her hands over her mouth and was walking very quickly with her head lowered. As the old soldier left to go about his duties, Dashiell reached out to Belladonna when she came near. The moment he grasped her arm, however, she burst into quiet, hysterical tears.
Dashiell was gravely concerned. “Bella?” he asked. “What is wrong? Are you ill?”
Belladonna couldn’t even speak. She was nodding her head, unsteadily, but she was sobbing so heavily that Dashiell couldn’t make heads or tails out of what she was trying to say. He tried to pull her back over to the keep so they could speak somewhere in private, but she shook her head violently and yanked away from him. Having no idea what to do, Dashiell began to pull her with him, walking in the direction of the troop house and the knight’s quarters in the hopes of calming the woman down.
“Bella,” he whispered anxiously. “What has happened? Is it your father?”
She shook her head, which gave him some relief. For a moment, he’d been concerned that something had befallen the duke. He continued walking with her, his hand on her arm but refraining from trying to give her any comfort, at least not out in the open for all to see. She was clearly devastated about something and he was desperate to know what it was.
They walked until they passed into the shadow of the great curtain wall and Dashiell saw an opportunity for some privacy. By the time he pulled her over into the darkened area by the wall, she was only slightly less hysterical. Dashiell faced her with great concern.
“Will you tell me what happened?” he asked gently.
She spoke hesitantly. “Oh, Dash,” she sobbed. “It… it was terrible!”
“What was terrible, lamb?”
Belladonna was so upset that she didn’t even notice he’d used his pet name for her. It had been years since he’d done that and had she been in her right mind, it would have thrilled her. But, at the moment, she couldn’t shake the horrific vision she’d just encountered. It was all she could focus on.
“I-I went to see my father,” she said, swallowing hard and laboring to breathe. “I-I wanted to check on him to see if his day had been a good one. I was going to use the servant’s passage so I could slip in without disturbing him, but when I went into the passage, I saw that Clayton’s door was partially open.”
Dashiell suddenly tensed, his grip on her tightening. “Did Clayton do something to you?”
She shook her head because he looked so terribly fearsome at that moment. He frightened her. “Nay,” she said quickly. “Not me. But I saw… I saw…”
She was off on a crying jag again, weeping into her hand. Although Dashiell was glad for Clayton’s sake that the man hadn’t done anything to Belladonna, still, he was deeply curious to know what had her so upset.
“What did you see?” he asked.
Belladonna looked up at him with big, watery eyes. “It is so horrible, I am ashamed to tell you.”
“Please. I only want to help.”
She took a deep breath as she once again faced a memory she was having a difficult time accepting.
“I saw Acacia,” she finally whispered. “She was… with Clayton.”
Dashiell didn’t quite understand what she was telling him. “With him?” he repeated. “What do you mean?”
Belladonna fixed him in the eyes, deeply ashamed that she was voicing a most unsettling vision. “In his bed,” she murmured. “He was… bedding her.”
The impact of the words hit Dashiell, washing over him like the ripples in a pond. He went from concerned to astounded all in the blink of an eye. But he didn’t react outwardly; he was very good at concealing his emotions, something that served him well in battle and when dealing with men. It was never good for men to know what one was feeling, and Dashiell clung hard to that opinion.
But now… now he hid his shock because Belladonna was already overwrought. Should he become upset, it would only fuel her hysteria. Truth be told, he wasn’t surprised to hear any of this, at least not about Clayton. The man was lower than dirt in his opinion, so to bed Acacia… Clayton had taken himself to new levels of degradation as far as Dashiell was concerned.
The man with limited character had now become immoral, as well.
“I see,” he said, his voice calm and even. The hand on her arm began caressing her, comfortingly. “There was no mistake, Bella? The keep can be dark and…”
She cut him off, shaking her head. “I heard her before I even saw her,” she said, repulsed by the memory. “She was crying, so I peeked into the chamber to see if someone was injured and saw her as he… I cannot even speak of it, Dash. It is too shameful.”
He understood. For her to see something like that, as a woman who had never experienced such intimacy on her own, must have surely been shocking. It was probably even off-putting. His other hand came up and he held her in his gentle grip as she struggled to regain her composure.
