Fearsome Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Where did you get that black eye?” she asked.

  Nikolas didn’t falter although Philip, next to him, fought off a smirk. “In the struggle with Lady de Winter earlier today, my lady,” he replied steadily.

  “Did she strike you?”

  “Not with her fists, my lady,” he replied. “She hit me with the leg of a chair.”

  Lady Katharine’s eyes narrowed at the injury and she unfortunately caught a glimpse of Philip; his nose was swollen and purple. She jabbed a gnarled finger at him.

  “And what happened to you?” she demanded.

  Philip’s smirk was gone and he cleared his throat softly. “A door to the nose, my lady.”

  “Lady Devereux?”

  “Aye, my lady.”

  Lady Katharine shook her head. “God’s Blood,” she breathed. “I have never heard of such nonsense.”

  Hugh stood next to his mother, still feeling the sting of embarrassment and inadequacy from earlier in the day when they had all failed to charm, or subdue, Lady Devereux. Davyss’ collection of knights were some of the most powerful warriors in the court of King Henry the Third but they had failed to effectively restrain one very small lady. It was a shameful display that they hoped would never become public knowledge.

  The carriage carrying Lady Katharine moved from the gatehouse towards the massive lower bailey beyond. At sunset, the smells of cooking fires and roasting meat were heavy in the air. Hugh rode beside the carriage astride his big bay charger.

  “All that is in the past, Mother,” he assured her. “She surely understands her place now.”

  Lady Katharine cast him a long look. “What makes you say this?”

  “Because she has been confined to her chamber since arriving here earlier today,” he replied. “Davyss spent a good deal of time with her earlier. I am sure he explained things to her.”

  “Where is your brother now?”

  “In the hall.”

  “And how is your brother’s mood since his undoubtedly productive discussion with Lady Devereux this afternoon?”

  Hugh looked at her; he resembled his mother a good deal with his dark eyes and angular face. “Why do you ask?”

  “I am curious. Answer me.”

  Hugh shrugged as they passed into the vast bailey with its collection of cooking fires and scent of men and animals. “He seems well enough.”

  Lady Katharine didn’t say any more as the carriage neared the great all, a massive thing planted in the middle of the lower bailey. Its stone walls soared skyward and the roof was sharply angled, covered with a matting of pitch and sod. The enormously long lancet windows cast bright streams of light into the darkened bailey, the result of a massive fire in a hearth that could have easily fit ten men inside it. Hugh helped his mother disembark and escorted her into the hall. Her severely wimpled ladies, three of them, followed close behind.

  There was one very big table near the hearth, large enough for fifty men. Servants moved around the room, lighting tapers and bringing food to the table. The hall itself was spartanly furnished with a cluttered dirt floor and dogs huddled in the corners. It smelled almost as bad as the bailey outside. Davyss was sitting facing the door when his mother and brother entered. He watched his mother come near, his expression unreadable, and took a long drink of his wine.

  Lady Katharine reached the table and was helped to sit by Hugh and Nikolas. The bench was dusty, with bits of old food on it, and they brushed it off for her. Nikolas took her cane and leaned it against the hearth as Lady Katharine’s women took position behind her; never would they dare sit in her presence.

  Katharine watched her eldest closely; there was something about his expression that had her curious as well as concerned. The man seemed to have difficulty holding her gaze which was unlike him. Davyss was, if nothing else, fearless and confident. He always looked people in the eye because he believed you could tell a good deal about what they were thinking simply by the countenance of their eyes. Were she to use her son’s logic, his thoughts were not good.

  “Davyss,” she accepted a cup of wine from one of her women. “You did not greet me at the gate.”

  Davyss eyed his mother. “My apologies.”

  He didn’t sound as if he meant it but she let it go. “Where is your wife?” his mother asked. “I have traveled a great distance to spend time with her.”

  Something in Davyss’ eyes darkened; Lady Katharine saw it. After a moment of holding her gaze, he averted his eyes and took another swallow of wine.

