Hugh shrugged as they passed into the vast bailey with its collection of cooking fires and scent of men and animals. “He seems well enough.”
Lady Katharine didn’t say any more as the carriage neared the great all, a massive thing planted in the middle of the lower bailey. Its stone walls soared skyward and the roof was sharply angled, covered with a matting of pitch and sod. The enormously long lancet windows cast bright streams of light into the darkened bailey, the result of a massive fire in a hearth that could have easily fit ten men inside it. Hugh helped his mother disembark and escorted her into the hall. Her severely wimpled ladies, three of them, followed close behind.
There was one very big table near the hearth, large enough for fifty men. Servants moved around the room, lighting tapers and bringing food to the table. The hall itself was spartanly furnished with a cluttered dirt floor and dogs huddled in the corners. It smelled almost as bad as the bailey outside. Davyss was sitting facing the door when his mother and brother entered. He watched his mother come near, his expression unreadable, and took a long drink of his wine.
Lady Katharine reached the table and was helped to sit by Hugh and Nikolas. The bench was dusty, with bits of old food on it, and they brushed it off for her. Nikolas took her cane and leaned it against the hearth as Lady Katharine’s women took position behind her; never would they dare sit in her presence.
Katharine watched her eldest closely; there was something about his expression that had her curious as well as concerned. The man seemed to have difficulty holding her gaze which was unlike him. Davyss was, if nothing else, fearless and confident. He always looked people in the eye because he believed youcould tell a good deal about what they were thinking simply by the countenance of their eyes. Were she to use her son’s logic, his thoughts were not good.
“Davyss,” she accepted a cup of wine from one of her women. “You did not greet me at the gate.”
Davyss eyed his mother. “My apologies.”
He didn’t sound as if he meant it but she let it go. “Where is your wife?” his mother asked. “I have traveled a great distance to spend time with her.”
Something in Davyss’ eyes darkened; Lady Katharine saw it. After a moment of holding her gaze, he averted his eyes and took another swallow of wine.
“In her chamber, I would presume.”
“You do not know?”
He looked at his mother then. “I left her there some time ago. She was there when I left.”
Lady Katharine was growing edgy at her son’s evasive manner. She smacked the table and demanded her cane, which was brought to her by one of her cowering women. Cane in hand, she rose stiffly.
“Davyss,” she said firmly. “You will attend me.”
Davyss knew better than to argue, although he was fairly drunk and in no mood for his mother’s imperious manner. He knew what was coming. Still, he did as he was told; slamming his cup to the table, he went to his mother and gently took her elbow. He led her from the hall, out into the starlit night beyond.
The bailey was muddy with excrement, a stark contrast to the crisp and pure sky above. Lady Katharine was unsteady on her feet and the uneven walking surface nearly toppled her, so Davyss swung his mother into his powerful arms and carried her across the muck.
“Where did you wish to go?” he asked.
“Take me to your wife.”
Somewhere low in his throat, he growled. Lady Katharine’s eyes narrowed at her boy.
“What has happened, Davyss?” she asked, although there was no true force behind it. “Why is she not down in the hall?”
Davyss was not in a chatting mood and he didn’t feel like answering foolish questions. He would not look his mother in the eye as he headed for the distant, lonely keep.
“I do not know what you mean,” he rumbled.
She smacked him on the shoulder. “You know very well what I mean. Where is your wife and what has happened since you and I spoke at Breckland? Did you not speak to the woman and try to reconcile your rough beginning?”
He didn’t answer until they reached a portion of the bailey that was hard-packed earth. Gently, he set his mother to her feet. Before them loomed the motte and keep, stretching long and dark against the starry sky. Instead of escorting her forward, he simply stood there. Lady Katharine sensed great turmoil but waited patiently for him to speak. She was, in truth, surprised to see him so agitated, an unusual condition for the usually-cool man.
“If you must know, I fear that I have irrevocably damaged whatever chance Lady Devereux and I had of having an agreeable marriage,” he finally said.
“What did you do?”
Davyss looked at his mother, realizing that he was embarrassed to tell her. But he knew he could not avoid it. He averted his gaze, taking a deep breath as he tried to delicately phrase the situation.
“I consummated the marriage,” he told her. “It was not… pleasant.”
Lady Katharine lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
He grunted, scratching his neck in a nervous gesture. “I took her by force.”
