“So, my lady,” Hugh began, well into his tankard of ale. “I would assume this is better fair than The House of Hope is having tonight?”
Devereux fixed on him with her big gray eyes. “Any food at The House of Hope is welcomed and appreciated,” she replied. “It is not an inn or a fine palace. We eat what God provides and do so happily.”
Hugh’s smile faded somewhat, glancing at his brother. “I did not mean to offend,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t fly into a rage. “I was simply… I suppose I was simply asking if the food was to your liking.”
Devereux struggled not to react to his arrogant stance. The man really had no idea what it meant to be hungry and homeless; he was a typical young knight with an over-inflated sense of entitlement.
“The food is very good,” she replied, trying to keep the distain from her voice. “Thank you for asking.”
Hugh looked relieved and turned back to his meal but Lollardly growled at him.
“Foolish whelp,” he rumbled. “The lady does not want to hear your ridiculous wit.”
Hugh glared at the hairy priest, a man who had known him since birth. “I was making conversation, old man.”
“You were making an ass of yourself.”
The knights snorted at Hugh’s expense, which only seemed to inflame him. But the laughter faded into awkward silence and Devereux returned her focus to her meal.
“Did the old woman recover?” Davyss’ voice beside her was low and sultry. When Devereux turned to him, puzzled, he clarified. “The old woman who became ill when I was there. Did she recover?”
Devereux nodded in realization and swallowed the carrots in her mouth. “Ah,” she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “She did not recover as far as I know.”
Davyss nodded, watching her mouth as she spoke; she had the most beautiful mouth, one he remembered as beingparticular delicious. “I would imagine The House of Hope does not exist simply to provide food to those who need it. I imagine tending the ill is just as important.”
She could see he was genuinely trying to carry on a conversation and her heart softened towards him, just a little. “We have more ill than we can handle,” she replied honestly. “A surgeon from town comes to help a few days a week, but much more is needed. We have an entire section of the building that is dedicated to the ill. In fact, we seem to have become the place of choice for the destitute to give birth to their children.”
Davyss’ eyebrows lifted. “How many children are born there on a daily basis?”
“’Tis hard to say; but we have at least five or six born every week.”
“Then you are an expert midwife.”
She looked at him before answering, knowing that midwifery was considered an inappropriate skill for noble women. It was unseemly and lowly. She couldn’t tell if there was disgust in his voice or not.
“The surgeon usually delivers the baby if a midwife is unavailable,” she replied evenly. “But if no one is available, then I am not ashamed to admit I have delivered my share of children.”
His hazel eyes twinkled. “I would not expect that you would be.”
“What?”
“Ashamed.”
She wasn’t sure how to reply but his gaze was warm upon her. Uncertainly, she lowered her gaze and resumed her meal. As she ate, she was unaware that Davyss was making eye contact with every man at the table, silently ordering them to find their meal and evening’s entertainment elsewhere. Hugh was the last to go, ignoring his brother’s request until Davyss kicked himin the shin under the table. Hugh grunted with pain, causing Devereux to look up from her food and peer strangely at him. He smiled wanly and excused himself, his gaze shooting daggers at his brother as he quit the table. At that point, Devereux realized that she and Davyss were alone and her eyebrows lifted at the sudden silence.
“Was it something I said?” she quipped. “We appear to have been abandoned.”
Davyss grinned. “Well and good. I find that I do not wish to share you with anyone tonight.”
She looked at him; her spoon was halfway to her mouth but she lowered it without taking a bite. Her gaze upon him was intense.
“My lord,” she said quietly. “May I speak freely?”
Davyss collected his cup, leaning back in his seat as if getting comfortable for what was sure to come.
“I wish you would.”
She nodded. “Very well,” she thought carefully on her words. “This is the first time that you and I have seen each other since our wedding. Our parting at that time was not the most pleasant.”