  “In her chamber, I would presume.”

  “You do not know?”

  He looked at his mother then. “I left her there some time ago. She was there when I left.”

  Lady Katharine was growing edgy at her son’s evasive manner. She smacked the table and demanded her cane, which was brought to her by one of her cowering women. Cane in hand, she rose stiffly.

  “Davyss,” she said firmly. “You will attend me.”

  Davyss knew better than to argue, although he was fairly drunk and in no mood for his mother’s imperious manner. He knew what was coming. Still, he did as he was told; slamming his cup to the table, he went to his mother and gently took her elbow. He led her from the hall, out into the starlit night beyond.

  The bailey was muddy with excrement, a stark contrast to the crisp and pure sky above. Lady Katharine was unsteady on her feet and the uneven walking surface nearly toppled her, so Davyss swung his mother into his powerful arms and carried her across the muck.

  “Where did you wish to go?” he asked.

  “Take me to your wife.”

  Somewhere low in his throat, he growled. Lady Katharine’s eyes narrowed at her boy.

  “What has happened, Davyss?” she asked, although there was no true force behind it. “Why is she not down in the hall?”

  Davyss was not in a chatting mood and he didn’t feel like answering foolish questions. He would not look his mother in the eye as he headed for the distant, lonely keep.

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

  She smacked him on the shoulder. “You know very well what I mean. Where is your wife and what has happened since you and I spoke at Breckland? Did you not speak to the woman and try to reconcile your rough beginning?”

  He didn’t answer until they reached a portion of the bailey that was hard-packed earth. Gently, he set his mother to her feet. Before them loomed the motte and keep, stretching long and dark against the starry sky. Instead of escorting her forward, he simply stood there. Lady Katharine sensed great turmoil but waited patiently for him to speak. She was, in truth, surprised to see him so agitated, an unusual condition for the usually-cool man.

  “If you must know, I fear that I have irrevocably damaged whatever chance Lady Devereux and I had of having an agreeable marriage,” he finally said.

  “What did you do?”

  Davyss looked at his mother, realizing that he was embarrassed to tell her. But he knew he could not avoid it. He averted his gaze, taking a deep breath as he tried to delicately phrase the situation.

  “I consummated the marriage,” he told her. “It was not… pleasant.”

  Lady Katharine lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  He grunted, scratching his neck in a nervous gesture. “I took her by force.”

  Lady Katharine’s dark eyes cooled dramatically. “You raped her.”

  He shook his head. “Nay, not in the true sense,” he said. “I thought… I thought we were of one mind at the time. I thought she was agreeable but I realized that… I did not even realize she was resisting me until after it was over. It never occurred to me that….”

  He was having difficulty spitting it out and Lady Katharine’s attitude grew colder.

  “It never occurred to you that she could resist your charm and your wit because no woman ever has,” she moved closer to him, her dark eyes blazing. “Davyss, you are the greatest knight in the realm. Do not believe for one minute that I do not hear of your ever
y triumph and every exploit. I know of your fearlessness, your strength and your bravery. I also know that you have every woman at court mad for you. God knows how many bastards you have about; it makes me ill simply to think on it. But for all of your strength and skill and dashing good looks, you are a fool when it comes to women. Do you hear me? I have raised in idiot!”

  He took her scolding; nothing she said was untrue. He hung his head, unable to look her in the eye. Furious, she grabbed him by the chin and forced him to face her.

  “Did you hurt her?” she demanded.

  “Other than the obvious, I do not believe so.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I left her in the chamber on the second floor.”

  “And you have not talked to her since? Not even to see if she is well?”

  He tried to shake his head. “Nay,” he replied. “But I did send Lollardly to her with food and her trunks. He saw to her needs.”

  Lady Katharine’s features tightened and she dropped her hand. “You sent that lecherous drunk to see to your wife?”

  “I did.”

  “Did he speak to her?”

