“More than likely.”
Her eyes bugged and she suddenly propelled herself out of bed. “I must pack,” she said anxiously, motioning to Lucystanding just outside the open chamber door. “Come, Lucy, and help me!”
Lucy was as skittish as a bird. She flew into the room, following Devereux as she bolted into the bathing alcove. Mildly startled and slightly confused at the burst of activity, Davyss stood up from the bed and scratched his dark head at the crazed women darting around him.
“Your trunks have not been completely unpacked since our arrival,” he called out to his wife helpfully. “You do not need to fly into a frenzy.”
She rushed out of the bathing alcove with a small box of toiletries in her hand. “Aye, I do!”
He chuckled as she ran past him, towards the neat row of trunks against the wall. “I thought you were feeling poorly.”
She dumped the box into the trunk and whirled on him. “I am,” she insisted. “But that will not stop me from going with you.”
He watched her as she raced past him, stepping back so she wouldn’t run him over. “Are you sure?”
She disappeared into the bathing alcove. It wasn’t two seconds later that he heard retching again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Wintercroft wasn’t toofar from the heart of London city. As they neared the jewel city of England and the early morning sun glittered off the River Thames, Devereux was enraptured. The structures this close to the heart of the city were built close together, crowded upon each other in some areas, but there were some lovely buildings that Devereux found very interesting. One of them was a beautiful abbey, which Davyss apologized for not being able to stop at. He was overdue at the Tower of London and could not make the king wait any longer, but he promised he would take her afterwards to see all of the pretty buildings to her heart’s content.
At Devereux’s insistence, Lucy and Frances were along on the trip, much to Philip’s pleasure and Nikolas’ indifference. Davyss had brought a carriage for the women because Devereux still wasn’t feeling particularly well and he didn’t want her riding a palfrey. So the three ladies idled away the trip in the carriage belonging to Lady Katharine, finding both the trip and the company agreeable.
Devereux was coming to know Lucy and Frances fairly well in just the few days she had known them. There wasn’t much more to do to occupy their time than talk, although Lucy brought a spectacular piece ofpetite poito work on. It was a gorgeous piece of work of a woodland scene and she worked it very carefully as the carriage lurched and bumped over miles of road. She never even pricked her finger, which amazed Devereux. She would have cut herself to shreds by now. Lucy also chattered constantly, making it all the more amazing that she neverstabbed herself with her sewing needle. Devereux leaned back against the cab, listening to Lucy speak on all things foolish, smiling faintly at her silly but sweet new friend.
Frances, however, was another matter. She was quiet, humorless and efficient, and would not warm no matter how much Devereux tried. Devereux wondered what could make a woman so joyless; having seen how she interacted with her husband, it was apparent there was little affection between them. Devereux wondered if Frances’ demeanor was the cause or the result. No amount of jesting or storytelling could coerce a smile from the woman. She was very serious and, Devereux thought, very sad. It was puzzling.
As she’d been told, Hollyhock was the Lady Katharine de Winter’s home in London, close to the heart of the city and downriver from Westminster Cathedral. It was a beautiful home that soared four stories into the sky, built of great blocks of stone rather than the wood and mortar that was so popular in the city. It sat on its own expanse of land along the river, guarded by a big stone wall, dogs, and a small army of sentries.
When Davyss brought the column to a halt in front of his mother’s house, he bailed off his charger and ordered the men to hold station. Like a mother hen, Lollardly began to take up his lord’s call and squawked Davyss’s commands to the entire group. As the old priest barked, Davyss made his way back to the carriage.
Devereux’s sweet face was the first thing to greet him; she was staring from the carriage window, drinking in the sight of the four-storied monstrosity before her. But she tore her eyes away long enough to smile at her husband as he approached.
“Well,” he glanced at the manor, gesturing with a gloved hand. “This is where you shall stay. Welcome to Hollyhock, my lady.”
Devereux was more impressed with this place than she had been with Wintercroft; Hollyhock was a home of astounding architecture and beauty. A lovely garden surrounded the home from what she had been able to see through the great iron gates with forests of colorful hollyhocks and foxgloves reaching to the sky.
“’Tis lovely,” she said sincerely. “I do not blame your mother for preferring Hollyhock over Wintercroft.”
Davyss gave her a lop-sided grin. “I can see that you do as well.”
She met his grin, shaking her head. “Itisbeautiful,” she insisted weakly. “Is your mother in residence?”
He nodded. “She comes to Hollyhock for the summer because everyone who lives in town in the summer usually leaves because of the moist heat from the river. She likes the quiet streets. Moreover, Mother swears the moisture soothes her skin so she prefers Hollyhock in the summer.”
Devereux, nodding with interest, moved to open the cab door but Davyss stopped her.
“Not yet,” he secured the door and kissed her on the cheek. “Wait here. I shall return shortly.”
Leaving Philip and Nik in charge of the women, he entered the stately gates of the manor and made his way to the front door. It was a massive door, made with strong English oak and reinforced with great bars of iron. He used the enormous iron knocker which, when pounded, resonated throughout the entire house. Eventually, the massive door creaked open and Davyss entered.
The entry hall was wide, cool, lavishly decorated. Fresh flowers from his mother’s garden were everywhere. It was an elegant home, just the way Lady Katharine liked it. Everything reeked of sophistication. He went into the room directly to his left, a massive solar, beautifully appointed, where his mother satwith her two little dogs. Her ladies lingered in the shadows, quiet as ghosts. Lady Katharine barely looked up from her needlework as he entered but the dogs barked furiously.
“Mother,” Davyss went to her, bending over to kiss her wrinkled cheek and fighting off the happy dogs in the process. “You look well on this day.”
Katharine finished the stitch and gave him her full attention. “You have not come to tell me how well I look,” she told him flatly.
He lifted an eyebrow at her, folding his massive arms across his chest. “So much for pleasantries,” he muttered, then louder: “’Tis your guilt speaking.”
