Chapter Three
Jeffrey returned with the priest four hours later, Christopher was sure, just to spite him.
The big German barely acknowledged him and when he did, it was usually curt and bordering on rude.
David and Edward were furious about it but Christopher waved them off.
The man was as good as gone, anyway, and he banished him from the castle and from the wedding in a show of complete control, daring the surly bastard to challenge him.
Jeffrey retreated without a word, but Christopher didn’t trust the man.
It was well after dark when Christopher and the other knights assembled in the great hall of Lioncross.
It was a cavernous place with vaulted ceilings and an enormous fireplace with a great lion’s head carved into it.
The servants had put fresh rushes on the floor and two banks of expensive tallow candles burned brightly.
Lady Mary had even insisted that precious frankincense be burned in honor of her daughter’s wedding, the pungent scent mingling with the heavy smell of smoke.
Christopher stood in his armor, having not even bothered to bathe or shave.
This ceremony was simply a formality and meant nothing to him other than the fact that Lioncross Abbey would legally be his.
He was eager to count the wealth in the coffers and get started on improving the structure.
He stood, waiting impatiently, for his bride and her mother to appear.
David stood beside him, but Edward and the other knights were hitting the fine French wine pretty hard, beginning to get rather loud and boisterous. Edward was a lively sort and could drink with the best of them, and Christopher enjoyed the man greatly.
Christopher watched him gulping from his goblet, laughing with Leeton.
He and Edward had fought with Richard for three years and he had come to think of the man as his second brother.
He was tall and dashingly handsome with his dark hair and golden eyes, and he could fight with the best of them.
His father, Robert, was the Earl of Wolverhampton and Edward would inherit the title upon the man’s death.
Robert de Wolfe was still in the Holy Land with Richard.
He and Edward had gone together to fight with Richard, but Edward left with Christopher.
Robert and another knight by the name of Royce Culbertson had become the very best of friends, with Royce having been with Richard since the beginning of the crusade and marrying a Saracen woman the very first year.
Royce had sent his wife and baby daughter home to England the very next year, and the child was now three years old.
Much to Edward’s horror, Robert and Royce had drawn up a marriage contract between their two children, and Edward had come home to visit his betrothed, who was exactly twenty-four years younger than him.
Edward had protested the ridiculous match but his father insisted.
Christopher could sympathize with him, marrying a girl he had no interest in, but he was jolted from his thoughts by the appearance of the priest. The man politely requested the knights to gather about Christopher, indicating that Lady Dustin and Lady Mary were approaching.
Fighting down a resurgence of reluctance, Christopher glanced up and caught a glimpse of the two women on the balcony above the great hall as they made their way to the staircase.
He didn’t get a good look at Dustin until she descended the stairs and entered the room, holding her mother’s arm.
Then, he found he could not take his eyes off her.
She was dressed in a creamy yellow silk surcoat, well off her beautiful shoulders and embroidered in gold thread.
It was a bit snug, perhaps too snug, and revealed her figure plainly.
Christopher had never gawked at a woman in his life and tore himself away from her lest he make this the first time.
But he realized one thing, David had been right.
She did have magnificent breasts. In fact, there wasn’t one thing about the woman that wasn’t magnificent and he was stunned, suddenly feeling self-conscious of his less-than-kempt appearance.
He found himself regretting he had not bathed.
“I do apologize for our tardiness,” Mary said softly. “Are we ready to begin?”
“Aye,” Christopher stepped forward, gazing impassively at Dustin before looking at the priest. “You may begin, Father.”
Throughout the quick ceremony, Dustin held onto her mother. The action irritated Christopher and he glared in the direction of the women only to realize that Lady Mary did not look at all well. Instead of Dustin grasping her mother for support, it was the other way around.
But they had to let go of each other when Christopher moved to place a pretty gold band on Dustin’s finger. Dustin gazed down at it, puzzled that he had actually taken the trouble to purchase one. She turned her sweet face up to him questioningly.
