Rise of the Defender (74 page)

CHAPTER
TWENTY THREE

     Sir Dennis won the melee after nearly
killing David. John, pleased with his new champion, granted the man a title and
lands to accompany in Dorset, prime lands to be sure. With yet another new
baron at Windsor, Christopher was dealt another worry.

     The justices met the very next day after
the tournament and decided that until they had a body or confirmation of
Richard’s death, the man was still England’s king and they would continue
administering the country in his absence. Christopher, in full agreement with
their conclusion, decided to delay his return to Lioncross until there was any
change regarding Richard's well-being. It did not, however, sway his mind to
send Dustin northward. He had yet to speak with Marcus about it, but knew the
man would do as was asked of him.

     The trouble was, he could not seem to bear
to part with her. He was in bed an entire week with his ribs and shoulder and
she did everything for him, and he was becoming quite dependent on her. She was
the first thing he saw in the morning and the very last thing he saw at night.
His attachment to his wife was growing by the minute, as was she to him. Before
the week was out, they were absolutely inseparable.

     Deborah did indeed stay on with Dustin as
expected. Christopher and David were pleased to have their little sister under
their wing, and Dustin was grateful for the company. Deborah and David occupied
smaller apartments just next to Christopher and Dustin, and the two women got
along as if they had known each other all their life. Dustin felt the loss of
Rebecca less and less each day and better able to cope with life at Windsor
with the courtly Deborah's manner. Christopher also had another motive for
keeping his sister with him; John and Ralph knew exactly who she was and he
felt better able to protect her if she were under his roof.

     Weeks passed and Christopher healed rapidly,
as did Marcus. Toward the end of November when the wind was freezing and ice
covered the ground, Christopher was completely healed and Marcus was able to
flex his fingers. The arm had atrophied a bit, but he set to sword practice to
strengthen it, as much as he was able to hold anything in his stiff hand.

     John and Ralph had kept a remarkably low
profile. Even with Sir Dennis and his henchmen as the prince's constant
companions, there were no confrontations, threats, or attempts on Christopher's
life. In fact, it was almost too good to hope for and Christopher was
increasingly concerned that John was merely attempting to lure him into a false
sense of security. There was, however, one point of great distress in the midst
of the calm. John's mercenary army was growing in strength and size and
Christopher, as well as the justices, suspected that Philip Augustus was
channeling funds into England somehow to pay for them. There was also the
unmistakable fact that a great majority of the mercenaries were Frenchmen.

     Dustin matured a great deal in those few
weeks. The simple young woman with simple tastes was growing into the flower of
Windsor. Everyone knew who she was and she was the target of most social events
at the castle. If someone was having a gay party, then it was a must that Lady
Dustin de Lohr attend. If she didn’t, the party was an immediate failure. At
first the attention was due to the fact that she was the Defender’s wife, but
as people gradually got to know her, she began to build her own formidable
reputation.

     The fact remained, however, that Dustin was
not a frivolous, party-minded individual and she found most parties extremely
boring. Her clothing had gotten more trendy, thanks to Deborah, but she still
wore no jewelry other than the cross Christopher gave her and her wedding
rings. And she never, ever went anywhere without her husband. It became a
standing joke around Windsor that there was an invisible umbilical cord that
linked the two together. Not only that, but for as much as Marcus and David and
the others were with her, more lewd jokes suggested that each man took his turn
with her on different nights. Baron de Lohr’s group was a tightknit,
impenetrable clique.

     ‘Twas the very end of November when Dustin
awoke one morning after Christopher had left and proceeded to take a long, hot
bath. She bathed almost every morning in the winter to get her blood warmed and
flowing. As her maids fussed and fretted, she hopped from the tub and into a
thick linen towel, drying off in the chill of the room.

     “Nay, not that surcoat,” she told the
maids. “'Tis too tight. I would wear the blue woolen surcoat this morn.”

     Obediently, the blue surcoat was brought
and one of the maids had a bit of a time trying to fasten the stays on the
back. Dustin would suck her breath in and then exhale loudly, stay by stay,
until they were all secure. Even then, the surcoat was far too tight. She gazed
back at herself in the mirror.

     “Look how tight this surcoat is.” she
demanded with disgust. “I am getting as fat as a pig.”

     The maids passed glances at each other as
Dustin tugged and pulled at the surcoat.

     “And look at my breasts. They grow as large
as melons.” she pushed as her breasts and then flinched when they hurt. “I have
got to stop eating so much.”

     “My lady, if I may be so forward,” the
plumper of the two older woman spoke. “Did your mother not speak to you of the
ways of men and women?”

     Dustin looked at the woman as if she were
daft. “Of course, Lottie. Even so, I am a woman married and surely would have
figured it out by now.”

     “Nay, my lady, 'tis not what I meant,” the
older woman said patiently.  “Did your mother ever speak to you of breeding?”

     “Well, of course.” Dustin said impatiently.
“She told me that a man and a woman consummate their marriage and eventually….”
The huge gray eyes widened to the point of bulging from her skull and she was
actually shocked speechless. “A child? I am to bear a child?”

     The maids giggled. “From the looks of it,
one the size of the baron,” Lottie said. “When did you last have your menses?”

     Dustin was shaking with excitement and
surprise and it was difficult for her to hold a thought, any thought, but try
she did.

     “Let me see,” she struggled to think.
“Lord, it’s been so long and I didn’t even realize it. I suppose the end of September.”

