Lespada (7 page)

“Will there be anything else, my lady?” the priest interrupted her thoughts.

She eyed him, shaking her head after a moment. “Nay,” she replied softly. “Except… well, if this is to be my bed, there is no mattress on it. I will need one.”

“We are already seeing to that, my lady.”

There was nothing more to say and he shut the door softly. She didn’t hear the bolt slip through the bracket but she couldn’t be sure that there wasn’t a knight out there, just waiting for her to open it.  If it was a test, she would pass it.  Quite frankly, there was no use escaping and returning to her father. He would only turn her back over to her husband.

So she sat on the floor against the wall opposite the hearth and waited.   Except for an occasional bird flying past the windows, her environment was largely silent.  Her thoughts had settled somewhat from the turbulent day although her distain at what had happened was still a powerful thing. She mostly blamed her father but knew, deep down, that the man had only been doing what he thought best for his daughter. An advantageous marriage that had been proposed to him by Lady Katharine de Winter had been both a surprise and a blessing. Only a fool would have refused. If she was honest with herself, she understood why he did it.

Time was shiftless and shapeless up in her prison. She truly had no idea how much of it had elapsed when she heard the door latch give and the panel push open.  An enormous man entered the chamber clad in a tunic, breeches and massive leather boots.  Seated against the wall, Devereux watched with trepidation and curiosity as the man entered with a tray in his hand.

He was clean shaven with cropped dark hair.  Devereux truly had no idea who the man was until he looked at her.  Sultry hazel eyes and a face that surely Adonis was jealous of gazed steadily at her. He smiled faintly.

“My lady,” he said in a soft, deep voice. “I have brought you something to eat.”

She had to look again; realizing it was Davyss, she rose stiffly from the floor, inspecting him as if she was just seeing him for the first time.  He was completely without armor, his face as smooth as a baby’s bottom and his dark hair clean and cut.  The rough linen tunic fit his powerful chest and enormous arms like the skin of a grape and she could see the muscles flexing as he moved. He had a tight waist, tight buttocks, and massively muscled thighs. And those hands… she imagined that his fist would be almost as large as her head.
My God
, she thought to herself. He was the most handsome creature she’d ever seen.  But handsome or no, it did nothing to ease her animosity towards him.

“So you have come to feed your caged animal?” she moved towards him, slowly. “How chivalrous.”

His smile faded. “I apologize for locking you in,” he said. “You must understand that this is a military encampment. I have hundreds of men on the grounds that would not think twice before molesting a woman. What I did, I did for your safety.”

She reached him and the food. “If that is true, then you should have had me bolt the door from the inside so no one could get in.  As it was, you put the bolt on the wrong side of the door. Anyone could have unlocked it.”

He shook his head. “The door was guarded on the landing. Moreover, had I told you the threat when I first brought you here, in your current hysterical state, I doubt you would have believed me. You would have disregarded my warning and tried to flee into an encampment of five hundred men who would have gladly taken you to sport.”

She eyed him, attempting to determine if he was telling the truth.  Unable to reach a conclusion, she reached out for a piece of hard, cold bread. She was starving and took a large bite.

“You could have at least left me with food and water,” she scolded.

“This keep has been unused for years. I had to send my men to collect even basic necessities.”  He watched her stuff her mouth with the bread, feeling rather caddish about locking her up without any comforts. He moved swiftly for the door. “I have something for you. I shall return.”

He slammed the door, leaving her rather startled at his swift disappearance.  But her puzzlement at his departure did not outweigh her appetite and she returned to the food he had brought, set upon the old table. There was the bread plus a hunk of tart white cheese, two small apples and a handful of walnuts.  There was also a cup of something, although she wasn’t quite sure what it was.  It smelled rank but she drank it anyway, thirsty, and realized it was old ale.  She made a face of disgust.

She sat on the bed frame and finished off the bread, half the cheese and one of the little apples. By the time Davyss came back, she was in the process of trying to crack the walnuts by stepping on them.  He saw what she was doing, picked the walnut off the floor, and cracked it with his bare hand. When he handed her the meat of the nut, Devereux tried not to look too astonished at brute strength.

“My thanks,” she said, eyeing his massive hands and wondering what else he could crack with them.

He silently acknowledged her and proceeded to set a big satchel on the table next to the food tray. It was a leather bag with intricate embroidery on it and leather handles.  He opened it up and proceeded to pull out the contents.

“Here,” he handed her a great bundle of material. “This is for you.”

Puzzled, Devereux unrolled the fabric and realized it was a surcoat.  The material was fantastic; some kind of silk, it was dyed a brilliant blue yet when the light hit it, there were high-lights of black and iridescent green. Before she could thank him, he was piling more garments on her arms. Carefully, she began to lay everything out on the bed frame and realized, when he was finished, that she had four new surcoats, three delicate shifts, one heavy lamb’s wool shift with gloriously belled sleeves and gold tassels, at least four scarves, two gold belts and several smaller pieces of jewelry.  Astonished, she looked up at him.

