Chapter Forty-Six #2
She was truly miserable. Hercules had a smooth gate, but the very rocking motion worsened her condition.
The constant taste of bile coated her mouth and all she wanted to do was lay down and sleep for a week.
In fact, her breasts ached terribly with each jostle of the horse and her stomach wasn’t only upset, it was sore as well.
She could only remember feeling this badly once in her life, when she was first pregnant with Christin, and… .
Dustin forgot all about her churning stomach and her shaking hands. In that instant, all of the clues came into focus and she realized with an explosion of jubilation that she was pregnant again.
Her hand flew to her abdomen, trying to remember when she had her last menses and she could not.
In fact, she hadn’t had her cycle since she conceived Christin and she was nearly wild with excitement.
Thank you, God! She cried silently, over and over again, singing it in her heart and soul until tears of joy filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
She dashed them away, wanting her moment of happiness to be a private one for now.
If Marcus saw her tears, he would demand to know why she was crying and she did not feel like sharing her secret with him yet.
This was her personal moment to share with her deceased husband, wherever he might be.
As much as Christopher had loved Christin, she knew he would be absolutely ecstatic with another child. Another legacy.
Dustin blinked back more happy tears as she touched her stomach gently. She knew without a doubt ’twas a son she carried beneath her heart.
*
Somerhill was a lovely place. As lovely as Lioncross was.
Somerhill was magnificent and well kept, and Dustin knew Marcus was responsible for the condition of the keep.
It sat on a rise overlooking the river and protected a fairly large village.
Even as they rode into town, peasants turned out to greet Marcus, and Dustin was impressed with the respect the man had earned from his people.
Christopher hadn’t had the time to mingle much with his vassals since the majority of his time had been spent away from Lioncross, but Marcus had had ample time to get to know his people considering he had been holed up in the structure for nearly a year.
Women handed Dustin several bouquets of new spring flowers and she buried her nose in them, inhaling their heady fragrance.
The world around them was thawing in the early spring and Dustin’s mood was lightened.
A new baby, a new world, and a new keep that loomed before her against the late afternoon sky.
“Marcus, it is beautiful,” she remarked.
He reined his white steed close to her. “Do you like it? I am rather proud of it. It’s not as massive as Lioncross, but I like it.”
“Oh, no, it is much taller than Lioncross,” Dustin said, indicating the two massive towers that stretched heavenward. “We do not have any towers.”
The gates were already open and Marcus’ men were greeting him home with shouts and waves.
The party entered into the outer bailey, for there were two, and Marcus’ knights began disbanding the army and ordered the wagons unloaded.
The bailey quickly turned into a rushing mass of people, all moving about their assigned tasks.
Dustin simply sat high atop Hercules, absorbing it all.
Marcus was then beside her, holding up his arms to help her. With a smile that she truly felt this time, she slid into his arms and he lowered her gently to the ground.
“I hope you shall be happy here, honey,” he said softly. “I have come to love it a great deal.”
She patted his arm reassuringly. “I can see why. It is a beautiful place.” She only remarked on the latter of his statement.
Marcus did not let her go for a moment and Dustin felt a distinct pull between them; those cobalt-blue eyes were captivating.
She remembered the very first time she ever looked into them, she had felt the exact same pull.
She knew it would be very easy to love Marcus, but she could not let herself.
She only loved Christopher, and the thought of even considering loving Marcus brought floods of guilt.
Clearing her throat, she stepped back as Sir Stephen Marion brought Christin over to them.
Her daughter was wrapped in enough wool and fur to keep several peasant children cozy and looked as round as a fat, ripe melon.
Her sweet cherub face was the only thing visible, but the wrappings waved wildly when she saw her mother.
“Hello, sweet pea.” Marcus touched the babe’s cheek as she was placed in her mother’s arms. “Jesus, Dustin, unwrap that babe or she will suffocate.”
Dustin grinned, indeed taking off the outer layer of clothing. “The wet nurse is fearful she will catch cold this far north.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Bundled like that, she is going to sweat to death first.” He turned to Sir Stephen. “Tell Dud we have gone inside and help him with Lady Dustin’s belongings. They will go in the chamber next to mine. And ask Iris which room the baby and the wet nurse are to be housed.”
Stephen, a very handsome blond man that reminded Dustin a good deal of David, saluted smartly and was gone.
