Chapter Forty-Six
Marcus and Dustin left just after dawn. Bundled up against the cold, she rode Hercules out of the massive gates, tears stinging her eyes.
David had left without a word before she had even awoken and her heart was saddened.
She suspected that Marcus knew the reason, but she would ask him later.
Now, as she left her home, was not the time.
Alexander, George, Caesar and Christin were huddled in a large, protected wagon, watched over by the wet nurse who would be doubling as Christin’s nursemaid.
The woman was big and shy, and wet-nursing was her vocation since her youngest child was twelve.
Dustin had found it hard to believe that the woman would like breastfeeding so much that she would continue it for years on end.
But she loved Christin and Marcus felt comfortable with the woman, so he allowed her to accompany them to Somerhill.
Marcus had remarked that the wagon looked more like a zoo than a nursery, for the animals outnumbered the people, but Dustin insisted on taking all of her animals.
Especially Caesar; he was old but she would not leave him behind as she had when she had left for London.
She wanted her oldest friend with her, and she needed him now more than ever.
Richard saw them off, begging the privilege of staying on at Lioncross a few more days to rest before returning to Windsor and the troubles that awaited him there.
Dustin was happy to comply, and Edward was the perfect host. They had spoken privately earlier about her future plans and Edward assured her that Lioncross would still be standing should she ever choose to return.
It was a bittersweet goodbye between them, for Edward seemed to be the last of Christopher’s knights who hadn’t been affected by everything that had happened.
As she left the gates, Harold came racing up beside her, barking furiously.
Dustin almost went to pieces. Harold had not accompanied Christopher on his fateful mission because the dog had been ill after killing and eating a whole chicken.
Christopher had been sorry not to have his mascot and as Dustin looked down at the dog, all she could think about was her husband falling and dying in battle without his dog there to comfort him.
Hot tears fell on the breast of her cloak as she tried to reason with Harold to stay behind.
He belonged at Lioncross, if for no other reason than to protect Christopher’s phantom.
She truly believed the dog belonged there.
Harold, remarkably, stopped at the gate and sat down, still barking and wagging his tail as Dustin continued on.
She watched the little mongrel for a few moments, still waiting for him to follow and pleased when he did not.
Mayhap all of his barking was not asking to accompany her; it was asking her to stay.
Dashing away the remainder of her tears, she turned forward and found Marcus smiling at her.
She gave him a small smile and lowered her gaze.
Her last glimpse of Lioncross as they crested the hill and turned north was amazingly clear and bright.
The sun was out and the snow had melted, cleaning everything and making the world fresh and new.
Her heart lurched with longing and grief, but Marcus reached out and touched her arm, murmuring encouraging words.
With a resigned sigh, Dustin turned her back on Christopher’s home. She never looked back.
They stopped for the night and made camp.
Marcus and Sir Thomas Dudley, or “Dud” from their London days, rigged up an excellent tent using the bed of the wagon for a bed.
Christin was asleep next to the wet nurse as soon as Dustin lay her down.
Marcus and Dustin then shared a quiet supper later that evening as his men rigged several tarpaulins to keep the moisture away through the night.
Dustin wondered if Marcus expected her to sleep with him.
She was not surprised to learn that he did expect them to sleep together, giving her a myriad of sound reasons as to why she should not sleep alone.
Dustin begged off politely, saying she would rather sleep in the wagon with her daughter.
She could see that Marcus was disappointed, but he graciously backed off and made sure she was given the very best and thickest blankets.
The knights retired for the night, as did the men-at-arms, and the camp quieted rapidly, leaving Dustin and Marcus alone by the camp fire.
“Well, I am rather tired,” she said softly. “I would retire now. Goodnight, Marcus.”
“Dustin,” he said quickly, pausing almost uncomfortably when she turned around and looked at him. “Are you quite sure… I mean, the tent would be less crowded and….”
Dustin smiled faintly, shaking her head.
“Thank you, but no,” she replied, seeing that he truly was disappointed.
She understood his feelings, but he had to understand hers.
“Marcus, I am simply not ready for you. Your presence is comforting and I am grateful for your generosity toward Christin and myself, but I am simply not ready for your affections.”
He kicked at the ground a moment, embarrassed at his eagerness. “Is it that obvious? I am sorry, Dustin. I am not trying to push you.”
She walked over to him, putting her hand on his arm. “I know you are not, but you are nonetheless. Give me time, Marcus. I need time to heal.”
He took her hand and put her palm to his scratchy cheek, his cobalt-blue eyes soft. “I know you do. And I want to help you, if I can. Dustin, I do so want to be close to you. I have always wanted to be close to you.”
She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You are pushing again.”
He pretended to slap himself in the head. “Old habits die hard. Well, let’s get you to bed.”
He took her arm and started to lead her toward the wagon when she suddenly stopped.
She reconsidered sleeping with him for a split second and the thought of massive, strong arms around her and a warm body to snuggle against was very inviting.
Lord, it had been so long since Christopher had held her and there was a huge void inside her wishing to be held and comforted.
Marcus understood she was not giving him permission to ravage her, and she was confident he would not.
But lying in his arms, she might even be strong enough to pretend it was Christopher; just for a moment.
“I think you are right,” she turned her face up to him.
“About what?”
“Sleeping under your protection. Plus, the wagon is crowded. I will probably not sleep at all with the baby snoring and the dogs in my face.”
He looked surprised. “Are you sure?”
She nodded slowly. “Aye, I am.”
Snuggled against Marcus was a thoroughly cleansing experience, cleansing in that it helped dash some of her doubts and fears about her future.
She could close her eyes and feel his strength and it helped her a great deal.
But as she lay in his arms, she was equally sure of one thing; she could never love Marcus Burton.
She could be fond of him, bear his children even, but she could never love him.
Her love would always and forever be Christopher’s.
*
The rest of the trip was uneventful, even if the weather was miserable.
After the first night they slept in each other’s arms, Dustin found that her wall was up with him.
Sleeping in his arms was well enough, but he wanted more and she wasn’t willing to give more.
So Dustin kept her wall up between her and Marcus, and the more her mind cleared, the more she wondered just what in the hell she was doing with him.
The plan to go to Somerhill had seemed so positive from the beginning and she was sure that a change of scenery would be the best thing for her, but as her wits returned, she missed Lioncross terribly.
With each mile passed, she regretted her decision more and more and was forced to admit that David and Edward may have been right.
She had acted in haste, wanting some sort of relief from her grief but not knowing what, and she took the first opportunity that arose.
But she would not return home, at least not immediately.
Give Marcus a chance, she told herself. Mayhap he can at least bring a ray of joy back into your life if you will only let him.
With the shock of Christopher’s death wearing off, and the return of normalcy to her character in sight, Dustin realized that the rest of her life was to be a very gray, bitter thing.
The only person who could possibly give her any happiness was Marcus Burton.
The very last day before they reached Somerhill dawned gray and foggy and heavy with mist. Christin had been up all night long cutting a new tooth and Dustin was exhausted, even though Marcus had spoiled her for a few hours.
Her fatigue, coupled with the constant travel, had upset her stomach terribly.
She coaxed a few bites of breakfast down, hoping to calm her jitters, but everything she ate came right back up again and she felt worse than before.
Marcus was gravely concerned for her and insisted they rest for the day, but she insisted more firmly that they continue.
Two hundred men-at-arms and six knights were eager to return to their keep, not to mention Dustin and Marcus and the rest of them.
She would not halt progress due to her nervous stomach.
Pale and sick, Marcus loaded her up onto Hercules with great hesitation. He wanted her to ride with him, but she waved him off. She would ride to Somerhill alone.