Chapter Sixteen #3
“I will pack for you,” he said softly. “I will take you to Hollyhock and have my mother’s surgeon examine you. Do not worry so.”
Devereux wiped at her nose, her cheeks. “I… I am sorry I did not tell you all of it,” she whispered. “I did not want to disappoint you.”
He knelt beside the bed, his big hand on her head. “Sweetling, you could never disappoint me, not ever,” he kissed her wet cheek. “I told you that I did not need for you to bear me a son in order for me to love you. I meant it.”
She looked at him with her sad gray eyes and he kissed her again, pulling her forehead to his lips gently. Then he took her feet and put them back on the bed, pulling the coverlet over her.
“Now,” he tried to sound firm and confident. “You may lay there and direct me to your heart’s content. What must be packed?”
Devereux leaned back against the pillows, wiping at her nose. “You truly do not have to pack for me. I can have the servants do it just as well.”
He smiled at her. “You may never have another opportunity to order me around like this,” he winked at her. “I suggest you not let this chance slip away.”
She grinned at him in spite of herself, finally pointing a finger to the wardrobe. “Everything in there must go,” she said. “The servants have my trunks stored in the cellar, I think. There are four of them.”
Davyss swung into action and soon it was he who was ordering around a fleet of servants from the Allington manse.
St. Paul remained stationed in his solar, unwilling to get in Davyss’ way and unwilling to be roped into packing for his daughter.
He was secretly glad the man was taking her simply so he wouldn’t be burdened with an ill woman. He didn’t want the responsibility.
Even the knights were forced into service, lugging Devereux’s trunks to the wagon that Davyss had confiscated from the Allington stables.
Davyss wouldn’t let them into her chamber because Devereux did not want to be seen in her sleeping shift, so they stood at the top of the stairs as Davyss lugged out the trunks and handed them over.
Only Hugh wasn’t given a trunk to haul and that was because Devereux wanted to see him.
When most of the possessions were removed from her chamber, Hugh stood in the hall with a guarded expression.
Davyss finally reached out and grabbed his brother by the shoulder, dragging him into the room that looked very much like a woman lived there.
Hugh stood by the door and wouldn’t go any further.
He and Devereux regarded each other; the last time they had met was under violent circumstances. Hugh wasn’t sure if he was in for a verbal lashing so he stayed close to the door in case he needed to get away quickly. After a few moments of uncertain staring, Devereux finally spoke.
“I am thankful that you were not hurt in the battle,” she said.
Hugh’s gaze flickered nervously. “Thank… thank you, my lady.”
He was stiff and wary. Devereux glanced at Davyss before continuing.
“Hugh, I wanted to apologize to you,” she said.
“Back at Wintercroft, I should not have confronted you as I did. You were upset and I fear my attempts to soothe the situation only worsened it. Please understand what I did, I did so that you and your brother would not be at odds. It was not my intention to upset you further. Please believe me.”
Hugh stared at her, seeing an incredibly beautiful woman and understanding why she had his brother so smitten. But her apology had him confused and on edge. Women, at least in his experience, were usually very good at manipulating men. He couldn’t be certain that Devereux wasn’t making the attempt.
“I understand,” he said evenly. “Is that all you wished to speak to me about?”
To his right, Davyss grunted irritably but Devereux shot him a quelling look.
It was enough to cause Davyss to move away from his brother, finding interest in the view outside the window so he would not jump down his brother’s throat.
Devereux waited until he was well away before returning her focus to Hugh.
“We cannot go through life hating each other, Hugh,” she said quietly. “I wanted you to know that I was sorry for my words or deeds that offended you that night. I should like it if you and I could at least be civil to each other, for your brother’s sake.”
Hugh’s jaw ticked as he gazed at her. “You are my brother’s wife,” he said. “For no other reason than that, I will be civil to you. But do not expect more.”
Devereux watched Davyss clench and unclench his fists out of the corner of her eye; she knew he was working up his temper.
“Please tell me what it is I have done that has offended you so?” she asked Hugh. “Whatever it is, I will apologize for it. I will take the blame.”
“Blame?” Hugh repeated, incredulous. “Where shall I start, lady? The very first moment you saw me, you rudely slammed a door in my face. And that was just the beginning.”
Devereux thought back to that dark day in this very manse. It was jumbled full of emotion, but she remembered it quite clearly. As she did so, something began to occur to her.
“As I recall,” she began thoughtfully, “when I opened the door downstairs to find you standing there, you told me that it was my lucky day and if I behaved in a manner that pleased you, I could have both de Winter brothers for the price of one.”
Hugh’s face flushed a dull red as Davyss swung on him, his features taut with outrage. “Did you say that to her?” he bellowed.