“I picked it up in London,” he told her emotionlessly. “ ’Twas a bargain.”
Her face washed with a stony expression and she lowered her head.
The one thing that might have brought a small amount of pleasantness to an otherwise distressing event was of no worth, either.
Dustin didn’t know why she had hoped he might have taken some care in choosing a ring, mayhap it was the romantic inside her.
After all, weren’t weddings supposed to be a happy occasion?
Dustin felt as though she might as well be attending a funeral mass… her own.
The priest gave the final blessing and benediction, and Christopher paid him well. Mary kissed her daughter’s cheek and, still clutching her arm, moved to Christopher.
“Welcome to Lioncross, my lord,” she said. “I pray that you and Dustin will have as much happiness here as Arthur and I did.”
Christopher was preparing a harsh retort but he simply could not bring himself to reply to the gentle woman in such a manner. She looked very tired, even more so than earlier in the day, and he attributed it to the fact that the woman had just only learned of her husband’s death.
“Thank you, my lady,” he said simply.
Lady Mary smiled then turned to her daughter. “Come now, dear. We must help the men with their meal.”
Dustin gave Christopher a baleful glare before following her mother into the kitchens.
The knights settled themselves around the huge oaken table and Christopher found himself running his hand along the surface.
His table. He glanced up, looking at the open-beamed ceiling thirty feet above him.
His keep. All of it was his. He sighed with satisfaction.
His happiness would have been complete had one very large stipulation not come with all of this wealth.
As if she heard his thoughts, Dustin came whisking back into the hall bearing a huge trencher filled to overflowing for her new husband. She set it down heavily before him, slopping over a bit onto the table, and went to retrieve him a goblet of wine.
Her movements were sharp and angry and he found himself watching her with some amusement. When she moved close to him to pour the wine, he smelled roses. He found the scent heady and was undecided as to whether or not it was pleasant.
“Are you to serve me always?” he asked.
She didn’t look at him. “My mother said I should tonight as a show of respect for my new husband.”
He nodded, studying her more closely than he ever had. David had told him, Leeton had told him, and Edward had told him. They all knew it, as did he. She was indeed beautiful and he was still amazed at his luck.
“I wish for you to serve me at every meal,” he said, turning his attention to his food.
“I am not a serving wench,” she said stiffly.
“Nay, you are not, you are my wife and I wish for you to serve me at every meal,” he repeated calmly, picking up a bit of stringy beef.
Dustin stood back, watching him eat with gusto.
Her jaw ticked with outrage at his order.
She was not a serving wench and how dare he lower her to that station.
But her fury was cut short when she saw her mother, her weak arms shaking, attempting to serve David.
The trencher was about to end up in the knight’s lap.
Discreetly taking the food from her mother, she served her husband’s brother herself.
“Thank you, Lady de Lohr,” he smiled sweetly at her.
Dustin blinked at the sound of her new title, managing a brief nod before retreating with her mother for the rest of the meal.
David grinned into his food when she had gone. “She hates that name.”
“What name?” Christopher asked.
“Lady de Lohr,” his brother snickered.
Christopher took a big bite of beef. “That is her misfortune.”
The meal was long. Dustin and her mother sat at the end of the table in silence, listening to the strange laughter and conversation.
Dustin never looked at her new husband, but she was certainly becoming accustomed to his voice.
It was deep and rich, and his laugh was throaty.
It could become quite easy to like his voice, for it was masculine and comforting.
But she would not allow herself to like any part of him.
She was beginning to recognize the knight’s voices as well.
David’s was higher pitched and gentle, Edward’s was loud and exciting.
She also learned their names by listening to them address one another, for her husband had not even had the courtesy to introduce them to her.
She finished her meal quietly, not having eaten more than a few bites.
She didn’t even notice her mother had not eaten at all.
The meal concluded very late and Dustin was exhausted. While the serving women cleared the table of trenchers and clutter, Dustin rose.
“My lord,” she forced herself to look at Christopher. “I would ask permission to retire.”