Hearing the excitement in Avarine’s voice as she spoke of Davyss drove dagger after dagger into Devereux’s heart. She felt so worthless, so inadequate. She hated herself terribly at that moment.
Devereux jumped off the lists, hit the ground, and began running.
Seated in the royal box, Lady Katharine heard the shouting and turned in time to see Devereux disappear from the lists. She saw Lucy go after her but was prevented from paying closer attention by a strong hand on her arm.
“Was that Davyss’ wife?” Simon asked.
Lady Katharine nodded, looking rather concerned that the woman had just bolted off. “It is,” she replied.
“I only caught a swift glimpse of her, but she looks lovely.”
“She is,” she answered. “Davyss is very much in love with the girl. Perhaps I should go and see what the matter is.”
Simon shook his head. “No need,” he replied. “You cannot move as fast as she does and you will only hurt yourself, so it is best if you let your son handle his wife.”
Lady Katharine shot Simon a menacing glare with her faded hazel eyes. “Watch your tongue, man. I may not be able to run swiftly but I can still use a dagger quite adequately.”
Simon laughed softly. “You are still a firebrand after all of these years.”
Lady Katharine lifted an eyebrow at him. “You think so?” she slapped the hand on her arm and he removed it, still laughing. “And you are still as I remember; selfish and bold.”
Simon’s humor faded as he beheld Katharine’s angular profile. “Is that all you remember?” he asked softly.
Katharine refused be lured back to the days when she and Simon believed themselves in love with one another, when she was a young maiden and only pledged to Grayson de Winter. It was a futile romance but one that had burned hot at one time.
“I will not reminisce with you,” she said flatly. “There is no need.”
Simon knew that but it was still something he lived with, something he thought on every time he saw Davyss. “Did you ever tell him, Kate?” he murmured.
“Nay.”
“Why not?”
“Because he is a de Winter. What purpose would it serve to tell him otherwise?”
Simon sighed faintly, knowing there was truth to her statement. He wouldn’t push the issue, now thirty four years old and beyond any resolution. He averted his gaze, flicking imaginary pieces of dust off his breeches. “No purpose,” he agreed quietly. “But someday, I should like him to know.”
Katharine was in no mood for Simon’s attempt at reflection. In fact, she wanted far away from the subject. “Finish what you were saying about my son and be quick about it,” she told him. “He will be competing shortly and I want to watch.”
Simon lifted his eyes, regarding the woman’s profile again. She was such a strong woman, deeply dedicated to her sons. He knew why she had never told Davyss of his true parentage but it never eased his ache. And it was for that very reason that Simon knew he must press his issue.
“Davyss was most reluctant to swear fealty to me after Lewes,” he lowered his voice. “As I said, I believe the only reason he did it was because I threatened to hold his wife hostage to ensure his good behavior. As much as I hate to move against Davyss in such ways, I still feel it is necessary.”
Katharine’s jaw ticked. “So you do not trust his word?”
Simon was careful how he replied. “I would trust Davyss with my life, as you well know. But the man’s loyalties have always been with Henry. Even though he has sworn allegiance to me, I feel there is no harm in reinforcing that oath. Since the only reason he swore to support me was because I threatened his wife, I feel it necessary to force him to honor his pledge.”
Lady Katharine sighed heavily. “Simon, if you feel the only control you have over your men is to coerce and threaten them, then you are a poor leader indeed. If you take Devereux, it will only make Davyss hatefully mad. He will kill you.”
Simon’s gaze moved over the arena, watching as the marshals began to call the combatants forward. “Nay, he will not,” he muttered. “But he will want to, make no mistake. Katharine, do you wish to see your son live to be an old man? He’ll not live much longer by Henry or Edward’s side. They are both ruthless men and willing to battle at every turn. What I offer is peace.”
“Peace?” she snapped.
“Aye, peace,” he snapped in return. “Peace for the entire country because the common man will have a say in how his country is managed. It is the only way to achieve harmony.”
Katharine held up a hand. “Spare me your logic, Simon. I am an old woman and care not for the politics of the crown. But I will say this,” she turned to the man. “If you harm Davyss or his wife, in any fashion, my wrath shall be limitless. You need not fear Davyss at all; your biggest fear shall be me. Is this in any way unclear?”
Simon gazed deep into the eyes of the women he had known the majority of his adult life. “What would Grayson say to all of this?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You know what he would say; he would kill you himself before he allowed you to target one of his sons.”
Simon drew in a long, thoughtful breath. Then he leaned back in his chair, eventually chuckling.
“Still a spitfire,” he muttered.
Lady Katharine continued to eye him, even as he pretended to find interest in the combatants taking the field. She didn’t trust the man for she had known him too long; he would eventually have his way if he thought he could get away with it. When Simon started up a conversation about the last tournament he competed in, she paid little attention. There was something in his manner that was unsettling.
She didn’t like it.
*
The mêlée was about to begin. Davyss was poised with his team, comprised of his own knights, Northumberland’s men, men from Chester, York and Nottingham. There were also a few bachelor knights, men with less experience but full of heart, and they were thrilled to be included on the mighty de Winter squad. The field marshals were calling the teams onto the arena floor and just as Davyss moved forward with his men to take his position, Philip suddenly came up behind him and grabbed him by the arm.
