Davyss eyed Hugh, wallowing on the ground in semi-consciousness. “It does not matter,” he grumbled. “Come along; let us retire.”
Nik and Edmund had rushed to Hugh by this time, helping the man to his feet. Andrew stood with Lollardly as Davyss and Devereux walked slowly towards them; Davyss had his arm around his wife as if she could support his weight, wiping the blood from his nose.
“Are you sure you are all right, Davyss?” Andrew asked quietly. “Should I send the surgeon to your room?”
Davyss shook his head, almost knocking himself off balance. “Nay,” he muttered. “My wife will tend me.”
Devereux watched his face as he spoke; there was sadness and frustration and confusion in his manner. She could not fathom why; the entire event had been lightning-fast and frightening. In a new hall, in a new marriage, she was understandably distressed.
“Davyss, will you not speak with Hugh before we retire?” she asked softly. “Do not walk away from your brother angry. Speak rationally of your quarrel and settle it.”
Davyss wouldn’t even respond; he was emotionally as well as physically exhausted. But he did pause a moment, looking to Devereux before looking to his brother. Hugh was on his feet, barely, and glaring balefully at his brother through one good eye. The other was already swelling shut.
“You are mad,” Hugh hissed at him. “Mad and bewitched.”
Davyss twitched in his brother’s direction but this time, both Andrew and Devereux held him fast. Lollardly put himself in the precarious position between the two brothers, holding up his hands as if to push them away from each other.
“Hugh, you will curb your tongue,” he demanded of the younger man, then looked to Davyss. “Get out of here and let your brother cool down.”
Davyss’ jaw ticked as he glared at Hugh, ignoring the priest completely. “Do you understand why I punished you?”
Hugh gave him an expression that suggested he thought his brother was insane. “Nay,” he insisted strongly. “The only explanation is that you are mad.”
When Davyss spoke, it was through clenched teeth. “If you ever question my wishes again, I will deal you worse than what you received,” he lowered his voice to a growl. “I am the head of this family and this is my keep. You will not question my wishes, ever. And if you ever speak of my wife that way again, I will kill you.”
Hugh just stared at him. “Is that what this is about?” he looked truly stunned. “Because I called your wife a bitch?”
Davyss lurched again at his brother but Andrew threw himself in front of his liege, holding him fast with all his might. Edmund jumped in, inadvertently shoving Devereux out of the way as he moved to aid his brother. Devereux managed to scamper back to her husband, wedging herself between Andrew and Edmund, her small hands against Davyss’ chest. The brilliant gray eyes blazed up at him.
“Nay, Davyss,” she whispered firmly, an inkling of what was happening between the brothers sparking in her mind. “You will not hurt him. Let us retire for the evening.”
Davyss was staring at Hugh, an odd flicker to his eye. Nik and Edmund pulled Hugh from the hall, away from his volatile brother. Davyss just stood there, long after his brother was removed, before eventually sitting heavily on the cluttered table. Devereux whispered something to the priest, who disappeared for a few moments, soon returning with a bowl of steaming water and a rag. Devereux thanked the man.
She returned her attention to her husband; he was bleeding from his mouth and had a small cut above his eye that was streaming blood. She dipped the rag in the water and wiped carefully at his mouth, then his eye. Davyss watched her silently, the hazel eyes riveted to her face as she worked. Devereux did not look at him as she surveyed the damage.
“Well,” she sighed, fussing with the cut above his eye. “I do not believe I need to stitch this. It will heal well enough.”
Davyss didn’t respond; he was still looking at her. When the silence became excessive, she finally met his eye. He smiled weakly.
“Thank you, my lady,” he said softly. “Shall we finally retire? It has been a full day.”
He moved to get off the table but she grasped him, firmly but gently. “Davyss,” she whispered. “Whatever has occurred between you and your brother, it is none of my affair. But I will say this; no one person or one thing should come between you and your brother. He is your blood. Everything else is secondary.”
