“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 the 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 she had yet to see her husband. Then, before her, an 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 riveted to her husband as he passed by her on his new destrier. He was 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.
“Talk to me, wife,” his voice was a seductive growl. “What is so important?”
Her courage returning, Dustin disengaged herself from his arms and stood back, unfastening her cloak and removing it.
“Do I look any different to you?” she asked.
He was thoroughly puzzled. “You are as beautiful as you ever were. Why?”
“Do I look fat?” she persisted.
He looked at her ripe, supple body and shook his head. “No Dustin, why the questions? What are you driving at?”
“Do you know that none of my surcoats fit me anymore? They are all as snug as skins on a grape,” she said insistently.
He raised an eyebrow, his eyes raking her body once more. “I see no difference. If you are worried about it, then we shall have more surcoats made. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“Nay,” she said quickly. “Yes. Oh, Christopher, it’s just that… oh!”
She stomped her foot with frustration and lowered her gaze, again searching for the correct words. He reached out after a moment and pulled her against him.
“If you are worried that you are putting on weight, do not,” he said softly. “You are a delightful, delicious morsel for my tongue, sweetheart.”
“I am putting on weight,” she agreed.
“I care not,” he replied, thinking what she wanted was reassurance that he still found her desirable. “You look better than you ever have. Your breasts are more than a handful for me and your beautiful legs are supple and…”
“Chris,” she put her hand to his lips to quiet him. “We are going to have a baby.”
His eyes widened and beneath her fingers, his mouth went agape. Her eyes met with his for an eternity of long seconds before he even trusted himself to speak.
“A baby?” he whispered. “Dustin, are you pregnant?”
She nodded, trying to gage his reaction. “Are you happy?”
He tried to laugh at the idiocy of the question but all that came out was a choked gasp. Complete, unexpected joy surged through his veins as his disbelieving mind tried to comprehend her words. “Happy? Christ in Heaven, Dustin. Happy isn’t a word I would choose to describe my feelings.”
She looked at him with uncertainty. “Tell me, then. Are you not happy?”
He responded by kissing her feverishly, every inch of her face and neck until she was laughing and gasping with delight. She tried to speak, but every time she uttered a word his mouth was on her again and sucking at her with furious joy. He stopped long enough to allow her to catch her breath, cradling her against him with the utmost reverence.
“Christ, sweetheart, I cannot describe in words how thrilled I am,” he whispered against her, then held her back to look her over urgently. “How do you feel? Are you all right?”
She smiled. “I am fine, just fat,” she said, winding her arms around his neck. “I love you, Chris. I hope to give you a fine, healthy son.”
He kissed her tenderly. “That would be the ul
timate gift, sweet love. As long as you come through unscathed, tis all I will ask of God.”
Their lips met again, so sweetly and worshipful of each other, growing increasingly passionate by the moment. The storm outside was a full-blown climate upheaval, but inside the deserted stable, their love was filling the air like a warm breeze.
He lay her back on her cloak, throwing off pieces of armor and hearing them hit the straw in reckless disorder. Not a word was spoken, but there was no need, his gentle touch and eager lips spoke volumes to her. Between tender, urgent kisses and reverent caresses, she helped him off with his hauberk and underclothing.
He ran his hands over her nude body for the longest time, kissing her slightly rounded belly over and over, worshiping the miracle they created inside her. He still could not believe the good news.
She moaned softly at his touch, closing her eyes to savor every sensation he was bestowing upon her. From her breasts to her toes, he was unstoppable, his huge body prowling over her like a graceful beast. When he finally did mount her, it was with more tenderness than she dreamed possible, his strokes even and measured and erotic.
He made love to her as he never had, his throat tight with emotion. The child she carried, his child, meant more to him than anything on earth and he was so, so grateful that Dustin loved him enough to bear him the gift.
When they did climax together, tears of joy found their way down her cheeks, clinging to Christopher for dear life. She never wanted to let him go, just simply remain as they were forever, listening to the storm outside yet warm and happy with their contentment.
He dressed her carefully, managing to touch her stomach a dozen times in the process. He wouldn’t allow her to help him with his armor, only his hauberk because it was bulky and awkward. When he was fully dressed, he pulled her to him once again and kissed the life from her.
“Now I want you to go back to the apartments and rest,” he said softly.
“But there’s to be a grand luncheon in the great dining hall and Deborah and I promised to attend,” she protested. “There will be entertainers and….”
“Nay,” he said firmly. “You will return to our apartments and relax. I do not want you exerting yourself in the least.”
She frowned at him. “Chris, I have been pregnant for almost two months and have yet to injure or exert myself in that time. Be reasonable about this, I won’t break.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Do not argue with me.”
“I am not,” she insisted. “But I have seven more months to go and refuse to be treated like an invalid until June. Can I please go to the luncheon if I promise to leave the moment it is finished?”
He eyed her and she was hopeful with his indecisive pause. “If you promise to leave the very moment you have finished eating, then I will allow it.” He pointed a massive gauntleted finger at her when she smiled triumphantly. “But if you so much as vary in your plans but a moment, I shall chain you to the bed myself until my son is born.”
She stood on tip-toe and kissed him on the tip of his nose. “I promise, I promise.”
He smiled and swatted her on the bottom. “Delay me no further, wife.”
He took her out of the stable, shielding her with his huge body from the driving rain and to the waiting escort of his men. He suddenly found it difficult to let her go with them, wanting more than ever to protect her himself and reluctant to leave the duty to anyone else. But he forced himself to let her go, waving a hand at her in response to her huge smile as they led her away.
