Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume 1

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Mother,” Davyss went to her, bending over to kiss her wrinkled cheek and fighting off the happy dogs in the process. “You look well on this day.”

  Katharine finished the stitch and gave him her full attention. “You have not come to tell me how well I look,” she told him flatly.

  He lifted an eyebrow at her, folding his massive arms across his chest. “So much for pleasantries,” he muttered, then louder: “’Tis your guilt speaking.”

  Katharine matched his lifted eyebrow. “I have no guilt to speak of, Davyss de Winter. If you are here to harass me, you can go along your way. I’m sure the king is waiting for you with great impatience, unable to govern the country without his mighty champion by his side.”

  She said it sarcastically. Davyss couldn’t decide if he was angry or humored by her attitude. After a moment, he paced over to the enormous Gothic-style window, complete with precious glass. Very few homes had such opulence. He gazed from the window, seeing a portion of the carriage through the iron gates.

  “I would assume Hugh has been here,” he said.

  Katharine dropped her needlework entirely. “He has,” she was honest, moving straight to the point because she knew that was why he had come. “What he did was not right, Davyss. I told him so. But it is my impression that it was an accident more than he was actually trying to hurt her.”

  Davyss looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your wife. Hugh did not mean to kill her and I forbid you to seek vengeance against your brother.”

  Davyss’ eyebrows lifted. “You forbid me?” he repeated, incredulous. “I am a grown man, Mother. The time has long since passed that you could forbid me anything.”

  Katharine was on her feet, collecting her cane from where it was propped against the luxurious chair she had been seated in.

  “I am sorry for your wife, truly,” she said with great sincerity. “It is a great tragedy. But what is done is done. Seeking revenge against your brother will not bring her back.”

  Davyss watched his elderly mother approach. “She is not gone.”

  Katharine’s old eyes widened with surprise. “She is not dead?”

  He shook his head. “Nay,” he told her. “Not in the least, although she does have a bruise on her face from Hugh’s fist.”

  Katharine suddenly came to a halt, looking exceedingly relieved. “Praise God,” she murmured, hand to her heart, before speaking to her son again. “I thought you were here to kill your brother over his actions.”

  Davyss watched her carefully. “Where is Hugh?”

  Katharine waved a careless hand. “Gone,” she said vaguely, hoping he would not pursue it. “I sent him away. I did not want you to find him here.”

  “Where did you send him?”

  She looked pointedly at him. “Away.” She would say no more, changing the subject instead. “Where is your wife, then? Did you bring her with you?”

  “I did,” he replied, stepping aside so she could look from the window. “Mother, where is Hugh?”

  She didn’t look at him, pretending to look out of the window instead. “I told you; I sent him away.”

  “I want to know where he is.”

  “I will not tell you until your anger against him cools.”

  “I am not angry,” Davyss assured her as calmly as he could. “But I wish to know where my brother is.”

  He heard his mother sigh faintly. After a moment, she turned to him. “I sent him to Simon.”

  At least she didn’t lie to him about it. He felt marginally better about that. But the confirmation still hit him in the gut.

  “You realize, of course, that you are pitting your sons against each other,” he told her in a low, calm voice. “I ride with Henry to Sussex, probably tonight. Simon knows this; he is moving his supporters to engage. Hugh and I are riding into battle against each other.”

  Katharine’s steady gaze didn’t waver. “There is no difference if you ride to battle together or against each other,” she replied. “I stand no greater chance of loss. Either way, I may lose one or both of you. That has always been the case.”

  Davyss sighed faintly, moving away from the window. He paced to his mother’s fat chair and sat heavily, his big body suddenly weary. The little dogs jumped on his lap happily but he did not pet them; he was too focused on his heavy thoughts.

  “I do not want to kill my brother,” he muttered. “I cannot believe he is siding with Simon.”

  Katharine moved in his direction, her cane making dull noises against the wood floor.

