by Jackie Ivie
Her voice stopped. Her face was probably flushed. He chuckled.
“Oh. That. I have quite recovered. I’m willing to put it to the test, if you’d like to ride more comfortably. And just think. You wouldn’t have to hold to me.”
“I am holding you for my own safety.”
“I wouldn’t hold to you for any other reason, either.”
“Enough of this. Spur your mount and get us to Hilde. I grow weary of your company.”
“Really? I suppose I’ll just have to give you more, then. That should prove interesting.”
“I don’t understand this at all.”
“What’s to understand? We’re alone. You can’t escape. You cannot hide. And I’m using the time to draw out a bit of information about you. What is so strange about that? Then again, it’s just occurred to me that I have to introduce you to my horde of siblings and I haven’t the smallest idea of how.”
“Horde of siblings? Horde?”
“I’ve siblings. Quite a few of them. All younger.”
“Is that why you’ve warmed toward me?”
“Oh, Bess. My dear. I haven’t shown you warm, yet.”
Shivers flew her limbs. Her heart swelled. Her throat went tight. Her breath hitched. None of it was caused simply by the liquid softness of his voice as he’d spoken. Devon had compounded that by placing his hand atop where hers were linked at his belt, as if punctuating his words.
This was too much. She knew her husband possessed great handsomeness. Physical strength and beauty. Surely it was too much of nature to add in a charming manner and lover-like turns of phrase? She’d never withstand him if he resorted to such under-handed tactics. She needed to say something to change it. She looked out over the swampland. Swallowed.
“You overrate yourself again, Hildebrand. You do that oft. Is it a family trait?”
“We’re much the same in looks, yes.”
“That is not what I meant.”
“I know. You are trying to insult, but I forgive you. It’s clear what you’re up to.”
“Really?”
“You are trying to draw me into an argument. Probably to show off your wits again.”
Bessie’s eyes widened. “Why...would I stoop to such?”
“Because an argument also helps with your feelings towards me.”
She gasped. Her heart stopped. Restarted. His hand tightened atop hers. This was terrible. And wonderful.
No. Terrible.
She used her coldest tone for the answer. “You are mistaken. I have no feelings toward you, whatsoever.”
“Oh, yes. You do.”
“Very well. I have feelings. They are disgust. Distrust. And dislike.”
“Well. I think if you’d lift your veil a fraction, we’d be able to disprove most of that.”
“I really hate to disappoint your lordship, but I’ve no inclinations of any sort toward you.”
“You’ve a strange way of showing it then, Bess.”
“Oh! I believe I prefer Mistress, although I’d not thought it possible, earlier.”
“Your hands are making fists against me. I am guessing it’s either to hit me or to keep from holding further to me. I rather fancy the latter.”
“I suppose you think the same of every woman?”
“Of course.”
“What an overblown opinion you have of yourself.”
“Overblown? That is harsh. Deserved, but harsh. But it’s not overblown, Bess. It’s honest. I look forward to proving it to you.”
“Why have you warmed toward me? Why? I haven’t changed.”
“I beg to differ. You are much changed. You’re no longer draped in ugly, mud-brown material, with a shroud about your head. You’ve a womanly shape that you’ve decided to exhibit. I am simply being properly appreciative.”
Bessie glanced down. She’d known the bodice was too low when Augusta had hooked her into it. She was grateful to be behind Devon. “This is what the maid brought for me. I didn’t select it.”
He sighed heavily, shifting her hands. “Oh, very well. Do you always win every argument? The reason I’m taking this path to Hilde is due to some advice I was given last night. It surprised me enough I decided to look into it.”
“What advice...did you get?”
“Perhaps I’ll tell you of it someday.”
“Why not now?”
“Tell me the shade of your eyes, first.”
Bessie’s smile faded. “I’m not certain I wish to know that badly.”
He sighed again. “My. My. You do win every argument.”
“I was not arguing.”
“You always argue. I’ve not spent any time in your company when you were in agreement with me.”
“Say something I agree with, then.”
“This really is marshy through here, isn’t it?”
“True enough. That’s a very good example.”
“My land won’t grow much of value, will it?”
“I...hadn’t given it much thought.”
“I still have the wheat and barley fields to the south. They’re productive enough. I know every inch of them, too.”
“Every inch?”
“I am the reason they’re harvested, my dear.”
At the endearment, a flash of something pleasurable hit her. Filling. Warming. Thrilling. Her voice carried it. She couldn’t think of one way to mute it. “I shall have to amend my opinion of you. I’d no idea you oversaw your property so closely.”
“Oversee? It’s a bit more than that. I work the plow, dig the rows, and swing the scythe. I didn’t get this large from lying about drinking ale, you know.”
He added to that statement by hardening parts of him she clung to. So...that explained his physique. Bessie’s eyes widened.
“You...worked your own fields?” she asked.
“Does that shock you? I hope not, for I shall have to take it back up shortly.”
“Why...would you do such menial labor?” Her voice was missing. He still understood it.
“I could not allow my family to starve. That is still an issue. My winnings won’t last that long.”
Oh dear! Her throat closed off. If she let her husband work the fields, she was worse than the lowest shrew. She had to tell him...at least part of it.
“It won’t be a problem, Devon. I have field-hands to do such labor for you.”
