Chapter Twenty-Four
Word spread throughout Windsor that the Defender’s wife was expecting.
Dustin was the recipient of thousands of items for the baby, all of them designed for a boy, and she prayed to God every night that the child would be male.
She knew Christopher would be tremendously disappointed if she bore a daughter.
Deborah was mayhap even more ecstatic over the baby than she was, if such a thing were possible. She sewed endlessly, making mounds of blankets and little suits and booties until Dustin’s wardrobe was fair to overflowing with the stuff.
Dustin’s twentieth birthday came and went with very little fanfare, as she requested.
Christopher held a small dinner party in her honor with only a very few select guests, mostly other knights.
She was embarrassed with all of the attention and gifts, but it was a lively party and she was sorry to see it end.
The greatest gift came later in their bedchamber, however, when Christopher presented her with a beautiful bejeweled hair clip and matching ear-bobs.
He stripped her of her surcoat, piled her considerable hair on top of her head and secured it with the clip, and put her ear-adornments on her and proceeded to make love to her deep into the night.
It was around this time that Dustin noticed how distant Marcus had become.
No longer was he the humorous, personable man, but rather detached from everything.
Deborah had a mad crush on the man and Dustin suspected that mayhap he was uncomfortable with the attention, and was concerned for him.
When she tried to talk to him, he would always excuse himself before they could delve into any manner of conversation.
Around Dustin, he was even worse. Whenever she would come around, he would leave before she could say a word to him. Dustin was concerned, of course, but the impending baby seemed to wipe all else from her mind. Whatever was troubling Marcus, she couldn’t be bothered by it.
It was a few days before Christmas when John decided to have a mask. It was a season of celebration and prayer, but the prince took it to the next level. He wanted a mad party. The mood struck John to have a mask, and a mask all of Windsor would have.
Dustin had been planning on the dance since she had learned of it days before.
Even though she didn’t dance, she still thought it would be great fun to attend, and she and Deborah had spent the entire afternoon selecting a surcoat.
A clear red brocade was her choice, complementing her skin beautifully.
Deborah’s finest surcoat was an elaborately embroidered black and white brocade which Dustin thought to be gaudy, but with her simple tastes, everything seemed gaudy.
She still could not believe a tiny life grew inside her. Days after the discovery, she kept running her hands over her stomach in disbelief, grinning when Deborah would touch her belly also. In fact, Deborah seemed to touch her belly more than Dustin did, so excited was she.
Christopher returned from the practice field in the late afternoon, grimy and sweaty and smelling like a horse. Deborah retreated, leaving Dustin alone with her filthy husband.
He tried to kiss his wife but she ducked away from him, wrinkling her nose. “Not until you bathe.”
He gave her a half grin, removing his gauntlets. “I must bathe simply to kiss you?”
“You must bathe if you plan to sleep beside me tonight,” she told him. “Moreover, I will not be seen with you tonight at the mask if you do not clean yourself up.”
“Mask?” he repeated. “You mean John’s deviant party?”
She eyed him. “Aye, that’s what I mean. Did you forget? You promised we could go.”
“But that was before you told me of your condition,” he said sternly. “You will not cavort about the dance floor and exert yourself.”
“I do not dance, you know that.” she said sharply. “But you promised that we could go, and I want to very much.”
“Go and do what? Sit?” he shot back. “Nay, Dustin, you will stay here and rest tonight. You should not be out and about.”
She frowned, putting her hands on her hips. “Do not start that again. I am fine, I told you. And I want to go to the party simply, well, to see the fine surcoats and talk with people. Our friends will be expecting us.”
“Our friends will understand when I explain to them why you were unable to attend,” he said as he removed his breastplate. “Your health is more important than a party.”
Her pretty mouth set in a stubborn line. “Are you breaking your promise to me? Is your word no better than water through my fingers?”
He raised an eyebrow reprovingly. “You know better than that. I promised you before I knew you were carrying my son and the circumstances have changed. I do not wish to discuss this anymore.”
“And we shan’t.” Dustin stomped an impudent foot. “I am going, and so is Deborah. The only way you can stop me is to tie me down, but know that I will fight you every step of the way if you try.”