  “He is not siding with Simon,” she said quietly.

  “Simon told me that he was.”

  “You already knew I had sent him to Simon?”

  He nodded. “I did,” he glanced up at her. “I wanted to see how truthful you would be about it.”

  “And did I meet your expectations?”

  “You did,” he replied. “And you met my expectations about something else.”

  “What is that?”

  He should have had a difficult time swallowing his pride, but he found he did not. “You were right,” he murmured. “About Lady Devereux. You were absolutely right.”

  Katharine rather liked the sound of that, although her conversation with Hugh had given her some indication about how Davyss and his wife were getting along. She sat on the chair next to him, leaning on her cane.

  “What was I right about?” she asked softly.

  Davyss smiled faintly. “You said once that I needed someone to show me that the true meaning of manhood comes from dedication to one woman, not many.” He suddenly shook his head as if amused by the irony of it all. “I did not believe you; not in the least. But this woman I have been married to for just a few weeks has very quickly come to mean a great deal to me and I am coming to understand what you meant.”

  Lady Katharine struggled to suppress a grin. “I can hardly believe my ears,” she said softly. “Explain.”

  He shrugged his big shoulders. “I am not sure if I can. All I know is that she is kind, compassionate, humorous and blindingly beautiful. When I look at her, my heart thumps against my ribs and my hands sweat. I kiss the woman and she consumes my being. I want to make her happy; Sweet Jesus, there is nothing more on earth that I could wish for than to make her completely, utterly happy. I cannot explain my feelings to you any more than that.”

  Katharine’s smile broke through and she put a gnarled hand on her son’s dark head. “I am pleased, Davyss,” she murmured. “Very pleased.”

  He looked at her, making a wry face. “I knew you would be.”

  “Are you happy?”

  He lifted his eyebrows, nodded his head and shrugged all at the same time. “I am. I truly am. I do not exactly know why I should be, but I am.”

  Katharine patted his cheek and struggled to stand up. Davyss rose and helped his mother gain her footing.

  “Where is your wife?” Katharine wanted to know. “Bring her inside so that I might speak with her. The only conversations I have had with the woman have not been pleasant ones.”

  He let go of her when he was sure she was not going to teeter. “You will have ample opportunity to make up for unpleasant conversations,” he told her. “I will be leaving her in your care while I am away.”

  Katharine lifted an eyebrow. “Hmmm,” she grunted. “Do you suppose she is going to want to spend endless boring hours with a frail old woman?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Katharine looked at him as if he were an idiot. “What about her charity? Perhaps she would rather spend her time there. It was my understanding that it consumes most of her time, anyway.”

  He looked as if the thought had not occurred to him. “Perhaps it has in the past. But now her time is spent with me.”

  “Do you so arrogantly presume that your shining presence will erase any longing she might feel to return to The House of Hope?”

  He frowned. “I have provided amply for the place,” he told her. “Before we
left for Wintercroft, I supplied the place with enough money to see to its needs for quite some time. There are others who can adequately run the place in her stead.”

  Katharine could see that he did not understand any priorities but his own. She shook her head faintly. “All I am saying is that if you truly wish to make her happy, then you should ask her where she wishes to spend her time while you are away,” she eyed her son. “You may be away for quite some time.”

  Davyss’ expression took on a distant look. “Long indeed,” he muttered. “Perhaps permanently.”

  Katharine didn’t react other than to pet the dog that suddenly jumped up beside her. “Have you discussed that possibility with her?”

  He shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “We are only just coming to know each other. I am not sure that is an entirely appropriate subject at the moment.”

  “You are a warrior. She knows there is the possibility of you going to war and not returning.”

  “But I do not want to discuss that with her just yet.”

  “Why not?”

  He looked at her, frustrated. “Can I not simply enjoy this marriage for a few short hours? Why must I immediately speak of war and death to her? She does not want to hear it, anyway. She does not like conflict.”

