Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
W intercroft wasn’t too far from the heart of London city. As they neared the jewel city of England and the early morning sun glittered off the River Thames, Devereux was enraptured. The structures this close to the heart of the city were built close together, crowded upon each other in some areas, but there were some lovely buildings that Devereux found very interesting. One of them was a beautiful abbey, which Davyss apologized for not being able to stop at. He was overdue at the Tower of London and could not make the king wait any longer, but he promised he would take her afterwards to see all of the pretty buildings to her heart’s content.
At Devereux’s insistence, Lucy and Frances were along on the trip, much to Philip’s pleasure and Nikolas’ indifference. Davyss had brought a carriage for the women because Devereux still wasn’t feeling particularly well and he didn’t want her riding a palfrey. So the three ladies idled away the trip in the carriage belonging to Lady Katharine, finding both the trip and the company agreeable.
Devereux was coming to know Lucy and Frances fairly well in just the few days she had known them. There wasn’t much more to do to occupy their time than talk, although Lucy brought a spectacular piece of petite poi to work on. It was a gorgeous piece of work of a woodland scene and she worked it very carefully as the carriage lurched and bumped over miles of road. She never even pricked her finger, which amazed Devereux. She would have cut herself to shreds by now. Lucy also chattered constantly, making it all the more amazing that she never stabbed herself with her sewing needle. Devereux leaned back against the cab, listening to Lucy speak on all things foolish, smiling faintly at her silly but sweet new friend.
Frances, however, was another matter. She was quiet, humorless and efficient, and would not warm no matter how much Devereux tried. Devereux wondered what could make a woman so joyless; having seen how she interacted with her husband, it was apparent there was little affection between them. Devereux wondered if Frances’ demeanor was the cause or the result. No amount of jesting or storytelling could coerce a smile from the woman. She was very serious and, Devereux thought, very sad. It was puzzling.
As she’d been told, Hollyhock was the Lady Katharine de Winter’s home in London, close to the heart of the city and downriver from Westminster Cathedral. It was a beautiful home that soared four stories into the sky, built of great blocks of stone rather than the wood and mortar that was so popular in the city. It sat on its own expanse of land along the river, guarded by a big stone wall, dogs, and a small army of sentries.
When Davyss brought the column to a halt in front of his mother’s house, he bailed off his charger and ordered the men to hold station. Like a mother hen, Lollardly began to take up his lord’s call and squawked Davyss’s commands to the entire group. As the old priest barked, Davyss made his way back to the carriage.
Devereux’s sweet face was the first thing to greet him; she was staring from the carriage window, drinking in the sight of the four-storied monstrosity before her. But she tore her eyes away long enough to smile at her husband as he approached.
“Well,” he glanced at the manor, gesturing with a gloved hand. “This is where you shall stay. Welcome to Hollyhock, my lady.”
Devereux was more impressed with this place than she had been with Wintercroft; Hollyhock was a home of astounding architecture and beauty. A lovely garden surrounded the home from what she had been able to see through the great iron gates with forests of colorful hollyhocks and foxgloves reaching to the sky.
“’Tis lovely,” she said sincerely. “I do not blame your mother for preferring Hollyhock over Wintercroft.”
Davyss gave her a lop-sided grin. “I can see that you do as well.”
She met his grin, shaking her head. “It is beautiful,” she insisted weakly. “Is your mother in residence?”
He nodded. “She comes to Hollyhock for the summer because everyone who lives in town in the summer usually leaves because of the moist heat from the river. She likes the quiet streets. Moreover, Mother swears the moisture soothes her skin so she prefers Hollyhock in the summer.”
Devereux, nodding with interest, moved to open the cab door but Davyss stopped her.
“Not yet,” he secured the door and kissed her on the cheek. “Wait here. I shall return shortly.”
Leaving Philip and Nik in charge of the women, he entered the stately gates of the manor and made his way to the front door. It was a massive door, made with strong English oak and reinforced with great bars of iron. He used the enormous iron knocker which, when pounded, resonated throughout the entire house. Eventually, the massive door creaked open and Davyss entered.
The entry hall was wide, cool, lavishly decorated. Fresh flowers from his mother’s garden were everywhere. It was an elegant home, just the way Lady Katharine liked it. Everything reeked of sophistication. He went into the room directly to his left, a massive solar, beautifully appointed, where his mother sat with her two little dogs. Her ladies lingered in the shadows, quiet as ghosts. Lady Katharine barely looked up from her needlework as he entered but the dogs barked furiously.
“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.
“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 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 acknowledged. “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 whispered 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 pointed out. “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 you 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 lifted 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 it 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 resumed 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. When they were done slamming the trunks to the floor and generally creating a ruckus, he returned to his chamber and once again shut 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.