Rise of the Defender (36 page)

     Dustin turned back to her husband. “This is
most comfortable, my lord,” she said. “Did you really go through all this
trouble for me? I could have just as easily rode Hercules.”

     He raised an eyebrow. “You mean that monstrous
horse? We shall discuss him at a later time, wife. I am not at all comfortable
with you astride that leggy beast, although the stable master assures me that
the animal is as gentle as one of your rabbits when you ride him.

     “He is gentle,” she insisted. “And if you
had doubts, why did you bring him along?”

     “Because if I did not, you would be arguing
with me just as you are now.” he scowled at her, then flipped down his visor. “Make
yourself comfortable, lady. ‘Twill be a long ride until we stop for the night.

     She fought off a smile. “Christopher,” she
beckoned him closer with her cocked finger.

     He leaned down again. “What is it?”

     Smiling now, she reached up and flipped up
his visor, kissing him on the nose and then slamming his visor back down again.

     “Nothing.”

     Underneath his closed visor, he was smiling
broadly. He straightened again and shook his head at her. “Nymph,” he muttered.

     Dustin settled against the side of the
wagon, feeling warm and dry as the rain poured all around her. Although she could
not see him, she could hear Christopher giving orders and she sighed with
satisfaction, looking forward to the days ahead.

***

     The weather was absolutely hellish. The
closer they drew to London, the more thunder and lightning set in. Dustin
alternately dozed and read in the wagon, very dry when the rest of the party
was soaked and chilled to their very bones. A few times, she peered out from
underneath the tarp to see if she could catch a glimpse of her husband, but the
wagons were positioned midway in the column of soldiers and it was impossible
to see the knights at the very front. Not particularly disturbed, she simply
settled in for the ride and tried to keep herself occupied.

     It was nearly the middle of the afternoon
when the wagons halted and Dustin sat up expectantly, hearing orders echoing in
the distance of a voice she knew to be Christopher’s. She barely realized how
excited she was to see him when suddenly he appeared beside her, his visor down
on his massive helmet.

     “How does my lady fare?” he demanded
lightly.

     Dustin’s heart warmed. “Well, thank you,
but I would like to stretch my legs a bit, if only for a moment.”

     “That can be arranged.”

     He held out a gloved hand to her and she
placed her small hand in his, swinging her legs over the end of the wagon and
standing on the mushy road. The other knights, all helmeted and looking quite
alike, were suddenly standing around her and Christopher.

     “The men are seeking shelter, as ordered,”
David said. “Thank God for all of these trees.”

     Christopher nodded. “At least it will
provide them with some reprieve from the rain as they eat. “As it is now, my
wife and I will forge ahead and find our own bit of shelter.”

     Christopher took a bag from one of the
soldiers and moved to pick up Dustin, but she balked. “Can I please walk? I
have boots to protect my feet from the water.”

     He nodded, taking her hand instead and
leading her into a big clump of trees. It was still damp, but they were clear
from the driving rain under the heavy canopy.

     Dustin stood eagerly while he opened the
bag, she was famished. He handed her a wedge of cheese and chunk of bread and
she accepted them happily. He watched her as she ate with gusto.

     “How do you find the wagon?” he asked.

     “Tiresome,” she replied, glancing at him. “Can
I please ride with you?”

     He pulled off his helmet with a grunt of
satisfaction, his blond hair wavy with moisture. “Nay, ‘tis too wet still. I
would have you ride dry in the wagon.”

     Dustin didn’t even know what feminine wiles
were, but she had a fierce load of them. She had seen her mother use soft words
and actions to persuade her father, and it almost always worked. Mayhap if she
used the same cunning on her own husband, he would allow her to ride up front with
him and his knights. She was bored silly in the wagon.

     She moved over and casually brushed up
against him. When he looked away from the bread in his hand, she smiled sweetly.
“Please, Christopher, allow me to ride with you and your men? I… I miss you.”

     He stopped chewing, gazing back into her
gray eyes with some surprise.

     “You do?” he managed to ask.

     “Aye.” She thought about it now, realizing
it was true. “Aye, I do. Can I please ride with you?”

     He swallowed his bite. He would like
nothing better than to have her ride with him, better still, literally ride in
front of him. But he was soaked through and he knew she would become, too, if
she rode in the open.

     “Dustin, ‘tis far too wet,” he said gently.
“I must insist that you ride in the wagon.”

     Miffed, she turned away from him and he was
remorseful that he had denied her request. Yet, for her own health, he knew he
must.

     “Do not move away from me,” he ordered
softly. “Come back.”

     “Nay,” she snapped. “I will not.”

     He reached out a long arm and grabbed her,
pulling her back against him. She gasped at the swiftness of his action, her
eyes wide and irritated at him. Yet the eyes that gazed back at her were soft
and warm. “Tell me you miss me again.”

     “Nay,” she said firmly.

     A smile played on his lips. “Tell me.”

     She tried to pull free but only succeeded
in being held even tighter. “I won’t. One time is all you will hear.”

     He leaned in, brushing her cheek with his
rapidly filling-in beard. “Tell me, or I will scratch you to death.”

     She felt the giggles rising, the beginnings
of a game afoot. “Torture me with fire and stone, my lord, but I will never
utter those words to you again.”

     “You will,” his voice was soft and
seductive. “Tell me you miss me, wife.”

     His beard was scratching her neck, sending
chills up her back and she struggled to pull away from him. “Never,” she vowed
with a smile on her lips.

     “You stubborn creature, tell me,” he
insisted, his breath hot on her ear.

     She pushed hard against his breastplate,
managing to put a miniscule amount of distance between them. “I would hear the
words from you, then, my lord.”

