Chapter Sixteen #2
Her eyebrows lifted. “Me? How did I convince you?” She suddenly put her hands on his big arms imploringly.
“Surely you did not heed all of those things I said to you when we first met, about not believing in absolute rule or how I distained the knighthood because they used their power for war rather than unity.”
A smile played on his lips. “Are you saying that you were wrong?”
She pursed her lips wryly, unable to look him in the eye for the moment.
“I was wrong about a great many things,” she said, her expression turning earnest as she looked at him.
“But the most important thing I was wrong about was you. You are a great man, Davyss. You told me how great you were and I did not believe you. But you were right. And I was wrong about something else.”
“What?”
“You said once that most women would see marriage to you as a great honor,” she reached up to touch his face. “Your greatness does not come from your deeds or victorious battles. You could be a pauper and I would still consider marriage to you a great honor. It is the man I love, not the warrior.”
He kissed her hand sweetly, closing his eyes to the power of her words. He was deeply touched. “Thank you,” he murmured. “And I am greatly honored to be your husband. So much so that I would do anything to protect you, including ruin my reputation.”
Her gentle smile faded, his words bringing dread. “What does that mean?”
He held her palm against his mouth as he spoke.
“It means that Simon threatened to take you hostage unless I joined him. I could not allow this to happen; I could not take the chance of you becoming deeply involved in a deadly game. So I agreed to swear fealty to him on the condition that he leaves you untouched.”
Devereux stared at him. As he watched, the gray eyes filled with tears that spilled over onto her cheeks. She suddenly threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly.
“Oh, Davyss,” she sobbed. “I am so sorry; so very, very sorry that I caused this.”
He held her close, stroking the back of her head with one great hand. “You did not cause anything, sweetling,” he assured her softly. “I made the decision; not you. It was my choice completely.”
“But you made it because of me.”
He sighed faintly. “As I feel you warm and safe in my arms, I would make the same choice a thousand times over.” He pulled her back, holding her face between his two big hands as he fixed her in the eye.
“Had this happened before I met you, I would have died rather than switch allegiance. It would have been a matter of pride more than honor; Davyss de Winter cannot be coerced into anything no matter what the circumstances. But with you involved… there was no pride or honor involved. I made my decision solely based on the fact that I would do anything to protect you and my family. My agreement to Simon has allowed my knights to be released, my brother and I to serve together again, and has guaranteed your safety. To have thought of only me, and to have been stubborn about it, would have had negative consequences for everyone around me. I cannot only think of myself any longer. Does that make sense?”
She sniffled, tears fading as she digested his words. “Aye,” she replied. “But what does it all mean? What will happen now?”
He thought a moment. “I must return to London because Simon is convening all of the barons in England.”
Her eyes grew intense. “I am coming with you,” she told him firmly. “When do we leave?”
His brow furrowed. “But what about… well, what the physic told you?” he wanted to know. “Do you not need to stay in bed?”
She began tossing the covers off, her lips molding into a pout. “I am going with you,” she repeated. “There are just a few things I must pack and then we can leave.”
He put his big hands on her, stilling her motion. When she looked up, his handsome face was tense with concern.
“You know that there is nothing more in the world that I would wish for than for you to be with me at all times,” he said softly, firmly.
“But until I speak with the physic and hear from his mouth what your troubles are, you are not moving from this bed. Your health is of utmost importance to me and I will not risk it.”
She looked as if she was about to burst into tears. “But I do not want to stay here without you.”
He patted her cheek, rising from the bed as he still held her hand. “Do not fret,” he told her. “I shall find the physic right now and speak with him. Do you know where he is?”
She tossed off the covers again and jumped from the other side of the bed so he couldn’t grab her. She ignored him completely, snapping off orders to the red-headed woman still in the corner.
“Find Kerby right away,” she commanded. “Tell him that my husband is here and he will not take me to London until he speaks with Kerby. He has very important business in London that cannot wait. Go!”
The woman fled, nearly running down Davyss in her haste. When she was gone, Devereux smiled timidly at her husband, who looked the least bit perturbed.
