Four knights were not enough to prevent Davyss from seriously injuring his brother. Only a blow to the head from a fifth knight disabled him, enabling the others to restrain him.
*
“Devereux? Did youhear me?”
In truth, she hadn’t. She had been daydreaming again. It seems all she had done was daydream since returning to TheHouse of Hope three weeks before, her mind no longer centered on the charity she supported.
Standing in the entry of the old barn, she had been gazing off across the green expanse of Norfolk and remembering the day when her husband had come riding into the dusty yard with his brother and knights. She remembered fearing the sight of him, being wary of his return. But Davyss had changed her mind in just a few hours. He had tried so hard to make amends for their rough beginning. It was probably that night, as they supped at the Fist and Tankard, that she started to fall in love with him. It was a feeling that had grown deeper by the day.
But she pushed thoughts of her husband out of her mind, wiping her hands off on her apron as she faced Stephan. She was supposed to be collecting eggs from the chicken house but she hadn’t made it that far. Stephan knew this; his fair face smiled at her.
“From the look on your face, I do not believe you heard anything I said,” his grin broadened.
Devereux smiled sheepishly. “I am sorry,” she said. “Just… thinking.”
Stephan’s smile faded. He knew what she was thinking of and he was still fighting the disappointment he felt. Disappointment that she had returned from London apparently very much in love with Davyss de Winter. Not that Stephan had ever had a chance with her and he knew it; still, her happiness hurt his heart somewhat even if he was glad for her. She seemed truly happy.
“I said that your father is here,” he repeated. “I saw his carriage arrive.”
Devereux immediately moved back through The House of Hope, dodging people and tables as she headed for the north entrance. Her father would not use the main entrance, as he feared he would be seen. He’d spent so much of his timeannouncing his dissatisfaction with his wife and daughter’s charity that he didn’t want to be perceived as a hypocrite to the townspeople. He had a station to uphold, after all. So he always came in through the less-used entrance.
St. Paul Allington had been a handsome man in his youth. He had faded blonde hair and gray eyes, and it was clear to all who his daughter resembled. He was standing outside the north entrance with two of his men, old knights who had served him in his position as Sheriff of the Shire for years.
Devereux emerged from The House of Hope, dutifully greeting her father with a kiss on the cheek. He was a petty, vain and selfish man who struggled to make correct and moral decisions. If it didn’t benefit him, he was more than likely not in favor of it. He only cared about his daughter’s marriage so long as it brought him prestige and honor. He didn’t even care if she was happy and he wasn’t even moderately excited about his impending grandchild. Devereux had struggled all of her life not to disapprove of the man.
“Greetings, Father,” she said pleasantly. “How may I be of service today?”
Her father gazed steadily at her, an odd expression on his face. “I came to tell you that…,” he suddenly turned to the pair of old knights behind him. “Here now, John; you tell her. You are the one who heard the news.”
For some reason, Devereux was put on her guard by her father’s statement. Something in the pit of her stomach began to rumble unsteadily and she didn’t like it one bit. She looked at the old knight.
“What did you hear?” she asked.
John de Ravensworth took a few steps towards her, bowing respectfully. “Lady de Winter,” he said. “You are looking fine this day, my lady.”
“What did you hear?”
Devereux was in no mood for conversation or pleasantries. John cleared his throat quietly, his gaze moving between Devereux, Stephan and her father. He cleared his throat again.
“I was in town earlier today and several of Norfolk’s knights were riding through on their way to Norfolk,” he said, somewhat nervously. “I met them on the edge of town to know their business, and they told me that de Montfort is now king.”
Devereux’s eyes widened. “What?” she breathed, horrified. “When did this happen?”
“Nearly two weeks ago, my lady.”
Devereux was quickly growing panicked. “What else did they say?”
The old knight shook his head. “They said de Montfort is now king and he is calling all of the barons to London. They were riding for their liege to summon him.”
Devereux could hardly breathe; she put her hand to her breast, feeling her chest heave as it became increasingly difficult to catch her breath.
“What happened to Henry?” she could hardly bring herself to ask. “What of my husband?”
John averted his gaze; he couldn’t even look at her. “Captured at Lewes, they said,” he replied hoarsely. “Edward with him. They made no mention of your husband. Henry is now a prisoner of de Montfort.”
Beyond horrified, Devereux took a step back, tripping on her own feet and ending up in Stephan’s arms. But she pushed him away, struggling to maintain her equilibrium and her sanity. The hands on her chest flew to her mouth.
“’Tis not true,” she muttered, bordering on panic. “’Tis not true, I say. I would have known before now. Someone would have sent me word. It cannot be true.”
