Chapter Seventeen
Sir George had entwined himself in Dustin’s hair and refused to come out. He sat on the collar of her cloak, completely covered by her thick mane and screamed every time she tried to remove him.
Even now, back in their apartments, she could not coax him forward and told her irritated husband that George would come out when he was ready.
Resigning his wife to her fate, which would probably include a case of monkey warts, Christopher moved beyond the situation and ordered the nooning meal, albeit an hour late.
He sent a soldier to find his knights, including Marcus, and request their presence at the meal.
He then proceeded to remove his armor, eyeing his wife as she tried to talk to the monkey in the polished bronze mirror.
“Sweetheart, I need your help,” he told her, holding out his arms so she could help him remove his hauberk.
Dustin pulled off the heavy mail and let it fall to the floor. His quilted shirt underneath was wet with perspiration and his hair was slicked with moisture.
“Why don’t you change into clean clothing?” she suggested helpfully.
“Why?” he asked, moving to pour himself a goblet of wine. “The clothes would simply become soiled just as these are since I am going to fight all afternoon.”
“But you smell,” she pointed out bluntly. “And I, for one, find it unappetizing.”
He raised a blond eyebrow. “You who speaks with a louse-ridden monkey in your hair? If we have to cut all your hair off because of that miniature creature, Dustin, I swear I will kill it.”
She shushed him loudly. “He will never come out if you say things like that.”
There was a knock at the door and he moved past her. “It had better be out by tonight or I shall rip it free myself.”
“Why?” she teased boldly. “Can’t you make love to me with a monkey screaming in your ear? I scream in your ear.”
He shot her a reproving look and jerked the door open for David, Edward and Leeton.
They scarcely had time to enter the room when Dustin was excitedly showing them her latest pet, while Christopher shook his head with resignation.
She was more excited about the monkey than she was about the huge diamond ring he had bought her, but he didn’t particularly care.
It was a tribute to his wife’s lack of materialistic value and he was pleased all the same.
“Show them what I bought you, Dustin, if you can spare the time,” he remarked dryly.
She smiled at him and held up her left hand, shoving the ring right in David’s face. All three knights grunted with approval.
“A fine ring,” David said. “Jesus, had she been any closer that thing would have knocked my eye out.”
“Where on earth did you find a monkey, Chris?” Leeton asked, trying to urge the animal out of its hovel.
“My wife found it,” he replied disinterestedly. “David, did you have the destriers reshod as I asked?”
“This morning,” his brother replied, picking through Dustin’s hair to get a better look at the monkey.
Christopher eyed the men as they gingerly lifted his wife’s hair in search of the great hairy beast within.
“I do not appreciate you manhandling my wife,” he said with disapproval.
“Chris, if you call this manhandling, then I pity the poor fool who actually ever lays a hand on her,” Edward quipped.
“He is dead, in fact,” Christopher said, pouring himself more wine. “Where do you think she got the monkey?”
The knights looked to Dustin in mild surprise and she met their gaze, although her expression was downcast.
“He was a street peddler and the monkey was on a leash, doing tricks,” she said. “He started to beat the monkey and I could not simply stand by and let him, so I… well, I tried to stop him and he was very rude. In fact, he was so rude that I hit him and we fought.”
Edward nodded in understanding. “And your husband stepped in and killed him.”
“Aye,” Dustin said, lowering her gaze, but came back passionately. “I am truly sorry the man is dead, but he was cruel and evil and I had to stop him.”
Christopher could see that she was becoming agitated. “We know, sweetheart, you were protecting God’s creature,” he pacified her. Then he glanced at the waterclock on the mantle. “Where in the hell is our meal?”
David was trying to stick his hand underneath Dustin’s hair to remove the monkey when there was another rap on the door. Edward opened it and Marcus came into the room, holding the three puppies against his chest with his good arm.
“How long have you been back?” he demanded of Dustin. “Do you know that these mongrels have been eating constantly? And pissing all over my floor. I am not a….Jesus, what in the hell is that on your neck?”
“A monkey,” David said, moving closer to the animal as Leeton pulled her hair back.
