Taming The Wolf. Deborah Simmons

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      Chapter Three

      Dunstan was not pleased. He had come to Campion for...well, he was not sure exactly why he had come, but it was not to be saddled with such a ridiculous errand. Not now, when there was so much to be done at Wessex. He rubbed the back of his neck and strode into the yard without even glancing at the woman at his side.

      While the wench was packing, he had hastily washed, changed his travel-stained garments and devoured some food. Now, he looked toward a few of his father’s men to supplement his own force before leaving. Although they would make only a few miles before sunset, that would put them a few miles closer to their destination—and the completion of his task.

      “Dunstan!” He turned at the call from his vassal. Walter Avery, a beefy blond knight who had been with him since his first days serving King Edward, loped across the yard, looking decidedly annoyed to have been snatched from his leisure.

      “Wait here,” Dunstan curtly told the woman. Without staying for an answer, he walked over to meet his vassal.

      “What is afoot?” Walter asked. “Have you news of Fitzhugh?”

      “Nay,” Dunstan said, frowning at the mention of his bastard neighbor. “Campion would have me escort one of his guests back to her home,” he explained curtly.

      Walter’s heavy brows lifted in surprise. “And you agreed?”

      Dunstan glanced at the walls of the keep that rose behind them and realized, belatedly, that he could have refused his father. But that course had never even crossed his mind. As the eldest, he had always shouldered the most responsibility; as a de Burgh, he bore it without complaint.

      “It should not take long, a few weeks, no more,” Dunstan said absently. Walter shook his head. Obviously, he could not understand why a baron with his own property and its attendant problems would take on a commission from Campion—especially when there were at least five other brothers who could do the job.

      Dunstan was wondering the same thing himself.

      “See that we have sufficient men for the trip,” he ordered. “I want to travel quickly and light, but most of all, I want this to be a safe, uneventful journey.”

      When Walter nodded grudgingly and stalked across the yard to see to the men, Dunstan turned back toward the girl, but she was not where he had left her. Unaccustomed to having his orders disobeyed, Dunstan clenched his jaw in annoyance and looked around. Although he soon spotted her not far away, surrounded by a group of urchins, his temper was unappeased. A lifetime of hard work, skilled fighting and book study, and he was playing nursemaid to a female!

      And what a female! As Dunstan strode toward the brown daub of a creature, he wondered how she had ever wormed her way into his family’s good graces. He had little use for women himself and had never known his brothers to claim aught but carnal interest in them, either. And yet he had witnessed the battle-hardened de Burghs fawning over this one in wrenching farewells that had made his stomach turn.

      As he approached her, she reached down to pat one of the children, and he studied her in earnest. The woman was not even beautiful! She was short and dark and too voluptuous for his taste, which ran more to willowy blondes. A certain widow from Edward’s court, who had been free with her favors, came to mind. Yes, Melissande, pale and cool and glittering with expensive gems, was to his liking—not this moppet. He scowled at her.

      She was stooping, making herself even smaller to speak to the children who crowded happily around her, when Dunstan reached her. He did not pause or wait for her to acknowledge his presence. He simply grabbed her by the arm and hauled her up. “I told you to stay put!” he snapped.

      For an instant, she seemed startled, her big brown eyes growing huge in her delicate face. By faith, they were enormous, those eyes and rather...striking in their fashion. Was she frightened of him? Good, Dunstan thought smugly. Then perhaps she would listen to him in the future. “When I give an order I expect you to obey it,” he said gruffly.

      Her head bowed, and he thought she would nod submissively, but then she lifted her chin and spoke. “And I expect you to have better manners, Dunstan de Burgh!” she replied. Her voice was low and shaky, but the words were plain enough. They took him aback, and he stared at her. He could not recall the last time anyone had scolded him; no one possessed the audacity to talk back to him. The idea of this tiny female, this little wren, asserting herself, made him want to laugh. He released her arm none too gently.

      “I want this journey to pass swiftly and uneventfully. Heed me, and we shall have no further problems. Now, please accompany me, my lady,” he said. He snapped the polite phrases through clenched teeth and spread out an arm in an exaggerated gesture of cordiality. Although she shot him a brief look that hinted at barely suppressed outrage, she gracefully took her place in front of him.

      Dunstan decided he had imagined the fierceness in her glance and smiled smugly at her back. Already he had the woman well in hand. The little wren might have thought she could run roughshod over him, as she had his brothers, but he had effectively put her in her place. He had no intention of playing nursemaid, nor did he plan on becoming besotted like the rest of his family by one small, insignificant female with huge eyes.

      * * *

      Marion let a faceless soldier help her mount her palfrey, then she gripped the reins tightly and waited for the train to get under way. Having seen her to her horse, Dunstan had gone about other business, and Marion was heartily glad to see his back, for she liked him not. Whatever appeal he had initially held for her had disappeared with his unfeeling handling of her departure. He had shown his true nature quickly enough!

      Surprised to find her hands shaking with the force of her anger, Marion looked down at them, turning them over and over, as she assessed this unusual reaction. At Campion, she had never known such blood-coursing emotion, but somehow, it felt good. She let her hands tremble and her rage boil at the thought of Dunstan de Burgh’s behavior.

      On some level, Marion knew that Dunstan was not much different from his brothers. They had been gruff and rude and sometimes ill-mannered when she had arrived. Reynold still was difficult to reach, owing, she suspected, to his bad leg...and yet she knew that he cared for her.

      Dunstan did not. There was no excuse for the way he had grabbed at her, bruising her tender arm with his huge hand and subduing her with his overpowering strength. Marion lifted her chin. For him she would make no allowances. He was the one who had brought the bad tidings. He would steal her from the people she loved and wrest her from the only home she had ever known. He would take her to a place she did not want to go.

      Just the thought of this Baddersly made Marion stiffen. Happy at Campion, she had known СКАЧАТЬ