“There is no need for you to speak of it to me, or to anyone,” he said. “But I am glad that you trusted me enough to tell me. Did Clayton see you?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Neither one of them saw me.”
Dashiell sighed faintly, thinking on the greater implications of the situation. Belladonna had evidently stumbled across a secret and, knowing Clayton, he wouldn’t take kindly if he discovered that his indiscretions were known.
Clayton was already an unpredictable man by nature. And as Dashiell once said to Belladonna, he had to fight with the man in battle and needed to keep the peace between them, but this… given that he already thought the man was scum, it was going to be increasingly difficult not to let his emotions overcome his judgment.
“It is good that you were not seen,” he said. “But allow me to explain something to you. You and I are in possession of knowledge that I am sure Clayton does not wish to be widely known. Not only would it shame Lady le Cairon, but I am sure Clayton would be quite irate at you for having seen something you should not have seen. I do not want his venom turned on you, for we already know you are on his mind. If he knows what you have seen, it might make the situation… worse.”
Belladonna wiped the last of her tears away, feeling comforted by Dashiell’s calming manner. But his words concerned and confused her.
“Certainly, I would never say anything to anyone,” she said. “I would never dream of humiliating Lily like that. But I do not understand why Acacia… how could she do such a thing?”
Dashiell was wondering the same thing of the militantly pious sister. “I do not know,” he said, caressing her arms and not even realizing he was doing it. It seemed the most natural of things to do. “The woman is supposed to join Amesbury next month, so to do something like this… I will admit, I am baffled.”
Now that the shock of what she’d seen was wearing off, Belladonna was becoming aware of his tender touch, rubbing her arms gently to comfort her. It was enough to set her heart to racing.
“She is the one to tell us that every thought we have is a sin,” she said. “If I long for a hair ribbon, Acacia tells me that it is a sin to want for earthly treasures. If Lily raises her voice, then Acacia will say it is a sin for her to be cruel. Everything is a sin to her, so I do not understand how… why… she would do this with her own sister’s husband. The more I think on it, the angrier I become.”
Dashiell lifted an eyebrow. “You are angry for the shame she shall bring upon Lady le Cairon, and that is understandable,” he said. “But you are not angry because Lily has feelings for her husband. Remove the shame from the situation and there is nothing left. It is not as if Acacia is hurting Lily in any way.”
Belladonna shook her head, reluctantly. “Nay,” she admitted. “Lily cannot stand the sight of Clayton. She cringes every time… well, every time he touches her. She has told me so.”
Dashiell grunted. “As a normal woman would,” he muttered. Then, he realized he’d gravely insulted Acacia in that statement. “What I mean to say is that he has not exactly been kind to Lady le Cairon. You can see that there is no love lost between them.”
“But he will be the duke when my father dies,” Belladonna whispered, closing her eyes at the horrific thought. “Dash, what is going to happen when he becomes the duke? It will be hell to live here. I will not let him do to me what he’s done to Acacia!”
Dashiell looked at her, quite seriously. “I will kill him if he tries,” he rumbled. “Make no mistake, Bella. If he so much as looks in your direction, I will kill him.”
The conversation was taking a distinct turn from what Belladonna had witnessed to Dashiell’s rather strong declaration. Belladonna’s thoughts returned to the merchant’s yard and how she’d told him she would still dream that they were married. He asked if he could dream with her.
Perhaps it was bold of her to think there was something more to a simple escort to a party, but she very much wanted to believe so. His threat to kill Clayton made her believe that maybe – just maybe – there was something more.
“That is sweet of you to be so chivalrous, but if he is the duke, he can act upon his wishes and I will have little to say in the matter,” she said. “I was thinking, Dash… do you believe he is serious about marrying me to this Lord Sherston? He said as much last night.”
That subject rubbed Dashiell the wrong way. The mention of a marriage between Belladonna and Anthony Cromford was enough to fill his veins with anger. He’d been furious about it last night and he was still furious about it today. But those same words Christopher had spoken to him kept rolling around in his head…
Can you really stand the thought of her being someone else’s wife?
Gazing down at Belladonna, he knew he couldn’t. He’d spent the past four years dodging around the subject of his feelings for her, of feeling unworthy of such a woman. But Lily’s words to him today had changed everything.
She’s in love with you, Dash.