Davyss turned to the man, speaking before Philip could bring any words forth.
“Where have you been?” he demanded. “You disappeared when the marshals were filling the match cards. What happened?”
Philip looked grim. “Lucy came to me,” he said urgently. “Drop what you are doing, man; we have problems.”
Davyss first reaction was confusion. But his second reaction was dread; Philip was not one to panic for frivolous reasons. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.
Philip yanked on him even as the men around him were pouring onto the field. Hugh paused, however, standing next to his brother because Philip looked so serious. He raised his visor and peered at the big blonde knight.
“What is wrong with you?” Hugh demanded. “We are due on the field.”
Philip shook his head. “Davyss, you must come. It’s Devereux.”
Those were the magic words. Davyss was already moving, heading for the lists because that was the last place he saw his wife. “What is wrong? What happened?”
As they neared the edge of the arena, they could all see Lucy standing at the edge of the field, her hands to her mouth. As Davyss drew near, he could see that her eyes were red and there were tears on her face. Panic seized him.
“Lucy?” he reached out to grab her. “Where is Devereux? What has happened?”
Lucy was sobbing deeply. “She… she ran away.”
Davyss’ eyebrows flew up. “Ran away?” he repeated. “Where in the hell is she?”
He was starting to get frantic. Philip pulled his wife from Davyss’ iron grip because the woman was already close to swooning. She would not survive Davyss’ anger.
“We do not know,” he said in a low, swift voice. “Lucy says that Lady Avarine appeared in the list with the twins. She apparently did not know or
realize who Devereux was and said many things that upset her. Devereux ran off.”
Davyss stared at Philip in complete, utter disbelief. “Avarine is here?”
Philip nodded grimly. “With the girls,” he replied. “You will recall that she and Lucy were friends long before Avarine met you. Avarine saw Lucy in the lists and naturally went to her.”
Davyss’ gaze was wide on the man. He wasn’t angry; he looked completely devastated. “My dear God,” he finally breathed, clapping a hand to his face in incredulity. His mind was whirling with a million different thoughts, easily overwhelming him. He began to walk. “Which direction did Devereux go, Lucy?”
Lucy was walking beside her husband, struggling to keep up with the long-legged men. “I do not know,” she wept. “I saw her disappear in the direction of the food vendors but I did not see where she went after that.”
Davyss felt sick. “What… what did Avarine say to her?”
Lucy sniffled as Philip pulled her along. “She spoke of the twins,” she replied. “She said that her father was competing and he was going to speak to you again about marrying his daughter because you are the father of her children.”
Davyss rolled his eyes miserably. “And she said all of this in front of Devereux?”
“Aye,” Lucy started to weep again. “She did not know that Devereux was your wife.”
Davyss didn’t say anymore. He was afraid to. He could hear the marshals yelling for him but he ignored them, instead marching to his tents with his men in tow. He yanked open the entry to the larger tent but it was empty. Andrew and Philip checked the other two; they were empty as well. Fear welled in Davyss’ chest until he could hardly think straight.
“Where else could she go?” he asked the general question to those around him. “She is not familiar with London. Where else could she have run off to?”
Andrew was with him. “I shall go to Hollyhock and see if she has returned there.”
Davyss stopped him. “Nay,” he half-hissed, half-commanded. “I will go. You, Edmund and Philip return to the arena. I will search for my wife.”
Andrew’s brow furrowed. “But you may need help. If she is not at Hollyhock, there is no telling where she has gone and you will need help looking for her.”
Davyss knew that, but he was so shaken at the moment that it was difficult for him to settle his thoughts. “If she is not at Hollyhock, I will send you word,” he slapped the man on the shoulder as Hugh bellowed for Davyss’ mount. “Go, now. I will return when I can.”
Although Andrew wasn’t entirely certain, he did as he was told. A groom brought about Davyss’ charger and he mounted, charging from the encampments and out into the streets beyond.
*
She was standing by the river’s edge as it banked along the border of Hollyhock, watching the waters of the Thames flow gently along. Birds cried overhead and the clouds intermittently blocked out the sun. She stood there, staring at the water, wondering if she was strong enough to throw herself in simply to rid herself of the pain in her heart.
She had run the mile or so from the tournament field back to Hollyhock. It had been foolish to run away; she knew that. But she had a habit of running from situations that went beyond her control. When her emotions were raging, there was no telling how far she would run. She had tried to run when Davyss’ men first came to escort her to her wedding, she had run when Davyss and his men had gotten into the fight at the Fist and Tankard, and she had run again when the woman who bore Davyss children had come around. She was always running. Sometimes she just had to.
She could hear the distant cheers from the crowds at the tournament arena. She knew that the mêlée must be well under way and she was sure that Davyss and his men were winning. With a heavy sigh, she knew that she needed to return to the field before the mêlée ended so that Davyss would not know that she had run off again. But she could hear Avarine’s words over and over in her head, like a battering ram, pounding the meaning and pain of the situation deep into her heart. Still, she would have to reconcile herself eventually. Davyss had other children. She had given him none.