Davyss’ gentle expression faded. He could see that she wasn’t trying to pry or tell him how he should handle the situation; she was simply offering her opinion. He patted the hand resting on his arm.
“Although I appreciate your advice, you will understand when I say that I alone must make that determination,” he replied quietly. “For now, I am exhausted and wish to sleep.”
“Will you not speak with your brother first?”
“Nay.”
“But why?”
“That is between me and Hugh.”
He was firm and she did not argue further. But she knew, from words and actions that somehow she was at the root of the problem. Perhaps if she was the cause, then it was her duty to fix it. She felt oddly responsible. Just because Davyss would not speak with his brother did not mean that she couldn’t.
*
Waiting for Davyss to fall into a deep, snore-inducing sleep had been the hard part. He slept as a knight sleeps, very lightly, so even when he fell asleep, he wasn’t quite as unconscious as she had hoped. In truth, sleeping in the same bed as the man was an odd sensation; she’d slept alone her entire life. Now the bed was full of an enormous man who fidgeted constantly. But he eventually stilled, and when she stirred from the bed, he instantly awoke but she assured him that she was simply seeking the privy. He accepted her explanation and she waited until he fell back asleep before slipping from the dark chamber.
Since three massive chambers were linked in a row, she emerged from their chamber into the next one where Philip and Lucy slept. They were awake, however, quietly making love in their large bed in the far corner. Embarrassed at her intrusion, Devereux scooted into the next connecting room where Nik and Frances slept. They were both sound asleep on their respective sides of the bed.
Devereux hadn’t yet been shown around the complex so she truly had no idea where she was going to find Hugh. Descending the spiral staircase into the windowless bottom floor, it was very nearly pitch black but for a few lit sconces in the direction that led to the hall. She crept along the wall, finally emerging into the great hall that was lightless but for the chimney opening and a softly flickering fire. Several servants were sleeping near the fire and she tentatively approached one, nudging the man in the foot. On the fourth nudge, he awoke, saw who it was, and bolted to his feet.
She had the man take her to Hugh. She would have never found him otherwise. He was up in the odd-shaped tower, in a smaller chamber on the third floor. He wasn’t asleep, however; he answered the chamber door irritably, his eyes narrowing when he saw Devereux. As the servant scampered away, Hugh faced off against his brother’s wife, standing in the doorway as she stood on the landing.
He wasn’t pleased to see her; that was obvious. “What do you want?” he growled.
Devereux didn’t know Hugh at all; he’d made a point of staying away from her since their rough introduction and she didn’t blame him. She was suddenly uncertain as to why she had come at all, trying to apologize to this hostile stranger for something she didn’t fully understand. But she squared her shoulders and summoned her courage.
“I… I came to apologize,” she said softly. “Sir Hugh, I know we had a turbulent beginning and I suppose I am to blame. But your brother and I are married, like it or not, and we are coming to terms with it. In fact, we realize that this may be an amicable union. I am sorry if that offends or upsets you, but I am here tonight because you and Davyss and I will be family for the rest of our lives and I do not want bad blood between us. I would like to make amends.”
He just looked at her. “There are no amends to ma
ke,” he replied. “You and my brother may be married, but you and I are not. We have no relationship whatsoever. You are simply my brother’s wife.”
She was somewhat discouraged by his attitude but did not let it deter her. “You are correct,” she shrugged. “I do not know what I expected in coming here, but I simply wanted to speak with you to let you know that I am sorry for our rough beginning and I do not wish for our association to be hostile.”
Hugh’s gaze moved from her head to her toes and back again, in a manner that suggested he was bordering on disgust. “I have nothing to say to you,” he wiped at his nose. “Whatever you have done to my brother to convince him that you are worthy of being his wife is his business, but you’ll not use your same witchcraft on me. I have no regard for you.”
His words inflamed her and she fought to keep down her ready-temper; could the man truly be so cold? “As I have no regard for you,” she lowered her voice, the friendliness out of it. “I simply do not want you and your brother fighting because of me.”
