Rise of the Defender (78 page)

     “In France,” she replied softly. “His name
is Peter Myles de Vries, my husband's last name.”

     He could only look at her, astonished and
seized with a tremendous sense of shock. She watched the emotions play on the
face of a man she had seldom seen emotion from and it brought her pain anew, as
well, even though it had been nearly four years. God, she had loved this man more
than life itself and she had known very well that the feelings were not
returned. Aye, she bore his bastard because she knew it was all she would ever
have of him. The elderly man she eventually married never questioned her about
her son's paternity and had loved them both unconditionally. Although she did
not return his love, it was a stable environment for Peter and her son was her
utmost concern.

     Yet she didn’t blame Christopher for simply
being himself. He was far too independent for a wife, so she thought. Four
years had done a lot to ease her bitterness. She went over to him and put her
small hands in his massive arms.

     “I named him Peter Myles, after my father
and yours. He’s the exact image of you, Chris, truly,” she said softly, seeing
his shock. “I am sorry, I do not mean to throw this overwhelming news on you,
but I felt you should know. 'Tis your right.”

     He gazed back at her, his hand enclosing
one of hers. “Oh, Amanda, I do not know what to say.''

     “Say nothing,” she forced a brave smile. “'Tis
all past now and you have a bright future with a beautiful young wife to look
forward to. She will bear you many strong children, I know it.”

     “She is pregnant now,” he whispered as if
the thought suddenly occurred to him. “She insists this child is a boy.”

     “It probably is,” Amanda agreed. “'Tis only
right that a de Lohr bear male heirs.”

     He was staring off into space, digesting
this bit of news that left him shaken to the core. His eyes met Amanda's brown
ones. “I have a son?” he echoed with disbelief.

     She nodded, a smile still playing on her
lips. “A big, healthy boy with your blond hair. He knows about you, Chris. I
felt he had a right to know who his true father was, although my husband has
raised him as his own. Peter is a happy, well-mannered boy and you would be
verily proud of him.”

     He was shocked. He remembered telling
Leeton once that if he had a son, he would never let him out of his sight. Now
he discovered he had a son, and he found that demanding access to the child to
be the farthest thing from his mind. His son was a boy, happy, living with his
mother and the only father he had ever known. What right did he have to demand
the child be returned to him? He had no right at all and he would never be so
very cruel. Furthermore, he would never do that to Amanda. She didn't have to
tell him, but she had out of courtesy and respect. He would not turn on her
like a madman and demand to take her child away. But his heart ached for his
little boy. His son.

     Amanda sensed his confusion and knew it was
time for her to leave. She patted his hand and kissed him on the cheek. “Good
fortune to you, baron, and your new family. I must go now.”

     He looked up at her, the sky-blue eyes dark
with misery. “Thank you for telling me, Amanda. I am only sorry... sorry we had
to go our separate ways. I am sorry you felt that you could not tell me you
were pregnant when last we saw each other.”

     “It was for the best,” she insisted
bravely. “Had you stayed and married me, you would have been miserable. You
didn't love me; you loved Richard. 'Tis better this way, Chris. I would prefer
it as such than being married to a man who didn't want me.”

     She gave him one last smile and blew him a
kiss as she yanked the curtains open. He heard her give an audible gasp and he
stiffened, turning his attention to the hall before her. Marcus Burton was
standing in the middle of the corridor, staring at both of them quite
emotionlessly. His eyes glittered in the torchlight and Christopher could feel
the disgust emanating from the man.

     “Your wife is feeling ill, baron,” he said
coldly. “She wishes to return to your apartments.”

     Christopher pushed past Amanda and on into
the hall. “Marcus.” he glanced at Amanda's apprehensive face. “Lady Amanda and
I were simply having a private conference, nothing more.”

     Marcus spun on his heel. “Why should I care
about anything you do, baron?”

     Christopher reached out and grabbed Marcus,
causing the big man to tense as if preparing for a fistfight. His cobalt-blue
eyes were blazing with fury.

     “It is not what it looks like, Marcus,”
Christopher insisted in a low voice.

     Amanda found her feet and slipped past the
men without a word. Marcus eyed her with contempt as if she were the castle
prostitute. Then, he stopped trying to bank his anger and face Christopher.

     “You have got a hell of a lot of nerve
lecturing me on the fidelity of marriage when you go out and find the nearest
bitch to bed,” he seethed.

     Christopher kept himself calm. “I wasn't
going to bed her, Marcus. She's an old friend.”

     “I know,” Marcus snapped. “I know exactly
who she is. You had a relationship with her. Jesus Christ, it isn't enough that
you married the most beautiful woman in the realm? You do not even have the
decency to remain faithful to your wife, while accusing me of lusting after
her. You hypocritical son-of-a-bitch.”

     “Watch your tongue,” Christopher growled.
“You know not of what you speak.”

     “Then, pray, tell me.” Marcus was agitated,
trying to keep himself from physically attacking Christopher. “I came out here
looking for you because the wine has made Dustin sick. She vomited all over her
surcoat and even now David and Deborah are taking her back to your apartments.
And I find you alone with that French whore in a secluded alcove? What in the
hell am I supposed to think?”

     Christopher's jaw ticked ominously. “I
realize how it looks, Burton, but trust me when I tell you nothing went on. I
swear on my oath to Richard that nothing happened between Lady Amanda and I.”
His tone lowered to a husky growl. “But since you seem to think the very worst,
I will tell you my reasons for being alone with her Lady Amanda and I did
indeed have a relationship before I went on the quest. We parted ways shortly
before I left, and she came to tell me that she found herself pregnant around the
time I sailed with Richard. My son is four years old now, living with the Earl
of Reivne' in France,” he found that repeated the news filled him with sadness
and longing all over again. “That, baron, is why I was alone with her. This is
the first time I have seen her since I left with Richard and she felt I had a
right to know, as the boy's father.”

