Chapter Sixty #2
“You will be,” Dustin said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You are most definitely your father’s son. I can see it already.”
Peter was nearly bursting with pride. He grinned unabashedly at his father and Christopher smiled faintly, tousling the boy’s hair. “Return to the keep, then, and I shall speak with you after my men are settled.”
His face as radiant as the sun, Peter turned tail and raced back into the castle. Christopher looked at his wife when the boy had disappeared through the door.
“Dustin,” he began softly.
She put her fingers to his lips as Marcus and Jeffrey made themselves scarce. “He’s a beautiful boy, Chris. Have you known about him all along?”
He shook his head. “His mother informed me only last year,” he replied softly. “I am sorry I never told you. I never thought to see the lad and simply saw no point in it.”
“Who’s his mother?” Dustin asked.
“Lady Amanda de Fortlage,” he replied. “Although you were never introduced to her, you did see her last year at one of the parties John gave. She was at the grand ball we attended right after you discovered your pregnancy.”
“I remember,” Dustin nodded. “When David first met Emilie, Lady Amanda was the dark-haired woman you spoke with.”
“Aye,” he nodded. “Are you angry?”
She smiled. “Should I be? I am not, truly. He seems like a very nice young man.”
He let out a sigh of pure relief, pure disbelief in the realization that his son was here, at Lioncross. “Lady de Lohr, you are a wise, remarkable woman. I cannot tell you how glad I am that I married you.”
She wound her arms around his waist. “Or were forced to marry me, as it were.”
He grinned and brushed his lips against hers. “Aye, forced to indeed.”
They gazed at each other, love and adoration filling the air engulfing them. Never had Christopher been so happy. Never had Dustin been so entirely content.
“Here, take your daughter.” David walked up to them, holding Christin out to her parents. “She smells fully ripe.”
Dustin took Christin with a chuckle. “Do not be such a coward, David.”
“I am not,” he insisted, propping his helmet up on his head. “By the way, who was that young boy? He looked familiar.”
Christopher looked at his daughter, his wife. “He’s your nephew, David. The result of a liaison between Lady Amanda de Fortlage and myself. Lady Amanda and her husband passed away recently, so the boy has come to live with me.”
David’s eyes widened. “Jesus Chr… your son? No wonder he looks familiar.”
Dustin patted Christopher’s cheek in an affectionate gesture. “He is beautiful, just like his father. Now, I really must go and change Christin out of these smelly clothes.”
Christopher watched his wife walk away, still astonished with the ease in which she had accepted his bastard.
No questions, no anger, no tears of humiliation.
He was stunned and so very relieved at the same time, but he saw a definite wisdom that had come to his wife since he had been married to her.
She was calmer, more accepting, far more in control of herself.
He knew he had the extreme situations to thank for her maturity, although he would not have put her through any of them had he had the choice.
“I am shocked, Chris,” David murmured. “You never told me that Amanda was pregnant.”
“I did not know until I saw her at Windsor last year,” Christopher said. “I honestly never thought to see the boy, so I told no one, save Marcus.”
“Marcus knew?” David asked, incensed that his brother had seen fit to tell a friend, but not him.
Christopher put up a placating hand. “I had no choice but to tell him; however, we shall get into that later. Right now I would see to my wife and daughter, and then become better acquainted with my son.”
David watched his brother cross the compound, watching as the Defender’s eyes roved his keep, making sure there was nothing out of the ordinary or changed.
He shook his head and turned away, life was certainly full of surprises.
Now if he could only hope Emilie would be as understanding as Dustin when he explained to her that he had pledged his services to Richard to help his king reclaim his holdings.
Wives, like brothers, were confusing creatures.
Marcus passed David and was good-naturedly surprised to be the recipient of a slug to the arm.
He eyed David with a grin, just like old times.
David pretended to ignore him as he joined Edward in disassembling the men-at-arms. Picking up a rock, he sailed it at David and struck the man in the back of the helm.
David flinched, turned and shook his fist at Marcus menacingly.
Gabrielle was waiting patiently by Marcus’ destrier, expecting to be shown into the keep by the general. Marcus grabbed her few items from his saddlebags and rounded his horse, his smile pleasant upon her.
“I would thank you again for the kindness you have shown me, sire,” she said. “I will be forever in your debt.”
He held out his elbow to her. “Nonsense. You owe me nothing.”
She flushed a pretty shade of pink as he led her toward the keep. Her eye deliberately avoided him, instead, skimming the castle. “This is a large place. Well kept, too.”
“Thanks to the baron,” Marcus replied. “You shall like it here.”
“I know I will,” she replied. “Lady Dustin has been very kind to me.”
He nodded, his smile fading. “She is a kind person.”
Gabrielle looked at him, her heart going out to the man who had loved and lost. He was so very handsome, so very strong, and she could feel her own heart breaking.
She could never hope to have a man as grand as Marcus Burton, not after what had happened.
But even so, she wished him much happiness someday when he had gotten over Lady Dustin.
“The weather is much more severe here than in the south where you are from,” Marcus said. “Even the summers seem warmer.”
Gabrielle snorted lady-like. “I doubt it. Summers were most miserable in Penzance.”