Rise of the Defender (24 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

BOOK: Rise of the Defender
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     He picked up a swatch of the gold,
remembering how beautiful she had looked in it. He also remembered the way she
laughed with Rebecca, her unrestrained comical sense and the beautiful shape of
her mouth when she smiled. She had smiled at him like that on a few rare
occasions. He wondered darkly if he would ever see that smile again.

     There was a way out of this, of course. He
could lie to her. Christ, he hated that thought. He was a man of impeccable
honor and standards and he knew he could not, in good conscience, lie to his wife.
But he was feeling a peculiar sense of desperation, as if he would do anything
to gain peace between them.

     David came up behind him, surveying the
room with surprise. “What in the hell happened here?”

     Christopher was still clutching the piece
of gold material. “I do not know for sure, but I have an idea.”

     “What idea? Where is your wife?” David asked
with rising concern.

     Christopher sighed. “Off somewhere, hating
me,” he said softly, looking at his brother. “I took a serving wench to my bed
last night, David. I can only imagine that Dustin has heard the rumors.”

     David looked puzzled. “Why would you take a
whore when you have a wife?”

     “I haven’t bedded her yet!” he suddenly
snapped, disgusted with the whole situation, fighting for a grip on himself. 
He raked his fingers through his blond hair. “Leave it at that, David. I have
to go find Dustin.”

     “You haven’t bedded her? Damn, why not?”
David grabbed his brother’s arm, trying to understand. “She’s the most
beautiful woman I have ever seen, Chris. Why in the hell would you leave her
untouched?”

     Christopher was frustrated and agitated for
too many reasons. “Because…oh hell, ‘tis too complicated. Just leave me alone
and say nothing of this to anyone.”

     But David wouldn’t be put off. “Because you
are too stubborn to admit you want her, isn’t that right?” David’s voice was
low and controlled. “And she’s too naïve and innocent to know what she wants. You
have never had to fight a woman to get into her bed, Chris, and you think that
Dustin will refuse you. Tell me I am right.”

     Christopher’s eyes were dark as he glared
at his brother. “If you know so much, then answer your own damn question.”

     David smiled wryly. “I already have. And I
know something else, too. You care for your wife, and you do not want to.”

     “To hell with you,” Christopher growled,
throwing down the piece of golden silk and storming from the room.

     David shook his head at his brother’s
foolishness, foolishness that just might cost him what he did so want, yet
wouldn’t admit it - his wife.

 

***

 

     Christopher found Dustin out by the rabbit
hutches, feeding a big, fat white rabbit a bunch of greens. She looked like a
serving wench, dusty and dirty with her hair askew under the bright sun. But
she looked terribly beautiful and his heart did a strange little twist, a
feeling he was coming to associate with her.  He was coming to soften every
time he looked at her.  He stood there a moment, struggling to summon the
courage to speak to her.

     “Greetings, wife,” he said softly.

     She didn’t look up at him or acknowledge
him in any way. He waited a nominal amount of time for her to speak before
clearing his throat. “I am speaking to you, Dustin.”

     She put the rabbit back in his cage. “I
know,” she replied.

     “Why do you not answer me?” he asked.

     “I have nothing to say to you, my lord,”
she said respectfully, busying herself with another rabbit in another cage.

     “Why?” he asked.

     She held up another bunch of greens to the
little brown bunny, not answering him. He watched her as her jaw ticked and she
blinked rapidly as if chasing off tears. He had never felt so guilty.

     “Tell me what you heard,” he said softly.

     Dustin could not hold the tears back
anymore and she sobbed quietly into the rabbit’s silky fur. He waited
patiently, wondering why she was feeling so hurt if indeed she were as
indifferent to him as she pretended. But she was a prideful woman and he knew
her honor was damaged.

     “I cannot repeat it,” she whispered.

     He stepped closer to her, nearly touching
her. “I would hear it. Tell me.”

     She cried into the rabbit’s coat. “That…
that you bedded a serving wench and she bears your bastard.”

     He sighed sadly, feeling as badly as he
possibly could.  “Put the rabbit down and come with me,” he said gently.

     “Nay,” she suddenly hissed, moving away from
him. “I hate you, Christopher de Lohr. I hate you with all that I am and I will
never forgive you for shaming me,
never
. Go to London and leave me alone
for I do not ever want to see you again.”

     She had every right to be mad and he had to
force down an instinctive response. “Easy, my lady, easy,” he said calmly. “Will
you please put the rabbit down and allow me to explain?”

     “Nay,” her voice was louder, her crying
gaining speed. “There is nothing you can say that I will want to hear. Go
away
.”

     He didn’t care if they were creating a
scene. He was going to speak to her and she was going to listen. He snatched
the rabbit by the ears and tossed it into the cage. Dustin, startled and
angered, started to scream at him but he caught her around the waist and threw
her over his shoulder. He then carried her, kicking and hollering, all the way
back through the kitchens and up to his room, where he proceeded to set he down
and lock the door for good measure.

     Dustin was like a wet cat, all fury and
fight. She immediately started throwing things at him, anything she could get
her hands on, screaming like a banshee. He removed his mail, his sword, until
he was dressed only in a tunic, boots and a pair of breeches. The entire time
she raged, he had yet to say a word, and spent most of his time dodging flying
objects. But he let her go on; she had every right to be mad.

     He stood and watched her as she stripped
all of the covers off the bed, bashing the pillows against the wooden frame
until feathers flew everywhere, all the while screaming of her hatred for him
and for men in general.

     As he watched her vent, it struck him that
he could not lie to her if he wanted to build a good relationship with the
woman. The relationship was probably already destroyed, but he still could not
makeup falsehoods simply to ease tensions. He must be honest with her and as
much as he found himself choking on the mere thought, ask for her forgiveness.

