Chapter Six #5
There was tension in the air as the man in mail and black dismounted his destrier and approached Christopher slowly, removing his gauntlets as he walked. His face was dark, his hair dirty and long. He was ugly and sinister-looking as he smiled thinly at Christopher.
“This is your gift from Richard?” he said, glancing about the keep. “Impressive. A most fitting gift for our king’s Defender of the Realm.”
Christopher’s face was unreadable. “What do you want, Fitz Walter?”
“Not much for greetings, are you?” the man responded.
“The heat of the Holy Land must have evaporated your manners.” When Christopher didn’t answer, he continued on.
“I come from our glorious prince, de Lohr. He is requesting your presence in London. You came and left so quickly we scarce had a chance to enjoy your illustrious person.”
“Surely John has enough fools to keep him entertained,” he said coolly. “What does he want of me?”
“Your beautiful face and your commanding presence, who can say?” Fitz Walter gestured with his hands. “I have been sent to retrieve you personally.”
Christopher crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I am busy. Tell John I will join him when time allows.”
The tolerant look faded from Fitz Walter’s face. “Your company is not a request, de Lohr, it is a command by order of our magnificent prince. He would not be happy to learn that you disobeyed his wishes.”
Christopher gazed back at Ralph Fitz Walter, confidante and right-hand to Prince John. The man’s soul ran as black as his hair.
“I take my orders directly from King Richard, not the prince,” he said evenly.
“As Defender of the Realm, I am answerable to Richard alone. John has no power over me, of which I am sure he is immensely displeased. I am the one man in this country who does not have to obey him, and the crown’s troops in England are mine to command.
You see, Ralph, I was there when Richard drafted the missive to his brother that I delivered to him from the Holy Land.
I know exactly what it says and exactly what my sworn duties are.
” He took a step toward Fitz Walter and lowered his voice.
“I am the strong-arm of Richard now that I am returned and I am sure that Prince John is furious at that fact. But it is of no concern to me. He cannot order me about as he does the rest of you idiots.”
Ralph’s face was dark and angry. “My orders come from the prince himself, de Lohr,” he growled, then glanced at the troops waiting outside the gate. “I shall drag you back if necessary.”
Beside Christopher, David flinched and his brother put out a calming hand. Fitz Walter looked at David, his lips peeling back in a sneer.
“Ah, the little Lion Cub,” he said mockingly. “You would be brave and defend your big brother, wouldn’t you?”
Christopher took another step toward Ralph, at least a head taller than the dark man. “I was, in fact, planning on returning to London,” he said in a low voice. “But I will not be seen with you. I want you out of my keep, and out of my sight, or I will gut you.”
Ralph gave him a weak smile. “For what?” His eyes suddenly moved beyond Christopher as if something had caught his attention, and a gleam came to his eye. “Oh, my,” he breathed seductively. “Is that Arthur Barringdon’s daughter?”
Christopher didn’t know she was standing at the keep entry and he swung around rapidly to see that his wife was indeed standing at the top of the steps. David, Leeton and Edward saw his nostrils flare and his jaw tick as he turned back to Fitz Walter.
“Get out of here, Ralph,” he growled. “I will not tell you again.”
Ralph’s eyes lit up with amusement, however dangerous.
“Oh, de Lohr, you must bring her with you. John will be most pleased to see such a prize.” He stepped sideways, as to better leer at Dustin.
“Fine, indeed. A tasty piece of flesh. Had I known about her, I would have taken her for myself while you were still in Jerusalem.”
Christopher’s jaw was ticking so furiously that he was about to break teeth. Angry would not have been an apt word to describe his emotions at the moment.
“That is my wife, Lady Dustin de Lohr, and you will never again use those terms to describe her,” he said in a controlled tone. “Now, remount your steed and get the hell out of my keep.”
“But I only just arrived,” Ralph pressed. “Surely you will invite me in to your new keep to meet your wife?”
Christopher stared at him but he wasn’t going to tell the man to leave again. His next move would be to enforce his command at knife point. David, however, stepped forward.
“You have been told to leave,” he rumbled. “Get out before I embarrass you in front of your men.”
Undaunted, yet smart enough to realize that Christopher was sensitive where his wife was concerned, Ralph gave them all a slight bow and meandered back to his horse.