God knows, he was in love with her, too. Perhaps it was time to finally show some courage. It had been successful in the merchant’s yard so, perhaps, that streak of good fortune would continue where Belladonna was concerned.
“He may be serious, but the match will never happen,” he said. “I would not worry over it if I were you.”
Belladonna’s brow furrowed. “Of course I shall worry over it. I do not wish to marry someone of Clayton’s choosing. Can you imagine the horrible husband he would saddle me with?”
Dashiell gave her a half-grin. “I know Lord Sherston. He is not the bad sort, which makes him a surprising choice for Clayton.”
She stiffened. “I am not going to marry him.”
Dashiell’s eyes twinkled at her in the dim light. “I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I will not let it happen.”
“But how?”
He cocked his head and looked at her. “Tell me something,” he said. “If you could choose any husband in the world, who would it be?”
Now, the question was posed to her, one that would make or break Dashiell. He thought he was rather clever by asking her such a thing. He wanted to hear what she had to say.
But to Belladonna, it was an unexpected question and she found herself scrambling for an answer. Truly, there was only one answer, but she wasn’t sure how Dashiell would take it. Certainly, he’d flirted with her earlier, and even now he was determined to be her guardian and protector, but that didn’t mean he wanted to marry her.
… did it?
She was going to find out.
“I told you that I have often pretended you and I were married,” she said. “If I am given a choice, why can I not marry you?”
It was a blunt question she’d turned right around on him. Dashiell no longer thought himself clever for having broached the subject. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that there was no more perfect question in the universe. He was starting to feel giddy again.
“You would choose me?” he asked softly.
Belladonna hesitated a moment before nodding. “You are not married,” she said. “I am not married. Why can we not be married – to each other?”
He realized he was still holding on to her, his hands on her arms. He thought he should probably let her go, for propriety’s sake but, then again, he didn’t want to let her go. His grip tightened.
“Dreaming we are married is one thing,” he said quietly. “The reality is quite another. I am much older than you are.”
“So you’ve told me.”
“As the daughter of a duke, you could command a very fine husband.”
“I will command the Earl of East Anglia.”
She had a point. Dashiell struggled not to let his excitement overrun him. He had to be logical about this.
“And so, you will,” he said. “But, truly… you would want an old man for a husband?”
She hissed at him. “Stop saying that,” she said. “You are handsome and ageless. I have told you this. Dash, if you do not wish to marry me, simply say so. But you said earlier that you wished to dream with me, so I assumed… I thought it was of some interest to you.”
So there it was. He couldn’t jest his way out of it, or try to force her to see just how he viewed himself when it came to her. The mood grew serious.
“You are not saying this simply because you do not want to marry Sherston, are you?” he asked.
She frowned. “You asked me who I would choose to marry. It has nothing to do with Sherston.”
He stared at her a moment before sighing heavily, a sound of sheer disbelief. “My lady,” he said, his voice oddly hoarse. “I cannot put into words how honored I am that you would choose me. Truly, Bella… I wish I could create for you a fine response, but there are no words I can think of that come close to what is in my mind and in my heart. Is marriage to you of some interest to me? It has been since you came of age and I realized how beautiful and witty and compassionate you were. I have long admired you from afar, my lady, and that is why I have kept such a distance from you. It is the truth. But if this is what you wish… then with all my heart, I will agree.”
The truth had been spoken, and Belladonna was feeling so much excitement that she was lightheaded with it. Usually a reserved and rather mature young woman, and certainly not given to whims, she did something at that moment that was completely out of her nature.
Throwing her arms around Dashiell’s neck, she squeezed him tightly.
“Oh, Dash!” she gasped. “I am so happy!”
She nearly pulled him over with the force of her excitement and Dashiell had to put a hand against the stone wall to keep from falling over. But he recovered quickly, laughing low in his throat as he wrapped his big arms around her and held her tightly. Gone was the reserve, the hesitation. Gone were his thoughts of propriety.
Hugging Belladonna – truly embracing her – was the best thing he’d ever done.
“You must speak to my father immediately,” she told him excitedly. “I know he cannot truly understand what you are saying, but you must have a document drawn up for him to sign that proves he agrees to a betrothal. If you do not, I fear that Clayton will steal me away for Sherston.”