  “He brought her food and drink. Beyond that, I have not spoken with him further about her.”

  Lady Katharine’s dark eyes glittered; there was great displeasure in the dark and stormy depths, unusual for the woman who was much like her son in that she did not readily show emotion. Then she smacked him on his taut buttocks with her cane.

  “Get up there,” she growled. “Go to your wife and beg for her forgiveness. Make every effort to make amends because if you do not, so help me, you will not like my reaction. Is that clear?”

  He sighed heavily. “I doubt she wishes to see me. ’Twould be better if you went. Perhaps she would not be so hostile.”

  Lady Katharine’s eyebrows flew up. “If I…?” she sputtered. But, after a moment’s thought, she cooled. Perhaps he was right; perhaps she should be the ambassador for peace and beg forgiveness for her inept son. “Very well,” she agreed after a moment’s deliberation. “I shall see if I can make a masterpiece out of the mess you have created.”

  “I would be grateful.”

  “Would you really? I wonder.”

  He was properly, and genuinely, contrite. “I fear that I need your help, Mother.”

  “You have not needed my help since you were four years old.”

  “I need it now.”

  Lady Katharine shook her head and turned towards the towering keep. She could see a soft light at the top. “I would have done better to marry her to Hugh,” she growled. “What on earth was I thinking when I pledged this woman to you?”

  Davyss truly didn’t have an answer. For the first time in his life, he was doubting himself. His confidence had taken a tremendous hit since the moment he first laid eyes on the Lady Devereux Allington. On the battlefield, he was invincible, but where women were concerned, he apparently still had a good deal to learn. Everything was cloudy to that regard but he knew one thing; he deeply regretted what he had done. He’d spent the rest of the afternoon brooding on it and coming to the conclusion that he had more than likely ruined any chance of an amicable marriage. And he was deeply upset by it.

  He found himself reverting back to the original plan; he would leave his wife in Norfolk and return to London. She would bear his children and he would carry on his life at court as if they had never married. But even as he convinced himself of the proper course of action, the one thing he hadn’t gambled on was the fact that his new wife was extraordinarily lovely and intelligent. There was something very different about her and he wasn’t at all sure he wanted to be parted from her. As he watched his mother make her way into the keep, he found himself hoping she could right his wrong.

  A soft knock on the door roused Devereux from her dozing state. Seated in a crude wooden chair before the peat fire that Andrew had started for her, she was exhausted both physically and mentally. But at least the room was warm now and a mattress had been produced for the bed. Stuffed with fresh straw, it was covered with the linens that had been brought from her father’s house. They were linens that she and her mother had sewed together when she had been young. Her trunks were lined up neatly against the wall and Andrew had even had fresh rushes brought to the chamber. The room was far cozier than it had been hours earlier.

  The knock rapped a second time and Devereux rose, both anxious and defensive. The past several hours had done nothing to ease her devastation at what had happened with Davyss. If anything, her sense of desolation had deepened, ingraining itself into her heart. She wasn’t sure she could ever look at the man again and not think of what had happened. The worst part was, if she would admit it to herself, was the fact that for the most part, she had enjoyed it. Davyss had awakened a part of her she never knew to exist. She was deeply ashamed.

  “Who is it?” she asked as she drew near the door.

  “Lady Katharine,” came a voice from the other side. “May I enter?”

  Devereux well remembered her last conversation with the woman but there was no way she could avoid her. She bade her enter.

  “Aye,” she replied.

  The door opened and the frail old woman stepped through. On the landing outside, Devereux could see at least two soldiers guarding the door. They shut the panel as the old woman moved into the room. Devereux stood several feet away, gazing steadily at her, waiting for the lashing that was undoubtedly to come.

  But a lashing was not immediately forthcoming. Lady Katharine faced her new daughter, inspecting the woman in the firelight; she was clad in the heavy white woolen shift with the belled sleeves and gold tassels hanging from the cuffs. The shift was more of a heavy surcoat than an actual shift, with a stiff collar around the neck and a plunging neckline with gold embroidery around it. It was, in truth, an exquisite garment, made more exquisite by Devereux’s beauty. Lady Katharine sighed with satisfaction.

