Chapter Nine #2
“Dismiss every female servant at Wintercroft. I want every one of these women gone, women who sampled my husband before I have. I will be greatly shamed if they stay as constant reminders.”
He nodded without hesitation. “It shall be done.”
“Before sunrise.”
“Immediately.”
He kissed her cheek and rose, snapping orders to Andrew, who was seated on the other side of Hugh. Hugh, halfway through his second helping of meat, heard the command and his dark eyes widened. He bolted to his feet even as Andrew moved to do Davyss’ bidding.
“What are you doing?” he grabbed Davyss by the arm.
Davyss gazed into his brother’s eyes, knowing he was going to have trouble with Hugh.
Hugh was a great connoisseur of women, perhaps even more than Davyss, and would undoubtedly bed at least three women before the morrow.
In fact, Davyss and Hugh used to be very much alike in that respect.
They used to have contests about it. Until now.
“My wife wants the serving wenches gone,” he told him steadily. “So they are leaving.”
Hugh’s eyes widened. “Why?”
“Because she is uncomfortable having women that I have bedded living in the same house and hold with her. I wish to make her happy so I am removing them.”
Hugh’s jaw flexed. “What?” he hissed, dropping his hand from his brother’s arm. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“I told you; to make her happy.”
Hugh couldn’t believe what he was hearing; he’d not talked to his brother in depth since they had arrived at Thetford to retrieve Lady de Winter, so he was well out of the loop of what his brother was feeling and thinking about the woman.
For all Hugh knew, the marriage was still only an unpleasant situation that Davyss must grow accustomed to.
He hadn’t even paid any attention when Davyss kissed and behaved attentively towards his wife.
He hadn’t cared in the least. If he thought about it, he hadn’t really talked to his brother in a couple of days. Therefore, the latest news was a blow.
“You cannot make her happy,” Hugh seethed. “We all know that she is a spoiled, arrogant bitch that will never….”
Hugh didn’t see Davyss’ fist coming until it was too late.
Massive knuckles made contact with Hugh’s jaw and the younger brother sailed over the table, right into Lollardly’s lap.
The priest, caught off guard by the flying knight, spilled food and wine everywhere.
Devereux and the other women shrieked as Davyss vaulted over the table and went after his brother with a vengeance.
It was a nasty brawl from the start. Hugh had no idea why he was defending himself from his furious brother and, after several hard punches, began to fight back.
Andrew put himself between Lady Devereux and the fight, not knowing the reason behind the brothers’ battle but wanting to make sure Davyss’ wife was protected.
Philip grasped his wife and Frances and whisked them from the hall while Nik stayed behind to observe the situation.
Young Edmund came to stand beside his brother, his eyes wide at the battle going on.
“What do we do?” he hissed at his brother. “Why are they fighting?”
Andrew shook his head, his soft brown eyes tracking the combat. “I have no idea.”
“Should we stop them?” Edmund pressed, distressed.
Andrew shook his head as Lollardly, still wiping wine off his neck and arms, barked an answer.
“Stay out of it, young Catesby,” he, too, was watching the rather brutal bout. “Whatever is troubling them, they must settle it.”
Devereux was watching in horror. It was clear from the beginning that Davyss was much stronger than his brother and he was delivering Hugh a righteous pounding.
At one point, he hit Hugh in the face and blood spurted everywhere.
Devereux was aghast; she suddenly leapt onto the table and screamed as loud as she could.
“Stop it!” she cried. “Stop it this moment! You are going to kill each other!”
Andrew went to grab her but she scooted out of his arm’s length, leaping off the other side of the table and running in the direction of the battle.
“Davyss, stop!” she hollered. “Stop this instant!”
Through his haze of fury, Davyss heard her terrified voice and paused. But his brief moment of cessation gave Hugh an opportunity to clobber him in the jaw. As Davyss spun away, he clipped his brother on the back of the head with an enormous fist. Hugh went down as Davyss fell to his knees.
Devereux rushed to her husband, her hands on his shoulders. “My God,” she breathed, looking at the blood on his face. “Are you all right?”
He nodded unsteadily, rising slowly on shaking legs. “I am fine,” he grunted.
Devereux gazed up at him, gravely concerned. “Are you sure?”
“Aye.”
“Why did you hit your brother?”
