Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Christopher spurred his horse in her direction and the unruly animal came to an unsteady halt several feet away from her, snorting and pawing the earth, and Christopher cuffed the animal across the neck.
The horse calmed enough for him to be able to dismount without being thrown.
Once down, he rushed to his wife’s side underneath the tree.
“Dustin,” he said harshly. “What in the hell are you doing out here?”
She opened her mouth but in that instant her excitement turned to hurt at his tone.
“I…I….,” she sputtered.
He gave her an impatient glare. “Go back with the sergeant, sweet.”
“Nay,” she said firmly. “Christopher, I….can we talk somewhere?”
He looked at her with disbelief. “Dustin, I cannot. I have got two hundred new recruits to drill this morn. Now go back to the apartments and we shall talk this afternoon.”
She wasn’t returning without telling him the news, but he was being difficult to convince. However, she had learned something about Christopher in the months she’d been married to him; he hated to see her cry. Big, fat tears immediately welled in her eyes and his expression instantly changed.
“Do not do that,” he ordered quietly. “I shall be back for the nooning meal and we can talk then.”
She blinked and the tears spilled down her cheeks, turning her back to him. Behind her, she heard him sigh.
“What is so important, Dustin?”
She shook her head, letting out a sob for effect. He reached out with his huge hands and turned her around to face him.
“What is so important that you are out here in this hellish weather?” he asked, more gently.
She shook her head again and sniffed. “Not here,” she said. “I do not want to talk about it out in the rain.”
His jaw ticked impatiently and he glanced over his shoulder to see that Marcus had the recruits well in hand for the moment.
“Very well,” he said in a low voice. “Come with me.”
He pulled her to him and led her to a fairly deserted bank of stables. He took her into the very last stall, smelling strongly of fresh straw and rain. He shook his head to rid the water from his hair as Dustin lowered the hood of her cape. He put his hands on his hips expectantly.
“Well?” he demanded softly.
The moment was upon her and she found she was actually frightened to tell him. She had been so eager that she hadn’t even thought of how she was going to deliver the news. She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat a couple of times, a thousand words spinning about in her flighty brain.
Christopher sighed impatiently. “Come now, Dustin, I have no time for games. What is so important?”
She opened her mouth to speak but again lost her nerve. “Kiss me.”
He looked at her, disbelieving. “What?”
“Please?” she moved forward, her sweet face upturned.
He scowled but did as he was asked, a quick kiss turning into a long, lingering kiss of delicious promises. When she had finished with him, his loins were heating up and his whole body was languid.
Dustin licked her lips, running her finger over his lips and then kissed him again.
“Talk to me, wife,” his voice was a seductive growl. “What is so important?”
Her courage returning, Dustin disengaged herself from his arms and stood back, unfastening her cloak and removing it.
“Do I look any different to you?” she asked.
He was thoroughly puzzled. “You are as beautiful as you ever were. Why?”
“Do I look fat?” she persisted.
He looked at her ripe, supple body and shook his head. “No Dustin, why the questions? What are you driving at?”
“Do you know that none of my surcoats fit me anymore? They are all as snug as skins on a grape,” she said insistently.
He raised an eyebrow, his eyes raking her body once more. “I see no difference. If you are worried about it, then we shall have more surcoats made. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
“Nay,” she said quickly. “Yes. Oh, Christopher, it’s just that… oh!”
She stomped her foot with frustration and lowered her gaze, again searching for the correct words. He reached out after a moment and pulled her against him.
“If you are worried that you are putting on weight, do not,” he said softly. “You are a delightful, delicious morsel for my tongue, sweetheart.”
“I am putting on weight,” she agreed.
“I care not,” he replied, thinking what she wanted was reassurance that he still found her desirable. “You look better than you ever have. Your breasts are more than a handful for me and your beautiful legs are supple and…”
“Chris,” she put her hand to his lips to quiet him. “We are going to have a baby.”
His eyes widened and beneath her fingers, his mouth went agape. Her eyes met with his for an eternity of long seconds before he even trusted himself to speak.
“A baby?” he whispered. “Dustin, are you pregnant?”
She nodded, trying to gage his reaction. “Are you happy?”
