“Where did you get this?” he said, carefully examining the sword.
“Stole it from one of John’s elite troops after I killed him,” Rob replied, not particularly proud of the fact. “I lost my own sword in his chest, so I took his.”
“A fair trade,” Christopher handed it back to hm. “Sire, if you are ready, I believe your son is waiting most impatiently.”
Rob blew out his cheeks as if to summon courage and followed Christopher into the clearing.
“Be easy on me, my lord,” Rob pleaded with a smile. “I do most of my fighting these days with a crossbow.”
“If you aggravate his wound, I shall take a switch to you,” Marianne yelled from the edge of the trees.
“Do not listen to her, Rob,” Jonathan hollered in response. “Cut a few inches off those tall legs.”
Rob, who had just assumed a defensive posture, suddenly stood up straight and glared back into the crowd. “Will you kindly shut up? How do you expect me to survive this bout if you distract me like that?”
The group tittered and Rob returned to his defensive position. He grinned at Christopher. “Whenever you are ready.”
“After you, sire,” Christopher replied lightly.
They were both out of practice, but it was obvious in the first minute or so why Christopher had earned his considerable reputation. He was toying with Rob, but in truth he was glad he was not going against anyone more seasoned. To start slowly was the best thing he could do and he could feel seldom-used muscles coming back to life again.
Rob concluded the match before any more harm was done to his pride and Christopher thanked him graciously for demeaning himself. But already establishment had been made that, indeed, he was who he said he was.
The Defender was on the road to recovery.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Dustin was bent over the basin when there was a loud rapping at her door. She told whoever it was to go away, but Marcus announced himself and she had no choice but to respond. She did not want him to see the contents of her stomach on display in the basin, so she put it in the wardrobe to hide it from him. Quickly brushing her hair, she straightened her surcoat and went to open the door.
Marcus raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Are you hiding a lover in here?”
She stood back as he entered the room, trying not to look suspect. “Can I at least put a surcoat on before you come barging in here?” she snapped.
He looked at her, ignoring her tone. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What do you mean?” she lowered her gaze and moved away from him.
“I mean, Iris says you have been sick ever since you got here,” he said, concerned. “What’s wrong, honey? Isn’t the food settling on your stomach?”
Dustin pursed her lips with frustration. “And what else does Iris tell you about me? Damnation, that woman knows everything that happens to me two seconds after it happens. This castle is a damn rumor mill. I hate it.”
“Calm, lady.” He put up his hands soothingly. “They do not mean to be that way, but it is a close knit group. They are not trying to be malicious, just concerned.”
“I do not need their concern,” she shot back. “I do not need them nosing into my business, or going through my trunks, or worrying about me in any way.”
“Going through your trunks?” he repeated. “What are you talking about?”
She waved irritably at him. “Just that. Someone went through the belongings I left in my trunks. Marcus, I swear I am ready to take my fist to these people.”
“Did they steal anything?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “But that is not the point. They seem determined to allow me no privacy, and with everything that happens, they go running to you.”
He was calm as he watched her pace. “It is because they know I care about you and I want to know when something is wrong.”
“I shall tell you myself if something is wrong,” she said forcefully. “I do not need the tattlers to do it for me.”
He sighed and went over to the bed, sitting heavily on the pretty coverlets. “Come here.”
“Nay,” she spat, pacing in front of him.
He reached out and grabbed her, pulling her onto his lap. She struggled for a moment, but relaxed when she realized how comforting it was to have him close. With these weeks she had spent with him, her wall had come further and further down and it was becoming easier to respond to his affections. And she so desperately craved affection at times it made her cry. She reasoned that if she could not have Christopher, then Marcus was the next best.
His dark blue eyes met her gray orbs tenderly. “Would you please tell me what’s wrong?” he asked softly. “Are you ill?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she replied, not wanting to tell him of her secret, increasingly concerned as to how he was going to react to know she carried her dead husband’s child. She knew Marcus loved her, but every man had his limit. What would the people of his keep think if they learned Marcus was in love with a woman pregnant with the child of a dead man? It would make him look like a fool. She did not want to do that to him. To save his honor, to do him this one favor when he had done so many for her, she knew what she had to do.
Dustin remembered the time long ago when they had made love. She remembered it had been powerful and lusty, but she felt as if she were betraying Christopher all over again by contemplating taking Marcus into her bed. Still, her pregnancy was early enough that she would be able to tell Marcus the child was his. But they would have to consummate their relationship soon.
Christopher was gone and she was being faithful to a memory. She loved him so much that she could not help it. Yet Marcus was here and he was real and she had grown to become very fond of him over the past several weeks. As hard as it was for her, she knew for her best interests, she needed to do what was necessary to perhaps save them both.
Marcus jolted her out of her train of thought. “Then what, Dustin?” he pressed gently. “What is it?”
She looked at him and felt the pull again. It wasn’t love, but more a sheer animal magnetism. For once in her life, she gave into the pull.
“I….Oh, Marcus!” She threw her arms around his neck in resignation. After a moment, she kissed his ear hotly. “I am glad you brought me here.” Half lie, half truth.
