Bessie

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Bessie Page 32

by Jackie Ivie


  “Here, you go, Bess. I hope I’ve not dirtied your gown overmuch.”

  “You’ve been wonderful, Will. Where do I go now?”

  “It’s just on the other side of this shield. Most of the entrances are disguised behind wall hangings, of one kind or another. Here. Look for yourself.”

  He pointed to a little dot of light at his shoulder. She’d seen the same specks of light throughout the corridors they’d been in. She suspected what they were as they’d passed them. It was an uncomfortable thought to know she’d been right.

  She peeked into the hole. There wasn’t a large scope on the room, but it was enough. Will had been right earlier. With such a secret, he really could probably access and spy on any chamber in the estate.

  The height of the spy-hole was exactly the right size for Bess. There was a large bedstead set against the opposite wall, a table, a stool. An armoire on one wall. There wasn’t any sign of Devon, unless she counted the plumed helmet and large broadsword on the end of the bed.

  “Are you certain this is the one?” she whispered.

  “Did I look unsure as I brought you here? Of course this is the right one. I could pinpoint any chamber for you from memory. What do you think I’ve been doing at the Hall since you sent me?”

  “I can pretty much guess. I don’t see Devon, though.”

  “He’s there. He’s just out of sight. He has himself locked in. He thinks that works. Watch this.”

  He touched a catch somewhere on the metal shield and it swung outward. The room was dim. Two candles were burning on a stand beside the bed. There must be some sort of outdoor access. Not only was light streaming into one area, but she could hear muted sounds of the fest. Bess turned and kissed Will’s cheek.

  “Thank you.”

  He put a finger to his lip and then grasped her waist to lower her to the floor.

  “I cannot stay. I’ve got an appointment with Queen Elizabeth, you know.”

  The shield swung shut without a sound. Bessie regarded it with consternation for a moment. She wasn’t going to look at ornamental wall arrangements the same way in the future. And then, she turned.

  She was in one of the turrets. Stansbury Hall had eight of them. They were rarely used, unless the queen brought her court to visit. Then, every available nook was converted to use. There wasn’t a fireplace in this one. The turret’s round shape had been divided into two chambers. One held the sleeping area. The other was still unseen. Bessie tip-toed toward the archway separating the turret and held to the framework for a moment.

  She’d rehearsed everything she was going to say and did it yet again. Then, she peeked around the opening. This section of the turret was much smaller. It had an oriel, open to the night sky. Devon was standing in the balcony, leaning on the railing. He wasn’t watching anything, though. He had his head in his hands.

  That position raised his attire at the back. Bessie tipped her head for a bit and just absorbed the sight. Devon was wearing a short red tunic beneath a gilded breastplate that probably matched his exact dimensions. The tunic had cap sleeves, leaving his arms bare. Muscled. Defined. He had sandals on his feet. They were laced to his knees. His legs were bare. He was massive. And impressive. He hadn’t been anywhere near the parade grounds or the castle yard. It would have been impossible to mistake him, even given the competition. She pulled in a breath, swallowed about her nervousness, and still she stammered on his name.

  “D-Devon?”

  He spun around, and made a choking noise at the same time. Green eyes touched on hers before looking to the floor at his feet. Bessie used the time to move across the floor, reaching the juncture of oriel to castle wall before he answered.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked the floor.

  “I have been looking for you.”

  “Blast and damn that Will! My brothers all betray me.”

  Bessie took a tentative step toward him and then another. Devon didn’t move.

  “You cannot hide forever,” she said.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “We don’t have to pretend any longer, Devon. You know it’s me. It always has been.”

  “And I repeat. You shouldn’t be here. Unaccompanied. It’s not acceptable.”

  “Look at me, Devon.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Bessie stepped into the oriel. The large wooden slat-work balcony was small. Insubstantial-looking. Devon was taking up most of it. She wondered if it would hold their combined weight.

  “Can you give me nothing?”

  “I’ll give you the world, my love. Just ask it.”

