Chapter Thirty-Three #4
She sniffled loudly, wiping at the tears on her neck and eyeing him with a mixture of anger and doubt. “What do you mean ‘second to me’?”
His face was soft and thoughtful as he pushed a stray bit of hair from her face.
“Just what I said,” he murmured. “You are the greatest priority in my life, Dustin. What I do now, I do because it is my duty and because I am sworn to it. But my heart, my love, is with you. Were that I had a choice in all of this, I would retire to Lioncross with you and raise a huge family. No more war, no more king, no more bastard prince.”
She looked at him, astonishment filling her. “But…but you are the Defender. You are Richard’s chosen and you have always made it clear that Richard was the most important thing in your life.”
“I know, and I am sorry,” he said softly.
“At one time, that was true. But no longer. You, Lady de Lohr, are the most important thing in my life and I love you with every last fiber of my being. I have known that for some time now, but I have never been fully able to admit it. It is still difficult to believe.”
Miraculously, her tears vanished and were replaced by the most radiant of smiles. “But you already told me you loved me. I was satisfied with that.”
He grinned lazily, “I thought I was, too. But I was wrong. You consume me, lady, and I can think of nothing but you. This separation that we face is paining me more than you can possibly know.”
“I know your pain too well,” she said softly. “It eats at me like a cancer. With every step you take, with every mile of distance between us, I feel as if my life is slipping further and further away. I am so scared, Chris, I cannot think straight sometimes. ’Tis all happening so fast.”
He continued to stroke her hair, devour her face. Then, he smiled. “Do you know that for two people who didn’t want to be married, we are acting like a couple of sotted fools. Do you suppose marriage agrees with us?”
She smiled broadly. “It does. My mother would be most pleased, I think. She did so want us to like each other.”
“Lady Mary would be in her heaven to see that we have fallen in love with one another,” he agreed, pulling her down to the soft curve of his shoulder. “And your father, too. On his deathbed, he asked that I wed you and give you children; that was all. He said I didn’t even have to like you.”
She felt him chuckle and she made a wry face. “Marry me and give me children, eh? I am sure my father was in fits because I was nineteen and not yet wed; not even betrothed.” She ran her hand over his faintly hairy chest. “But why you, Chris? Of all the men my father could have chosen, why you?”
He had wondered that, too, of course. “I do not know, sweet,” he said with a sigh. “But we really must show our thanks to your father and his brilliance. Mayhap we will name our firstborn son after him.”
“Arthur? Pah!” Dustin’s head came up and she made a face at him. “I do not like that name. Our son will have a strong name, as I have told you before. His name will be Curtis.”
“Curtis?” he pretended to greatly disapprove of the name when, in truth, he had agreed on it once before, months back. “I do not know. Why cannot we name him after me? Actually, I have always liked the name Percival.”
“Percival?” she said in outrage. “No child of mine will bear the name Percy. Our son will be named Curtis, or I swear I shall bear you only daughters.”
He laughed. “Good Christ, you would, wouldn’t you? I’d have a household full of stubborn, willful little wenches just like their mother and I would surely go mad.”
She grinned at him. “Ten of them, just like me. Are you properly frightened now? Will you agree to the name Curtis?”
He put his hand over his face in defeat. “Anything, anything if you will spare me that living hell.”
She continued to grin at him as he looked at her from underneath his hand. Then he dragged it the length of his face and pulled her down to him once again.
“I love you, Dustin,” he said softly. Against him, he felt her snicker. “Why do you laugh?”
“Because that is the first time you have ever told me without me telling you first,” she said. “Lord, Chris, you are turning into a sappy fool with enough honeyed words to fill a cesspool.”
“And you hate honeyed words, I know,” he agreed with an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “Please do not slug me.”
“I won’t, I promise,” she said, snuggling against him. “Only from you will I hear those words.”
He held her for the longest time, staring up at the dark ceiling, wondering what the future would hold for them both.
He knew they needed to get up and moving, but he simply could not bring himself to break the spell.
When Dustin fell asleep she began snoring softly, he listened to her every breath as if it would sustain him.
The depression he was experiencing was overwhelming.
Eventually he forced himself to rise, donning his clothes. Darren had his armor and would soon be pounding on the door of the antechamber, demanding to dress his liege. He glanced at Dustin, reluctant to wake her, but knowing it was necessary. With a final loving gaze, he roused his sleeping wife.