by Jackie Ivie
He stiffened. Bessie consciously kept from tightening her fingers on his arm. He might think it a caress. So, instead she launched into her assessment.
“The shutters are ill-fitting. They haven’t been replaced in some time. Or they were hewn in haste. Furthermore, most homes have glass in their windows. It’s readily available. I used it freely at Crump and the Twin Keeps. And not all of it was leaded panes of stained glass.”
She glanced upward for his reaction. Other than a slight lifting of one eyebrow, there wasn’t one. She returned to watching the rug before them. It was washed-out and colorless. Almost threadbare.
“Glass is expensive,” he finally answered.
“As I already mentioned an assumption of lack of funds expended on construction, I’m gratified to hear it supported.”
“Anything else?”
“There was no effort to smooth over the stone. Bulging, rough stonework is acceptable on outer walls. For inner walls to have the same is usually a sign of hasty construction.”
“Bulging stonework? Where?”
She stopped. Gestured with her free arm. “Where? Everywhere. Look at the tapestries lining this hall. See how the fabric hangs in spots, and how some of the weave is distorted? Both are due to weakened areas that have been brushing against rough stone walls. And that’s apparent even before I consider the condition of your hangings.”
“The condition?”
“I’ve rarely seen tapestries in worse shape. Nigh every one we’ve passed is riddled with holes. As your castle was built two, maybe three scores ago, age cannot be the lone cause. That points to a possible infestation of vermin. That sort of thing is likely due to poorly-fitted shutters. Lack of glass. Aside from all that, the tapestries were done with inferior linen. The weave isn’t tight. They probably sagged from the moment they were mounted.”
“Oh.”
“Not to worry, Hildebrand. I look forward to correcting all of it. You will not allow an annulment? Very well. Accept that I will not allow such conditions to persist in any estate I oversee.”
“As we’re speaking complete nonsense, might I ask how you purport to do that? My winnings won’t last a sennight at the rate you wish it spent.”
“It will not take a shilling from your pocket. I’ve an entire roomful of tapestries at Stansbury. Why, I’ve only to say the word and they’ll be sent over.”
“Of course you do.”
“You don’t believe me? Still?”
“Of course not. But I am curious. Is there anything about my home that meets your approval?”
“My critique...bothers you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Your arm moved beneath my fingers.”
Curse her stupidity in answering that!
“Like this?”
He rotated something in his arm again. Her fingers tingled. She almost lifted her hand. “If you wish to continue this escort, Lord Hildebrand, you’ll not do that again.”
“I rather like your dress. It shows emotion your voice tries to hide. Wear it again.”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
He lifted his free hand, and pointed upward with his index finger. “Ah. Wait now. I specifically heard you swear to it at the ceremony.”
“I don’t recall much of it, I’m afraid.”
“There is an obedience part. Trust me. I heard it. Besides, you should have the entire thing memorized by now.”
He did something with the arm she held again. Bessie’s lips thinned. “I already told you not to do that, Devon. I’ll not hold to you. I won’t.”
“I look forward to your reaction later tonight, then. Much later. If you think this stirring, wait until you see what I’m capable of without the restriction of clothing.”
Her hand lifted as if it had been scorched. It matched the rest of her. Her reply was gasped. Shocked. And slightly choked-sounding. All of which should have horrified her. “I never mentioned the word stirring. I would never put such an inference on...it. I wouldn’t. Truly.”
“I look forward to putting that avowal to the test.”
“I will not welcome you to my bed, Hildebrand.”
“Do you wear this accursed piece of linen when you sleep?”
“Wh—at?”
“I am your husband, Bess. I have the right to your chamber. And your bed. And I truly like this particular dress of yours. Have more designed. Use this wealth you claim.”
Bessie was agape. She knew exactly what he was referring to, especially as he glanced to her bosom. She couldn’t hide the blush that reached even there. She should have worn the bed linens.
“I am also partial to garters. Yours, especially.”