He tried to laugh at the idiocy of the question but all that came out was a choked gasp. Complete, unexpected joy surged through his veins as his disbelieving mind tried to comprehend her words. “Happy? Christ in Heaven, Dustin. Happy isn’t a word I would choose to describe my feelings.”
She looked at him with uncertainty. “Tell me, then. Are you not happy?”
He responded by kissing her feverishly, every inch of her face and neck until she was laughing and gasping with delight.
She tried to speak, but every time she uttered a word his mouth was on her again and sucking at her with furious joy.
He stopped long enough to allow her to catch her breath, cradling her against him with the utmost reverence.
“Christ, sweetheart, I cannot describe in words how thrilled I am,” he whispered against her, then held her back to look her over urgently. “How do you feel? Are you all right?”
She smiled. “I am fine, just fat,” she said, winding her arms around his neck. “I love you, Chris. I hope to give you a fine, healthy son.”
He kissed her tenderly. “That would be the ultimate gift, sweet love. As long as you come through unscathed, tis all I will ask of God.”
Their lips met again, so sweetly and worshipful of each other, growing increasingly passionate by the moment. The storm outside was a full-blown climate upheaval, but inside the deserted stable, their love was filling the air like a warm breeze.
He lay her back on her cloak, throwing off pieces of armor and hearing them hit the straw in reckless disorder.
Not a word was spoken, but there was no need, his gentle touch and eager lips spoke volumes to her.
Between tender, urgent kisses and reverent caresses, she helped him off with his hauberk and underclothing.
He ran his hands over her nude body for the longest time, kissing her slightly rounded belly over and over, worshiping the miracle they created inside her. He still could not believe the good news.
She moaned softly at his touch, closing her eyes to savor every sensation he was bestowing upon her.
From her breasts to her toes, he was unstoppable, his huge body prowling over her like a graceful beast. When he finally did mount her, it was with more tenderness than she dreamed possible, his strokes even and measured and erotic.
He made love to her as he never had, his throat tight with emotion. The child she carried, his child, meant more to him than anything on earth and he was so, so grateful that Dustin loved him enough to bear him the gift.
When they did climax together, tears of joy found their way down her cheeks, clinging to Christopher for dear life. She never wanted to let him go, just simply remain as they were forever, listening to the storm outside yet warm and happy with their contentment.
He dressed her carefully, managing to touch her stomach a dozen times in the process. He wouldn’t allow her to help him with his armor, only his hauberk because it was bulky and awkward. When he was fully dressed, he pulled her to him once again and kissed the life from her.
“Now I want you to go back to the apartments and rest,” he said softly.
“But there’s to be a grand luncheon in the great dining hall and Deborah and I promised to attend,” she protested. “There will be entertainers and….”
“Nay,” he said firmly. “You will return to our apartments and relax. I do not want you exerting yourself in the least.”
She frowned at him. “Chris, I have been pregnant for almost two months and have yet to injure or exert myself in that time. Be reasonable about this, I won’t break.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Do not argue with me.”
“I am not,” she insisted. “But I have seven more months to go and refuse to be treated like an invalid until June. Can I please go to the luncheon if I promise to leave the moment it is finished?”
He eyed her and she was hopeful with his indecisive pause.
“If you promise to leave the very moment you have finished eating, then I will allow it.” He pointed a massive gauntleted finger at her when she smiled triumphantly.
“But if you so much as vary in your plans but a moment, I shall chain you to the bed myself until my son is born.”
She stood on tip-toe and kissed him on the tip of his nose. “I promise, I promise.”
He smiled and swatted her on the bottom. “Delay me no further, wife.”
He took her out of the stable, shielding her with his huge body from the driving rain and to the waiting escort of his men.
He suddenly found it difficult to let her go with them, wanting more than ever to protect her himself and reluctant to leave the duty to anyone else.
But he forced himself to let her go, waving a hand at her in response to her huge smile as they led her away.
Behind him, Marcus rode up and kicked mud all over his legs. “Where in the hell did you go?”
He looked up at his vassal, rain pelting his face, and smiled the broadest smile Marcus could ever remember seeing.