With another sigh, she turned away from the river. But there was a body directly behind her and she gasped with fright, startled to see Davyss standing a few feet away. She had never heard him approach.
Devereux gazed into his beautiful hazel eyes, looking so forlornly back at her. She didn’t know what to say, feeling flushed and startled by his appearance. She realized that Lucy must have told him what had happened and, like any good husband, he went to search for her. No matter where she went, he always found her. She opened her mouth to say something but the words wouldn’t come. The sobs, however, did.
She burst into tears and threw herself against him. Davyss wrapped his arms around her tightly, feeling his own eyes sting with tears. There were layers of mail, armor and tunics between them, but Davyss could not have felt closer to the woman than he did at that moment. His relief, his sorrow, was indescribable.
“I am so sorry,” he murmured into the top of her head. “Dear God, if I could take back everything in my life that would even remotely bring you shame, I would do it gladly. I cannot apologize enough for your shame and hurt.”
She continued to weep, painfully deep, as he rocked her gently. “I… I am sorry I ran,” she sobbed. “I just did not… I could not… what she said. She was so happy, so thrilled to have borne your children and she wants to be a family with you.”
He suddenly grasped her by the face, forcing her to look at him. The glow from the hazel eyes was powerful.
“But I do not want to be a family with her,” he shook her gently to punctuate his words. “How many times must I explain this to you, Devereux? It is you that I love and adore, children or no. The day I married you, all other women in the world ceased to exist for me. There will be times when women like Avarine speak of me, for whatever reason, and you must tell yourself that whatever they speak of is all in the past. I would never stray from you and I do not hold feelings for anyone but you. How in the world can I prove this to you? Please tell me, for I do not like seeing you in pain like this. Please help me understand what I can do to convince you that you are the only woman I will ever love.”
By the time he finished his speech, her sobs had calmed. She gazed back at him, with an occasional hiccup, wiping her cheeks and nose with the pretty red satin handkerchief she had intended to give to her husband as a favor in the joust. After several moments of digesting his words, she finally shook her head.
“I know you love me and I know you will not stray,” she whispered. “It had nothing to do with that. After what happened with our child, seeing the beautiful girls you had fathered simply made me long for our baby. I want so much to be a good wife and to provide you with children. Seeing those girls… it simply reminded me of what we had lost.”
He pursed his lips sadly, kissed her, and pulled her back into a fierce embrace. “I understand,” he answered. “But you are not to blame for the loss. It was simply God’s will. There will be more children for us; I am sure of it. You must have faith.”
“I am trying.”
“Besides… the fun is in the practice.”
It took her a moment to realize what he said and she gasped softly in feeble outrage, swatting his mailed behind. Davyss laughed low in his throat.
“I cannot feel anything with all of this armor on,” he told her.
She made a face at him. “You are a vulgar beast.”
“A vulgar beast?” he repeated, his eyebrows lifting. “Since when is a man who lusts after his wife a vulgar beast?”
She shook her head, unwilling to answer, and he grinned as he pulled her into his arms once again and kissed her. He was simply glad that her tears were easing. He buried his face in the top of her head for a moment, relishing the feel of her, so glad he had found her safe and unharmed. The woman had become his whole damn world.
“Will you promise me something?” he requested.
She nodded, head against his chest and arms around his waist. “Of course.”
“No more running off. It scares the wits from me.”
She sighed faintly. “For that, I am sorry. It seems to be my reaction when situations become overwhelming. But I promise I will not do it again.”
“If you do run off, at least run to me and not away from me.”
“I will.”
“Thank you.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled back to look at her. “Can we return to the field? I would like to provide you with a deliciously fattening meal before my competition this afternoon.”
She smiled unenthusiastically. “As you wish.”
With an encouraging smile, he walked her back over to where he had tethered his charger by the gates of Hollyhock. Mounting her on his charger, he vaulted on behind her, holding her close, and took the long way back to the tournament field.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Davyss and Devereux returned to the tournament arena in time to see the last of the mêlée. They found a spot by the south side of the field and remained on the charger for a better vantage point.
The scene spread out before them could only be called a mess; the combatants were not allowed to fight with real weapons; hence, all they had were wooden clubs and wooden swords, so they were essentially beating one other. There was a good deal of blood and bruising, but no one was seriously injured. The rules stated that once a man was down, he had to stay down. Consequently, the arena floor was littered with men sitting on their bum, watching what was happening and cheering their teammates on.
Devereux had to admit that it was rather like watching little boys run amuck. Out of Davyss’ men, the only one down was young Edmund and he was clearly unhappy about it. Andrew, Hugh and Philip were still in the running, clubbing men, tripping them, or shoving them around. Devereux looked at Davyss and they grinned at each other, humored by the spectacle. Somewhere in the fighting, Hugh spied his brother and waved to him, making his way to the edge of the arena and nearly getting pushed over in the process. But Hugh was fast and made it through the masses unscathed.
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume 1 Page 134