“But—. No. I—. You—.”
She couldn’t even form an answer. Everything was stammered and unfinished. It was completely out-of-character and totally annoying.
“We’ve been wed for days now, Bess. We need to consummate it. And before you say it, I will. I know. ’Tis my own fault. I shunned you on our wedding night. I have no excuse to offer. But, come now. You should allow a man to change.”
Her heart stopped. “Change? Oh. No. No. This won’t do at all.”
Both his eyebrows rose. Bessie quickly looked away. She didn’t dare meet his gaze. She might do something stupid, like rip the veil from her head and launch herself into his arms. If only she could trust him! If only he hadn’t sworn to her that he’d been faithful! If only she didn’t know that for a lie! If only she’d listened to Roberta! If only she hadn’t play-acted like a village wench!
If only—
Why was she ruing it? She’d spent a night of misery over it already. For all she knew, his words of change were another lie. Bessie caught her lower lip within her teeth and looked at a nondescript length of material that was masquerading as a tapestry on the opposite side of the hall.
“I am not certain I wish to play the part you are assigning to me.”
He spoke so softly, she wasn’t at all certain she heard it. She had to do something. Alter the circumstance. Change the moment. Or she’d be forced to hear another declaration. He’d probably swear to this one as well. Bessie took a deep breath. Gathered her wits. Found her calm, collected voice. And manage to answer him.
“Isn’t your family waiting our arrival? For one sent to fetch me...you have a strange lack of purpose.”
“You are changing the subject? Why? Afraid?”
Bessie’s voice trembled as she answered, but it was still calm. “Give me your arm again, and cease this foolishness.”
“I wasn’t the one who stopped.”
“Next time, you should send James.”
“That won’t do, I’m afraid. I have no need of competition for your affections.”
“What?”
The absurdity stole her voice. If only she didn’t know the extent of his false nature, she’d give sound to the joy brimming at the back of throat, the rush of emotion filling her chest. The stab of tears at her eyes. The restriction about her belly.
And he acted completely immune to all of it.
“I know my value in this world, Bess. If I hadn’t, my time at court made certain I knew. The Hildebrand family is known for comeliness. My face truly is my fortune. That, and my frame.”
“Uh...”
“Some call it arrogance. I suppose it fits. But I cannot hide from facts, can I? I am a handsome man. I’m also fit. Able. The ladies seem to like all of that. There are few men who compare favorably. James is one of them. Byron is another. Henry and Will, the third and fourth.”
“Your brothers?”
“Yes.”
“All...of your brothers resemble you?”
“You’ve already seen James.”
“Well. My. This should bode well when setting up their betrothals.”
“Betrothals? Who would wed a Hildebrand? We’re crushingly poor. I just told you. We’ve nothing save comeliness to offer. I was hoping to alter that...which is why I went to court.”
“Devon. I am an heiress. You have succeeded.”
“Oh yes. I keep forgetting. You’re the owner of three estates.”
“Four, if you count Stansbury.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve enough for a dower for my sisters?”
“Your sisters are not betrothed, either?”
“Gold is scarce to the Hildebrands. As was land, until Her Majesty lorded me. I suppose I could section off some of my marsh for my sisters. Have you knowledge of any suitor? One that would be satisfied with so little?”
“Are your sisters beautiful?”
The look he gave her spoke for him. She shouldn’t have had to ask.
“They are Hildebrands, darling.”
“I’ve already requested you to spare the endearments.”
“As you also asked me to save them for my other women, and there aren’t any, I believe I’ll take my punishment now. What are you planning on doing?”
Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. The amused expression on his face silenced her, as did the pursed lips, the slant of his eyes as he waited, and the way he folded his arms in front of him. Bessie had never seen anything like him. Devon had no comparison, no matter how many brothers he had. He probably knew it, too. Most likely he’d said the words to make certain she wasn’t at risk of forgetting it.