     He went over to the edge of the bed,
standing in the flurry of feathers that stuck to his hair and clothing.

     “Would you listen to me now?” he asked.

     She glared at him with a look to kill, the
tears and fury having expended most of her energy. Lacking the will or desire
to go on anymore, she fell forward onto the mattress and rolled onto her back,
an arm up over her head as she looked away from him.

     Seeing she was calm and quiet for the
moment, he sat on the edge of the bed. Forming the correct words were not easy.

     “I am sorry for your hurt,” he said softly.
“Please know that I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally. I do
mean that.”

     “Then it's true,” she whispered. “You did
bed her.”

     “I did, but it is not that simple,” he
answered, struggling with himself. “I didn’t want to marry you; you know that.
Yet as the days passed and I came to know you, I came to like you. You are a
priceless character, and a dazzling beauty, and the more I came to like you,
the angrier I became at myself. Call it independence, pride, arrogance,
whatever you wish. I felt threatened by you, I think.”

     “Why?” she hiccupped, still not looking at
him.

     “Because I knew once I lay myself open to
you I would be vulnerable for your rejection,” he replied. “You told me
yourself that you did not want a husband. And the more I felt want for you, the
harder it became for me. Last night, I wanted you, I will admit it now. But I
would not go to you, knowing your feelings and knowing mine. The wench was a
non-threatening outlet for pent-up emotions. She was an object, Dustin, and
nothing more, but I found that all the while I was with her, I was imagining
she was you. ‘Tis not an excuse I give you but an explanation. Whether or not
it eases your humiliation, I will tell you all the same.”

     She lay back on his bed, staring off into
the space of the room. Even in her state she realized that it must have taken
considerable courage for him to admit his feelings. If he had the courage,
mayhap she did, too.

     Dustin sat up, drying her eyes before
standing on her feet. Slowly she released her hair from its clip, shaking it
until it fell all about her like a glorious coat of gold.

     “Do you care for me, Christopher?” she
asked softly.

     He blinked slowly before answering. “Aye.”

     She turned to him with a raised brow. “You do?”

     He nodded and stood up, turning away from
her. “Aye, I do, and do not ask me why, either. You are the most bull-headed,
obstinate, unyielding woman I have ever had the misfortune to marry, and after
the disrespect you have shown me, I have no idea why I….”

     “Christopher,” she cut him off and he
turned around.  “I care for you, too.”

     He just stared at her, unsure of what to do
next. He simply shook his head faintly, his blue eyes melding with her gray
ones.

     “I do not know what to say, Dustin,” he murmured.
“This is madness; all of it. Other husbands take servants to bed and not an
eyebrow is raised, but I regretted what I had done the moment I did it because
I felt as if I had betrayed you. And I have.”

     She lowered her gaze and leaned against the
canopy post, deep in thought. “I know nothing of coupling, Chris. I have seen
animals mate and know the physical aspects of it, but I am an innocent when it
comes to the mating of people.” Her hand absently caressed the post. “I know
that it is the most intimate act a husband and wife can perform, yet a
necessary one to perpetuate the family. I do not know why I feel so betrayed
that you would choose to mate with another. It’s not as if I am a desirable
woman, not like some, so in a sense I do not blame you for seeking out a more
experienced woman.”

     He came to her then, his hand closing over
hers as it held on to the bedpost. “You are by far the most desirable woman I
have ever met,” he said quietly, reaching out his free hand to cup her face. “Think
not for one moment that I do not find you attractive. You affect me, lady, and
that frightens me.”

     Dustin’s heart began to pound wildly against
her ribs as his blue eyes bore into her. She didn’t know why and she suddenly
stopped caring why. He was so big and powerful and masculine and, yes, even
though he was a man, she had to force herself to admit he was attractive and
wonderful.

     Even if he had bedded the wench, he wasn’t
entirely to blame for that. She knew she had not exactly been yielding and she
was suddenly seized with the urge to know the feeling of his lips on hers.  To
her, a kiss was very intimate and it was difficult to comprehend much more.

     “Chris,” she whispered.

     “Aye?” his voice was husky.

     “I do not like honeyed words,” she
stammered back. “And I slug men who try to kiss me.”

     “Shall I go no further?” his eyes twinkled
under half-lowered lids.

     She gazed back into them, her fear
returning slightly. “Tell me you care for me, as a husband should.”

     “I care for you as a husband should,” he repeated,
very nearly on her.

     “Tell me you shall protect and defend me
always, and that you shall never bed another woman,” she whispered, feeling his
hot breath on her face.

     “All that and more, sweetheart,” he
whispered hoarsely.

     “Dustin?”

     “Aye?” she could nearly taste him, as close
as he was and her arms and legs were tingling painfully, her heart pounding in
her ears.

     “May I have permission to kiss you?” he
asked, barely audible.

     “Aye,” she replied. “Chris?”

     “Yes, Dustin?” he could nearly taste her,
too, and it was driving him mad.

     She hesitated a brief second, her eyes
tearing away from his mouth long enough to look him in the eye. “Speak honeyed
words to me,” she gushed breathlessly.

     He was on her before she could draw another
breath, his mouth warm and soft and suckling her so fiercely she was
overwhelmed. She’d never been kissed before - Dear Lord, is this what she had been
afraid of? She knew instantly that she had been foolish for fearing something
as sweet and wonderful as this.

     Dustin was pliable and willing as
Christopher’s mouth did thrilling, erotic things to her own. His tongue gently
pried her lips apart and she opened her mouth wide, crying softly as his tongue
plunged into her sweet depths. Her arms wound around his neck, her hands pulling
at his thick blond hair in movements that were purely instinctive and needful.

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