Rise of the Defender (120 page)

     But she would not return home, at least not
immediately.
Give Marcus a chance
, she told herself. Mayhap he can at
least bring a ray of joy back into your life if you will only let him. The
shock of Christopher's death wearing off and the return of normalcy to her
character in sight, Dustin realized that the rest of her life was to be a very
gray, bitter thing. The only person who could possibly give her any happiness
was Marcus Burton.

     The very last day before they reached
Somerhill dawned gray and foggy and heavy with mist. Christin had been up all
night long cutting a new tooth and Dustin was exhausted, even though Marcus had
spoiled her for a few hours. Her fatigue, coupled with the constant travel, had
upset her stomach terribly.

     She coaxed a few bites of breakfast down,
hoping to calm her jitters, but everything she ate came right back up again and
she felt worse than before. Marcus was gravely concerned for her and insisted
they rest for the day, but she insisted more firmly that they continue. Two
hundred men-at-arms and six knights were eager to return to their keep, not to
mention Dustin and Marcus and the rest of them. She would not halt progress due
to her nervous stomach.

     Pale and sick, Marcus loaded her up onto
Hercules with great hesitation. He wanted her to ride with him, but she waved
him off. She would ride to Somerhill alone.

     She was truly miserable. Hercules had a
smooth gate, but the very rocking motion worsened her condition. The constant
taste of bile coated her mouth and all she wanted to do was lay down and sleep
for a week. In fact, her breasts ached terribly with each jostle of the horse
and her stomach wasn't only upset, it was sore as well. She could only remember
feeling this badly once in her life, when she was first pregnant with Christin,
and….

     Dustin forgot all about her churning
stomach and her shaking hands. In that instant, all of the clues came into
focus and she realized with an explosion of jubilation that she was pregnant
again.

     Her hand flew to her abdomen, trying to
remember when she had her last menses and she could not. In fact, she hadn’t
had her cycle since she conceived Christin and she was nearly wild with
excitement.
Thank you, God!
she cried silently, over and over again,
singing it in her heart and soul until tears of joy filled her eyes and rolled
down her cheeks. She dashed them away, wanting her moment of happiness to be a
private one for now. If Marcus saw her tears, he would demand to know why she
was crying and she did not feel like sharing her secret with him yet. This was
her personal moment to share with her deceased husband, wherever he might be.
As much as Christopher had loved Christin, she knew he would be absolutely
ecstatic with another child.  Another legacy.

     Dustin blinked back more happy tears as she
touched her stomach gently. She knew without a doubt 'twas a son she carried
beneath her heart.

***

     Somerhill was a lovely place. As lovely as
Lioncross was. Somerhill was magnificent and well kept, and Dustin knew Marcus
was responsible for the condition of the keep. It sat on a rise overlooking the
river and protected a fairly large village. Even as they rode into town,
peasants turned out to greet Marcus and Dustin was impressed with the respect
the man had earned from his people. Christopher hadn't had the time to mingle
much with his vassals since the majority of his time had been spent away from
Lioncross, but Marcus had had ample time to get to know his people considering
he had been holed up in the structure for nearly a year.

     Women handed Dustin several bouquets of new
spring flowers and she buried her nose in them, inhaling their heady fragrance.
The world around them was thawing in the early spring and Dustin's mood was
lightened. A new baby, a new world, and a new keep that loomed before her
against the late afternoon sky.

     “Marcus, it is beautiful,” she remarked.

     He reined his white steed close to her. “Do
you like it? I am rather proud of it. Not as massive as Lioncross, but I like
it.”

     “Oh, no, it is much taller than Lioncross.”
Dustin said, indicating the two massive towers that stretched heavenward. “We
do not have any towers.”

     The gates were already open and Marcus' men
were greeting him home with shouts and waves. The party entered into the outer
bailey, for there were two, and Marcus’ knights began disbanding the army and
ordered the wagons unloaded. The bailey quickly turned into a rushing mass of
people, all moving about their assigned tasks.  Dustin simply sat high atop
Hercules, absorbing it all.

     Marcus was beside her, holding up his arms
to her. With a smile that she truly felt this time, she slid into his arms and
he lowered her gently to the ground.

     “I hope you shall be happy here, honey,” he
said softly. “I have come to love it a great deal.”

     She patted his arm reassuringly. “I can see
why. It is a beautiful place.” She only remarked on the latter of his
statement.

     Marcus did not let her go for a moment and
Dustin felt a distinct pull between them; those cobalt-blue eyes were
captivating. She remembered the very first time she ever looked into them - she
had felt the exact same pull. She knew it would be very easy to love Marcus,
but she could not let herself. She only loved Christopher, and the thought of
even considering loving Marcus brought floods of guilt.

     Clearing her throat, she stepped back as
Sir Stephen Marion brought Christin over to them. Her daughter was wrapped in
enough wool and fur to keep several peasant children cozy and looked as round
as a fat, ripe melon. Her sweet cherub face was the only thing visible, but the
wrappings waved wildly when she saw her mother.

     “Hello, sweet pea,” Marcus touched the
babe's cheek as she was placed in her mother's arms. “Jesus, Dustin, unwrap
that babe or she will suffocate.”

     Dustin grinned, indeed taking off the outer
layer of clothing. “The wet nurse is fearful she will catch cold this far
north.”

     Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Bundled like
that, she is going to sweat to death first.” He turned to Sir Stephen. “Tell
Dud we have gone inside and help him with Lady Dustin's belongings. They will
go in the chamber next to mine. And ask Iris which room the baby and the wet
nurse are to be housed.”

     Stephen, a very handsome blond man that
reminded Dustin a good deal of David, saluted smartly and was gone.

     “Who's Iris?” Dustin asked.