“There you are! We were about to come and find you. Devon! Is this your wife? Is she pretty?”
The girl who barreled into Devon was a surprise. She was probably no more than ten, but possessed all of Devon’s beauty and more, if that were possible.
“Foundling! I told you to wait with the others.” Devon tempered his words with an embrace as he lifted the girl into his arms.
“I missed you! You said you’d be right back, and then you take forever. What was I supposed to do? Be a good little girl?”
“Would it be so hard, darling?”
Bessie had to turn away. The look on Devon’s face was going to haunt her dreams. The sight of him hugging his sister was too much to bear. Bessie couldn’t remember ever having received one.
“Look there. You have embarrassed her with your lack of etiquette. It’s not correct to run about like a heathen.”
“Oh, dear. Put me down, then,” the girl whispered.
Bessie turned back and felt her heart twist at the crestfallen look on the girl’s face.
“You promise to exhibit proper behavior?”
Bessie interrupted him. “No, Devon. Don’t chastise her. Please?”
He frowned slightly toward her. Bessie moved her attention to his sister. The Hildebrands were tall. Bessie could see it, now. The girl might be no more than ten, but she was almost the same height as Bess.
“I’m known as Bessie. What is your name?”
“Why do they call you The Widow?”
“Lizzy!”
Devon had the grace to look uncomfortable. Bessie glanced at him and back to his sister. She was smiling. It sounded in her voice.
“Your name is Lizzy? It is a lovely name.”
“It is short for Elizabeth.”
‘That’s...nice.”
“Are you pretty?” the girl asked.
“To some.”
“Why do you wear that cover, then?”
“A widow wears this, Lizzy. It’s known as widow’s weeds.”
“Are you still a widow now that you’ve wed Devon?”
“Not yet. He is trying his utmost, though.”
Above the girl’s head, Bessie saw Devon’s quick smile. She ignored it.
“James says you are ugly. He also says you are fat. He says Devon is to be pitied for his bride. Is that true?”
“Lizzy!” This time, Devon choked on the name.
“Oh. I can see that we’ll be fast friends, Lizzy. I cannot wait to hear what else James says. Come. Escort me. Your brother won’t mind the loss of my company.”
Bessie held out her arm and Lizzy entwined hers with it.
“You are very small. Why would James say you are fat if it isn’t true?”
“We should ask Devon. Not right now, of course. We’ll just pretend he’s not there. That could be a good game, don’t you think?”
“Do you like games?” Lizzy asked her.
“More than you think,” Devon replied behind them.
“There are some games that are for play, and then there are games for other reasons. When you’re older, you’ll understand.”
“You talk strangely. Is it because you’re from the court? I heard you were the queen’s ward. Do you know her well? Do you get to sleep with her? Does she sleep? I heard tell she stays awake all night.”
The awe in the girl’s voice made Bess smile. “Perhaps your brother knows. He was her favorite courtier. Let’s ask him.”
Lizzy looked over her shoulder at Devon. Bess kept her eyes on the view directly in front of her.
“Does she?”
“My wife has it wrong, love. I was never invited into the queen’s bedchamber.”
“Oh.” The girl turned back to Bess. “What’s a ward?”
“Queen Elizabeth was my guardian. She had control over everything, from what I wore, to the men I married.”
“She must really love you to wed you to my brother then. Devon is the best, most handsome man alive. Don’t ask Regina, though. She dislikes him.”
“Really?”
“He cut off her lessons with the village tutor. He was a handsome sort, too, if you find men handsome. I don’t. Unless you’re speaking of Devon. He’s the most handsome, most wondrous—”
“Lizzy!”
Devon groaned on the name. Bessie stifled a chuckle.
“I begin to see why there aren’t any mirrors in his chamber. He has no need of them with you about.”
“Devon doesn’t like mirrors. Ask him. He thinks they make a person vain. I don’t know what that means. Olivia does. She has more mirrors in her rooms than any other place in the castle.”