“I can see that.” Marcus put the dogs down. “What is it doing there?”
“Nesting,” Christopher said. “How’s your hand?”
“It throbs, but the physician gave me a colwart and boiled willow concoction to ease the pain,” Marcus replied.
The puppies began to whimper and yelp, running about the room and the monkey suddenly came alive.
It bit David and scratched Dustin’s neck as it literally flew onto a chair and then scrambled to the top of a large wardrobe.
The puppies continued to yelp and wriggle all over the floor.
Every time a puppy would yap, the monkey would scream, as if it were being stabbed.
Dustin stood atop a chair as she tried to coax it down.
Christopher, composed and regal as always, shook his head with disbelief at the chaotic scene in his elegant antechamber.
Marcus could not hide his smile and broke into choked giggles every time Edward looked at him.
David, meanwhile, was nursing a substantial monkey bite on his finger and wondering aloud if he was going to die from it.
As havoc ensued in the room, the two maids bustled into the chamber with several kitchen servants in tow, setting out the nooning meal on the large oak table by the hearth.
Dustin yelled at the servants to close the door so the dogs wouldn’t escape while Christopher and his knights moved for the table, preparing to feast. Dud and Trent, the last two knights to join the disorder, almost had the door slammed in their faces by a servant eager to do Lady de Lohr’s bidding.
Dustin could see that the monkey was frightened and decided to leave it be.
Snatching the puppies, she handed them over to the maids and asked that the women feed them and take them outside so they wouldn’t pee all over the polished floor.
She would retain a couple of the kitchen servants to serve the meal and, with an exhausted sigh she sat heavily at her husband’s left hand.
Christopher was already well into his meal of roast mutton, baked apples and stewed vegetables.
The others, too, had dug in with gusto and Dustin followed suit.
She ate and listened to the men, relieved to the core that Marcus and her husband were acting as if nothing was amiss, as if the heavy bandages on Marcus’ arm were nonexistent.
She wondered if it were all an act, keeping up a front for the sake of Richard and his vassals, but she didn’t think so.
Mayhap they would forgive and forget sooner than she hoped. It was almost too good to ask for.
She was so busy eating and listening to her husband that she neglected to see the monkey scoot off the cabinet.
The very next thing she realized, George was sitting on the end of the table by Leeton and Dud.
He nearly had heart failure when he looked up and saw the little creature pick an apple off his trencher.
Dustin shushed the knights sternly when they started to laugh and throw food at the monkey.
Like small boys, they obeyed the female command.
The monkey ended up sitting on the edge of Dud’s trencher and ate everything but the meat.
When the meal was over, Christopher got his men moving for they all had bouts to fight, getting in the last bit of practice before the tournament tomorrow.
Dustin left the monkey in the apartments but clutched the puppies as she followed the men down to the arena and seated herself comfortably in the lists, much more excited to watch than she had been earlier.
As the dogs fumbled about and explored, she was riveted on the field before her.
She was surprised to see Marcus swing a sword against Trent, obviously instructing the young man.
He clutched the blade in his left hand, maneuvering it as expertly as he did with his right.
She knew Marcus to be skilled, and she should have realized that his talents were well-rounded.
He had joked about learning to fight with his left hand.
What she didn’t understand was that he already knew how to fight with it.
But as she watched him, a new set of fears clutched at her; if he were still able to fight, would he then be fighting her husband on the morrow? If not, did the prince know Marcus was still functional and would he, in fact, force Marcus to fight, broken hand and all?
She chewed her lip with worry, noticing that the field was quickly filling with people.
Knights on horseback with huge jousting poles, squires, various servants and grooms were all about the field like busy insects.
Christopher and his men were over to her far left under a group of trees and she could see that the squires were helping them with their armor and weapons.
Christopher’s squire was a tall, well-built blond-haired boy that she had seen but three or four times.
He had never spoken a word to her and she had been too busy with her own problems to notice him, but she watched him now and how he deftly handled her husband’s possessions, and she made a mental note to at least discover the boy’s name.