     He suddenly pulled back, looking quite
serious. “Nay, for it would be untrue.”

     Her mirth drained and her mouth went agape.
“What? You mean to tell me that you do not miss me?”

     “Nay,” he said callously, looking over at
his food as if he suddenly remembered it were still there. “Men do not miss
their wives. Their wives miss them because it is right that they should.”

     “Oh!” she gasped in outrage, slapping his
hands from her. She managed to pull free from one hand and was staunchly
fighting the other when he suddenly yanked her back to him again, so close that
his face was a mere inch from her own. Dustin swallowed hard, suddenly
forgetting her anger as his eyes bore into her.

     “Where is your sense of humor, Lady de
Lohr?” he whispered raggedly. “Of course I miss you. I ache for you. Why do you
think I halted the column? My men need no rest. I did it so that I would be
able to see you.”

     A twinkle crept into her eye and her arms
found their way around his neck of mail and armor. “You are an arrogant man, husband,”
she said. “The most arrogant I have ever met. And cruel, too.”

     He raised an eyebrow, holding her bundled
body against his own. “Arrogant, absolutely. Cruel, mayhap. Christ, you weigh
as much as a horse in all of this material.”

     “Good,” she said with a smirk, knowing the
dresses were indeed heavy, but with this man’s strength, they were practically
nothing. “I hope I break your arms. Now, will you reconsider letting me ride
with you?”

     “Nay,” he said flatly.

     Dustin didn’t want to hear that word, she
didn’t like it. She pulled herself up, closer to him, and began to pepper his
face with quick, hot kisses. “Please?” she kissed. “Please, and again, p
lease?
”

     He started to return her kisses when his
better sense grabbed him and he put his hands up to stop her. “Dustin,” he
snapped, exasperated. “I said no. Do not harass me.”

     She latched onto his earlobe, sucking it as
he had suckled her nipples, simply because the action seemed erotic. “Please?”

     Christ, sucking his earlobe nearly undid
him. Had he possessed any less control, he would have thrown her to the ground
and bedded her right there. Her hot little mouth would be his undoing, he knew
it, for all he could think of was that same pink orifice on his manhood and he
shuddered, trying desperately to bring himself back to the world at hand.

     “Dustin,” he murmured, yet his arms were holding
her fiercely. “Cease immediately.”

     “Only if you allow me to ride with you,”
she whispered, hot, into his ear.

     He shuddered again, the exquisite torture
too much and he knew she had won her battle. “Very well,” he relented. “Now
cease at once.”

     She released his earlobe and smiled broadly
at him, her lips red from the activity. He rolled his eyes and kissed her hard.

     “Do not ever do that again,” he said
against her mouth. “’Tis a whore’s trick to use sex to gain your own end.”

     She looked blankly at him and he knew she
had no idea what he was talking about. “But you said I could ride with you,”
she said.

     There was no use arguing the point, at
least not now. But he would have to educate her soon, for the power she held
over him eyen now was overwhelming. Should she learn to use that power
intelligently, he would be so much mud in her hands. It was a frightening
thought.

     He lowered her to the ground, helping her
secure the hood of her cloak before putting his helmet back on. Then he looked
sternly at her. “Well, come, wife. But if you soak to the skin, I do not want
to hear a word of complaint.”

     “I promise, not a word,” she said, biting
her lip to keep from grinning. “Thank you for your graciousness, my lord.”

     He snorted in reply, gathering the empty
bag and leading her carefully out of the trees and back into the harsh rain.

     Dustin stood with David and Leeton as
Christopher ordered Hercules brought forth. The warmblood was as tall as the
destriers, his big brown eyes soft and liquid. Dustin went to the animal,
hugging his great head and the horse pressed into her. Christopher shook his
head faintly; she treated the horse just like she treated that damnable cat.

     She moved around to mount and Christopher
held out his hands to act as her boost. Putting her left knee into the sling of
his interlaced fingers, she propelled herself up onto the animal and
immediately swung her right leg over the pommel of the saddle. Even with all of
the skirts and undergarment, Christopher saw that she was riding astride, as a
man does.

     He scowled in disbelief. “What are you
doing?”

     She looked completely innocent. “What do
you mean?”

     “Dustin,” he lowered his voice. “I realize
that you are used to riding astride, but you will not ride that way today. Both
legs on the left, please.”

     She stared back at him, but she was already
complying. But ‘tis easier for me to ride him astride. Hercules is used to me
riding him that way.”

     “That may well be, but you will ride as a
proper lady in the company of my men,” his voice was low and patient. “You are
my wife and I will not allow you to be seen in such an indecent position.”

     She honestly could not fathom his outrage,
yet she knew that true ladies did not ride astride. Nodding compliantly, she
tried to position herself comfortably and gathered her reins. With a lingering
look, Christopher lowered his visor and moved to his own mount.

     When the column moved forward, Hercules
turned from a docile creature into a snorting, dancing beast that tried to
throw his mistress off every few steps. Dustin struggled with the animal, shortening
his reins tightly to give him less of a chance to throw his head around and to
give her better control. Even as the big animal fought and grunted, she
remained very much in control and rode him quite ably. Christopher and the
others watched her closely, quite concerned for her safety, but were
nonetheless very impressed by her skill.

     “What’s wrong with him?” her husband
demanded.

     “He does not like the way I am riding,” she
told him between grunts of exertion. “He prefers me astride.

     Christopher didn’t answer, continuing to
watch his wife closely and making sure he stayed clear of the flying hooves.
After several minutes of fighting, Dustin finally pulled the animal to a halt.