“Olivia? Is she the oldest, then?”
“No. That is Alicia. She’s beautiful, too. Everybody says so. Do you think I’m beautiful?”
“I think the entire family has that issue.”
“What?”
Devon answered. “My wife says all of us are. That is what you’re saying, isn’t it, Bess dear?”
“I don’t accept lover-like terms from you, Devon. I will no longer answer if you use them.”
“Oh. How I look forward to testing that resolve.”
“What’s a resolve?” Lizzy asked.
“More games. She likes to play them. She’s very good at them, too.”
“Oh look, there’s James. I’d recognize him anywhere,” Bessie spoke up to divert them as they entered what had to be the great hall.
“No. That’s Henry.” Lizzy giggled.
Another copy of Devon moved from a nonchalant pose near the fireplace and approached.
“This is Henry?”
“At your service, dear lady.” He sketched a perfect bow.
“She is not fat,” Lizzy said.
“As I can see for myself. She’s actually quite diminutive.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a fancy word that means small.”
The woman who spoke from a settee took Bessie’s breath away. Nothing about the badly-fitted gown detracted from her amazing beauty. Even from across the room, Bess could see that her eyes were a muted shade of green and surrounded by lush black lashes. The waterfall of dark hair about her shoulders swayed like a curtain as she stood and shoved it aside.
“That’s Olivia,” Lizzy whispered.
Bessie tipped toward her and whispered back. “The one with the mirrors?”
The girl nodded.
“They’re a waste,” Bess replied.
Another woman approached and curtsied. She was almost an exact copy of Olivia and looked to be just shy of twenty. Bessie’s lips tightened. No one of such an age should be unmarried, especially a Hildebrand. There was no excuse for a
lack of betrothal offers.
None.
“Good eve, my lady. I’m Alicia. I hope everything at Hilde is to your comfort?”
“Oh. Hilde is everything I’d been told. And more.”
“I am not certain that’s a compliment,” Devon said from her side.
Bessie turned back to Lizzy. “Would you go to the kitchens and fetch me a drink, Lizzy? I have a few words for your brother.”
Alicia’s eyebrows rose, and Henry’s smile widened.
“I am not certain I like the tone of that, Bess, my love.”
“You’re going to like what I say less. Starting with your endearments. I believe I’ve spoken of them.”
“And I await your punishment, too.”
“I’ll...just set about seeing—I think I shall assist Lizzy.”
Alicia spoke before walking from them, leading Lizzy. Bess looked up at Henry. The man would be no slouch when it came to court life. It took only a few moments of silence before he nodded to Devon and excused himself from their vicinity, too.
“You’re frightening my family, love.”
“If we were alone, Hildebrand, I’d do more than frighten.”
“Really?”
“You should have arranged their futures years before. Years.”
“I told you they were a beautiful lot. Quite takes the breath away, doesn’t it? You are speechless.”
“Anyone would be speechless. Why haven’t you secured futures for them?”
“I was at court less than a year.”
“That’s no defense. You should have snatched bridegrooms the moment you arrived. All you had to do was bring one of your sisters. What did you wish for them? To be old spinsters?”
“I never quite thought on it before.”
“Well, you should have. You are exhibiting a selfish side. It’s inexcusable.”
“Years have a way of passing, Bess, especially when you are responsible for seeing meals put on the table and clothing on the backs of eight siblings. I did my best. I never thought of the future. I guess...I always thought it would take care of itself.”
Bessie’s anger evaporated. Devon looked contrite and something else. He looked thunderstruck. When troubadours spoke of love and giving one’s heart to another for keeping, they weren’t poetic enough. Her heart was giving her trouble again.
She reached out and touched his hand with hers. “The future did take care of itself, Devon. I am the queen’s ward. I have an entry into any family in the kingdom. It’s about time I used it. Looks like I’ve got marriages to arrange, alliances to create, and estates to settle.”