Chapter Nine #7
The serving wench was in a panic and Dustin looked to Christopher and his men to see if one of them would move to aid the wench.
No one did. Frustrated, Dustin was about to say something to David but a cry from the serving woman interrupted her.
The knights were starting to stick their hands up her skirt.
Dustin, unable to control her mouth, burst out angrily.
“Leave her alone, you pigs,” she snapped. “Keep your fat, filthy hands off of her!”
The entire table of knights turned to her, their anger quickly turning into open appraisal of the serving woman’s defender.
“Come over here, wench, and I shall put my fat and filthy hands all over you,” one man said and the entire table roared with approval. “God, you are a lovely little chit. Good knights, pray be kind to her. I should like to have your leftovers when you are finished.”
Christopher got up, as did the rest of his knights. Huge and powerful and imposing, he rushed to the other table of men in less than a second, his sword drawn. He knocked one man who leapt up clear across another table, grabbing the offending knight by his armor and slamming him to the ground.
Everyone was shouting and bellowing, the sounds of swords being unsheathed filling the warm, stale air. Dustin lunged for the serving girl, pulling her out of the way as Leeton grabbed them both. David left them to plunge feet-first into the blossoming melee, sword in hand.
Leeton jerked her halfway up the flight of stairs when she realized that the skirmish had turned into an out-and-out brawl.
She clung to the bannister as Leeton yanked at her, watching her husband beat the senses out of some hapless fool.
She should have been mortified, but instead, she was mesmerized and strangely energized by the sight.
She knew Leeton was trying to remove her, but she just didn’t want to go.
She wanted to see the fight, and help if she could.
“Give it to him, Chris!” she yelled, ignoring Leeton’s tugs. “Beat him!”
Suddenly, a knight charged at her and Leeton thrust himself forward, kicking the man in the face and sending him tumbling back down the stairs. Dustin crowed triumphantly.
“That will teach you, you bastard,” she said, clapping her hands.
Leeton looked at her with amusement and horror, a strange expression indeed. “My lady, you will come with me now or I will carry you.”
She opened her mouth to reply when another knight was bearing down upon them.
Dustin, gripping the railing, kicked the man squarely in the chest plate and sent him rolling, pleased with her handiwork.
Shocked, Leeton didn’t know whether to laugh or spank her.
He could not believe what he was seeing, and he could not believe he was allowing it to go on.
The brawl transformed from a fistfight to a swordfight, and the air was full of the sounds of metal on metal.
Dustin knew that the fight had gone beyond her, and she reluctantly followed Leeton up the stairs, watching what was going on over her shoulder.
She could see Christopher engaged with a rather large man, their swords hitting so hard that sparks flew.
David, Edward, and Marcus were involved in their own vicious battles, but Dustin’s eyes were on her husband.
Christopher swung the sword with incredible confidence and power.
He easily dispatched two of the men before kicking over a large table and marching over it to assist his brother.
With David’s opponent gored, it was no time before the hostile knights collected and turned tail, dragging their wounded comrades with them.
As quickly as it started, the battle ended, and Christopher slammed the inn door behind the retreaters so hard that the entire building shook.
He was winded, but not because he was tired. He was so damn angry that he shoved his sword back in its scabbard hard enough to drive the tip through the reinforced end. His gaze went to his wife, standing at the top of the stairs with Leeton a step or two below her, and pointed a massive finger.
“To the room!” he roared.
Dustin jumped, truly puzzled at his reaction. Her shock turned to anger. “Well, you don’t have to yell about it.”
Christopher didn’t reply, but his jaw was ticking. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he made his way through the debris and took the stairs two at a time. Leeton gave him a wide berth as he came up on his wife, huffing and puffing, his cheeks flushed with fury.
“To the room, now, or I will spank you right here in front of everyone,” he seethed.
Dustin’s eyes widened and she obeyed, gathering her skirts and hustling down the hall. Christopher, pausing a moment to utter a prayer to God to give him patience, followed.
The knights heard the chamber door slam close upstairs, and silently they began to right fallen chairs and see to the broken tables.
They were moving silently and efficiently when Leeton began to laugh.
