Lespada (45 page)

She smiled at him as he proceeded to remove the rest of his protection himself.  Devereux reclaimed her stool and sat, watching him as he stripped down to his padded tunic and breeches.  One of the de Winter squires entered the tent and began collecting the armor and mail, taking it away to be cleaned.  

When Davyss stood there with his hands on his hips, gazing into space thoughtfully as the squire worked around him.  Devereux also sat quietly, her hands fidgeting in her lap, uncertain of her husband’s mood.  In spite of what he said about not ruining his day, she still felt badly about it.

“Do you really believe that Lord Simon was attempting to abduct me?” she asked quietly.

He was still lost in thought, jolted from his trance by the sound of her voice.  He shifted on his big legs, joints popping as he moved to her.

“I cannot be completely sure that it was not his intent,” he said quietly. “In any case, it concerns me.”

Devereux was watching him intently. “But you said that the entire reason behind pledging to Simon was so he would not try to take me hostage to ensure your good behavior.”

He nodded, looking rather disgusted with the entire thing. “That is exactly why I did what I did,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But if Simon intends to try and abduct you regardless, then it would make sense to get you as far away from London as possible and locked up safe.”

She drew in a long, deep breath and looked at her hands again. “Where will you take me?”

He wriggled his eyebrows and began rolling up his sleeves. “Hollyhock and Wintercroft are out of the question,” he answered. “They are too easily breached with a large army.  They are fortified manors and not meant for heavy combat.  Castle Acre or Breckland would be acceptable, but you do not like Castle Acre and my mother would disown me if Breckland was compromised. And Threxton is too small.”

She looked up from her hands. “Then there is nowhere to go?”

He heard distress in her voice and took a knee beside her, taking her soft hands into his enormous calloused ones. “Of course there is,” he stroked her blonde head. “I shall take you to Norwich and heavily fortify it.”

She gazed steadily at him. “And you? Where will you go and what will you do?”

He kissed her on the forehead and stood up. “I will do what is necessary.”

It was a vague answer but she didn’t press him.  As she stood up and smoothed her lovely surcoat, the one that she had been so proud of bearing the de Winter colors, Andrew suddenly stuck his head into the tent. 

The man’s dark green eyes lingered on Devereux a moment before moving to Davyss.  He had an odd look on his face.

“Davyss,” he cleared his throat. “May… may I have a word with you?”

Davyss turned to look at him as he stripped off his padded tunic. “What about?”

“Outside, please.”

Davyss didn’t give a second thought to the man’s tone or request.  He tossed the padded tunic to the ground and pulled a clean lighter-weight, egg-colored tunic from a small traveling trunk.  He pulled it over his head as he walked to the tent flap.

“I shall return shortly,” he told Devereux. “Do not leave this tent.”           

She shook her head and sat back down on the stool. “I will not,” she assured him. “May we eat when you are finished with Andrew?”

He grunted. “Of course,” he said as if he had completely forgotten he had promised her a fattening meal. “I apologize. I will have food sent to you and then we shall leave for Hollyhock.”

She smiled her thanks and he winked at her, quitting the tent.   As he followed Andrew and fumbled with his clean tunic, he failed to see a woman and two small girls standing a few feet away.  He was busy pulling on the sleeves and adjusting the collar.  When he finally lifted his eyes and saw Avarine, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Avarine smiled radiantly at him.  In each hand, she held a small girl, both of whom looked back at Davyss with varied degrees of curiosity and boredom.  Davyss struggled to recover his shock as he resumed walking, moving more slowly as he approached.  When he was a few feet away, he stopped completely.

“Avarine,” he didn’t know what else to say. “It has been a long time.”

Avarine was overjoyed to see him. “Davyss,” she breathed the name as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world. “I saw you in the mêlée. You were wonderful.”

Davyss nodded faintly as if to thank her, or possibly agree with her, looking to Andrew and silently pleading for the man’s help.  But Andrew imperceptibly shook his head;
what would you have me do?
  Other than create a diversion so he could run away, Davyss wasn’t sure.  He was trapped. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

“You are looking well,” he said, finally looking to the identical girls beside her.  He felt his heart soften in spite of his shock. “I cannot believe how much they have grown. Last I saw them, they were barely walking.”

Avarine was bursting with pride. “Aren’t they beautiful?” she cooed, looking to each girl. “They look so much like you. And they act like you, too; they are very brave and strong.”

Davyss nodded his head, watching one of the twins stick her finger up her nose.  That brought a chuckle. “They are most definitely a de Winter,” he agreed. “I see much of my father in them.”

Avarine smiled broadly. “Can you spare a moment to speak with them?” she asked. “I would like for them to know their father.”

