“I imagine it was very difficult to tell me this,” she said softly.
He lifted a big shoulder. “You asked for truth. I gave it to you.”
“I appreciate your candor.”
His gaze was somewhat guarded as he continued to watch her. “Maybe so, but does it change your mind about me?”
She shook her head. “Nothing has changed.”
His smile returned, this time one of relief. “You are most kind and understanding, my lady,” he said graciously, then froze. He looked stricken. “Do you consider those words to be empty flattery?”
She broke into soft laughter. “Nay,” she sobered. “They were genuine.”
He laughed with her, pulling her closer in the process. She was warm and soft and absolutely delicious. His relief, his joy in the conversation, was so great that in little time he was slanting his lips over hers, very gently. He couldn’t help himself. Much to his surprise, she didn’t pull away, so his kiss grew more insistent and one of his great hands found its way into her hair.
The intensity of the kiss did not increase; it stayed heated and curious, his fingers drifting over her face, acquaintinghimself with the texture of her skin and the shape of her jaw. The same hand moved to her neck, gently caressing, as his lips began to move across her cheek and jawline. He heard her sigh faintly and her body began to quiver, like the swift flutter of butterfly wings. It only served to excite him more.
Davyss took his time as he sampled his wife. He had never in his life known anything so soft and pure. Other than holding her in his arms, his hands never moved below her collarbone; they remained in her hair, on her face, against her neck. He’d handled her so caddishly the first time they had met and he didn’t want to repeat that mistake. He wanted her to become comfortable with his touch and hopefully learn to crave it. He already craved her almost beyond his ability to control.
Back in the smelly and smoky great room, the front door suddenly slammed back on its hinges and several knights spilled into the room, hollering for food and ale. It was enough of a commotion that Davyss tore himself away from Devereux long enough to realize that knights bearing the yellow and green colors of the Earl of Gloucester, ally of Simon de Montfort, had entered the tavern. He immediately set Devereux on her feet.
“Stay here,” he growled, his eyes tracking the movements in the room like a predator. “Do not stray from this spot for any reason.”
Devereux, her head still swimming from his delicious kisses, simply nodded her head for lack of a better response. She watched as Davyss entered the great room with his proud, stalking gait, making his way towards the men who had just entered. Hugh and Nik saw Davyss first, crowding in behind him as Lollardly, Philip, Andrew and Edmund shortly followed. The six most powerful knights in the arsenal of Henry III and one fighting priest faced off against the new visitors.
There were eight knights in total facing Davyss and his men. The knight in front was an older man with curly dark hairflecked with gray. He had a dark beard and a weathered face, but his eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s. His lips curled in a smile as he beheld the mighty and powerful Davyss de Winter.
“De Winter,” he said with satisfaction. “I should have expected to see you here.”
Davyss was as cold as ice. “You are in the heart of my holdings, de Reyne,” he said. “You must have a death wish coming here.”
De Reyne lifted his shoulders casually. “There is no law that says I cannot travel where I wish,” he replied. “We are simply passing through.”
“Passing through to where? You serve Gloucester and you are far from his territory.”
“That is none of your business, I fear.”
“I made it my business when you came onto my lands.”
De Reyne’s smile grew. “You needn’t worry,” he put up his hands in acquiescence. “We are heading north to Peterborough. We shall eat and be gone before you know it.”
Davyss eyed him; not wanting to create a brawl, which would undoubtedly happen if these men were denied a meal, he simply backed off. His gaze never left de Reyne as the man, sensing that de Winter was unwilling to instigate a battle, motioned to his men to find a table. Davyss watched them make their way into the heart of the great room before turning to his men.
“Do not let them out of your sight,” he rumbled. “Once they are finished eating, they are to be evacuated from this inn. Is that clear?”
Hugh and the others nodded. “Why did you let them stay?” Hugh wanted to know. “They will only cause trouble.”
Davyss scratched his head, wondering if he let them stay because his wife was watching. She had accused him of being a war machine and perhaps he was taking the opportunity to prove that he wasn’t some blood thirsty fiend who thrived onthe thrill of the kill. Under normal circumstances, he would have thrown the lot of them out and have taken great pride in it. At the moment, he couldn’t really answer his brother’s question and that frustrated him.
“Never mind,” he flicked an irritable hand at his knights. “Spread out in the room and watch them. When they are finished eating, I want them gone.”
The knights acknowledged the command but it was Andrew who suddenly caught sight of what he knew would be the trigger to a very big battle. He grabbed Davyss by the shoulder and turned him in the direction of the alcove.
“You will want them gone now,” he pointed.
De Reyne and two of his men were speaking with Devereux while the rest of Gloucester’s men commandeered Davyss’ former table. Davyss didn’t even blink; before he realized it,Lespadawas unsheathed and he was charging towards his wife. It was like a tide of death and men as it all rushed into the small, cluttered alcove.
Devereux never saw it coming.
