“Oh,” she thought on that a moment. “What about your mother’s father?”
“Hugh.”
She threw up her hands. “Do you de Winters go along naming the entire family after each other? Where is the originality?” she demanded to his chuckles. “My father’s name is St. Paul and our son willnotbe named St. Paul. It sounds as if he should go around performing miracles.”
Davyss’ laughter grew. “We still have time yet. Do not worry yourself over it.”
She grinned in spite of herself, allowing him to reclaim her hand, kiss it, and take her into the massive keep of Norwich.
Norwich was truly a massive compound. The keep sat on the top of a natural rise that was augmented by a giant motte, surrounded by a deep moat and separated from the rest of the castle by an enormous drawbridge. Devereux had never in her life ever seen anything so large; not even the Tower of London, which was enormous in of itself. Norwich sat like a huge sentinel surveying the countryside and could be literally seen for miles in any direction as if daring someone to try and breach it.
The keep was cavernous inside. Davyss and Devereux had the master’s chamber on the fourth floor of the keep, a roomthat was probably as big as the entire House of Hope. It was monstrous. The soldier’s hall, or great hall, was situated on the second floor and covered more than half of the floor space while several smaller rooms, including a kitchen, knight’s room and garderobes, covered the rest of the floor.
As Davyss and Devereux entered the keep, Davyss handed the flowers off to Lucy, who happened to see them entering from the garden. As she happily skipped off with the flowers, he continued to carefully lead his wife up two flights of spiral stone steps to the fourth floor. Their chamber lay on the north side and he took her inside, hoping to convince her to rest now that her gardening was finished.
But Devereux had other ideas; once inside the chamber, she went straight for her massive wardrobe as Louie, the little orange dog, jumped frantically at her feet. She finally picked the little beast up as she opened up the wardrobe door.
“I would like to change my coat and go into town,” she informed him.
He eyed her. “Why?”
Her brow furrowed. “Because the last time we were in town, there was a new merchant from Brussels. Do you remember?”
He nodded and she continued. “He had fabric from Athens and all sorts of wonderful things. I want to see what else he has. Maybe he has new things that I have not yet seen.”
Davyss sighed heavily; it would do no good to deny her or argue with her, so he resorted to a tactic he had used much more as of late. He bargained.
“I will take you,” he said, “on the condition that you rest for a couple of hours first. Please, sweetling; it would make me happy.”
She gazed up at him, drinking in his handsome face. She didn’t feel like being particularly belligerent; not when he was trying so hard to be kind and gentle with her. The man hadbarely left her side for months and they were very much attached to one another, shadows that followed one another around in love and harmony. She couldn’t remember what her life was like before she met Davyss de Winter. She set the dog down and went over to him.
“Very well,” she kissed him sweetly. “If that is your wish.”
Davyss returned her kiss, putting his hand on her belly as he suckled her lips. There was something profoundly intimate and erotic about the gesture, feeling the life they had created together. He had been terrified to make love to her for the first three months but when Lollardly assured them that the pregnancy was secure, he had taken great delight in inspecting his wife’s changing body. Her gently swollen middle aroused him tremendously and he would turn her onto her side, facing away from him, and make love to her. All the while, he would hold her belly in his hands, feeling the fruition of their love. Never in his life had the act of sex meant more to him emotionally than physically. But it did with Devereux.
Even now as she changed out of her surcoat, his hands were all over her. She pulled the coat over her head, followed by the shift, leaving her in her pantalets and hose. Davyss gently pulled her pantalets off, followed by the hose, holding her from behind as his hands moved over her belly and breasts and his mouth feasted on her neck. He pulled his tunic off so their bare skin could touch, the warmth of attraction between them stark and strong. Bending his wife carefully over the foot of the bed, he lowered his breeches and entered her from behind.
Devereux groaned at his entry, sighing with contentment as he thrust carefully yet powerfully into her. His hands were on her rounded belly, holding the child gently as he made love to the mother, and in little time Devereux was climaxing in multiplicity as he continued to thrust. Davyss released himself into her body, his hands moving to her breasts, her shoulders,pulling her up and kissing her soft mouth as she arched her neck over her shoulder, surrendering to his seeking mouth.
When the kisses gently faded away, he went to one of the two massive wardrobes in the room and pulled forth another shift for her, this one heavier and made of pale lamb’s wool. It was as soft as a feather. He handed it to her and she pulled it over her head, straightening it out around her growing body. He helped her straighten the bottom when her growing belly made it difficult to bend over. Louie, not to be left out, tried to jump and play under the hem of the long shift until Davyss chased him out. Offended, Louie went under the bed.
“Now,” he took her to the head of the enormous bed and pulled back the coverlet. “Lie down and sleep. I shall return to you in a couple of hours and we will go into town.”
She didn’t argue with him; in fact, given their heated encounter, she was looking forward to resting for a while. Snuggling down into the bed, she began to mutter as he covered her up.
“We must think of names that begin with the same letter as our names,” she sighed, her eyes drooping. “Can you think of any?”
He put an enormous hand on her forehead as if to still her thoughts. “Shhhh,” he whispered. “Go to sleep.”
She closed her eyes, already beginning to doze. “I cannot,” she mumbled. “Not until I… think of a name for…our… son….”
She was very nearly asleep. Davyss removed his hand from her forehead gently, so as not to disturb her, and very quietly collected the tunic he had thrown off in the heat of passion. Pulling it back over his head and making every effort not to wake her, he slipped from their chamber.
He could hear men and noise coming from the floors below. It was suddenly very loud as he descended the steps into the soldier’s hall, and for good reason; it was full of men. Some herecognized and some he did not, but those who were unfamiliar bore the colors of Mortimer.
Davyss moved through the crowd of soldiers looking for Mortimer himself. He had known the man to be on the approach and was rather perturbed that no one had bothered to tell him that the man had arrived. In fact, when he came across Hugh, he told his brother precisely that.
“Why was I not informed of Mortimer’s arrival?” he grabbed his brother by the arm.