Marcus was pleasantly surprised. Dustin’s hot breath sent chills up his spine and the fire of desire kindling in his loins, but he banked himself. He was becoming used to banking himself where she was concerned.
“As I am, honey,” he replied. “Do you feel like going downstairs? Dud told me of a whole field of wildflowers in bloom. We can bring Christin and….”
She cut him off, pulling back to look at him with a seductive smile that made his heart leap into his throat.
“I do not want to go anywhere,” she used a tone he had never heard before. “I want to stay here. With you.”
His eyes widened and she caught the look of utter surprise. “And?” he wanted to know.
She focused on his lower lip, a masculine, sensuous thing. “I need you. I need you now.”
His jaw hung. “What?”
She ran her finger along his lower lip, feeling the desire in her veins build. What had started out as a fine job of acting was quickly becoming the real thing. He was so astonished that he wasn’t reacting to her, so she stopped her onslaught and suddenly stood up.
“Very well,” she said, rather primly. “I can see that I hold no interest to you.”
He snatched her back to him as quickly as she had risen, pulling her against him firmly. His face was an inch from her own, their eyes devouring each other.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, not even daring to hope.
She kissed his lower lip, only his lower lip, and caught it between her teeth erotically as she pulled away from him. “I am,” she whispered. “Truly, I am.”
Marcus could not believe it. His eyes raked her from her hair to her toes and he was completely at a l
oss for words. Forgoing the words, his mouth latched onto hers and in a great release of desire and passion, he pulled her back onto the bed with him.
What started out slow and completely sensual quickly grew in strength. He literally tore her surcoat from her and she let him, encouraging him with passionate words that sent his blood boiling. His own clothes came off faster than he thought possible and Dustin moaned with pure pleasure when their naked flesh came together for the first time. It was an explosion of erotic pleasure, comfort beyond imagining as his hands moved the length and breadth of her body.
For Dustin, it was purely therapeutic. She needed to be touched, needed to know that she was loved and that she was not alone. She tried to close her eyes and pretend it was Christopher, but she could not. His presence was so different from Marcus’ and she knew him better than she knew herself, and it was nearly impossible to pretend that the man holding her now was her deceased husband. She was momentarily disappointed, for she had hoped to imagine for just a moment that ’twas Christopher back with her, one more time. But her disappointment was momentary in that Marcus Burton was a man among men, not inclined to take second to anyone, especially a dead man.
He was rough with her, as she had remembered, but it fired her desire tremendously. His teeth bit at her nipples, already engorged and tender from nursing, but he was skilled enough to know how far he could go without actually hurting her. A little pain was pleasurable.
He sucked her dry on both breasts, giving Dustin so much pleasure that tears filled her eyes. She tried to make love to him, to run her hands over his massive chest or move to cup his testicles, but he would gently push her back down again and continue his attentions. Lord, he had wanted her so badly and for so long that she was going to lay there and enjoy everything he did to her, whether or not she wanted to join in. This experience was so entirely unexpected that it left him giddy.
She tasted so sweet and he sucked and tongued her in every possible place, feeling her warmth against his face Dustin relaxed completely, panting softly with his most intimate touch and giggling when he suckled her toes. He smiled back, meeting her desire-hazed gaze before quickly flipping her over on her stomach and descending on her bottom with his mouth.
Dustin moaned and writhed underneath him, even blushing when he parted her buttocks and ran his tongue the length of the crack, toying with her anus. He bought her up to her knees while her face and shoulders were still lowered into the pillow and pressed his mouth into her private center, manipulating her little bud from an entirely new angle.
Dustin immediately started to thrash with passion and he could not wait any longer. Turning her over on her back, he lowered his massive frame onto her and gently kissed her mouth.
“I want to look at your face when I make love to you,” he whispered hotly.
Breathless, she met his eyes and wrapped her pretty legs around his thighs. “Take me, my lord.”
He did. He drove into her wetness with a shout of triumph, rocking the bed with the measured power in his thrusts. She met his thrusts firmly, clinging to him as he moved within her. Christopher, Christopher, Christopher! Her mind sang over and over but she had the presence of mind not to voice her thoughts. This was Marcus now, her future husband, and she would not degrade him by thinking him to be another. Yet it wasn’t easy, her mind, her body, was geared to Christopher.
When it was over and they lay entwined in each other’s arms, Dustin thought she might actually grow to enjoy this completely one day. True, her body was satisfied by his lovemaking, but it was her mind he had to win over.
*
The next day was a difficult one for Dustin. She was embarrassed that she had responded so physically to Marcus when her heart and soul still belonged to Christopher. She was confused and angry at herself, second-guessing her reasoning for taking Marcus to her bed. Was it right to let him believe the child was his merely to save his honor? Was it then right to deny Christopher his own flesh and blood?
She just did not know anymore and was sickened over it. She knew she was a silly, weak woman and she could not truly fathom why the strongest men in the realm had loved her. She certainly did not deserve them.