  “Oh, God.”

  It wasn’t an oath. More of a plea. Bessie stared as he put a hand over his eyes and started shaking.

  “Don’t ask Him for something He can’t give you, Devon. He’s already granting my prayers.”

  He took another deep breath and the metal shield on his chest rose and fell with the motion. Then, he removed the hand and looked at her. She’d thought his eyes cold the day they’d wed. She’d been a fool. They were like looking at green ice, and just as unemotional.

  “Very well. Have your say and go. It’s what you’re here for.”

  Bessie put out a hand uncertainly. “Devon—”

  “Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me again.”

  She needn’t have worried over the balcony holding them both. Devon strode from it with large steps. Bessie lifted her skirts and chased after him. He went from the comparative brightness of the outer room to his bedchamber. With only two candles for light. They were sputtering. As if in concert with Bessie’s efforts.

  “I suppose you used your wiles on Will to get him to bring you. I don’t fault him for it. I blame you. You’re very enticing, as I’ve seen firsthand. James didn’t stand a chance.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I was right the first time, I think. You are a witch. And you need to leave. Go back the way you came.”

  “I can’t.” She tentatively smiled. “I’ll get lost.”

  “So? Get yourself lost. It’s fitting. Perhaps you’ll not lead anyone else to their ruin that way.”

  “Who have I led to ruin?”

  “Very well. I will do the departing. I have a masquerade to attend. If you wish to stay here, do so. I won’t stop you.”

  “Wait! Devon!”

  She reached him as he grabbed up his sword. He tossed her hand off as if it were nothing.

  “You’ve ruined me, for one. And worse. You split my family asunder. Anything else I could have forgiven. I should have chosen the Tower, damn me.” His shoulders sagged. “Go away. I’m not allowing you near me, anymore. I just wish I could keep you from the entire family.”

  “Please...don’t say that.”

  “Why not? You are the one standing in my chamber. I did not ask for you, I do not wish to see you, and I do not need you. See there? You have nothing I want. Now go, before I say something I really regret.”

  If he said another word, he’d know how badly he was paining her. Bessie had never felt anything like it. Her throat was throbbing with holding in the agony and every time her heart beat, it felt like it was going to lunge from her bodice to die bloodlessly on the blue-green satin bodice her hands were clasped against.

  “I love you, Devon,” Bessie whispered.

  His jaw tightened. It was the only sign that he’d heard. Bessie held her breath and watched as he strapped the sword in its scabbard onto his belt.

  “Didn’t...you hear me?”

  “Well enough. I just don’t have to stay and listen.”

  “Please don’t leave.”

  “There’s a masquerade taking place in the grounds below. With women a-plenty. Fresh women. Honest women. The kind who don’t hide behind weeds and words and lies and deceit.”

  “I love you, Devon.” Emotion stained her voice. She knew he heard it. “I have since we wed. I didn’t know then why the queen forced us, but I do now.
She wants us to be—”

  “You are wrong. We are not wed any longer. I had Her Majesty annul it this morn. You’re a free woman. Not a moment too soon, either.”

  “I love you, Devon.”

  “Stop saying that!”

  “I can’t help it! I did everything because of that, and...I was stupid. I know it now, but I did it because I love you.” The last words were whispered.

  The muscles in his arms were bunching and clenching before her eyes. Bessie reached to touch him and then stopped. She waited another moment and then pulled her hand back to clutch it to the one at her bosom again.

  “I’ve had a gullet-full of your lies. I’ve spent too much time trying to get through them. And now I find I don’t care, anymore.”

  “Yes, you do. You care. I know you do.”

  “How do you know anything?”

  He’d finished strapping on his sword and turned back to her as he asked it. She couldn’t tell if he was looking at her, though. The light was too dim.

  “Because I love you. It makes it a simple matter. I know everything about you.”

  “If you know anything, it’s because you’re a witch. A beautiful, warm, enticing one...but a witch, nonetheless. Pardon my lack of manners, as I said. I’ve a fest to attend.”