Edward glanced at the man as if he were crazy, but caught onto his mirth before he knew it, and he too began to choke with laughter.
David chimed in with his high-pitched giggle, followed by Marcus and the others until the entire room was screaming with laughter.
“Why are you laughing?” the innkeeper implored, devastated by the sight of his common room.
David wiped his eyes. “Because my brother has married a troublemaker and he is too besotted to notice.”
“He notices,” Edward corrected him. “But he chooses not to care.”
*
Upstairs, Christopher slammed the door and bolted it as Dustin ran to the other side of the room, her eyes wide. He ripped off his helmet and tossed it aside, unbuckling his sword and scabbard and letting them clatter to the floor. Dustin watched his angry, jerky movements apprehensively.
“Are you going to spank me?” she asked fearfully.
He didn’t look at her as his breast plate fell heavily to the floor and he ripped off his hauberk. “God knows I should,” he muttered angrily. “I should spank you so hard that you blister, but then you wouldn’t be able to travel to London. Hell, it would serve you right if I left you here.”
Her big gray eyes filled with hot tears. “You wouldn’t, would you?”
His head came up and he tried not to be swayed by the tears. “I should.”
Her lower lip quivered. “I am sorry. I did not mean to start the fight.”
He took a cleansing breath, calming his boiling blood.
Her tears were cooling his fury. “You didn’t start the fight,” he struggled to stay calm.
“But you know you should have left with Leeton. He was trying to be gentle in removing you. Next time I will give him permission to manhandle you like a sack of oats.”
She blinked her tears away. “But I was in no danger on the stairs. I wanted to watch you fight.”
“Why?” he implored. “In God’s name, why, Dustin? Leeton was trying to get you to safety.”
She could not answer him. Instead, she sat on the edge of the bed and pouted. He marched over to her, his massive hands resting on his hips.
“Listen to me well, lady, for I will not repeat this,” he said lowly.
“You will always do what is asked of you, without question or hesitation. You could have been in great danger in there. What if Leeton had been felled somehow and you had been at the mercy of one of those cretins? Would you have my attention divided in a swordfight so that instead of focusing on my opponent, I am worrying about you, giving my enemy an opportunity to gut me? I do not give you orders to hear my own voice, my lady. I do it because I know what is best for you. You will never again disobey nor question me, or so help me I will lock you in a room at Lioncross and throw away the key.”
Dustin hung her head, completely remorseful. “I am sorry, Christopher. I…I did not think.”
“I know you did not,” he said harshly. “That is your problem, which is why I think for you.”
Her head snapped up to him and he caught a flash of resentment. “Not in every matter, husband. I can think well for myself.”
“Dustin!” he snapped, smacking a balled fist into his hand.
But he forced himself to calm, turning away from her in agitation.
“I am not arguing your ability to think for yourself, but you are a naive woman. You must trust me with your safety, and with other important matters. I am smarter than you are.”
Her mouth opened in outrage, but wisely, said nothing.
She stood up and unfastened her surcoat, allowing the garment to fall to her feet.
Angrily, she tore off the woolen boots and woolen hose and kicked everything into a big pile.
Then she moved to the huge bed and yanked back the coverlet, settling herself with loud, furious movements before jerking the covers back over her.
Christopher watched her, knowing how hard it was for her to bite her tongue. But he was right and she knew it.
“So that is it?” he said. “Not even a thank you for saving your virtue?”
Her blond head came up, her hair tousled wildly and her face red with fury. “Oh… go to… go sleep with your knights.”
Her anger amused him, but he kept his humor banked. “Very well, then, you ungrateful creature, next time I shall let any man who pleases ravage you.”
She brushed the hair from her face in outrage. “Just let them try. I shall drive their nose clear through their brain.” She sat up, her anger gaining speed. “And I didn’t need you to protect me, anyway. I do just fine by myself, or do I have to wield a pick axe to remind you?”
“You do not,” he said, calmer now. “And you do need me, lady, whether or not you care to admit it.”
She let out a grunt of frustration and fell back onto the bed, beating her pillow to make it comfortable. She was far too angry to respond, another word from him would have her throwing things, and she remembered what happened the last time she did that. So she chose to ignore him.