Behind him, Marcus rode up and kicked mud all over his legs. “Where in the hell did you go?”
He looked up at his vassal, rain pelting his face, and smiled the broadest smile Marcus could ever remember seeing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Word spread throughout Windsor that the Defender’s wife was expecting. Dustin was the recipient of thousands of items for the baby, all of them designed for a boy, and she prayed to God every night that the child would be male. She knew Christopher would be tremendously disappointed if she bore a daughter.
Deborah was mayhap even more ecstatic over the baby than she was, if such a thing were possible. She sewed endlessly, making mounds of blankets and little suits and booties until Dustin’s wardrobe was fair to overflowing with the stuff.
Dustin’s twentieth birthday came and went with very little fanfare, as she requested. Christopher held a small dinner party in her honor with only a very few select guests, mostly other knights. She was embarrassed with all of the attention and gifts, but it was a lively party and she was sorry to see it end. The greatest gift came later in their bedchamber, however, when Christopher presented her with a beautiful bejeweled hair clip and matching ear-bobs. He stripped her of her surcoat, piled her considerable hair on top of her head and secured it with the clip, and put her ear-adornments on her and proceeded to make love to her deep into the night.
It was around this time that Dustin noticed how distant Marcus had become. No longer was he the humorous, personable man, but rather detached from everything. Deborah had a mad crush on the man and Dustin suspected that mayhap he was uncomfortable with the attention, and was concerned for him. When she tried to talk to him, he would always excuse himself before they could delve into any manner of conversation.
Around Dustin, he was even worse. Whenever she would come around, he would leave before she could say a word to him. Dustin was concerned, of course, but the impending baby seemed to wipe all else from her mind. Whatever was troubling Marcus, she couldn’t be bothered by it.
It was a few days before Christmas when John decided to have a mask. It was a season of celebration and prayer, but the prince took it to the next level. He wanted a mad party. The mood struck John to have a mask, and a mask all of Windsor would have.
Dustin had been planning on the dance since she had learned of it days before. Even though she didn’t dance, she still thought it would be great fun to attend, and she and Deborah had spent the entire afternoon selecting a surcoat. A clear red brocade was her choice, complementing her skin beautifully. Deborah’s finest surcoat was an elaborately embroidered black and white brocade which Dustin thought to be gaudy, but with her simple tastes, everything seemed gaudy.
She still could not believe a tiny life grew inside her. Days after the discovery, she kept running her hands over her stomach in disbelief, grinning when Deborah would touch her belly also. In fact, Deborah seemed to touch her belly more than Dustin did, so excited was she.
Christopher returned from the practice field in the late afternoon, grimy and sweaty and smelling like a horse. Deborah retreated, leaving Dustin alone with her filthy husband.
He tried to kiss his wife but she ducked away from him, wrinkling her nose. “Not until you bathe.”
He gave her a half grin, removing his gauntlets. “I must bathe simply to kiss you?”
“You must bathe if you plan to sleep beside me tonight,” she told him. “Moreover, I will not be seen with you tonight at the mask if you do not clean yourself up.”
“Mask?” he repeated. “You mean John’s deviant party?”
She eyed him. “Aye, that’s what I mean. Did you forget? You promised we could go.”
“But that was before you told me of your condition,” he said sternly. “You will not cavort about the dance floor and exert yourself.”
“I do not dance, you know that.” she said sharply. “But you promised that we could go, and I want to very much.”
“Go and do what? Sit?” he shot back. “Nay, Dustin, you will stay here and rest tonight. You should not be out and about.”
She frowned, putting her hands on her hips. “Do not start that again. I am fine, I told you. And I want to go to the party simply, well, to see the fine surcoats and talk with people. Our friends will be expecting us.”
“Our friends will understand when I explain to them why you were unable to attend,” he said as he removed his breastplate. “Your health is more important than
a party.”
Her pretty mouth set in a stubborn line. “Are you breaking your promise to me? Is your word no better than water through my fingers?”
He raised an eyebrow reprovingly. “You know better than that. I promised you before I knew you were carrying my son and the circumstances have changed. I do not wish to discuss this anymore.”
“And we shan’t.” Dustin stomped an impudent foot. “I am going, and so is Deborah. The only way you can stop me is to tie me down, but know that I will fight you every step of the way if you try.”
She dashed into the bedchamber and he tossed his breastplate and hauberk to the ground with frustration. “I will tie you down if I have to,” he yelled to her. “Do not think that I won’t.”
“And risk injuring your precious son?” she exclaimed angrily, suddenly standing in the doorway. “You already care more for this child than you do for me. Will you forget about me completely when he is born?”
He turned to scowl at her, but she was already gone. He could hear her rummaging about in the bedchamber. With a sigh of annoyance, he shirked off the rest of his armor and tossed his boots over by the hearth.
Dustin was digging through a chest in the bedchamber.
“What are you doing?’ he asked, yanking his shirt off.
“Looking for my stockings,” she snapped.
He watched her for a moment, his jaw ticking. He could feel himself relenting to her, as he knew he would. He was coming to realize that her happiness meant everything to him, even in the smallest matters. He knew she had been looking forward to the ball, but he had hoped to discourage the strenuous activity.
“Are you that determined to go that you would fight me tooth-and-nail for the privilege?” he asked.
“Aye, I am.” She stood up quickly, her hair a giant wild mass. “You promised.”
He had, and he was cornered. He scratched his itchy scalp and sighed in resignation. “Very well, then. If you are hell-bent on attending this orgy, I shall not stop you. But you will not overextend yourself in the least, do you understand?”
The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 52