Lespada (29 page)

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 stones 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.

“I do not believe that shall be necessary,” she said after a moment.

His brow furrowed. “Why not?”

She wouldn’t look at him as she rubbed her belly. She seemed to find interest in everything else in the room but him, unable to meet his eye.  It took her some time to reply and when she did, her tone was laced with hesitance.

“Because…,” she tried again. “Because I do believe your mother can already expect a grandchild in the winter.”

Davyss stared at her a moment as the words sank in. His smile vanished completely and the hazel eyes widened.

“What?” he couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping. “Are you serious?”

She sighed heavily, nodding.  Then she tipped over sideways and ended up supine on the bed. Exhaustion and apprehension gave way to teary eyes which she quickly wiped away.

“Aye,” she murmured, her hand still on her belly. “I have not been feeling my best the past few weeks and it is only growing worse. I thought it was the shock of our marriage, or the travel, but I cannot deny that I was feeling poorly before you returned to Thetford. Right now, all I want to do is sleep and that is not like me. I am exhausted, my head throbs and my belly aches constantly, which leads me to believe that I may be with child.”

He was suddenly on his knees beside the bed, his face a mask of shock. “So that is that why you have been retching?”

“I believe so.”

“But… but we have only… not more than a few times, and….”

She met his eye, then. “It only takes once, Davyss,” she couldn’t help but smile at the expression on his face. “It would seem that your virgin bride conceived on that day we do not like to speak of. Perhaps something good came out of that day, after all.”

Davyss was stunned.  He remained on his knees beside the bed, trying to reconcile her news in his own mind.  Eventually, a massive hand came up and began gently stroking her arm. For several long moments, he couldn’t seem to manage anything else.  He really didn’t know what to say.

“Do you truly believe this is the case?” he asked softly.

She couldn’t figure out if he was appalled or thrilled by the news. “I do,” she murmured. “My cycle has not come since that day, either. I am therefore fairly certain.”

That bit of information seemed to seal his thoughts.  He pulled her towards him, kissing her mouth with gentle passion.   His hands were on her face, in her hair, as he gently and tenderly kissed her.

“I honestly do not know what to say to all of this,” he murmured against her lips. “I had not imagined that we would be so soon blessed.”

Her eyes were open, watching him as he kissed her. “Are you pleased, then?”

He stopped kissing her, fixing her in the eye with his intense gaze.  For a long moment, he didn’t answer her. He just stared at her.

“Aye,” he finally whispered. “I am utterly overjoyed. Stunned, but overjoyed.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

She offered him a timid smile and he resumed his kisses, now more passionate and lusty. In little time, his hands were fondling her breasts and she flinched.  He froze in his onslaught.

“Did I hurt you?” he demanded softly, looking at his hand still covering her breast. “I did not mean to.”

She put her small hands on his face and kissed his cheek. “I am a bit tender,” she admitted.

“You did not say anything two days ago when I disrupted your bath.”

“That is because the tenderness is bearable.”

He watched her expression a moment just to make sure she was telling the truth. Then a slow smile spread across his face.

“That is good,” he murmured. “You should know that I do not intend to keep my hands off you for the next several months. It would be an impossible task.”

She giggled softly, not knowing what to say to his bold declaration. She was still too new to love games to concoct a smooth reply. He saw her uncertainty and laughed softly.

“But I will leave your to your rest if I must,” he said softly, his eyes drifting over her lovely face. “I should not want to do anything to jeopardize the health of my son.  Even as I say it, I still cannot believe it.”

She wriggled her eyebrows. “Nor can I,” she admitted. “I am sorry I did not tell you sooner. I suppose I have suspected for some time now but I did not want to admit it.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged, averting her gaze, watching his enormous hands caress her arms. “Must you truly ask that?” she murmured. “Until a few days ago, I was bound to a marriage I did not want and to a man I did not….”

She trailed off, unwilling to risk upsetting him, but he knew that. He smiled faintly, his grip on her tightening. “I know,” he whispered. “I was beastly and selfish. I have tried to right things with us. I hope that I have at least made some progress.”

She met his gaze again, smiling gratefully. “You have made a world of progress,” she said. “And I am deeply appreciative for all you have done.”

He eyed her; it was his turn to avert his gaze, looking pensive as he studied the shape of her neck and shoulders. “I will make you a promise, Devereux,” he said softly, sincerely. “I will do my very best to make an excellent husband and father. I want to do this very much.”

She squeezed his big fingers. “You are well on your way.”

He glanced at her, grinning reluctantly. “Am I?”

She nodded with certainty. “Aye,” she replied. “You do not seem like the same man I married in Thetford.”

  He wriggled his eyebrows sheepishly. “I am the same man,” he assured her. “But perhaps… perhaps that man has matured a bit. Perhaps he realized that the lovely woman he married was the path to something in life he never imagined to exist.”

She smiled, cocking her head sweetly. “And what is that?”

He lifted his big shoulders. “Heaven and happiness,” he said frankly, grinning when their eyes met. “I cannot explain in any more than that.”

Devereux smiled sweetly at him, stroking a rough cheek. Davyss lowered his head and kissed her again, with extreme gentleness, as his hand resume very carefully fondling her breast.  As he moved to climb onto the bed next to her, there was a loud knock at the door.

Leaping to his feet, he adjusted his arousal as he made his way to the door and opened it.  Several men were in the hall with Devereux’s trunks and he directed them to put them in the chamber across the hall.   By the time they were done slamming the trunks to the floor and generally creating a ruckus, he waited until the last soldier left before returning to his chamber and once again shutting the door.  But the moment he turned to the bed, he stopped in his tracks.

Devereux was dead asleep, an arm over her forehead as she lay on her back and snored very, very softly.  Davyss stood there a moment, hands on his hips, smiling as he gazed down at her. He was still having a difficult time believing the news.  Six weeks ago, he thought his life had taken a turn for the worse.  Never had he imagined that he would be seeing an entirely new, joyful side of life that was beyond his imagination. 

He had never been the emotional type when it came to women.  He’d spent the majority of his adult life with women throwing themselves at him, well-insulated against the female emotions.  More than one woman had fallen in love with him and he hadn’t cared in the least, not even for the baron’s daughter who had borne him twins.  Love was a fool’s emotion, or so he thought. He had never fallen in love with a woman, not once.  But as he gazed down at his sleeping wife, he knew that particular fact was about to change.

It already had.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Tower of London

Henry the Third, King of England, was fairly tall man with reddish-gold hair and a droopy eyelid.  He wasn’t feeble by any means, having been a warrior most of his life, and even in his advancing years managed to be tough and agile. Devereux was quivering so badly when Davyss introduced her to the king that she nearly fell over when she curtsied.  But she managed to hold her balance, holding it further when she was introduced to Prince Edward, the king’s eldest son and heir to the throne.  Edward was tall and lanky, a big man with a crown of blonde hair and a big booming voice.

Although the pair was polite, it was clear that their attention was on Davyss.  Edward joked with him like a brother and Henry seemed almost eager to communicate with him.  Although Devereux knew that Davyss was the king’s champion and had known that from the onset of their association, it was still difficult to believe.  Davyss handled them both with cool respect.