  Katharine lifted a gray eyebrow. “She has married you,” she replied pointedly. “War and death are part of your life. Whether or not she likes it, it is a reality. What happens if you do not return, Davyss? What shall she do? You must make your wishes clear to her.”

  He abruptly stood, heading for the door. “I will,” he said as he walked. “But not right now.”

  “If you leave with Henry tonight, you do not have much time.”

  Davyss didn’t reply. He continued through the elaborate foyer and to the great oak door. Throwing it open, he emitted a piercing whistle between his teeth and motioned to Nik and Philip when they turned to look at him. The Catesby brothers, at the back of the column, began to shout and move the men as Nik and Philip went to the carriage. Philip opened the door as Nik extended a hand to Devereux.

  “Lady de Winter?” he said politely. “Your husband has requested your presence.”

  Devereux climbed out of the cab, her eyes still on the elaborate home. Davyss met her at the gate, taking her from Nik and kissing her hand sweetly before tucking it into the crook of his elbow.

  “We will only be here a short time,” he told her as they approached the mammoth stone entry. “I must attend Henry sooner rather than later and I intend to bring you with me.”

  Devereux gathered her skirt as they mounted the steps. She was wearing one of the surcoats he had given her for their wedding, a pale blue confection with silver embroidery along the neck and sleeves. With her blonde hair pulled back and secured with a blue-glass comb, she looked enchanting. But Devereux wasn’t so sure.

  “Am I appropriately dressed to meet the king?” she wanted to know, smoothing down the skirt when they reached the door. “Should I change into something else?”

  He shook his head. “You are exquisite,” he kissed her cheek before encouraging her into the house. “We will say a few pleasantries to my mother and be on our way.”

  Devereux still wasn’t convinced that she shouldn’t change into something more elaborate and put on every jewel she had, but if Davyss said that her appearance was acceptable, then she would trust him. Upon entering the magnificent four-storied foyer, Lady Katharine’s two little dogs suddenly rushed Devereux in a barking frenzy. The first thing they did was grab the bottom of the surcoat with their sharp little teeth and begin ripping.

  Davyss swooped down and grabbed them both by the scruff of the neck. He would have thrown them through the window had his mother’s sharp voice not stopped him.

  “Hurt those dogs and I will disinherit you this day,” she boomed as much as she was able. “Put them down, Davyss; do it now.”

  Davyss’ jaw was ticking as he looked to the dogs squirming in his grip. “These are vicious little beasts, Mother. If I put them down, they may do more damage.”

  “Put them down.”

  “If they bite her, I will kill them.”

  “Put them down.”

  He did, but not before kicking one of them. He actually shoved the dog with his foot more than he kicked it; the little creature skidded across the floor, barking furiously at Devereux until Katharine’s sharp voice silenced it. Then the dogs did nothing more than sniff at Devereux before trotting obediently back to their mistress. Devereux watched them with big eyes, not at all pleased that the savage little rats had just wrecked her skirt.

  “It is ruined,” she whispered to her husband, trying to get a good look at the damage. “I will most definitely have to change before we see the king.”

  Davyss, extremely displeased at his mother’s wild animals, gently took her into the solar where his mother now sat with her two bodyguards. Lady Katharine’s gaze was intense upon Devereux.

  “My lady,” she greeted. “I apologize for the dogs. They do not like strangers. I will replace the dress, of course.”

  Devereux smiled weakly. “It is of no matter, my lady,” she replied, dipping into a gracious curtsy. “I am honored to be in your home.”

  Katharine watched her very carefully; the last time she had seen the lady, she had been distraught and harried. The woman before her was lovely, graceful and calm, which was something of a pleasant surprise. Even though Davyss had told her that he was coming to appreciate his new wife, still, given their rough beginning it was difficult to comprehend that the situation was easing between them. She indicated the chair next to her.

  “Will you sit?”

  Devereux planted herself carefully into the chair, sitting straight and properly, hands folded in her lap. Katharine watched her expression, the body language, before speaking.

