Something tragic.
At first, Darian had been secretly glad. He had been hoping that Cassius was only a passing fancy and it seemed that he had been correct. He saw renewed hope in his quest for Dacia that had been shattered by Cassius’ pursuit. But the more the days passed, and the more Cassius would not leave Dacia’s door until she opened it, the more Darian began to feel some guilt for gloating in Cassius’ failure. The man was clearly broken up over what had happened, so Darian began snapping at the men who would comment on the situation. It wasn’t any of their affair, he would tell them.
And the vigil went on.
The duke, having been told of the situation by Rhori, went to see Cassius as the man camped at Dacia’s door. Cassius told him everything, the rumors and the lies, and Doncaster was sick over it. He never involved himself in the trials or tribulations of others and had, thus far, kept himself out of the situation between Amata and Dacia. Somehow, they always seemed to work things out, or so he believed. But the latest rumors from Amata’s lips were beyond what he believed the girl capable of.
Now, he was involved.
Mostly, he was involved with Cassius, who was grief-stricken by Dacia’s solution to the situation. The duke didn’t agree with her and tried to tell her so through the closed chamber door, but she never answered him. She never answered the door, not even when he demanded it. The situation went on for two agonizingdays and by the third day, Cassius seemed to resign himself to the inevitable.
But it was with a good deal of anger and resentment.
After almost three days of banging on Dacia’s door and demanding that she open it, Cassius finally left for good, going to his borrowed chamber and packing his belongings. His movements were crisp and silent, and Rhori and Bose packed along with him. They had a destination that had been put off long enough and Cassius decided that it was a good day to continue their journey to Castle Questing.
Without another word, he left.
But Rhori had spoken to Darian just before leaving, telling the man that he would keep him appraised of their movements in case Dacia came to her senses. Perhaps there was hope, perhaps there was none at all, but it seemed that Dacia was truly convinced that sending Cassius away and breaking their betrothal was the only way to protect him against the accusations against her. Still, no one really knew what she was thinking because she wouldn’t tell anyone.
Now, it had been that way for two long weeks, but a few moments ago all of that had changed. Amata and her father had arrived, bearing news, and the duke had sent Darian up to Dacia’s chamber.
But he approached her with the same caution as one would approach a wild lion.
Both Dacia and the lion, in his opinion, were unpredictable creatures.
When he finally opened the door and spied Edie, the old woman’s head came up, looking at him with wide eyes, and silently they communicated with gestures and expressions as to whether or not this was a good time for him to communicate with Dacia.
Edie finally motioned him in.
“’Tis good to see you, Sir Darian,” she said, her voice elevated so Dacia could hear her. “It is a fine day today, is it not?”
Darian stepped into the chamber, but he was coiled, ready to run for his life if Dacia came flying at him.
“It is a fine day,” he agreed. “I do believe it is going to be a warm and dry summer. The temperatures are rising and we’ve not seen any rain, so I fear we are looking at a dusty season to come.”
Edie set aside the sewing in her hands, a beautiful yellow piece. “I can remember in years past when we’ve had such dry summers,” she said. “But come September, the rains will come heavily.”
They were speaking casually, knowing Dacia was somewhere about, wanting her to hear them so she wouldn’t be startled by his appearance.
“They will,” he agreed. Then, he gestured to the sewing she had set aside. “It looks as if you are making something lovely. Mayhap for the warm weather to come?”
Edie held up the piece. “Aye,” she said. “’Twill be a lovely frock for my lady. In fact, I’ve been going through her clothing and pulling out the heavier garments to pack away until the colder weather returns. I’ve also been mending the garments she likes to wear when she works in the garden. Why, we shall have the very best herb garden in all of Doncaster this summer. Lady Dacia wants to grow some of the herbs that Emmeric used in his potions.”
She was pointing to a table where two bags sat side by side– one was singed and worn, while the other was Dacia’s very nice leather satchel.
“And be mindful of those poisons,” Darian said. “I told you that when I brought the bag.”
“You did, my lord.”
“Did you keep them?”
Edie shrugged. “My lady may wish to keep some,” she said. “It is not my place to remove them, so I put everything in her bag.”
She had a point. Darian snorted. “Poisons,” he said with irony. “What on earth did he have poisons for?”
Edie chuckled. “The maids and I were wondering the same thing,” she said. “Mayhap to use if his patient did not pay him properly.”
Before Darian could reply to what had become meaningless banter, Dacia picked that moment to enter the chamber from the smaller dressing chamber.