“I… I am not quite sure what to say,” she said. “I have never seen anything so glorious.”

For the first time since they had met, Davyss felt like he had the upper hand. She was humbled, speechless, and he felt in control. He was also quite pleased by the awestruck expression on her face. He felt as if he had done something right.

“I hope they are to your liking,” he said. “They are gifts on the event of our marriage.”

Her expression went from awestruck to somewhat concerned. She actually looked worried.

“They are beautiful, of course,” she said, daring to look up at him. “But I do not have any such gifts for you. I am not sure that it is fair for you to give me such riches and not expect something in return.”

He smiled that brilliant, toothy smile and Devereux’s heart began to race. The man was excruciatingly handsome and even she wasn’t immune to it. 

“Your beauty is gift enough, my lady,” he said gallantly. “How fortunate for me to have married the most beautiful woman in England.”

She didn’t look particularly comfortable with that declaration. Seeing that his words did not have the desired effect, Davyss reached into the bottom of the satchel and pulled forth a small silk purse to retrieve another weapon in his flattery arsenal.  He pulled forth a gold band with a massive yellow diamond in the center. It was a spectacular ring that glittered madly, even in the dim light.  He held it out to her.

“This is the ring my father gave to my mother on their wedding day,” he said. “My mother wanted you to have it. Would you honor me by wearing it?”

For the second time in as many minutes, Devereux was speechless. The ring was magnificent, larger and richer than anything she had ever seen. She knew the de Winters were wealthy but the concept truly had no meaning until this moment. For lack of a better response, she held out her hand to take it.  But Davyss took her hand, flipped it over, and slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand.  It was a little snug, but the fit was secure.  Devereux pulled her hand back to examine the beautiful piece.

“Again, I have nothing so magnificent for you,” she said, with obvious humility. “I am not sure I can accept such extravagant gifts.”

“Of course you can,” he assured her. “I am your husband. It is appropriate that you should have these.  A de Winter must be richly and lavishly dressed.”

She looked at him. “Why is that?”

He snorted. “Because we are one of the most powerful families in England,” he said as if she was in need of an education. “We must always be aware of that station and display it accordingly. Moreover, you have married the king’s champion. You, my lady, must be the most beautiful and well-dressed woman in London. You must honor me in that regard.”

She stared at him, beginning to see the egocentric man behind the handsome face. The man was full of himself; she’d seen a hint of it earlier in the chapel and she saw even more of it now. Her animosity and distaste for the union, so recently eased, suddenly returned with a vengeance.

“I see,” she said. “So I must parade around like a peacock so that all men will look to you and envy your good fortune.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “You have married well, my lady. Do you not understand that?”

She lifted an eyebrow. “And do you understand that I do not care?” she fired back. She grabbed one of the surcoats and shook it at him. “You ply me with gifts because you want me to be the best dressed, most beautiful woman in England, not because you are joyful at our marriage. All you have shown me so far is that you are only concerned with yourself and how I will make you the envy of all men.  You have helped me to understand that my opinion of the knighthood was not wrong; those who participate in it are vain and self-centered. You only care for your own glory.”

She tossed the garment down and turned away from, wandering towards the lancet window where the sun was now beginning to set. Streams of pink and gold filtered in through the opening and cast beams of light on the floor.

Davyss stared at her, the gentle curve of her backside and that glorious hair that he felt the urge to run his hands through. He was struggling to see her point of view but found, at the moment, that he could not.  He did not understand her resistance to that which he considered important and felt his irritation rise.

“I am sorry you do not appreciate the important station you have been given in life,” he rumbled. “I was hoping you would at least understand what is expected of you.”

She shook her head, unsure how to reply. The truth was that she was feeling hollow and hurt.  They could not have been further apart in ideals if they had tried and the realization that she was married to such a man sank her spirits tremendously. She was going to be miserable the rest of her life and she knew it.

“You do not know me, my lord,” she said quietly. “You do not understand what is important to me and I am sure you do not care.  Give me time to adjust to your expectations because, I am sure, you will not adjust to mine. I do not expect it. If you want a wife in name only, then you must give me time to provide it.”

He almost walked out of the room. He just didn’t see any point in speaking further on the subject. But something made him stay; he wasn’t sure what it was, but something deep inside told him not to leave her. Perhaps it was his mother’s advice that did not allow him to move. Whether or not she was in the room, Lady Katharine was telling him to stay.
Get to know her before you pass judgment
. Crossing his enormous arms, he leaned against the wall thoughtfully.

“My mother told me get to know you,” he said softly. “She told me that I must earn your respect. But I am not sure that is possible.”

Devereux turned to him. “Why would you say that?”

He lifted his massive shoulders. “Because you have already formed your opinion of what kind of man I am. You did the moment you married me. I am not sure I can change that.”

“You have given me little else to go on, my lord.  The words out of your mouth are extremely pompous and your actions thus far have been self-serving.”