“Why in the hell do you care?’
She lifted a well-shaped brow. “About you, I do not. But I do care for my husband because he is, in fact, my husband. I do not know how your relationship was before he married me, but I suspect you two did not fight as you did down in the hall tonight. I am simply attempting to apologize if I inadvertently caused that. If I did not, then I will apologize for disturbing you.”
Hugh’s handsome face was impassive as he watched her turn to walk way. But he couldn’t resist jabbing at her, so righteously confused and so righteously envious at the same time. When she wasn’t fighting tooth and nail, she was well spoken and lovely. Very lovely. Perhaps he could see what Davyss saw in her but he would not admit it. He couldn’t seem to think straight.
“You may think you have Davyss’ attention at the moment,” he said. “But trust me; he will lose interest in you quickly enough. He will no longer be pliable to your will and the wenches you sent away tonight will return in droves and there will be nothing you can do about it.”
She paused, eyeing the man and realizing he was attempting to get a rise out of her. She wondered if she should respond at all but, like Hugh, she couldn’t resist the confrontation. The man was arrogant and hurtful, and she would hurt him back.
“Are you so certain?”
He was smiling now, although it was not a smile of humor or warmth. “I know my brother well.”
“Do not be disappointed if you are wrong.”
His smile faded somewhat. “I will not be wrong.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “It is quite possible your brother is discovering that devotion to one woman is better than pursuing many,” she used Lady Katharine’s words, inspecting Hugh from head to toe, as he had inspected her just moments before. But there really was disgust in her expression. “Men like you would take the leavings of others by taking cheap whores to your bed. Are you so anxious to taste another man’s scent on a woman you would rub your own flesh against? Or would it be better to taste your scent over and over on a woman you have marked as your own? Bedding many women does not make you a man, Hugh de Winter. It makes you as cheap as they are.”
He was out in the landing now, his expression nothing short of furious. “What would you know about men?” he snarled. “Get out of my sight before I kill you.”
She smiled, a dangerous gesture. She knew she shouldn’t have pushed him; God knows, in hindsight, she knew it. But he was such an arrogant ass that she couldn’t help herself. She could already see how to goad him, to drive him to the brink. So she pushed the button without regard for what would come next, only the satisfaction of putting him in his place.
“Your brother might have something to say about that,” she murmured. “So ply me not with empty threats. I doubt you are man enough.”
He was on her in a flash. Her last coherent recollection was of stars bursting in front of her eyes.
CHAPTER TEN
Lady Katharine was having a difficult time keeping her composure. She gazed at her youngest son, standing wearily across from her in the lavishly decorated solar of Hollyhock, a four-storied manor on the edge of the River Thames. Hugh had appeared early that morning, just as the sun rose, looking gray and exhausted. She had demanded to know the purpose for his visit, alone and without his brother or their armies. It was just Hugh; he hadn’t even been dressed in armor. And then he told her.
It was a shocking revelation. Now, she was struggling as she gazed up at the man who resembled her dead husband to a fault. She was beginning to feel sick and terrified because she knew what was to come.
“Tell me again what you have done, Hugh, so there is no mistake,” she tried to sound calm. “I would understand completely.”
Hugh was spent. He faced his mother on his feet because she would not let him sit. “I killed Davyss’ wife,” he said hoarsely. “Mother, you must help me get away. Davyss will come for me and he will kill me.”
Lady Katharine sighed faintly. “Why did you kill her?”
Hugh was beginning to shrink in on himself, realizing what he had done the moment he had done it and fleeing Wintercroft immediately so that his brother would not kill him. And he knew the man would. He began to grow agitated.
“Because… because she was a hateful bitch,” he insisted, running his fingers through his dark hair. “Everything would have been all right had Davyss not returned for her. But he did return and somehow, she bewitched him. He changed. She did something to his mind, Mother. He was not the same brother I knew.”
She watched him through steady eyes. “How did he change?”
