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Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

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BOOK: Rise of the Defender
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     “I….I understand, my lord,” she managed to
choke out.

     His eyes were riveted to her, her lips, her
pert nose, her wide gray eyes. He almost forgot his line of thoughts and
struggled to retain them, knowing he had to make himself understood or the lesson,
the struggle, would be lost.

     “Well and good for you,” he answered after
a moment. “There will be no more yelling, no more displays of temper in front
of our vassals. You will never question me, nor will you countermand any order
I give. Understood?”

     She was losing all feeling in her arms as
they gazed steadily at each other.  Now that the flash fire had abated, it was
being replaced by something soft and warm and fluid.  She had felt it before
when he had massaged her shoulders and the sensation was now back again,
stronger than before. She kept forgetting to breathe and her mouth went dry,
forcing her to lick her lips more than once.

     The gesture did not go unnoticed and
Christopher was dangerously close to plunging over the erotic abyss. He could
not remember ever wanting to kiss a woman as badly, as disobedient and willful
and stubborn as she was.

     “I told you that I understood, my lord,”
she replied softly, the fire gone from her tone. “I am not daft.”

     She was so sweet and soft and warm beneath
him that he found himself fighting the urge to run his hands all over her body.
Christ, he had to get out of there or he might end up doing something they both
regretted. He would not force her, nor would he broach the subject of
consummating their marriage. It was a firm vow of his because he knew that if
he made any sort of advances, she would most likely respond to him as she had
to all of the others and their marriage and relationship would be badly
damaged.

     She had made it very clear she hated
slobbery fools with honeyed words, and he would not act like a stallion to rut
even if he did think she was the most desirable woman he had ever met. Nay, he
had too much pride to pursue her. If she wanted to establish affection in this
marriage, then she would have to initiate it.

     Christopher pushed himself off her, leaving
her weak and shaken as he moved for the door. Dustin sat up unsteadily, her
hair askew as she turned to watch him go.

     “And another thing, my lady,” he said as he
opened the door. “You will cease to wear these ill-fitting dresses. They are
too tight and most indecent.”

     She looked down at the indigo-blue surcoat.
“This was my mother’s surcoat.”

     “I do not care whose surcoats they are, you
will not wear them anymore,” he said sternly. “And that goes for those filthy
little peasant dresses you seem to favor, as well.”        

     Dustin’s anger rose again as she stood up. “They
are perfectly good surcoats. And they are not too tight.”

     He frowned. “If they are not too tight,
then explain the broken stay? I will go and retrieve those dresses from Mistress
Rebecca today, and buy material for several more. You will be well-clothed from
now on.”

     Her lip twitched furiously. “My clothes are
clean and wearable. I will wear what I please, and I don t need you to dictate
to me what is or what is not proper attire.”

     He sighed heavily, coming out a growl. “I
see that you did not, in fact, understand one word I said.”

     “I did,” she spat. “But you said I was to
control myself in public. You never said anything about when we were in private.
And I will indeed yell at you when you make such ridiculous, insulting
statements.”

     He jaw twitched. “Behave yourself, wife, or
you shall find yourself over my knee.”

     “Ha!” she exclaimed. “You wouldn’t dare!” 
As if to prove that she did not fear him in the least, she collected another
candle holder from beside her bed and hurled it at him with all her might. It
missed, but barely.

     Christopher closed the door and bolted it,
crossing the room to his enraged wife, who now realized the foolishness of her
actions and decided that running from him might be her only chance to preserve
her buttocks.

     As fast as she was, he was faster, and she
could scarce believe when he actually sat on the bed and threw her over his
knees as if she were no more than a small child. She kicked and yelled as he
tossed her skirts aside and brought his gigantic palm come to bear on her soft,
white bottom.

     Stunned as she was, it bloody well hurt and
her last coherent thought before she began to scream for mercy was that the man
was true to his word.

 

***

 

     Christopher met David and Edward in the
bailey. The two men were on horseback, their arms laden with several packages.
Christopher stood with his hands on his hips, watching them hand the bundles
down to several waiting serving women.

     “Did you have any trouble finding the rest?”
he asked his brother.

     David raised the visor of his helmet, his
handsome face annoyed. “Nay, but so help me, Chris, I will never go shopping
for your wife again. Do you know how humiliating it was for Edward and I to
purchase bolts of fine, feminine material and stockings?”

     Christopher fought off a chuckle. “Humility
is a fine quality in a knight,” he said sternly. “I hope you selected pleasing
colors and patterns?”

     David rolled his eyes. “Aye, we did, we
did. You want we should wear them for your approval?”

     “Mayhap later.” Christopher waved him off. “Get
down off that horse. ‘Tis time for the nooning meal and I had the cook hold it
until your return. I am famished.”

     Edward and David dismounted, removing their
gauntlets as their animals were led away.

     “Lady Dustin’s friend, Rebecca, will be up
later to start on the other dresses you ordered,” David told his brother as
they walked to the steps of the castle. “She stayed up all last night to finish
the three dresses we brought.”

     “I will pay her well,” Christopher replied.

     The great hall smelled wonderfully of roast
venison and baked spiced apples. Huge loaves of bread and bowls of butter and
honey were already on the tables and the knights sat, along with several senior
soldiers and officers, pouring themselves wine and talking loudly.

     A serving wench approached Christopher timidly,
giving him a quick bob before whispering something to him. He nodded faintly and
set his goblet down.

     “Where are you going?” David demanded.

     Christopher glanced up to the second floor
landing of the stairs. “To retrieve my wife,” he stood up. “I shall be back. Commence
with the meal.”

