Chapter Six
Dustin bathed and changed her clothing mid-morning.
Neither was necessary, yet she did it anyway.
She rationalized that taking the bath was essential because she still stank of the poison Christopher had rubbed on her, but the dress was fairly clean.
For some reason, she didn’t want to wear the dress anymore.
She went across the hall to her mother’s room and rummaged through the big wardrobe, inspecting each dress in turn.
Her mother had been a slight, frail thing, and Dustin barely fit into her clothes, but they were very nice clothes and she suddenly felt a need to dress a bit nicer than her usual.
Strange, because she had never given much thought to her appearance.
Even as she selected her mother’s indigo-blue brocade and carried it back across the hall, she didn’t know why she was bothering.
She needed help putting the dress on, a rare occurrence indeed. The serving wench who tended her grunted and tugged, but finally managed to get the dress secured. Dustin dismissed her and went back across the hall to look at herself in her mother’s mirror; she didn’t even have one in her own room.
Much to her surprise, the dress didn’t look all that bad.
In fact, it accentuated her curves quite nicely and she found herself gazing back at her own reflection, turning back and forth in the light and admiring the fabric.
It was a scoop neck, long-sleeved design that flattered her slim waist and full breasts.
Her mother used to wear the surcoat with a collar and a wimple, but Dustin always hated to be restricted that way.
For her, a corset was about the limit of the severe trappings she would wear, and her mother had even had to plead with her to get her to put it on.
The matching slippers were far too small, she knew that already. Yet she had a pair of durable black leather slippers that went quite nicely, although she thought she might visit the cobbler and see if he could make her a pair to match the surcoat.
Back in her room, she brushed her long, straight, silky hair until it gleamed.
She had a natural cowlick on the left side of her forehead, right on the hairline, so she always wore her hair parted on the left.
Even as long as it was, she wore it free and pulled it over her right shoulder and let it hang like a waterfall, cascading over her breast and falling to her groin.
Dustin looked down at herself, wondering why on earth she had gone through the trouble to bathe and change and brush and primp.
After all, she was simply going into town to see Rebecca, and her friend didn’t care how she looked.
With a confused shake of her head, she went to find Sir Christopher, as he requested.
The day had dawned clear and in actuality, a bit warm. She squinted under the bright sunlight, looking about for the tall, blond man who was her husband. The first person she ran into was Jeffrey.
“My lady.” he greeted her with a smile.
She smiled back. “Hello, Jeffrey.”
“You look very lovely,” he observed. “The dress looks better on you than it did on your mother.”
“Mother had a great many dresses, although I think most of them are far too small,” she said. “Mother was terribly tiny.”
Jeffrey nodded in agreement. “God rest her soul, my lady. I apologize for not attending her funeral yesterday, but with most all of the knights seeing to her burial, I could not leave the keep.”
“I understand,” Dustin said, sad anew at the mention of her mother. “You always were terribly loyal, Jeffrey, and mother knew that. In fact….” She suddenly jumped and her hands flew to her back. “Ouch!”
“What is it?” Jeffrey asked, concerned.
She was fumbling with something on her back, twisting awkwardly. “Damnation! A stay has snapped.”
He turned her around. “Let me see.”
Christopher rounded the corner with David just in time to see Jeffrey fumbling with the back of Dustin’s dress. Before he realized what he was doing, he charged the big Germanic knight and felled the man with one huge blow to the jaw.
Jeffrey went sprawling, blood spattering on the dust. Dustin yelped, terrified, as David pulled her clear of the fight. Christopher descended on Jeffrey like God’s wrath, grabbing the man around the top of his armor and hauling him quite effortlessly to his feet for another round.
“Christopher,” Dustin shrieked. “What are you doing?”
He paused a brief second. It was the first time he had ever heard her use his Christian name. When he looked at her, she was shocked at the anger she saw.
“I have a better question,” he shot back. “What was he doing?”
She was thoroughly perplexed and growing annoyed. “One of my stays broke and he was fixing it. What on earth do you think he was doing?”
Christopher stopped in mid-rage, suddenly realizing with horror what an ass he had just made of himself. He looked at Jeffrey as if to confirm Dustin’s answer, and the big man simply stared back at him. Then, Jeffrey’s hand came up and he opened his palm, inside was a steel hook.