Davyss eyed Hugh, wallowing on the ground in semi-consciousness. “It does not matter,” he grumbled. “Come along; let us retire.”
Nik and Edmund had rushed to Hugh by this time, helping the man to his feet. Andrew stood with Lollardly as Davyss and Devereux walked slowly towards them; Davyss had his arm around his wife as if she could support his weight, wiping the blood from his nose.
“Are you sure you are all right, Davyss?” Andrew asked quietly. “Should I send the surgeon to your room?”
Davyss shook his head, almost knocking himself off balance. “Nay,” he muttered. “My wife will tend me.”
Devereux watched his face as he spoke; there was sadness and frustration and confusion in his manner. She could not fathom why; the entire event had been lightning-fast and frightening. In a new hall, in a new marriage, she was understandably distressed.
“Davyss, will you not speak with Hugh before we retire?” she asked softly. “Do not walk away from your brother angry. Speak rationally of your quarrel and settle it.”
Davyss wouldn’t even respond; he was emotionally as well as physically exhausted. But he did pause a moment, looking to Devereux before looking to his brother. Hugh was on his feet, barely, and glaring balefully at his brother through one good eye. The other was already swelling shut.
“You are mad,” Hugh hissed at him. “Mad and bewitched.”
Davyss twitched in his brother’s direction but this time, both Andrew and Devereux held him fast. Lollardly put himself in the precarious position between the two brothers, holding up his hands as if to push them away from each other.
“Hugh, you will curb your tongue,” he demanded of the younger man, then looked to Davyss. “Get out of here and let your brother cool down.”
Davyss’ jaw ticked as he glared at Hugh, ignoring the priest completely. “Do you understand why I punished you?”
Hugh gave him an expression that suggested he thought his brother was insane. “Nay,” he insisted strongly. “The only explanation is that you are mad.”
When Davyss spoke, it was through clenched teeth.
“If you ever question my wishes again, I will deal you worse than what you received,” he lowered his voice to a growl.
“I am the head of this family and this is my keep. You will not question my wishes, ever. And if you ever speak of my wife that way again, I will kill you.”
Hugh just stared at him. “Is that what this is about?” he looked truly stunned. “Because I called your wife a bitch?”
Davyss lurched again at his brother but Andrew threw himself in front of his liege, holding him fast with all his might.
Edmund jumped in, inadvertently shoving Devereux out of the way as he moved to aid his brother.
Devereux managed to scamper back to her husband, wedging herself between Andrew and Edmund, her small hands against Davyss’ chest. The brilliant gray eyes blazed up at him.
“Nay, Davyss,” she whispered firmly, an inkling of what was happening between the brothers sparking in her mind. “You will not hurt him. Let us retire for the evening.”
Davyss was staring at Hugh, an odd flicker to his eye.
Nik and Edmund pulled Hugh from the hall, away from his volatile brother.
Davyss just stood there, long after his brother was removed, before eventually sitting heavily on the cluttered table.
Devereux whispered something to the priest, who disappeared for a few moments, soon returning with a bowl of steaming water and a rag. Devereux thanked the man.
She returned her attention to her husband; he was bleeding from his mouth and had a small cut above his eye that was streaming blood.
She dipped the rag in the water and wiped carefully at his mouth, then his eye.
Davyss watched her silently, the hazel eyes riveted to her face as she worked.
Devereux did not look at him as she surveyed the damage.
“Well,” she sighed, fussing with the cut above his eye. “I do not believe I need to stitch this. It will heal well enough.”
Davyss didn’t respond; he was still looking at her. When the silence became excessive, she finally met his eye. He smiled weakly.
“Thank you, my lady,” he said softly. “Shall we finally retire? It has been a full day.”
He moved to get off the table but she grasped him, firmly but gently.
“Davyss,” she whispered. “Whatever has occurred between you and your brother, it is none of my affair. But I will say this; no one person or one thing should come between you and your brother. He is your blood. Everything else is secondary.”
Davyss’ gentle expression faded. He could see that she wasn’t trying to pry or tell him how he should handle the situation; she was simply offering her opinion. He patted the hand resting on his arm.
“Although I appreciate your advice, you will understand when I say that I alone must make that determination,” he replied quietly. “For now, I am exhausted and wish to sleep.”
“Will you not speak with your brother first?”
“Nay.”
“But why?”
“That is between me and Hugh.”