     Dustin’s door was open and he found her
standing by the window, holding Caesar and gazing across the bailey.

     “Why aren’t you going to eat?” he asked her.

     She didn’t look at him. “I am not hungry, my
lord.”

     He sighed, knowing she was still smarting
from the licking he had given her earlier and knowing full well she was angry
with him. To get angry with her would only inflame the situation, so he tried another
approach.

     “Please, Dustin,” he said softly. “Will you
please come and eat with me?”

     She looked at him, then. “I cannot sit down.”*

     He repressed the urge to grin. “That is
your own fault. Mayhap if we bring a pillow for you to sit on?”

     She shook her head. “I will not embarrass
myself in such a fashion.”

     He thought a moment. “Then I will eat up
here with you.”

     Before Dustin could protest, he was giving
orders to two serving wenches and within minutes, the nooning meal was indeed brought
up to her rooms and nicely displayed on her small cherrywood table. Christopher
indicated a chair for her.

     “My lady?” he said respectfully.

     She eyed him a moment before setting down
Caesar and moving for the chair. Yet she avoided the chair and reached down to
her trencher, picking up a chunk of brown bread.

     He watched her as she stood, eating. “Are
you really that sore that you cannot sit and enjoy your meal?”

     She glared at him. “Aye, I am. Your hand is
big and you are strong and you hurt me.”

     He sat down, busying himself with his food.
“Had you not been so disobedient, I would not have had to teach you a lesson.”

     “And what lesson is that? That you are
stronger and bigger, and you can hurt me anytime you so choose?” she shot back.

     He took a slow, deep breath and looked
pointedly at her. “Nay, my lady. The lesson learned is that you will obey me at
all times, and be respectful.”

     She pouted angrily and turned away, chewing
on her bread. She didn’t know quite how to respond to him, because in faith,
she knew she had pushed him over the edge and what he had done was quite within
his legal right. He could have done far worse. As it was, she only had a
bruised bottom and nothing else.

     Dustin was not daft, she knew that her
mother had indeed let her have the run of the house the entire time her father
was gone and she had gotten used to having her way in everything. No one would
dare respond to her temper. But it was painfully evident that her new husband
would not tolerate her willful nature or stubbornness. She sighed, thinking how
they had come to this point this day. It had all started with Christopher
slugging Jeffrey cock-eyed and she had gotten angry. Then the whole situation
had blown itself way out of proportion because he wouldn’t do what she wanted
him to do, and that was tell her why he had struck Jeffrey.

     She could not bend and twist this man the
way she did everyone else and she was irked by it.

     “Try the apples, they are delicious,” he
remarked, his mouth full.

     She kept her stiff back to him. “I do not
want any, thank you.”

     “So you intend to only eat bread and
nothing else?” he asked.  When she shrugged, he continued. “Dustin, you did not
eat anything all day yesterday, and I know you did not break your fast this
morning. You shall make yourself ill if you do not eat more than a simple piece
of bread.”

     She shrugged again and he put his spoon
down, getting out of his chair. “Come on,” he grasped her shoulders and pushed
her back to the table. “Eat something.”

     “Nay,” she protested. “I…I can’t sit on
that chair, it will pain me.”

     He looked at her with annoyance, finally sitting
heavily in his own chair and pulling his rigid wife onto his lap. She twisted and
fussed, and tried to pull away from him.

     “
Cease,
” he snapped softly, and she
was instantly still, though she was glaring at him. “Now, my legs are a bit
softer than the chair, so you may sit with me and eat your meal.” As she shook
her head, he raised an impatient eyebrow. “I shall feed you if I have to.”

     Her anger glazed with uncertainty, and she
took the remaining piece of bread in her hand and shoved it into her mouth,
still glaring at him as she chewed. He repressed a smile, reaching across the
small table and pulling her trencher next to his.

     “Try the apples, they are delicious,” he
picked up his spoon and resumed eating.

     It was certainly the strangest meal Dustin
had ever eaten. Torn between her anger for him and the comfort of his warmth
and closeness, she somehow managed to eat everything in front of her.
Christopher was pleased she was complying, realizing toward the end of the meal
that his left hand had never left her waist. He was also hopeful that her anger
was spent, for he had no desire to butt heads with her the rest of the day.

     He finished his meal, watching her as she
finished hers. As she was finishing the apple cider left in her cup, his right
hand fingered the skirt of the indigo-blue surcoat she wore.

     “David brought your new dresses,” he said. “Why
do you not wear one?”

     She set the cup down, looking at his huge
fingers grasp her dress. She could refuse, but she could not take another
spanking this day.

     “Very well,” she said quietly, hating
herself for sounding so damn submissive. “Which one would you like to see?”

     “You choose,” he replied.

     She stood up, rubbing her bum as she moved
over to the bundles piled next to her bed. The one on the top was the lavender.
She picked it up and broke the strings that tied it.

     Christopher rose, moving for the door. “I
shall be downstairs,” he told her. “Come and show me when you have finished.”

     “Aye, my lord,” she responded quietly.

     He gave her blond head a second glance as
he exited the room, wondering if she were going to do as he asked or if she
would find some other way to disobey him.

 

***

 

     Christopher was outside in mid-afternoon,
watching the De Velt twins’ sword-play in the small arena to the west of the
fortress. David, Edward and Leeton stood with him, all yelling encouragement or
insults at the two burly men. Several other officers and soldiers were also
watching, including Jeffrey. David nudged his brother.

BOOK: Rise of the Defender
3.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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