Davyss looked at the woman, seeing so much more in her expression than mere talk; that had been the trouble with Avarine. She already had them married the moment she first met him and the birth of the children only compounded the problem. She should have been absolutely ashamed that she had bore children out of wedlock, but instead, she waved it around like a banner. He’d spent years avoiding her missives and demands from her father, but at this moment, he could not escape her. He should have known she would be in attendance at the tournament, watching and waiting for her moment to speak with him.  Davyss always attended the high-profile tournaments.  He felt like the spider cornered by the fly.

“Is that truly all you wish, Avarine?” he asked, a hint of impatience in his tone. “Simply for me to speak with the girls?”

She tried to look innocent but couldn’t quite manage it. “It is right that they come to know you,” she batted her eyelashes at him. “And… and I thought that you and I could speak as well. There is much to say.”

“I have said all I am ever going to say to you,” he said, trying not to be unkind. “There is nothing more I wish to speak of.”

A disappointed expression crossed her face. “But… time has passed, Davyss, and still I have not wed. The girls need their father. I was hoping we might speak… well, speak on such things. Our future, perhaps?”

Davyss opened his mouth to reply but he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.  A soft hand slipped into his palm, holding it tightly.  Startled, he turned to see Devereux standing next to him.

She was focused on Avarine, her beautiful face surprisingly calm.  Davyss wondered how much of their conversation she had heard. Before he could say a word to her, Devereux spoke.

“I am sorry that we were not property introduced earlier in the lists,” she said to Avarine. “There was much happening at the time and I am afraid I was a bit distracted. I am the Lady Devereux de Winter, Davyss’ wife.”

Avarine’s smile vanished as Devereux’s word sank in.  Her eyes bugged and her face took on a sickly color.

“W-wife?” she repeated, dumbfounded. “But… but I did not know…that is to say, I had not heard that Davyss took a wife.”

Devereux smiled up at her rather stricken-looking husband. “He did indeed,” she said, returning her attention to Avarine and the girls. “We were married two months ago.”

Avarine suddenly looked as if she was about to cry. She turned her attention to Davyss, her eyes wide and accusing.

“But…,” she stammered. “You told my father you did not want to marry. You told him that you would never marry!”

He was calm. “At the time, it was true. But time has a tendency to change one’s outlook.”

Avarine went from sickly pale to brilliant red. “But I bore your children,” she spat. “If anyone should have been given marital consideration, it should have been me. Why did you not call for me? 
Why not me
?”

Her voice was growing loud and the little girls looked up at their mother, frightened by the tone of her voice.  Before Davyss could reply, Devereux suddenly stepped forward and grabbed the woman by the arms.

“Still yourself, lady,” she hissed. “Look at your children; look how frightened you have made them with your screaming. If you have been pining over Davyss for the past five years, then that is your misfortune; he was never yours to begin with.  So still your crying voice and get a hold of yourself, because what you wish for can never be and the sooner you understand that, the better for you and your children.”

It all came out as a rapid-fire, lowly spoken tirade.  Avarine stared at Devereux with shock, her mouth working as the girls on either side of her tugged and whined.  But Avarine ignored the girls; she seemed to having great difficulty breathing as her chest heaved.

“But…,” she gasped. “But we have children together and….”

Devereux cut her off. “Any whore can give a man children,” she snapped. “It does not endear you to him any more than any other woman he has bedded. Did you think you were special? Are you truly so stupid? Your children are beautiful and he will, of course, see to their needs, but my advice to you is to grow up and move on with your life. There are other men out there who would be honored to marry a woman of your beauty.  But think no more on Davyss de Winter, for he is married and out of your reach.”

Avarine took a step back; she had to.  Devereux’s words slammed into her like blows from a mighty fist.   She began blinking back tears as she thought on the brutally frank words that Lady de Winter had so honestly delivered. It was harsh but true.

“My God,” Avarine suddenly hung her head, closing her eyes tightly. “I am so ashamed.”

Devereux wasn’t without sympathy; she had, after all, what the woman wanted.  She put her hand on her shoulder briefly. “No need,” she whispered. “We have all had our moments of foolishness and weakness.”

Avarine simply hung her head. With a lingering glance at the woman, Devereux turned around and headed back for Davyss’ tent.

“I shall await you inside, sweetheart,” she said, head held high. “Take whatever time you need.”

Davyss watched her go, fighting off a grin of such astonishment and pride that it was difficult for him to conceal.  He was constantly amazed by the caliber of the woman he had married, so much love for her in his heart that he couldn’t begin to describe it.  As she disappeared into the distant tent, he turned back to Avarine, who was still rooted to the spot with a somewhat dazed expression.

Davyss took some pity on her; after all, she had just received a fairly impressive tongue lashing, truthful though it might have been.  With a faint sigh, he moved to within a few feet of her and knelt down, focused on the little girls.

Two pairs of hazel eyes gazed back at him, curiously, and he smiled. “Who is Isabella and who is Angela?” he asked gently.

The little girls looked confused a moment before timidly pointing at each other.  Davyss laughed softly lowered himself to the cool green grass, getting comfortable.