  “My husband brought me that coat all the way from Rome,” she indicated the off-white garment. “It never looked so good on me.”

  Off-guard with the compliment, Devereux looked down at herself as if confused by the woman’s observations. After Davyss had left and she had pulled herself together, she had dressed in the warm garment simply because the room was cold. She had then pulled her silky hair into a single thick braid, tied at the end with a golden scarf. She had no idea how angelic and radiant she looked.

  “This belongs to you?” she smoothed her hands over the feather-soft wool. “Your son gave it to me as a gift. I was unaware that it was yours.”

  The old woman waved her hand. “I told him to give to it to you. It was made for you.”

  Devereux didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t feeling particularly amiable towards any member of the de Winter family at the moment but she would not forget her manners. She indicated the chair to Lady Katharine.

  “Would you sit, my lady?” she said.

  Lady Katharine made her way to the chair and sat heavily. Her gaze moved over the room, the fire, the over-stuffed mattress before finally coming to rest on Devereux again. Her dark eyes were piercing as she appraised her and it was a struggle for Devereux not to back away. She met the woman’s gaze steadily.

  “How may I be of service, my lady?” Devereux asked.

  Lady Katharine’s attention remained steady. “I understand you and my son experienced some conflict this afternoon. I am here to see if I can assist.”

  Devereux’s brow furrowed slightly. “Did he send you?”

  The old woman shifted slightly. “He did.”

  Devereux’s silver eyes regarded the woman a moment. She was careful in her reply. “Lady Katharine, surely you realize that this marriage is not palatable for your son or for me,” she said. “Why, exactly, did he send you?”

  “To see if I could ease your anger towards him.”

  Devereux pondered that a moment; so he feared that she was angry with him? Odd, he didn’t seem the type. He seemed more like the kind who didn’
t care what anyone thought. Still, she was deeply confused and deeply hurt by the events of the afternoon. She turned away from the woman and moved towards the hearth, feeling the soft heat on her skin.

  “What I feel is not anger, my lady,” she said. “He is my husband. He had every right to take what belonged to him. For this, I cannot fault him.”

  “But you are upset.”

  She suddenly looked at the woman, sharply. “I want to go home,” she hissed. “I was abducted from my home by four monstrous knights, married to a sword and forced into submission by my husband in a brutal act of consummation. Today I have endured more than any woman can be expected to reasonably endure. As I told you earlier today, I do not want to marry your son but it is done. Now I am his wife whether or not I want to be. He has consummated the marriage and we have done our duty. Now allow me to go home in peace while my husband returns to London and the intrigue that infects it. I want no part of it. I simply want to go home.”

  Her last words were spoken on the verge of tears and Lady Katharine watched her turn away. The old woman had to admit that the lady had had a rough day. She did indeed feel pity for her.

  “I am sorry that you have had such a difficult time,” she replied evenly. “But you were not innocent in all of this. You fought like a banshee which is why the knights were forced to take steps to restrain you. I have seen Sir Nikolas’ black eye and Sir Philip’s bruised nose. I did not imagine those injuries, perpetrated by you.”

  “I was defending myself.”

  “Against what?”

  “Against men determined to abduct me.”

  “They were not determined to abduct you. They had come to take you to your husband and you started the battle. The abduction was a direct result of your violent behavior.”

  She looked at Lady Katharine angrily. “Do you condone their behavior, then?”

  “I certainly do not condone yours. Think carefully before you accuse others of misdeeds, lady. You started it.”

  Devereux could see that she wasn’t gaining much sympathy. Infuriated and hurt, she refused to look at Lady Katharine.

  “I want to go home,” she whispered again. “I do not want to be a part of this life. I do not want to be a part of the de Winter war machine.”