His grin disappeared, the hazel eyes intense. “I did not kill my brother.”
“Then where did you go?”
He continued to gaze steadily at her. “On an errand,” he replied. “But you need not concern yourself with that. I am more concerned with your health. How do you feel?”
She did not press him on where he had disappeared to; there was no need to if he had not gone to murder Hugh. Devereux realized that she was simply glad to see him.
“Better now that you are here,” she smiled wearily. “My head pounds something fierce and my stomach is lurching like waves crashing upon the shore.”
His grin returned and he sat on the edge of the bed; she rolled into him, pressed against his thigh.
“Let me send for Lollardly,” he said. “He can give you something for your head.”
“Lollardly?” she repeated, confused. “Is he not your priest?”
“He is our surgeon also.”
She made a reluctant face. “Very well.”
He winked at her and kissed her forehead, sending Lucy, hovering just outside the door, for Lollardly, the man of many talents. She almost plowed into Frances in her haste, who was bringing food to Davyss. Since Devereux chased off the serving wenches, Lucy and Frances were doing double-duty. Davyss lifted an eyebrow at the near-collision, watching Lucy scamper off. Frances presented him with a large tray of edibles. Davyss took it back to his wife, who was now sitting up, albeit slowly, in bed.
“Do you feel like eating something?” he asked.
She peered at the tray he offered, noting the cheese, bread, small apples and some kind of meat. She made a face and waved him off as she climbed out of bed.
“No, thank you,” she stood up, weaving unsteadily. “I will get dressed and have you show me Wintercroft. I have not seen the entire place. Just the tower stairwell, you know.”
He couldn’t help but grin at her, the funny way she delivered the last sentence. He was coming to see that she had a delightful sense of humor. “I know,” he replied with a mixture of resignation and disapproval. “Are you sure you want a tour? Perhaps you should rest today.”
She shook her head, stretching out her stiff muscles as she moved for the bathing alcove. “I am fine,” she insisted. “Please eat your meal and I will dress.”
“I would like for you to eat something also.”
She mumbled something he didn’t hear as she moved into the bathing alcove. With a shrug, he delved into the meat on the tray. He hadn’t taken two bites when he heard her retching. Pushing the tray aside, he moved swiftly into the bathing alcove to find her bent over the basin, dry heaving. His concern returned full-force.
“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
She nodded, holding her hair back as she continued to dry-heave. When the heaves passed, she took a deep breath and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.
“I am fine,” she muttered.
“You do not look fine.”
Her gray eyes widened. “I look terrible?”
He noted the distress on her face and shook his head, putting his hands on her shoulders and steering her back into their chamber. “You are still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he assured her. “I simply meant that you are obviously not fine. Lie back down and eat some bread. Perhaps it will make you feel better.”
She didn’t argue with him until he tried to hand her the bread. She resisted until he put it to her mouth himself andgently ordered her to take a bite. She did, but chewed as if it was made of wood. Davyss was torn between the humor of her expression and concern for her physical state, but she managed to choke down four bites of bread before falling back to the bed and covering her head with the pillow. He did grin, then, and ate the rest of the bread as he sat next to her. He put his free hand on her back, stroking her hair until she dozed.
Lucy and Lollardly arrived some time later. The old priest had a bag with him and entered the bed chamber with Lucy in tow, his old eyes moving back and forth between Davyss and the lump under the covers beside him.
“Lady de Winter is feeling poorly?” Lollardly asked Davyss. “What seems to be amiss?”
Davyss looked over at the bundle of covers beside him. “Her stomach aches and her head hurts,” he said. “Give her something to heal her.”
Lollardly lifted an eyebrow and went to the other side of the bed for better access to Lady de Winter. He peered at the bump under the covers, trying to get a look at her without lifting any of the material. Finally, he gingerly reached down and lifted up the pillow. Lady de Winter’s disapproving face was looking back at him.
“Well?” she lifted an eyebrow. “Do you have something to cure what ails me?”