     “My chatelaine,” he replied. “But I am sure
with you here, I will not be needing her services any longer.”

     “Marcus, keep the woman,” Dustin insisted.
“I am a terrible chatelaine.”

     He took her arm and turned her toward the
inner bailey. “You are not. Lioncross was the best run keep I have ever seen.”

     “Thanks to Gowen and Edward,” she told him.
“Surely you saw that they were in charge, and not me.”

     He shrugged. “I assumed that was because
you had been grief-stricken for so long that they had voluntarily taken over
your duties.”

     Dustin shook her head. “Obviously, you know
nothing about me,” she said lightly. “In hindsight, I suppose I should blame my
parents for not insisting that I learn things all young ladies should learn,
but they let me do whatever I pleased. I hated dancing, sewing, managing a
household, all the things that well-bred young women need to learn. I did learn
to do needlepoint and paint because my mother absolutely insisted. But most of
the time, I ran with the peasant boys and learned to ride and hunt and fish.
Did you know that I can build a boat, and raise a hut in a mere few hours?
Certainly not things required by a chatelaine.”

     He grinned, noticing the looks from his men
as he brought her into the inner bailey. They were looking at Dustin as if she
were the goddess Aphrodite on his arm.

     “So you can build?” he said. “Impressive.
What else can you do?”

     She warmed to the pleasant mood. “I can
fight, but, of course, you already know that.”

     He raised a black eyebrow reprovingly. “I
have no firsthand knowledge of it, but I have seen you. Were you any taller, I
would take you into battle with me.”

     She laughed and his heart skipped a beat.
It was so good to see her laugh.

     “I would be your very best knight, too, and
you know it.” When he shrugged in agreement, she continued. “My father taught
me to read and write, and I can do mathematics and debate philosophy. Father
was proud of my accomplishments, even though they were not the usual
accomplishments of noble ladies.”

     Marcus wriggled his eyebrows. “True enough,
but you are not a usual noble lady,” he replied as they mounted the low step
that led into his keep. He stopped her there, focusing on her beautiful face.
“Truly, Dustin, I want you to be happy here. I am well aware of your feelings
and your fears, and I promise I shall do naught to antagonize you. But you know
my feelings, too, and I am not usually a patient man. But I shall be with you,
I promise.”

     He kissed her free hand sweetly and she
felt her wall going down just a bit. His manner was gentle and she liked that.

     “Thank you, Marcus,” she said softly. “I
appreciate everything you have done for Christin and myself, and in spite of
what David and Edward think, I believe Christopher would approve.”

     Marcus nodded his head chivalrously in
thanks just as a big, bosomy woman with a tall white bun on her head appeared
at the door.

     “Great Walls of Jericho!” she roared. “Is
this your Lady Dustin, Marcus? Get her in here before she and that babe catch
their death of chill.”

     Dustin looked at the woman with surprise as
a fat hand shot out and hustled her inside. Marcus, a quirky grin on his face,
followed close on her heels.

     In the warm, dim entryway, the woman put up
a tremendous fuss over Christin and Dustin wasn't sure if she should protect
her child or hand her over. Obviously, this was Iris.

     “You never said we were going to have a
babe in the house,” Iris scolded Marcus, then turned sweetly to Christin. “Oh,
Marcus, she is beautiful. I cannot remember when there was a babe in the keep
last. What is her name?”

     “Christin,” Dustin replied. “And she's
cutting teeth, so beware.”

     “Teeth!” Iris said it as if it were the
most wonderful thing on earth. “I shall give her a bone to chew on. That will
take care of her teeth.”

     Dustin could not help grinning as she
glanced at Marcus, and he returned her expression. Iris was holding out her
hands expectantly.

     “Give me the sweet little peapod and I
shall take care of her,” the old woman begged firmly. “You, my lady, look as if
you could use a bath and some rest. Sara is upstairs filling a tub for you already.”

     Dustin looked uncertain; but Marcus smiled.
“Thank you, Iris. My lady could indeed use the rest.”

     Reluctantly, Dustin handed Christin over to
the woman and the housekeeper immediately began crooning and singing to the
babe, her manner gentle as one has to be around infants. Marcus watched
Dustin's face as Iris took Christin away.

     “Do not look like that,” he said softly.
“She has six children of her own and is quite competent. She will see that
Christin is bathed and fed.”

     “But I wanted to do it,” Dustin lamented.

     “And you shall, starting tomorrow,” he told
her firmly. “You need to relax and collect yourself. Christin is in good hands,
I promise.”

     She gave him a doubtful raise of the
eyebrows and he took her arm, leading her up a flight of stone stairs that
clung to a massive wall and opened up onto the second floor. At the very end of
the corridor, he took her into a spacious bedchamber with the biggest bed she
had ever seen in the middle of it. Over near a great carved fireplace was a
large copper tub, and the girl that was busying herself next to it stopped
abruptly and curtsied.

     “My lady, I am Sara,” she said rather
boldly. “Your bath is ready.”

     Dustin eyed the room before her gaze fell
on the servant. She was about her own age with bright red hair and a long face.
Marcus was focused on Dustin’s beautiful face as she absorbed the room, the new
sights and atmosphere. He fully realized he had both hands on her protectively,
although Dustin wasn't even aware of it.

     “I should get my men settled,” he told her.
“Will you be all right for a while?”

     Dustin moved to undo her cloak. “Of
course,” she said. “Where did Iris take Christin?”

     “Probably to show her off to the servants
and then, I would imagine, she will settle her very close to your room.” He
could see she was lost without her daughter and he smiled, kissing her on the
cheek. “She is fine. Do not worry so much.”

     “I am not,” Dustin insisted with a shrug.

     He laughed softly at her and quit the room,
leaving her feeling strange and alone.