“It came off,” he said, spitting out a tooth.
Christopher let go of him. “Christ,” he muttered, turning away from the man. He had never felt so completely foolish in his entire life.
Dustin, still confused and concerned, rushed to Jeffrey’s side. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” Jeffrey spit out some more blood, eyeing Christopher.
Dustin whirled on her husband. “Why did you hit him?”
Christopher was standing by David, his hand on his forehead. The hand fell to his side as he faced his wife. “The reason no longer exists. Are you ready to go to town?”
She was angry now. “Then if the reason no longer exists, you will apologize to Jeffrey. ’Twas inexcusable.”
Christopher met Jeffrey’s eye. “My mistake.”
Jeffrey lifted an acknowledging eyebrow but Dustin was livid.
“ ’Tis no apology you gave him,” she accused.
Christopher gazed down at her evenly. Christ, she looked gorgeous in that dress. “Aye, it is. Now, are you ready to leave? I have time to take you myself.”
Her cheeks were flushed with fury. “I shall not go with you,” she said. “Jeffrey will take me.”
Christopher gave her a slow, reptilian blink, glancing at the German. “I think not,” he said quietly. “Come along, my lady.”
“No,” she exclaimed, moving away from him. “I will not go with a man who strikes for no reason and then refuses to apologize. Stay away from me.”
Christopher didn’t want to create a scene in the middle of the bailey, but if he forced himself on her, then a scene he would have. She was angry and had every right to be. He took a deep, calming breath and crooked his finger at her.
“Then a word, please,” he said politely.
She balked for a moment or so, crossing her arms across her chest defiantly until she felt Jeffrey give her a little shove. Momentarily uncertain as to why Jeffrey should support the man who just clobbered him, she found herself stepping in Christopher’s direction.
He pulled her aside privately, looking down at her stormy face.
He sighed. “In the first place, my lady, you will never again use that tone with me,” he said in a low voice.
“Secondly, you would not understand why I struck Jeffrey, but suffice it to say that he understands and we will hear no more of it, especially from you.” When she opened her mouth, he put up a warning finger.
“And, lastly, I will indeed escort you into the village.”
She was so furious that she was grinding her teeth. “Then I am not going into town. I am staying here,” she seethed.
“Aye, you are going into town if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you,” he said with growing irritation.
Her eyes flashed and she stepped back from him, gathering her skirts. “If you touch me, you shall regret it.” With that, she spun on her heel and raced into the castle as fast as her legs would take her.
Christopher charged after her, leaving David and Jeffrey standing in his wake. David shifted on his big legs casually, crossing his arms.
“Is she always like this?” he asked.
Jeffrey nodded. “Always. Should we follow?”
“Why? He won’t lay a hand on her,” David looked at him.
Jeffrey shook his head. “Not to protect her. To protect him.”
David smiled. Then, he laughed. “Come on, frank. Let’s go take care of that mouth.”
Jeffrey let David lead him away, not at all annoyed by the fact that he was now missing a tooth. It had been worth it to confirm what he had speculated, that Christopher was indeed concerned for his new wife, as much as he tried to pretend otherwise.
Dustin just beat Christopher into her rooms. She had heard his footfalls close behind her and she was furious and frightened at the same time.
But when she entered her rooms and he was right on her heel, she found she was terrified and she ran to the other end of the room, grabbing the first thing she could find.
Whirling around, she threw a pretty glass goblet at the doorway just as Christopher entered.
He ducked swiftly and the glass shattered on the doorjamb above him.
“Get out!” Dustin screamed, hurling another glass.
The second one shattered on the wall a foot to the left of him and he scowled. “Stop that.”
“Go!” she yelled angrily, throwing another goblet and watching it break on the wall above the door.
“Dustin, stop that at once,” he said sternly, coming into the room.
She picked up her pewter decanter, half-full of wine, and threw it at him. He turned slightly, catching it in the armor and it exploded, coating him and his mail with wine. He frowned verily.
“Dustin, cease this instant before you do any damage,” he ordered.
She was out of ammunition and, with a shriek, ran to the table beside her bed and picked up her hairbrush. The heavy wooden brush went sailing through the air and he deftly dodged it, glaring at her.
“You are going to be sorry,” he warned her.