Chapter Sixty
Dustin had never experienced such complete, utter satisfaction as the army crested a small hill and Lioncross came into view. Her home, Christopher’s home, loomed in the distance and tears of relief sprang to her eyes. Surely heaven was not as gracious and welcoming.
Christopher viewed Lioncross with a great deal of relief and joy as well.
A smile creased his lips as his gaze devoured his lands, his keep.
He had returned once more and he swore silently that, barring any great catastrophe on Richard’s part, he would never leave Lioncross again. He was home to stay.
Dustin rode in front of Christopher, clutched against him as she had been the entire journey.
He was exceptionally weak, but he refused to let her ride alone.
It had been far too long since he had held her and he was determined to make up for lost time.
Dustin reveled in his touch, ignoring the jab of the armor and her own aching back.
Wherever Christopher was, she was content and comfortable.
Everyone had accompanied them back to Lioncross, save Richard.
With his brother on the run, he was obliged to follow.
Pleased beyond words that the situation had righted itself and all was well with his knights, he allowed Marcus and David only a few days’ time to accompany the Defender home and then return to the troops.
Christopher had earned the right to recover fully at home and was therefore spared any further service to subdue John.
Considering the price the man had paid against the prince, Richard was more than willing to be generous to his Defender.
Christopher had learned that Richard’s first destination was Tickhill.
With sincere earnest, the Defender fulfilled a promise to the man who had saved his life and had pleaded the case of Lord Robin of the Hood to the King of England.
On pure faith from his Defender’s words and as a result of the gratitude he felt, Richard promised to fully look into the charges and restore the earldom.
Christopher could ask for no more than that.
Riding in front of her Uncle David, Christin crowed happily and chewed her hands as the army skirted the village en route to the keep. Christopher and Dustin smiled over at the fat, happy cherub.
“She looks more and more like you daily,” Dustin commented.
“Yet it would seem that she harbors your characteristics,” Christopher replied, splaying his great hand on her belly. “Mayhap this child will be like me.”
“Ha!” David scoffed. “That will remain to be seen. You shall probably have a house full of women before this is through, every one of them like your wife.”
Christopher raised an eyebrow as Dustin chuckled. “Now where have I heard that threat before?”
“ ’Tis no threat, sire, but a promise,” Dustin snickered. “This child will be a girl.”
“Christ,” Christopher muttered. “And just what are you planning to name this spawn? Curtis?”
“Nay.” Dustin insisted with a grin, passing a glance at Gabrielle, seated in front of Marcus. “I was thinking on naming her after a friend.”
“Friend? What friend?” he asked.
Dustin sighed with content and snuggled back against him. “Lady Brielle de Lohr has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“Brielle?” he looked over his shoulder to Gabrielle and Marcus, as well. “Ah, of course.
“Tis a fine name.”
The gates of Lioncross yawned open wide to welcome home their lord and lady. Men were shouting and several peasants had turned out to shout their welcome as the large company passed through the gates. Christopher acknowledged the horde, he was so very glad to be home.
Jeffrey and Max were there to greet them and Christopher was immediately reminded of Anthony’s death at the sight of his brother. Edward rode close to Christopher, reading his thoughts.
“I shall tell him,” he murmured to Christopher.
“He died in battle, Edward,” Christopher said softly. “He died with a sword in his hand.”
Edward nodded. To tell Max that Marcus had killed his brother would surely create another battle, and it was best to omit certain facts to the man in this case. Christopher was tired of battles.
“What took so long?” Jeffrey greeted, a rare smile on his face. “We thought you went on the bloody quest again.”
Christopher reined his charger to a halt and carefully lowered Dustin into Jeffrey’s waiting arms. She surprised her father’s former captain by hugging him warmly.
“Nay, no quest,” Christopher said, dismounting stiffly. His wound was still tender and raw. “No more quest. No more war. No more fighting of any kind anymore.”
Jeffrey raised an eyebrow as Dustin walked away from him, making a beeline for Deborah on the front steps of the keep.
Christopher watched his wife and sister embrace happily and he could hear their chattering from where he was standing.
Weary but happy, he turned to supervise the dismantling of his troops when Jeffrey suddenly took hold of his arm.
“I must speak with you immediately, my lord,” the German said quietly.
“What is it?” Christopher removed his gauntlets.