Dashiell was only slightly more level-headed than she was. He didn’t let her go as he spoke. “I fear there may be more to it than that,” he said. “I have an errand to run on the morrow. But I will also go to Winchester Cathedral and speak with the priests. Mayhap, they can advise me on how to proceed.”
Belladonna loosened her grip, pulling back to look at the man beneath the moonlight. She’d dreamed of moments like this for so long, and it was difficult for her to realize that what she had hoped and prayed for had finally happened. Dashiell was not only responding to her, but he was holding her… she was in his arms, and it was everything she’d ever imagined it would be.
“Truly?” she breathed. “All the way to Winchester?”
“As I said, I have an errand in the area. It will be no trouble to stop at the cathedral.”
Belladonna was overwhelmed with it all. “Oh, Dash… tell me this is real. I am afraid I am going to wake up and realize it was all but a dream.”
He smiled at her, his big white teeth gleaming beneath his mustache. “I was going to ask you the very same thing.”
“It is real.”
“It is.”
It was her turn to smile broadly. “When will you go to see the priests?”
“I will go tonight if you wish it.”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “Tomorrow is perfect. You will not change your mind, will you?”
He shook his head firmly. “For the chance to marry you? It is the best thing I could have ever hoped for.”
Belladonna was so excited that she was twitching, nodding her head and giggling. Her laughter caused Dashiell to chuckle.
“It will make Jillayne’s party so much more meaningful,” she said. “I will dance with the man I am to marry. God, I never thought I could say that. Even as I hear it, I still cannot believe it.”
“Believe it.”
Somewhere across the bailey, they could hear Lily calling to the servants, preparing for the evening meal. Men were rushing across the bailey towards the kitchen yard, while over at the great hall, warm light glowed from the open door.
Still in Dashiell’s arms, Belladonna watched her sister moving about in the darkness, instructing the servants. Her thoughts inevitably shifted back to the horrific vision of Clayton and Acacia. It wasn’t what she wanted to think about, not at this powerful moment, but she couldn’t help it. Faintly, she sighed.
“What are we to do about Clayton and Acacia?” she asked quietly. “I would rather die than see Lily humiliated, Dash.”
Dashiell could see Lily moving around, too. He released Belladonna before their amorous embrace was seen.
“I told you,” he said. “We say nothing. Not to anyone. I will decide what is to be done about this. But meanwhile, you will not say a word. Agreed?”
She nodded solemnly. “Agreed,” she said. “But I will have to face Acacia at some point and, I swear, I cannot even look at her, Dash. I do not want to look at her.”
His focus turned to Belladonna, realizing how difficult this was going to be for her. She was close to both of her sisters. Reaching out, he took her hand and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss.
“Be calm,” he said in a tone that sent shivers up her spine. “It is possible Acacia was forced into this. It is equally possible that she was not. Until you know the truth, keep calm. Do not treat her any differently. I know that will be difficult. But if your manner towards her changes, she will want to know why. What will you tell her?”
He was right. Belladonna looked at him, her gaze on her hand that was near his lips. His kiss had been so hot, the bristle of his mustache unbearably sweet.
“I will not tell her anything,” she said softly. “I suppose you are right. All I can do is keep quiet and pretend nothing has changed.”
He kissed her hand again and let it go. “Exactly,” he said. “Now, return to the keep and dress for sup. I shall see you in the hall shortly.”
“As you say.”
“Do you feel strong enough to face what you must?”
“Thanks to you.”
She offered him a little smile before heading off in the direction of the keep.
Dashiell watched her go, remaining in the shadows of the wall, trying to absorb everything that had happened in just the past few minutes. Clayton was bedding Acacia, and he and Belladonna had agreed to marry. He almost couldn’t grasp it all but he suddenly found himself resisting the urge to run to the battlements and shout his happiness for all to hear.
He felt much like Belladonna did – that he would wake up and it would all have been a dream – but he sincerely hoped God wasn’t that cruel. This was a momentous day and he wanted to absorb every single moment of it.
It had been rare in his life that he’d had something to be happy about, but this day was something he’d remember for the rest of his life. It was the day the woman that he’d longed for returned those feelings. It was the first day of the rest of his life and, at forty years and four, he felt as if he were just beginning to live.
With a spring in his step, he headed for the troop house to finish up his duties.