She was out walking with Christin in the bailey, avoiding the curious gazes of the peasants and soldiers alike, ignoring them because she was afraid to open herself up in any way with a smile or a word. She wanted to stay to herself to try and sort out her surging emotions, hoping the sun and air would help her do just that.
Alexander jogged beside her, yapping and dancing about. Christin watched the dog intently, yelling and screeching at the animal as Dustin all but ignored the two of them, entirely lost in thought. Caesar and George had opted to stay inside and keep each other company, although Caesar was a bitter old thing these days. And he hated Marcus.
Dustin remembered when Christopher had first come to Lioncross, and how Caesar had taken to him immediately. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn that the cat was instrumental in drawing her and Christopher together. His timing had been impeccable and his moves, planned. But here at Somerhill, he hissed and scratched at Marcus as if the man were the devil. She wondered if it was because the cat felt that only Christopher had a right to his mistress.
A shadow fell across her path and she stopped, looking up to see Dud smiling at her. He was a kind man with a beaten face, and she had remembered his loyalty to her husband. She smiled back.
“My lady looks well this day,” he commented. “May I be so bold as to ask to accompany you?”
She did not want company, but she did not have the heart to refuse him. “Of course.”
He fell in beside her and they walked in silence, pacing the dusty ground of the bailey.
“Your lady daughter is looking more like her father every day,” he remarked.
Dustin looked at Christin. “Do you think so?”
“Aye,” he agreed. “Verily, she has the shape of his face, and his mouth. I can see him when she smiles.”
Dustin studied her daughter’s face a moment. “She will know about her father, Dud. I want Christin to grow up hearing of him every day so that she feels that she knows him.”
Dud’s smile faded a bit when he remembered the look Marcus had given him as he had told stories of Christopher. The man was bitterly possessive about this woman and her child. “She will, my lady,” he said. “I will tell her myself when she is old enough to understand.”
“Would you?” Dustin turned to him earnestly. “I would like that very much. You have known him much longer than I have.”
He was not surprised by the sincerity in her voice; he knew how much she and the baron had loved one another and it almost made him resent Marcus for interfering.
“I promise that Lady Christin will know all there is to know about her father. Well, almost everything,” he chuckled.
Dustin smirked and shook her head. “I do not even want to know about those things,” she said stiffly, then glanced at him sideways. “Was my husband….I mean, did he have other women when you knew him?”
Dud looked thoughtful, hell, he could think of a dozen offhand, but nothing more than passing fancies. Christopher loved to admire beautiful women, women who had thrown themselves at him, but he had never shown much interest in them beyond a roll in bed. Dud had known Christopher since they had been young knights, many years ago, and he had seen and heard of Christopher’s escapades with Marcus and David. But did he have a serious woman? He recalled one, a Lady Amanda, but naught much else to the story.
Dustin was waiting for an answer as he recollected. He saw her expectant face and cleared his throat. “Outside of a wench here and there, no one that I am aware of. Christopher lived cleaner than most knights.”
Relieved, Dustin smiled and nodded, shifting Christin to the other hip. “Tell me more of his adventures in the Holy Land.”
Dud grinned, clasping his hands behind his back as he thought. “Let me see, now. Did I tell you the story of the inn in Damascus?
Aye, I told you that last night.” His brow furrowed. “How about the road to Antioch? Or the two nights we spent in Joppa when the Muslims were running rampant about the place looking for us?” When Dustin shook her head, he smiled broadly and continued with his story.
He was nearly finished with the exciting story about Joppa when one of the main players of the tale marched up in jingling mail. Marcus’ face was grim; he knew Dud had been filling her head full of Christopher’s tales and he was angered.
“Don’t you have duties, Dudley?” he asked coldly.
Dud’s eyes actually narrowed, a rare occurrence for the no questions asked obedient knight. He was doing nothing wrong and did not appreciate the tone taken, yet he knew it was Marcus’ jealousy talking.
“They are completed for this morn, my lord,” he replied respectfully. “I was simply talking to Lady de Lohr.” He deliberately used her title if for nothing more than to remind Marcus as to who she was.
Marcus’ stiffened with hostility. “Then find something else to do. I shall take the lady from here.”
Dustin could sense the animosity and it confused her. Dud bowed quickly and was gone before she could thank him and Marcus instantly took his place.
“Where were you walking to?” he asked nicely.
She eyed him. “Why were you so rude to him?”
He raised his eyebrow. “I wasn’t. Where are you going?”
“Aye, you were,” she snapped, turning her back on him and beginning to walk away.
He caught up to her. “Do not turn your back on me. I asked you a question.”
“And I asked you one. Answer mine and I shall answer yours,” she said evenly.
His first reaction was to flare but he calmed himself. They walked several feet before he answered. “Let me make myself clear, Lady Dustin. I do not take orders from you. Requests I will honor, but anything other than a polite question will not receive an answer. Additionally, I expect you to respond to and obey me as a proper lady should. I am master here, not you.”
Dustin did not answer a moment, feeling particularly stubborn. She was so used to having Marcus bow to her every whim that she did not like it when he pulled rank on her.
The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 85