Jeffrey glanced at Dustin briefly. “You have a visitor, my lord,” he said. “He arrived nearly three weeks ago.”
Christopher looked puzzled. “Who?”
Jeffrey cleared his throat. “Your son.”
Christopher stared back at him. “My son?” he repeated slowly. “What are you talking about?”
“Peter Myles de Vries arrived with his nurse and a male servant from France,” Jeffrey informed him.
A missive accompanied him from the Earl of Calais.
It would seem that young Peter’s mother, a Lady Amanda, and her husband, had been killed in an accident and the boy was orphaned.
The earl felt himself too old to raise the lad and decided the boy would be better off with his father. ”
Christopher was thunderstruck. His son? Here? He closed his agape mouth. “Where is he?”
“Out back, where your wife kept her rabbits,” Jeffrey replied. “It would seem that the boy has a fondness for rabbits, as well, and has already amassed a collection.”
Christopher’s eyes trailed across the compound as if he could see his son though stone walls.
Marcus walked up, removing his helmet. “Where do you want the wagons, Chris?” he asked, oblivious to the look on Christopher’s face. When his friend did not answer, he looked closely at him. “Chris?”
Christopher jerked his head to Marcus. “My son is here.”
Marcus had no idea what he was talking about. “Son?”
Christopher nodded. “My son,” he repeated, murmuring. “Lady Amanda’s son.”
Marcus looked puzzled a moment longer before realization dawned. “The lad you told me of? He is here?”
Christopher could only nod his head. Dustin suddenly reemerged from the castle and he seemed to snap out of his shocked state. “Christ, I must tell Dustin.”
“Too late,” Jeffrey murmured, and they all turned their head to see a young boy crossing the courtyard toward them.
It was obvious to anyone who looked at him that he was Christopher’s son; he was an exact miniature copy.
Christopher’s breathing stopped as his eyes beheld his son for the first time.
There was nothing they could do to stop the inevitable. Dustin was closer to the boy than they were and she immediately smiled curiously at the lad. The boy stopped and returned her smile.
Christ, Christopher thought, he even smiles like me. He should have been apprehensive as hell, but he found he was not. He knew his wife well enough to know she would be rational about this unexpected turn. At least, he hoped so.
“Hello,” she said. “Who are you?”
“Peter Myles de Vries, my lady,” he replied with a practiced bow.
“What are you doing at Lioncross, Peter?” she asked pleasantly. “Are you visiting someone?”
“Nay, my lady, I am here to meet my father,” he replied. At six years old, he was very mature for his age. “My father is Baron Christopher. Do you know where he is?”
Dustin’s smile vanished. She stared at the boy a long moment before tearing her gaze away and seeking out her husband. Christopher stood with Jeffrey and Marcus, all three men were staring back at her with different degrees of apprehension, yet none more pronounced than Christopher’s.
Christopher’s son. She looked back at the lad and saw that he was a smaller version of her husband, perfect and handsome and mannerly.
She fully realized she should become furious, incensed, shocked at the very least, but she knew in the same breath that she could not muster the emotions.
She knew Christopher as well as she knew herself, and she knew he would not be deliberately deceitful or try to hurt her.
It just did not matter anymore. They had been through too much together and she simply could not be angry with him.
The boy was looking up at her with a sweet, innocent expression and she warmed to him; he was indeed her beloved’s son and she would treat him as if he were her very own. She had enough love for a houseful of children; not limited to her own flesh and blood.
Dustin held her hand out to the boy and her smile reappeared. “Come with me, Peter. I shall introduce you.”
Christopher watched in stunned silence as his wife led his son directly to him.
“Christopher, this is Peter Myles de Vries,” she said. “Greet your son.”
Christopher tore his eyes from his wife and faced his son. “Welcome to Lioncross, Peter.”
Peter bowed like a gallant little gentleman. “Thank you, my lord. I like it here already.”
“I am pleased, then,” Christopher answered, recovering his shock. “I am sorry to hear of your mother’s passing.”
Peter’s handsome little face rippled. “Me, too. But mother always told me that if anything were to happen to her, then I would come and live with you in England. Is it true you are the greatest warrior in Richard’s army?”
“Without a doubt, lad,” Marcus said over Christopher’s shoulder. “Your father is the greatest knight who has ever lived.”
Peter’s young face lit up with pride. “My mother said that. I want to be a great knight, too.”