Hugh began to pace like a wounded dog. “I… I do not know, really.”
“You must know; otherwise, your statement is ignorant and foolish.”
He looked at her, his dark eyes flashing. “He had little time for his men or for me. Ever since he returned to Thetford for her, he acted as if nothing else in the world existed but her,” he jabbed a finger at his mother. “He killed two of Gloucester’s men because of her and ordered all of the serving wenches out of Wintercroft because she wished it. She cast a spell on him, I am telling you; he would not have done such things otherwise. She was a witch!”
Lady Katharine digested his words carefully. In that short burst, she was coming to see something that Hugh was not. It was not something she had expected but pleased to hear it.
“He is focused on her?”
“Aye.”
“And he ordered the serving wenches away from Wintercroft? The whores that plague the place?”
“Aye!” Hugh stopped pacing and went to her. “I must go to France, Mother. I need money and safe passage.”
Lady Katharine regarded him, mulling the situation over in her mind, pondering, digesting. She was, of course, gravely concerned. She was concerned, as Hugh was, of what Davyss would do. She did not want to see either one of her sons dead but she knew Davyss’ temper. More than that, there would be a matter of honor that would render the man a killing machine to the one who wronged him. Her calm demeanor wavered.
“What did you do to Lady Devereux, Hugh?” she demanded quietly. “How did you kill her?”
A pained expression crossed Hugh’s face. “We were arguing,” he said hesitantly. “I… I struck her and she fell down the stairs. She must have broken her neck.”
Lady Katharine struggled not to lash out at him. “You struck her?”
He couldn’t look her in the eye. “Aye.”
“I raised you better than that, Hugh. You do not strike women.”
He was growing agitated again. “I do not know why I did it,” he fell to his knees before her. “All I know is that we were arguing and it… it just happened. I do not even remember doing it. One moment, she was standing at the top of the stairs and in the next, she was lying lifeless at the bottom.”
“Do you know for a fact she is dead? Did you check her to make sure?”
He shook his head. “Nay… I saw her fall and I ran. I did not
stop to see if she was dead or alive.”
“Then you assume she is dead.”
“She fell down the Tower stairs. If she survived the fall it ’twould be a miracle.”
“I happen to believe in miracles,” Lady Katharine’s regarded her son carefully. “What did she say to you that made you strike her?”
He closed his eyes, collapsing in a miserable heap on his knees. “I do not know.”
“You are lying. You just killed a woman, your brother’s wife, and you cannot tell me what she said to make you snap?”
His head came up. “She provoked me!”
“Then you do remember. One more lie and I shall not help you at all.”
His expression grew painful again. “Oh, God,” he breathed, drawing a breath for strength. “We… Davyss and I fought earlier in the evening because I called his wife a bitch. I said it because I was angry; angry she had sent the serving women away from Wintercroft. Angry because Davyss had listened to her. Devereux came to me to try to explain how she had bewitched Davyss into doing it and I would not listen. She… she told me that devotion to one woman is better than bedding many, or something like it. She said I wasn’t man enough.”
Lady Katharine watched his lowered head, feeling anxiety such as she had never known. But she also felt great sorrow; if what Hugh said was true, then Lady Devereux had been attempting to teach her sons something that she had never been able to. If the lady was indeed dead, then she felt the loss deeply. Slowly, she rose from her chair and moved away from her youngest.
“You will stay here,” she told him, her old voice hoarse with emotion. “You will stay here and seek atonement for what you have done. Davyss will come, of that I have no doubt. I will not help you to flee. You have shamed yourself enough. Now you must be a man and face your punishment.”
Hugh was on his feet, his eyes wide. “But Davyss will kill me!”
She turned to look at him, her dark eyes piercing. “It is less than you deserve,” she snarled. “You are a disgrace to the de Winter name, Hugh. Stay here and face your brother when he comes or leave and never return. I will not see you again if you leave. You have my vow.”
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume 1 Page 122