Yet he would keep that bit of information tucked into his mind, for he was sure John would be interested in it.
There was more than one way to control a seemingly uncontrollable man.
Christopher watched Ralph mount his big warhorse and rein the animal about roughly.
“I give you one week, baron,” he said loudly, more for the benefit of his men so they would not know that the baron had gotten the better of him. “One week to see you in London or I come back for you.”
Christopher turned away, ordering the gates closed.
Dustin, seeing that he was heading straight for her, bolted back inside the castle and raced madly for her rooms, desperately afraid he was going to spank her again.
It was foolish to run from him, she knew, for he would only catch up to her, but she ran anyway. She was terrified.
She waited in her rooms for him to come. And waited. She sat tensely on her bed for nearly an hour before she heard a soft knock on her door. Jumpy as a cat, she shot up off the bed and bade whoever it was to enter.
Christopher’s blond head appeared and he actually smiled at her. Dustin’s eyes widened, off-balance and bewildered that he was smiling. He had a devastating smile when he wanted to, enough to make her knees go weak.
“I have a few moments to spare, my lady, and thought you might enjoy a trip into town,” he said.
“For what?” she blurted, still waiting for him to come charging across the room and put her over his knees again.
“To take the material to Mistress Rebecca, of course,” he stepped into the room. “My wife must be well-clothed at court.”
She looked at him for a few long moments as his words sunk in. Then, her gray eyes widened. “I am going to court?”
“Aye,” he nodded. “Actually, we are going to court. It seems that Prince John would have me there.”
“And you are taking me with you?” she could scarcely believe what she was hearing.
“Of course,” he said. “I would not leave you here.”
She was speechless. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine that she would go to London.
Her life was simple and uncomplicated, and she never entertained dreams of rich courtly life.
But now, with the impending prospect as the result of her marriage to a powerful baron, she found she was verily excited.
“Truly?” she grinned, her big eyes on him to see if he were teasing her.
He nodded, returning her smile. It was beautiful, bright and infectious. She clapped her hands together gleefully. “I have never been to London,” she exclaimed. “What is it like?”
He feigned a thoughtful expression. “Full of greed, deceit, lust, and gluttony. It is a delightful place.”
She laughed at him, her fear from moments earlier forgotten. Now, she was thrilled with the turn her future had taken.
“London,” she said, turning away from him happily. Suddenly, her eyes fell on Caesar, sleeping lazily in the window bench, and she sobered. “But what of Caesar? Can he come, too?”
Christopher stepped up behind her, eyeing the cat. “That may not be wise, Dustin,” he said honestly. “It will be a difficult journey for him, and he may run off. Cats like to stay where they are familiar.”
She went over and petted the cat. “But I cannot leave him,” she said mournfully, her mood increasingly sad. “Who will take care of him? And what of my rabbits?”
“Rabbits? What rabbits?” he asked.
“I have several pet rabbits I keep by the kitchens,” she insisted. “What will happen to them?”
Christopher looked thoughtful, catching himself before he suggested that they could eat them. Even in jest, the recommendation would not sit well with her.
“The cat can take care of himself, I am sure.” Christopher, not wanting to spoil the mood, took her hand away from the animal and enclosed it in his big, warm palm. “As for the rabbits, surely there is a child or servant who can tend them. Come along, now. Let us take the fabrics to your friend.”
She let him hold her hand. She didn’t know why she was letting him.
Any other man who had ever tried to hold her hand had come away with a black eye.
But she allowed him to lead her over to the other side of her bed where bundles of material were stacked.
He let go of her hand and picked all the packages up himself.
As she watched him, she was struck again with how handsome he truly was.
When she had been standing out on the landing, listening to him talk with the prince’s man, he had been so controlled and powerful that her heart had swelled strangely.
That strange, warm giddy feeling she was coming to associate with him.
Knowing that he was her husband filled her with a sense of pride she had never known before.
Even if he had spanked her, she found she wasn’t angry with him anymore.
If she were to admit it, she deserved it.
“Who was that man in the bailey?” she asked as she went to the door.
Christopher followed, the bundles in his arms. “His name is Sir Ralph Fitz Walter. He is Prince John’s marshal.
He said it with some disgust, enough to cause her to look at him. “You do not like him,” she observed.