     Marcus looked back at him doubtfully, but
sedate nonetheless. “You didn't know she was pregnant when you left?”

     “Of course not,” Christopher said. “If I
had, I would now be married to Lady Amanda instead of Dustin. I would not have
allowed her to bear my bastard in shame.”

     Marcus' hot-stance cooled in mere seconds
as the full impact of the explanation weighed down on him. “I do not know what
to say,” he lowered his gaze. “I heard your voice and was about to pull the
curtain back myself when Lady Amanda opened it. I saw you, and I saw her, and I
drew the only natural conclusion I could think of.”

     “I realize that,” Christopher said. “God
only knows, I know exactly how it must have looked. But I assure you, the lady
simply wanted to tell me of my son. That was all Marcus. Surely you know I care
for Dustin a great deal. I’d never do anything to jeopardize my relationship
with her.”

     Marcus shrugged, off-balance, running his
hand through his hair. “I know.”

     Christopher began to walk, taking Marcus
with him. “Is Dustin all right?”

     “Sick to her stomach,” he replied. “She's
more upset about ruining the surcoat than anything.”

     Christopher nodded, quickening his pace as
they headed for the stairs.

     “Chris, about everything I said,” Marcus
offered feebly. “I didn't mean it. I was angry.”

     “I know you were, and you had every reason
to be,” Christopher replied.

     They took the stairs two at a time,
reaching the dimly lit corridor on the second floor.

     “I am sorry you never knew about your son,”
Marcus said quietly, sounds echoing off the wall. “I can only imagine your
surprise.”

     Christopher nodded. “Shock is more apt a
term. And sorrow. Sorrow that I will most likely never know him,” he looked at
Marcus. “This knowledge goes no further, Marcus. Not even David, and especially
not Dustin. Agreed?”

     “Absolutely,” Marcus nodded.

     “Thank you,” Christopher said sincerely as
they rounded the corner into the wing where he was housed. He knew that Marcus
would take his secret to the grave, but he was still reeling from the news. But
it filled him with an even greater love for the child Dustin carried.

     He was denied one child, mayhap he could
make it up to the next.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

     The weeks following Christopher’s
announcement of Dustin’s pregnancy brought happy mentions from friends and
allies alike. David in particular seemed thrilled with the news. But the one
person in Christopher’s inner circle, however, who seemed to be increasingly
distant from mother-to-be was Marcus.

     Dustin noticed, of course, every hour of
every day.  She had hoped he would come around, or at least tell her what was
bothering him, but he had made no such attempt. As the days passed, so did her
sense of concern. Finally, she’d had enough. His aloofness was beginning to
wear on her and she was determined to know what his issue was.

     One day when he had come to discuss a few
matters with Christopher, she slipped out and followed him from her apartments,
cornering him in a deserted hall as he was heading for the narrow servant’s
staircase at the end of the corridor.

     “I would know what is troubling you,
Marcus,” she demanded softly.

     He studied her coolly, his cobalt-blue eyes
glittering in the torchlight. She was dressed in a heavy woolen surcoat, a bit
too long due to her expanding waistline, and her gray eyes stared back at him
with concern.

     “I do not know what you mean,” he replied.

     “Do not insult my intelligence,” she
snapped. “You have been sulking around here for weeks now and I want to know
why. Have I said something to offend you? Has Chris?”

     His hard stance softened a bit. “No,
Dustin, no one has offended me. There is nothing the matter, truly.”

     She sighed with frustration. “Marcus, I
thought you were my friend. You have always been excessively kind and sweet and
attentive, but lately it's as if I do not know you at all. You are not the same
man I have come to know and love.”

     He blinked at her. “Love?”

     She flipped her hand in a careless gesture.
“Yes, of course, as my friend. Won't you please tell me what is bothering you?
I do not like seeing you like this.”

     He could see she was genuinely concerned
and felt his guard go down. For her, and only her, would it go down.

     “Truly, Dustin, there's nothing wrong, at
least nothing that can be solved,” he said softly.

     “What is it?” she begged softly. “Will you
please tell me?”

     She moved towards her as he shook his head.
God, he had been fighting his feelings for her ever since he met her and when
he found out she was with child, it was as if a white-hot blade had been thrust
through his heart. It had only gotten worse with time. The happier Dustin and
Christopher were, the more distressed he became. He knew his attitude had
reflected his feelings, but he simply could not help himself. He loved her and
probably always would, and would have given twenty years of his life if the
child in her womb could have been his.

     He put his big hands on her arms in a
reassuring gesture. “There is nothing to tell, Lady de Lohr. But I appreciate
your concern.”

     Dustin touched his hand, the hand that was
slowly coming back to strength. “I am not as naive as you think, Marcus. I know
a great deal, or at least I sense it.” She pulled his hand off her arm and held
it between them. “This is a good example - I know you injured your own hand,
although I do not know why, but I suspect I had something to do with it. You
lied to me.”

     His black brows drew together. “When? I
would never lie to you.”

     She smiled faintly. “You are right now,”
she murmured. “You told me that your infatuation would pass. It hasn't, has it?
And now you are angry with me because of it.”

     He gripped her hand in his healing one. “I
am not angry with you, Dustin.” He felt his composure slipping. It was a dark,
quiet, lonely hall, who would hear his words except her? It was suddenly as if
he had to confess and get all of the bleak feelings out of his soul. Mayhap if
she knew the truth, if he could put his emotions into words, then he could gain
much-needed relief. As he struggled to say something, she spoke softly.