     The maids nodded at each other, satisfied.
“Then you are nearly two months along with this child, and it should be due in
early summer.” “June,” the other maid, said helpfully.

     Dustin put a hand to her mouth,
half-covering the silly grin on her face. She could scarcely believe it and was
absolutely thrilled. “Truly?” she breathed timidly. “A son for Christopher?”

     The maids giggled again and Dustin twirled
about with delight, wanting to laugh and cry and jump for joy all at the same
time. She grabbed George and did a happy little dance, and then scooped up
Alexander and bounced him around while Harold barked loudly at her feet.

     “I must go find my husband immediately.”
She put George down on the bed, tugging at her surcoat and then laughing at
herself for trying to make it fit. “I suppose I shall have to get all of my
dresses altered.”

     She dashed out into the antechamber, warmed
by a huge fire roaring in the hearth. Outside, the sky was nearly black with
storm clouds even though it was almost mid-morning.

     The maids scurried after her, demanding
that she wear her warmest cloak. She was so scatterbrained that she put the
cloak on backwards before realizing her error and turning it around correctly.
Laughing at herself again as Lottie pulled it tight, she opened the front door
to the apartments and met with the usual half-dozen guards.

     “Where is my husband?” she demanded
swiftly.

     The sergeant on duty saluted her smartly.
“At the training grounds, my lady, drilling the troops.”

     “Will you take me there?” she asked.

     “My pleasure, my lady,” the sergeant said,
commandeering two other men to act as additional escort.

     Dustin was so excited she practically ran.
The sergeant led her down to the first level of the castle and out into the
freezing weather. It was misting already, promising the massive storm that was
to come, but Dustin didn’t care. All that mattered was that she tell
Christopher about his son.

     By the time they reached the training
grounds, icy rain was pelting them. The cloak Dustin wore was very heavy and
lined with fox, rendering it extremely warm and she wasn't feeling the elements
in the least. The sergeant found a large tree for her to stand under while he
sent word to the baron.

     The training ground was a huge, flat field
on which troops were practiced and drilled. At this moment, there were no less
than eight hundred men milling about the grounds in various maneuvers. She
could see several knights on horseback working with the men, but had yet to see
her husband. Then, before her, and entire column of men marched by and she
immediately saw that the knights in command were none other than her husband
and Marcus.

     Both men were riding in armor, but
helmetless. The rain was beating down on them, soaking their heads and Dustin's
eyes were riveted to her husband as he passed by her on his new destrier,
riding the dancing animal effortlessly and bellowing orders to the men-at-arms.
His cropped blond hair was soaked and he kept shaking his head like a dog to
keep the rain out of his eyes. She watched him move on down the field until the
sergeant who had escorted her dashed out to his side. After a couple of
exchanged words, she saw the sergeant point directly at her.

     Christopher spurred his horse in her
direction and the unruly animal came to an unsteady halt several feet away from
her, snorting and pawing the earth and Christopher cuffed the animal across the
neck. The horse calmed enough for him to be able to dismount without being
thrown. Once down, he rushed to his wife’s side underneath the tree.

     “Dustin.” he said harshly. “What in the
hell are you doing out here?”

     She opened her mouth but in that instant
her excitement turned to hurt at his tone.

     “I…I….,” she sputtered.

     He gave her an impatient glare. “Go back
with the sergeant, sweet.”

     “Nay,” she said firmly. “Christopher,
I….can we talk somewhere?”

     He looked at her with disbelief. “Dustin, I
cannot.  I have got two hundred new recruits to drill this morn. Now go back to
the apartments and we shall talk this afternoon.”

     She wasn’t returning without telling him
the news, but he was being difficult to convince. However, she had learned
something about Christopher in the months she’d been married to him; he hated
to see her cry. Big, fat tears immediately welled in her eyes and his expression
instantly changed.

     “Do not do that,” he ordered quietly. “I
shall be back for the nooning meal and we can talk then.”

     She blinked and the tears spilled down her
cheeks, turning her back to him. Behind her, she heard him sigh.

     “What is so important, Dustin?”

     She shook her head, letting out a sob for
effect. He reached out with his huge hands and turned her around to face him.

     “What is so important that you are out here
in this hellish weather?” he asked, more gently.

     She shook her head again and sniffed. “Not
here,” she said. “I do not want to talk about it out in the rain.”

     His jaw ticked impatiently and he glanced
over his shoulder to see that Marcus had the recruits well in hand for the
moment.

     “Very well,” he said in a low voice. “Come with
me.”

     He pulled her to him and led her to a
fairly deserted bank of stables. He took her into the very last stall, smelling
strongly of fresh straw and rain. He shook his head to rid the water from his
hair as Dustin lowered the hood of her cape. He put his hands on his hips
expectantly.

     “Well?” he demanded softly.

     The moment was upon her and she found she
was actually frightened to tell him. She had been so eager that she hadn’t even
thought of how she was going to deliver the news. She wiped her eyes and
cleared her throat a couple of times, a thousand words spinning about in her
flighty brain.

     Christopher sighed impatiently. “Come now,
Dustin, I have no time for games. What is so important?”

     She opened her mouth to speak but again
lost her nerve. “Kiss me.”

     He looked at her, disbelieving. “What?”

     “Please?” she moved forward, her sweet face
upturned.

     He scowled but did as he was asked, a quick
kiss turning into a long, lingering kiss of delicious promises. When she had
finished with him, his loins were heating up and his whole body was languid.

     Dustin licked her lips, running her finger
over his lips and then kissed him again.