She dashed into the bedchamber and he tossed his breastplate and hauberk to the ground with frustration. “I will tie you down if I have to,” he yelled to her. “Do not think that I won’t.”
“And risk injuring your precious son?” she exclaimed angrily, suddenly standing in the doorway. “You already care more for this child than you do for me. Will you forget about me completely when he is born?”
He turned to scowl at her, but she was already gone. He could hear her rummaging about in the bedchamber. With a sigh of annoyance, he shirked off the rest of his armor and tossed his boots over by the hearth.
Dustin was digging through a chest in the bedchamber.
“What are you doing?’ he asked, yanking his shirt off.
“Looking for my stockings,” she snapped.
He watched her for a moment, his jaw ticking.
He could feel himself relenting to her, as he knew he would.
He was coming to realize that her happiness meant everything to him, even in the smallest matters.
He knew she had been looking forward to the ball, but he had hoped to discourage the strenuous activity.
“Are you that determined to go that you would fight me tooth-and-nail for the privilege?” he asked.
“Aye, I am.” She stood up quickly, her hair a giant wild mass. “You promised.”
He had, and he was cornered. He scratched his itchy scalp and sighed in resignation. “Very well, then. If you are hell-bent on attending this orgy, I shall not stop you. But you will not overextend yourself in the least, do you understand?”
She pushed the hair from her face, her willful stance instantly softening. “I won’t, I promise. Will you bathe now so you do not go into the grand hall smelling like a stable?”
He nodded wearily, although it wasn’t a physical fatigue. This woman taxed his emotions like a syphon.
Yet he would not be alone. He ordered every one of his knights to attend, and they were not reluctant.
A mask meant a myriad of beautiful young women and they were most eager to see the goods.
Bathed, shaved and combed, they were dressed in their finest tunics and boots, sans armor.
It was the first time Dustin had seen them all without their armor, although they were well fortified with an assortment of small daggers.
Dustin looked absolutely radiant in the red brocade.
She had pulled the front of her hair back to reveal her face and the heavy golden cross hung most prominently against her breasts.
Christopher was as proud as a peacock, his formidable arrogance fed with his beautiful wife and her pregnancy.
The knights knew, and they all smiled knowingly as Dustin appeared on her husband’s arm.
Flushing a pretty shade of pink, she averted her gaze shyly.
David escorted Deborah to the grand hall.
The group arrived as the ball was in full swing, gay music and tables of food and thousands of candles filling the massive room.
Christopher immediately took his party over to a vacant table and sat his wife down promptly, but Deborah begged to dance and David obliged.
Dustin watched happily as Deborah took David through three dances, granting him a rest while she continued with Leeton.
Dustin found herself wishing she remembered how to dance, if only to be close to her husband.
As it was, he was sitting at the table, his eyes roving the room suspiciously and she snorted ironically to herself.
She could dress him up and make him appear as a gentleman, but she certainly could not conceal the soldier in him.
He actually appeared ill at ease, and she would learn later that it was because he felt positively naked without his armor.
John and Ralph and their group of shady characters arrived late, as usual, and the prince made a grand occasion out of his first dance.
He acted as a child in a sweet shop, pretending to be very selective with the women he would dance with.
His gaze fell on Dustin and he smiled, but one glimpse of Christopher’s face sent him on his way.
Christopher watched him like a hawk as he made a move for a lovely brunette on the opposite side of the room.
There was something remotely familiar about the woman as the music commenced and the dancing began, but he did not recognize her until John swung her by his table. Then, realization dawned.
“Isn’t that Amanda?” David leaned next to him, casually nursing a large goblet of wine.
“Aye,” Christopher said faintly, watching John swing the woman about.
“Jesus, I’d nearly forgotten about her,” David replied. “I didn’t even know she was here.”
Christopher didn’t answer, averting his gaze to another part of the room. David wandered back over to Marcus, who happened to have heard the exchange.
“Who’s that woman?” he asked David.
David took a healthy swig of wine. “The one dancing with John? Her name is Lady Amanda de Fortlage. Her father is the Earl of Chaumont.”