“Dora will find him,” she said confidently. “Until then, I will get dressed so you will not have to wait overly for me.”
Davyss lifted an eyebrow, resting his enormous hand on his slender hips. “You will tell me why the physic has you in bed.”
She averted her gaze, moving with lethargic movements to the massive wardrobe against the wall. Pulling open the door, she pulled forth a white shift as she sighed heavily.
“Because I have not been feeling very well, as you know,” she said simply.
He regarded hers suspiciously. “The retching? The headaches?”
“Aye.”
“There must be more than that. He would not confine you to bed for an upset belly and headaches.”
She shrugged, laying the shift out on the bed. “And… well, I have had fainting spells.”
“Fainting spells?” he repeated, his suspicion turning to genuine concern. “Are they frequent?”
“Frequent enough. If I am too tired, or upset, sometimes I become overwhelmed.”
He was coming to understand. “And my being away has not helped your situation.”
She smiled weakly. “My worry for you has been great.”
He went to her, pulling her into his enormous embrace and kissing her forehead. “I am sorry, sweetling,” he murmured. “I know the strain has been difficult.”
She snorted softly, wrapping her arms around his narrow waist and hugging him tightly. “Compared to what you have endured, I am ashamed to mention my troubles at all,” she said. “They seem inconsequential.”
“Yet they are not. They are more important to me than anything.” He kissed the top of her head and laid his cheek upon it. “Will you please return to bed until the physic arrives? It would give me comfort.”
She sighed heavily and he knew he had her.
With gentle coaxing, he got her back into the bed and covered her up.
But she would not lie down, instead, sitting up and demanding he sit beside her.
He did without hesitation, pulling her into his massive embrace and holding her close.
And that was how the surgeon found them almost a half hour later.
He was a small man with red hair and a red beard. His movements were sharp and quick, like a little bird. He entered the room, his aged gaze falling on the crowded bed. His eyebrows lifted.
“That is why you find yourself in difficulties in the first place,” he was looking at Devereux as he pointed a finger at Davyss. He focused on the enormous warrior. “Lord de Winter, I presume?”
Davyss released his wife, eyeing the blunt old man as he climbed out of the bed. “You are correct,” he stood up, hands on his hips. “You have examined my wife?”
“I have, my lord.”
“Then tell me why my wife is confined to bed. I cannot get a straight answer out of her.”
Kerby cocked an eyebrow. “Because this child is draining her strength, my lord. If she does not rest, she may do herself and the child serious harm. But the difficulty is in having her obey me. She does not want to listen.”
Davyss listened to the old man seriously. “If I take her to London with me and promise that she will stay in bed until this child is born, would that be acceptable?”
The old surgeon looked at Devereux, who was gazing at him anxiously. After a moment, he exhaled sharply.
“This pregnancy is tenuous, my lord,” he told the man bluntly. “Your wife bleeds daily which tells me that the pregnancy is not secure.”
Davyss’ eyes widened. “Is that why she is fainting? Because she is losing blood?”
The old man shrugged. “Partly,” he replied, looking between Devereux and her husband. “Some women are better suited for child bearing than others, my lord. Perhaps your wife is not. With all of the blood she continues to expend, the child might already be dead for all I know. Only time will tell.”
Devereux sat down on the bed, facing away from them, and succumbed to quiet tears. Davyss passed a sympathetic glance at her before turning an angry one to the physic.
“I will take her to London and have the finest physics in England examine her,” he was already moving towards the old man as if to physically remove him from the room. “She and the child will be fine.”
Kerby could see how agitated the man was; he also knew who Davyss de Winter was.
With the king’s recent defeat at Lewes, the news of which was swiftly traveling the country, he was frankly surprised to see the man at all.
As the king’s champion, the man was powerful and legendary, now shamed by a stunning defeat at Lewes.
Much was happening in Lady de Winter’s life contributing to a pregnancy that was slowly draining the life from her.
The old man slipped from the room just as Davyss slammed the door shut behind him. With his hand still on the latch, Davyss turned to his wife, still seated on the bed with her back to him. He watched her shoulders gently heave, his heart heavy as he went to her.