He flashed a smile at her, a brilliant gesture that had sent many a maiden’s heart fluttering. But for Devereux, the gesture was genuine. He wasn’t trying to gain favor or make a woman swoon. He was genuinely glad to see her. He dismounted his charger.
“I would see this place that you have made famous,” he winked at her. “Would you show it to me?”
She blinked; he seemed almost jovial. It was not the sort of reaction she was expecting from him considering the animosity between them when they last parted. But here he was, standing before her as if nothing had happened and actually appearing happy. She began to suspect that the salt pork was more an offering of peace than anything else and something in her softened, if only slightly. She dipped her head graciously to his request.
“If that is your wish, my lord,” she replied.
“It is. And it is also my wish to have you call me Davyss, please. It seems terribly formal to address your husband as ‘my lord’.”
Stunned, she blinked at him. “V-very well, my… I mean, Davyss.”
He smiled at her. “That was not too hard, was it?”
A bit overwhelmed by the entire situation, she simply shook her head. Davyss took her elbow chivalrously and began to lead her towards the structure. He couldn’t help notice that she was having difficulty looking him in the eye but he wasn’t surprised; they had parted with indifference and hostility. He was, frankly, surprised she hadn’t ordered him away when he had appeared with the pig like some sort of offering to an angry god. Pleased that his gift of pork had produced the desired effect, he was determined to continue the momentum. Perhaps if he could bombard her with his overwhelming and suave personality, she would forget her anger. But deep down, he knew she wasn’t that shallow, yet it was the best plan he had at the moment.
“I hope you have been well since we last spoke,” he said pleasantly.
Devereux nodded. “I have,” she replied. “And… you?”
There was some hesitation to that question, as if she had been forced to ask it out of courtesy, and he fought off a smile. “Well enough,” he said, eyeing her lowered head. “You are more beautiful than I had remembered.”
It sounded like a contrived compliment that was uttered far too smoothly. Devereux sensed he was attempting to soften her somehow with sweet words and irritation began to bloom, with perhaps some disgust mixed in. They entered the structure at that moment and she extended her arm, indicating the warm, musty and crowded great room beyond.
“This is our main hall,” she told him, sounding rather clipped. “We can house up to three hundred people in here but today, we only have around two hundred. But that will change.”
Davyss noted the tone and was puzzled; what he had done already to provoke her irritation? For lack of a better response, he simply observed the dim hall with the straw floor and rough-hewn benches. There was no comfort to it whatsoever but in spite of that, the place was warm and smelled of hay and porridge. The combination was oddly soothing.
“Why will it change?” he asked curiously.
She looked at him. “Because the winter and spring were very difficult and cold. Most peasants in the area have run through their food stores.”
Lollardly, having followed Davyss into the building along with the rest of the knights, entered the conversation.
“Your charity work is well known, my lady,” he said with approval. “God will reward you well for your work.”
Devereux turned to the scruffy, smelly priest. “I would rather that God reward these people. They need it much more than I do.”
Lollardly gazed steadily at her, still seeing the defiance but now seeing something more. There was something wise and settled about the woman. He had known of Devereux Allington’scharity from the onset, but seeing it the flesh was a sight to behold. He wondered if it was having any impact on Davyss, the man who usually thought only of himself. Lollardly could see for himself how completely different Davyss and Devereux’s worlds were. No wonder she had fought this marriage like a banshee.
“God rewards the meek, my lady,” he replied, a bit more subdued. “Have no doubt he shall take care of these people.”
Devereux wasn’t sure what more to say so she said nothing. Davyss, however, continued to look around the room, littered with the old as well as the very young. He’d never seen a place like this, a place for charity where even the smallest bit of food was a matter between life and death. His version of life and death involved sword and battle, not food and shelter. But this was humanity as he was unused to seeing. It was simple, desolate and powerful. Without realizing it, he began to walk through the masses.
He passed by families with young children huddled around bowls of steaming porridge. They had the look of hungry animals. He passed by old couples who were sharing food between them. He watched as an old man fed an old woman who couldn’t seem to muster the strength to do it herself. The old man was very sweet with the woman, petting her cheek as if to remind her to swallow. As he watched the pair, Devereux sat on the bench next to the woman and reached out to take the porridge from the old man.
“Thelred, I shall feed her,” she told him gently. “You have not yet eaten. Go and get your meal and I shall take care of your wife.”
He shook his head. “Thank ye, m’lady, but I will tend the wife meself. We’ve spent a lot o’years together. She needs me.”
Devereux smiled faintly at the joy the old man exhibited; he seemed very happy in his life, something she admired a greatdeal. The man had absolutely nothing but as long as he had a roof over his head and food for his wife, he was content.
“Are you sure?” she pressed gently.
The old man nodded firmly. “We’ll be just fine, thanks to ye.”
Devereux patted his leathered hand. “As you say,” she said softly. “I respect your devotion, Thelred. Your wife is a very fortunate woman.”
The old woman suddenly vomited, spilling out porridge all over herself, her husband and some on Devereux. Devereux did nothing more than show concern to the woman; she called quickly for rags and between her and the old man, managed to clean the old woman up adequately. Devereux even helped Thelred direct the old woman to a pallet where they carefully laid her down to rest. The entire time, other than wipe her hands clean, Devereux never once lamented the fact that she had vomit on her clothes. She was simply concerned with the health and welfare of the old woman.
