Chapter Twenty-Three
Sir Dennis won the melee after nearly killing David. John, pleased with his new champion, granted the man a title and lands to accompany in Dorset, prime lands to be sure. With yet another new baron at Windsor, Christopher was dealt another worry.
The justices met after the tournament and decided that until they had a body or confirmation of Richard’s death, the man was still England’s king and they would continue administering the country in his absence.
Christopher, in full agreement with their conclusion, decided to delay his return to Lioncross until there were any changes regarding Richard’s well-being.
It did not, however, sway his mind to send Dustin northward.
He had yet to speak with Marcus about it, but knew the man would do as was asked of him.
The trouble was, he could not seem to bear to part with her.
He was in bed an entire week with his ribs and shoulder injury.
She did everything for him, and he was becoming quite dependent on her.
She was the first thing he saw in the morning and the very last thing he saw at night.
His attachment to his wife was growing by the minute, as was hers to him.
Before the week was out, they were absolutely inseparable.
Deborah did indeed stay on with Dustin as expected.
Christopher and David were pleased to have their little sister under their wing, and Dustin was grateful for the company.
Deborah and David occupied smaller apartments next to Christopher and Dustin, and the two women got along as if they had known each other all their lives.
Dustin felt the loss of Rebecca less and less each day and was better able to cope with life at Windsor with Deborah’s courtly manner.
Christopher also had another motive for keeping his sister with him; John and Ralph knew exactly who she was and he felt better able to protect her if she were under his roof.
Weeks passed and Christopher healed rapidly, as did Marcus.
Toward the end of November when the wind was freezing and ice covered the ground, Christopher was completely healed and Marcus was able to flex his fingers.
The arm had atrophied a bit, but he set to sword practice to strengthen it, as much as he was able to hold anything in his stiff hand.
John and Ralph had kept a remarkably low profile.
Even with Sir Dennis and his henchmen as the prince’s constant companions, there were no confrontations, threats, or attempts on Christopher’s life.
In fact, it was almost too good to hope for and Christopher was increasingly concerned that John was merely attempting to lure him into a false sense of security.
There was, however, one point of great distress in the midst of the calm.
John’s mercenary army were growing in strength and size and Christopher, as well as the justices, suspected that Philip Augustus was channeling funds into England somehow to pay for them.
There was also the unmistakable fact that a great majority of the mercenaries were Frenchmen.
Dustin matured a great deal in those few weeks.
The simple young woman with simple tastes was growing into the flower of Windsor.
Everyone knew who she was and she was the target of most of the social events at the castle.
If someone were having a gay party, then it was a must that Lady Dustin de Lohr attend.
If she didn’t, the party was an immediate failure.
At first the attention was due to the fact that she was the Defender’s wife, but as people gradually got to know her, she began to build her own formidable reputation.
The fact remained, however, that Dustin was not a frivolous, party-minded individual and she found most parties extremely boring.
Her clothing had gotten more trendy, thanks to Deborah, but she still wore no jewelry other than the cross Christopher gave her and her wedding rings.
And she never, ever went anywhere without her husband.
It became a standing joke around Windsor that there was an invisible umbilical cord that linked the two together.
Not only that, but for as much as Marcus and David and the others were with her, more lewd jokes suggested that each man took his turn with her on different nights.
Baron de Lohr’s group was a tightknit, impenetrable clique.
’Twas the very end of November when Dustin awoke one morning after Christopher had left and proceeded to take a long, hot bath.
She bathed almost every morning in the winter to get her blood warmed and flowing.
As her maids fussed and fretted, she hopped from the tub and into a thick linen towel, drying off in the chill of the room.
“Nay, not that surcoat,” she told the maids. “ ’Tis too tight. I would wear the blue woolen surcoat this morn.”
Obediently, the blue surcoat was brought and one of the maids had a bit of a time trying to fasten the stays on the back.
Dustin would suck her breath in and then exhale loudly, stay by stay, until they were all secure.
Even then, the surcoat was far too tight.