  “You are looking well,” she said. “I understand that marriage agrees with my son. Does it agree with you also?”

  Devereux’ eyes widened briefly at the blunt question. “It seems to, my lady,” she replied honestly. “Davyss has done much to make it agreeable.”

  “Excellent,” Katharine nodded with satisfaction. “Then it would not be too much to hope for a grandson very soon?”

  Davyss intervened; he had to. He clapped a disbelieving hand on his forehead, reaching to take his wife’s arm and pull her from the chair. “Sweet Jesus, Mother,” he muttered. “We have only just arrived and already you are speaking of grandchildren?”

  He had pulled Devereux to her feet. Katharine watched the pair indignantly. “And why not?” she demanded. “The purpose of this marriage is to perpetuate the House of de Winter and I see no offense in asking a true question.”

  Davyss gave her an exasperated look, putting his hand on Devereux’s back to gently guide her towards the door.

  “You could have just as well asked me,” he scolded her. “Of course you can hope for a grandson in the spring. Or perhaps the summer. Perhaps it will be a girl and not a boy. Whatever the case, we have done our duty, as you are well aware. The House of de Winter will continue at some point.”

  Katharine lifted an eyebrow. “At some point, indeed. I am an old woman, Davyss. I do not have time to waste.”

  Davyss was carefully pushing his wife along but Devereux abruptly stopped, turning to face Lady Katharine. She put her hand on Davyss’ arm, stilling him, when he tried to turn her back around.

  “I will do my best, Lady Katharine,” she assured her. “I understand that my role in this marriage is to breed strong sons. I will try not to disappoint you.”

  Davyss just looked at her, somehow hurt by her words. Perhaps in his mind, that too had been her only role in this marriage. But that idea ended a few days ago when he returned to Thetford. In just the past few days, she had come to mean much more to him. He almost didn’t care about children; he simply wanted to get to know her better because what he knew so far had him captivated. When Devereux turned around to leave the room, he shot his mother
a reproving look. Lady Katharine was unremorseful.

  “I am sure you will not, my lady,” she replied evenly.

  Davyss refused to let the conversation continue. He took Devereux from the room and to the wide stone stairs that were built into the house, leading to the upper floors of the manse. He left his wife standing at the base of the stairs while he went to the door and ordered all of her trunks brought inside. Then he escorted Devereux to the third floor, took a left turn, and ended up in a wing of dark wood and musky smells. This was Davyss’ domain at Hollyhock, the lair of the eldest de Winter male. It had the feel of power, virility and intimidation.

  The four rooms on this level were his; two on the west side of the house and two on the east with a central hall down the middle. There were small rooms in between each pair of rooms for dressing and bathing. Davyss’ male servants slept here when he was in residence. He took his wife to the first room on the left.

  The first thing that greeted Devereux was an enormous bed made from strong English oak. It had four giant posts and a canopy of heavy fabric curtains that encircled it. He paused by the door as she continued inside, inspecting the big, well-furnished room. She ran her hands over the bed post, feeling the quality of it.

  “This is my bedchamber when I stay at Hollyhock,” he told her. “If you wish to change anything about it, feel free to do so. It is a room for a man and I am sure you would like to change that.”

  She smiled faintly as she turned to him. “Why would I?” she asked. “The room reminds me of you and that is not a bad thing in the least.”

  He grinned. “I am flattered,” he replied, stepping into the room. He closed the door softly behind him. “This room shall serve us well as we practice making those grandchildren that my mother is so eager to have.”

  Devereux’s smile faded and she lifted an eyebrow at him, suddenly looking very weary. As Davyss watched with curiosity, she sat heavily on the bed and blew out her cheeks as if her exhaustion had abruptly caught up with her. Davyss thought she looked a bit apprehensive and he began to wonder if his mother’s comments this early in their marriage had somehow offended her. He was about to find out.