  “Don’t walk out on me, Devon Hildebrand. You are my husband.”

  “We’re not wed, anymore, remember?”

  His voice cracked. It matched his emotion. Bessie knew because she’d reached out, put a hand on his breast place, and just held it there. She may have been trembling, but it was far shy of his reaction. His shaking moved her hand with it.

  “You have a marriage to consummate and babes to create. You’ve been telling me how well you do it. I’m not convinced. I will need more proof.”

  “Don’t shame yourself further.”

  He was gritting the words through his teeth, or they’d have hurt more. That was naïve. They sent daggers of pain shooting through her, regardless of how he said them.

  “Devon, please. Listen to me! I love you!”

  “You don’t know the meaning of the word. People who love do not play with emotions like you do. They don’t confuse and confound and tease...and they don’t betray!”

  “I am so sorry I played at being the servant maid. I didn’t know what I was doing! I should have told you the truth at the beginning.”

  “Yes. You should have.” He donned his red-plumed helmet with one hand and regarded her. The helmet shaded his face. She couldn’t tell his expression. “Or shortly thereafter. You need to find out something, Bessie. Or maybe it’s too late for you. I don’t know. And I do not care. But you need to know something about love. You may not have been around it, but that’s no excuse.”

  “Devon, please?”

  “I am not finished. You see...love is the most beautiful thing in the world. I have it. I was raised in a family full of it. Love is...oh, what can I say? How can I explain to someone who’s never felt it? It’s the feeling I get when I hold Lizzie. It was there from her birth, when I realized I was responsible. For all of them. That is true love, Bessie. It is not something you can turn on and off as if it were a spigot atop a keg. Nor is it something you can buy. There is not enough gold. It’s just there. Often it strikes with lightning swiftness. And sometimes, it never happens at all. And now I find that love can also be a hellish emotion. If it’s played with long enough, even love can change...especially if it gets betrayed. I’m hoping in time, it may disappear. Do you understand yet?”

  “You don’t...love me?”

  “Now. Stand aside and let me pass.”

  “Please don’t leave me. Please?” Her plea was garbled even to her own ears.

  “Give me one reason why. Just one.”

  “I love—”

  He cut her off. “Aside from that one. We both know you haven’t any grasp of the word.” His voice carried disgust. Revulsion. The emotions were palpable. Almost physical. She’d never dealt with such a thing. Her next words were stammered. Unsure.

  “I didn’t...know you. I thought terrible things of you. I thought you...heartless. Soulless. A knave...who would deceive his queen.”

  He tilted his head. She couldn’t tell his expression. If it was as grim as his voice, she didn’t want to see it. The plume atop his helmet wavered.

  “Is this some new...game?”

  Bessie shook her head. “I was led to believe you exchanged...love notes with...L-l-lady Bryant.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Lady who?”

  Bessie swallowed around a bubble of misguided mirth. He’d been so innocent of it all! “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except that you don’t leave me! Please, Devon? I am so sorry.”

  “And how I wish I could believe that.”

  “You...don’t believe me?”

  “Why should I?”

  That hurt, too. Bessie turned aside and bit at her lip. Took a deep breath for bravery, and turned back to him. “You spoke...of b-b-betrayal. I have never done so. I swear it.”

  He leaned down, his face coming into complete candlelit view. He’d twisted his features. He was almost grotesque. Ugly. She wouldn’t have believed it possible if she wasn’t watching it.

  “You betrayed me last night, Elizabeth Stansbury.”

  “Last...night?”

  “You warmed another man’s bed. All night. I know. I assumed it was James. I have been so angered. So jealous. Almost murderous. Of my own brother! And now...I am uncertain about anything. It could have been a workman for all I know. And that thought really destroys me.”

  Bessie’s lips tilted into a tight smile. It was the best she could manage. Each blink brought tears into existence, blurring his image.