She gazed back at herself in the mirror.
“Look how tight this surcoat is,” she demanded with disgust. “I am getting as fat as a pig.”
The maids passed glances at each other as Dustin tugged and pulled at the surcoat.
“And look at my breasts. They’re growing as large as melons,” she said, pushing at her breasts and then flinching when they hurt. “I have got to stop eating so much.”
“My lady, if I may be so forward,” the plumper of the two older woman spoke. “Did your mother not speak to you of the ways of men and women?”
Dustin looked at the woman as if she were daft. “Of course, Lottie. Even so, I am a woman married and surely would have figured it out by now.”
“Nay, my lady, ’tis not what I meant,” the older woman said patiently. “Did your mother ever speak to you of breeding?”
“Well, of course,” Dustin said impatiently. “She told me that a man and a woman consummate their marriage and eventually….” The huge gray eyes widened to the point of bulging from her skull and she was actually shocked speechless. “A child? I am to bear a child?”
The maids giggled. “From the looks of it, one the size of the baron,” Lottie said. “When did you last have your menses?”
Dustin was shaking with excitement and surprise, and it was difficult for her to hold a thought, any thought, but try she did.
“Let me see,” she struggled to think. “Lord, it’s been so long and I didn’t even realize it. I suppose the end of September.”
The maids nodded at each other, satisfied. “Then you are nearly two months along with this child, and it should be due in early summer.” “June,” the other maid said helpfully.
Dustin put a hand to her mouth, half covering the silly grin on her face. She could scarcely believe it and was absolutely thrilled. “Truly?” she breathed timidly. “A son for Christopher?”
The maids giggled again and Dustin twirled about with delight, wanting to laugh and cry and jump for joy all at the same time. She grabbed George and did a happy little dance, and then scooped up Alexander and bounced him around while Harold barked loudly at her feet.
“I must go find my husband immediately.” She put George down on the bed and tugged at her surcoat, and then laughed at herself for trying to make it fit. “I suppose I shall have to get all of my dresses altered.”
She dashed out into the antechamber, warmed by a huge fire roaring in the hearth. Outside, the sky was nearly black with storm clouds even though it was almost mid-morning.
The maids scurried after her, demanding that she wear her warmest cloak.
She was so scatterbrained that she put the cloak on backwards before realizing her error and turning it around correctly.
Laughing at herself again as Lottie pulled it tight, she opened the front door to the apartments and met with the usual half-dozen guards.
“Where is my husband?” she demanded swiftly.
The sergeant on duty saluted her smartly. “At the training grounds, my lady, drilling the troops.”
“Will you take me there?” she asked.
“My pleasure, my lady,” the sergeant said, commandeering two other men to act as additional escort.
Dustin was so excited she practically ran. The sergeant led her down to the first level of the castle and out into the freezing weather. It was misting already, promising the massive storm that was to come, but Dustin didn’t care. All that mattered was that she tell Christopher about his son.
By the time they reached the training grounds, icy rain was pelting them. The cloak Dustin wore was very heavy and lined with fox, rendering it extremely warm, and she wasn’t feeling the elements in the least. The sergeant found a large tree for her to stand under while he sent word to the baron.
The training ground was a huge, flat field on which the troops were practiced and drilled.
At this moment, there were no less than eight hundred men milling about the grounds in various maneuvers.
She could see several knights on horseback working with the men, but she had yet to see her husband.
Then, before her, an entire column of men marched by and she immediately saw that the knights in command were none other than her husband and Marcus.
Both men were riding in armor, but helmetless.
The rain was beating down on them, soaking their heads, and Dustin’s eyes riveted to her husband as he passed by her on his new destrier.
He was riding the dancing animal effortlessly and bellowing orders to the men-at-arms. His cropped blond hair was soaked and he kept shaking his head like a dog to keep the rain out of his eyes.
She watched him move on down the field until the sergeant who had escorted her dashed out to his side.
After a couple of exchanged words, she saw the sergeant point directly at her.