“Who’s Iris?” Dustin asked.
“My chatelaine,” he replied. “But I am sure with you here, I will not be needing her services any longer.”
“Marcus, keep the woman,” Dustin insisted. “I am a terrible chatelaine.”
He took her arm and turned her toward the inner bailey. “You are not. Lioncross is the best run keep I have ever seen.”
“Thanks to Gowen and Edward,” she told him. “Surely you saw that they were in charge, and not me.”
He shrugged. “I assumed that was because you had been grief-stricken for so long that they had voluntarily taken over your duties.”
Dustin shook her head. “Obviously, you know nothing about me,” she said lightly.
“In hindsight, I suppose I should blame my parents for not insisting that I learn things all young ladies should learn, but they let me do whatever I pleased. I hated dancing, sewing, managing a household, all the things that well-bred young women needed to learn. I did learn to do needlepoint and paint because my mother absolutely insisted. But most of the time, I ran with the peasant boys and learned to ride and hunt and fish. Do you know that I can build a boat, and raise a hut in a mere few hours? Certainly not things required by a chatelaine.”
He grinned, noticing the looks from his men as he brought her into the inner bailey. They were looking at Dustin as if she were the goddess Aphrodite on his arm.
“So you can build?” he said. “Impressive. What else can you do?”
She warmed to the pleasant mood. “I can fight, but, of course, you already know that.”
He raised a black eyebrow reprovingly. “I have no firsthand knowledge of it, but I have seen you. Were you any taller, I would take you into battle with me.”
She laughed and his heart skipped a beat. It was so good to see her laugh.
“I would be your very best knight, too, and you know it.” When he shrugged in agreement, she continued.
“My father taught me to read and write, and I can do mathematics and debate philosophy. Father was proud of my accomplishments, even though they were not the usual accomplishments of noble ladies.”
Marcus wriggled his eyebrows. “True enough, but you are not a usual noble lady,” he replied as they mounted the low step that led into his keep.
He stopped her there, focusing on her beautiful face.
“Truly, Dustin, I want you to be happy here. I am well aware of your feelings and your fears, and I promise I shall do naught to antagonize you. But you know my feelings, too, and I am not usually a patient man. But I shall be with you, I promise.”
He kissed her free hand sweetly and she felt her wall going down just a bit. His manner was gentle and she liked that.
“Thank you, Marcus,” she said softly. “I appreciate everything you have done for Christin and myself, and in spite of what David and Edward think, I believe Christopher would approve.”
Marcus nodded his head chivalrously in thanks just as a big, bosomy woman with a tall white bun on her head appeared at the door.
“Great Walls of Jericho!” she roared. “Is this your Lady Dustin, Marcus? Get her in here before she and that babe catch their death of chill.”
Dustin looked at the woman with surprise as a fat hand shot out and hustled her inside. Marcus, with a quirky grin on his face, followed close on her heels.
In the warm, dim entryway, the woman put up a tremendous fuss over Christin, and Dustin wasn’t sure if she should protect her child or hand her over. Obviously, this was Iris.
“You never said we were going to have a babe in the house,” Iris scolded Marcus, then turned sweetly to Christin. “Oh, Marcus, she is beautiful. I cannot remember when there was a babe in the keep last. What is her name?”
“Christin,” Dustin replied. “And she’s cutting teeth, so beware.”
“Teeth!” Iris said it as if it were the most wonderful thing on earth. “I shall give her a bone to chew on. That will take care of her teeth.”
Dustin could not help grinning as she glanced at Marcus, and he returned her expression. Iris was holding out her hands expectantly.
“Give me the sweet little peapod and I shall take care of her,” the old woman begged firmly. “You, my lady, look as if you could use a bath and some rest. Sara is upstairs filling a tub for you already.”
Dustin looked uncertain; but Marcus smiled. “Thank you, Iris. My lady could indeed use the rest.”
Reluctantly, Dustin handed Christin over to the woman and the housekeeper immediately began crooning and singing to the babe, her manner gentle as one has to be around infants. Marcus watched Dustin’s face as Iris took Christin away.
“Do not look like that,” he said softly. “She has six children of her own and is quite competent. She will see that Christin is bathed and fed.”
“But I wanted to do it,” Dustin lamented.