  “You’re right, Devon. I was warming a man’s bed last night...but it was no betrayal.”

  He grabbed her upper arms. Lifted her. Bessie dangled while they both shook. The snarl on his face was absolutely terrifying.

  “Must everything be a play of words with you?”

  “Wait! Wait! Please, Devon! Forgive me! I was in your bed last night! Yours!”

  Everything stopped. Sound. Her heart. Her breathing. Her body was still shaking. Because of him, and the hold he had on her.

  “You were in my bed?”

  She nodded. She was losing the battle against something vast. Uncontrollable. Completely embarrassing. Tears were obscuring him. A heated wave rose through her, overtaking her belly. Consuming her chest. Rising through her throat. Hammering at her eyes. She’d never dealt with this before. And nothing worked at stemming it.

  “My bed?”

  He sounded strange. Bessie couldn’t tell for certain.

  “I was told it would...solve all my problems. But it didn’t! It made them worse!”

  This was horrendous. Appalling. As if a dam had burst somewhere inside her. No matter how she struggled, hard waves of emotion grew larger, crested, and then overwhelmed. She answered, but it was nearly incoherent through the sobs. “I was there...all...night. And for what? You don’t want to be married to me anymore! You don’t think I know what love is. My heart feels like a sword has been thrust through it! And how I wish that was true! I just want...to die!”

  For the first time in her existence Bessie lost control. She was broken. Devastated. And nothing else was of any consequence. She lifted her hands, covered her face, and sobbed with abandonment. She was in a whorl of nothing but darkness. It was infinite and vast and completely barren.

  “Bessie.”

  Her sobs worsened at the sound of her name, spoken as if he cared. He felt closer, too. His breath brushed her ear. And then her arms smashed against the cool finish of his breastplate. Bessie shoved her forehead into the unforgiving metal and wept harder.

  “Stop this. You’ll make yourself ill.”

  She took a breath. Caught a sob. Words came out with it. “What does...that matter? I have lost everything!”

  Several moments passed while she wept unabated. That seeme
d to be the only sound in the world. Then another sound intruded, one that resembled crooning. Devon shifted her, moving one arm beneath her buttocks to support her. His other hand slid up her arm. Went beneath her chin. Lifted it away from her hands. To face him. Bessie had no choice. She inhaled a breath and held it until her chest was a knot of agony. She let it out slowly, and then she started sniffing. Over and over. She kept her eyes tightly shut the entire time.

  “Please don’t leave me, Devon,” she whispered.

  “Leave you?” His voice was loud. Joyous-sounding. His arm tightened about her. “I have been in an agony of black all day. You cannot imagine. I did not know the depths of pain a soul can reach. Abide in. And still continue living. Nor, the avenues it will take for escape.”

  Oh my. Byron was definitely not the lone poet in the family. Bessie caught a breath in awe. And an excruciating sense of hope.

  “Wh-wh-what?” The word was stammered. Barely audible.

  “I am not going anywhere.”

  “You aren’t?”

  “No.”

  Bessie opened her eyes. Met his gaze. His emerald eyes were blazing like green fire; lit from within by something ethereal. She’d never seen anything as exquisite. Her heart responded with a hard thump that almost hurt.

  “I don’t...understand.”

  “I must have been playing this game of yours for too long. I made a bad move. Went down a dark path. And now? I cannot describe it. I feel like I have just been freed from a prison of despair. And then I find it was one of my own making!”

  “You mean...you might...still care for me? Maybe a little?”

  “Oh, Bessie. My love. My little love. I have been told I am very good at hiding feelings. It must be true. That came in very handy today, because I have done everything possible to stop loving you. I spent hours making certain I could face you and the rest of the world without revealing just how much I love you. The best I could manage was to hide.”

  “You...were hiding?”

  He tipped his head back and howled. Then he started laughing. And then he was rotating about, spinning them dizzyingly. She was open-mouthed and wide-eyed when he finally stopped, took a deep breath, and then looked back down at her.

 

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