Hugh began backing out of the room, the very reason he had refused to fully enter the chamber in the first place. He knew his brother’s temper. He wanted to be able to make a fast retreat.
“I… I do not recall,” he stammered. “I might have said something… but I did not mean it the way it sounded!”
Davyss was charging across the room towards his brother. “You bastard,” he snarled. “You hate her because she did not succumb to your foolish proposition? Is that it?”
Devereux bolted up from the bed, jumping on the mattress and taking a flying leap at her husband as he passed by. She slammed into him and he teetered off balance, hitting the wall as he threw his arms around her simply to keep her from falling to the floor.
“Nay, Davyss,” she begged, awkwardly clinging to him. “You will not strike him.”
Davyss was so furious that his nostrils were flaring. “Did he really say that to you?”
She nodded hesitantly. “But I did not give it a second thought, not until this very moment. It was not the reason I slammed the door in his face. I slammed the door because I did not want to marry you but we both know that has since changed.”
She was smiling by the time she was finished speaking and Davyss stared at her expression a moment before sighing heavily, possibly in resignation. He shifted his grip on her and carried her back to bed, gently laying her upon the mattress.
“You should not have done that,” he wagged a finger at her.
She looked up at him innocently. “What? Slammed the door in Hugh’s face?”
He scowled. “Nay,” he snapped without force. “Jump on me like that. You could have hurt yourself.”
“I shall do it again unless you promise me you will not charge your brother.”
He rolled his eyes but offered his irritated compliance when she pressed him again. His gaze lingered on Hugh, still near the door, before turning back to the window. When Devereux was sure he wasn’t going to charge Hugh again, she returned her focus to the younger brother.
“Hugh,” she began. “Let us be completely honest with each other. You do not hate me so much as you are angry with me; angry that I did not succumb to your charms the day you came to escort me to my wedding and angry because I asked your brother to remove the whores from Wintercroft. Is this statement any way untrue?”
Hugh’s brow was furrowed and he refused to look at her. “It… it was not your right.”
She gazed steadily at him. “You are correct; it was not my right,” she said softly.
“I did it for selfish reasons and for that, I am sorry. I did not want those women around because I was uncertain of my relationship with your brother at the time, uncertain if he would prefer me over them. Now that I know he would never do anything to shame me, I understand that what I did was completely self-serving. If I were to allow those women to return to Wintercroft, would it make you happy?”
He looked at her, then. He could see that Davyss had turned away from the window and was looking at him, too.
In fact, Davyss moved away from the window and sat on the bed next to his wife, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in the side of her head.
Hugh watched the affection, the completely adoration, in his brother’s actions and he was surprised by it.
He’d never seen his brother behave in such a way before.
There was something about it that made him strangely jealous.
He felt the fight, the anger, suddenly draining out of him.
“Perhaps,” he replied belatedly. He suddenly seemed disinterested and distracted, anxious to leave. “Is there anything else you wished to speak with me about?”
Devereux wouldn’t push him. It was the first conversation in a line of many she intended to have with him, so she let him go for the moment.
“Nay,” she replied. “Thank you for your time.”
Hugh’s gaze traveled back and forth between his brother and his brother’s wife before silently departing the room.
Davyss held her in his arms, thinking many different things at that moment; he felt like the most fortunate man alive.
Devereux had shown him so much of life that he had never imagined to exist, her wisdom and kindness without measure.
He knew his brother would come around eventually.
He squeezed her gently before letting her go.
“You tried to right things with him,” he said quietly. “I applaud your attempt.”
She wriggled her eyebrows. “I do not know if I did any good, but I hope so,” she said. “I should not like to be at odds with your brother for the rest of my life.”
“I am sure you will not be,” he said. “He will eventually see the error of his ways.”
Devereux kept silent on that matter; Hugh seemed to be even more arrogant than Davyss had been so she wondered if he would ever overcome it.
“Perhaps,” she said vaguely, changing the subject. “When are we leaving for London?”
He stood up from the bed, scratching his head wearily. “Do you suppose it would be too much to ask that we sleep here tonight and get an early start in the morning?”
“Of course not,” she said. “I will tell the servants that we will all be supping here tonight.”
“I can do it,” he was moving for the door, pointing a finger at her. “I want you to stay there and rest. Is that clear?”
She nodded obediently. “Aye, sweetheart.”
“Good.”
He winked at her as he quit the chamber, leaving Devereux alone in the room, smiling at the mere thought of him.
She could not adequately describe the joy in her heart for the man, the love she felt for him defying explanation.
She had so much in her life to be grateful for, and grateful she was.
Her happiness was nearly complete and she thanked God repeatedly for it.
Later that night, she miscarried the child.