“You don’t have anything, darling. Once you wed with me, I became the owner of everything you have. Are you going to tell me you’re a rich widow? I admit the gown you borrowed from Stansbury Hall is attractive, but it’s not real. Surely, if you had holdings, I would have been informed when they were trying to get me to agree to this union. I am not that stupid.”
Oh! He just called me darling.
Bessie was reeling in place at the endearment. It took several long moments before she could answer. She counted eight of Black-Heart’s strides.
“Devon. I must tell you. I am not poor.”
“Wed to me, you are.”
“Please. Listen to me. I am not poor. I told you on our wedding night. This marriage could bring you much, if you but ask.”
“Wasn’t there a willing part in there, too?”
“Are you asking?” she replied.
“Well. A few shillings wouldn’t go amiss. How much property do you bring to me?”
“Most of my properties are entailed.”
“Alas, most of mine are, too.”
“I’m telling the truth. Why do you make light of it?”
“If you were wealthy, your hand would have been sought after. You wouldn’t have been available to wed with me.”
“I have many properties, Devon.”
“And a castle in the sky, too?”
“Have you heard of the Twin Keeps?”
“Place in the south with two, nearly-identical keeps in the middle bailey? Aye.”
“That is the one. I own it. Crump Castle, too.” It was on the edge of her tongue, but something stopped her.
Bessie kept Stansbury to herself.
“Ah. I noticed they treated you like the lady of the manor when we stayed.”
“You didn’t pay any attention to me, at all.”
“True enough, but since we’re telling lies, I decided to enter my own.”
“It’s no lie. I truly do own Crump Castle. And Twin Keeps.”
“You can’t,” he informed her.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because the court spent time there not six months past.”
“I know. I vacated it for the occasion.”
“That would explain why I never saw you. I was really drawn to the stained glass portions. They are identical in both keeps, although mirrored. Do you know what I mean?”
“Of course I know. I had it designed.”
The horse snorted for him. Bessie didn’t look around Devon to see why. She knew who held the reins.
“I am not amused, Devon.”
“You can’t own Twin Keeps, Bess, my dear, although it would be a rich dower, to be sure.”
“Why do you doubt me?” She was near tears. It sounded in her voice.
“Because when I admired it, Her Majesty said it could be mine. She said it was in her power to gift it to me, but she’d need a little time.”
“She said what?”
Bessie’s question ended with a stifled scream. She was afraid to add more. She straightened her back. Her teeth clenched. Her eyes went wide. Her hands were in knotted fists. She’d never felt so angry and shocked. She had to control it somehow. This reaction was worse than stupid. She, of all people, should be used to Queen Elizabeth’s scheming by now.
“There was more. I believe she mentioned Bargelle. That’s another estate near the Twin Keeps. I suppose you will claim ownership of that, too?”
“That’s where I hid while the court was at the Twin Keeps, you idiot.” Her voice was a harsh whisper, made through gritted teeth.
“You’re caught in a lie and how do you respond? By calling me names. That’s fairly childish, Bessie.”
“Oh! How I despise her! She schemes and entraps and acts like it’s nothing to play with other’s lives. I actually fell for it this time. I cannot believe my stupidity!”
“Who are we speaking of?”
“The queen, of course! Must everything be explained to you?”
“When you talk nonsense, yes.”
“Nonsense? I’ll explain everything. Please listen. Whatever you did, or did not do, it was of little import. She set this entire thing up! She already had our union planned when she summoned me to court! How could I have been so stupid?”
“Is being wed to me so horrid that you’d invent such a story?”
“You can’t possibly be this thick-headed.”
“I think I’ll leave off taking advice in the future. It doesn’t appear to be working. I was told my wife owns my dreams. What a horrid sentence that would be. I’d rather stay wakeful day-in and day-out. My wife is a veritable shrew, with a knack for telling nonsensical tales.”
“It’s not a tale.”
“I suppose the next thing you’ll tell me is that you own Stansbury Hall.”
“Of course I do!”
Bess was agitated. Her voice was rising. She had to take deep breaths to calm this reaction. She wasn’t known as an emotional sort. She’d worked her entire life at outward composure. A forced marriage to Devon Hildebrand wasn’t changing that. His back shifted with what sounded like laughter. That wasn’t helpful. She narrowed her eyes.
“And Whitehall Chapel? How about the Tower? Maybe Howell? Do you own those, too?”
“Just see us to your castle, Lord Hildebrand. Now.”
“It’s a bit delicate through here, Bess. Black-Heart has to pick his way. Don’t you, lad?”
The horse whinnied on cue.
“You aren’t planning on bogging your horse down, are you? I’d prefer to walk and allow you both to flounder. I don’t even think it would bother me.”
“Black-Heart would buck us off before he’d let that happen, wouldn’t you? See? He agrees.”
“You are a light-witted, very handsome, and charming fellow, Hildebrand. It has been an interesting three days knowing you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s an apology. I’m sorry I baited you with words. I suppose I could petition the courts for an annulment. She owns the judges, though. I might have to seek one in another of my names. She might not be able to stop—”
“An annulment? Whatever for?”
“To release you, of course.”
“You truly don’t wish to be wed to me?”
Devon swiveled so quickly on his saddle that Bess lost her grip. Devon was right about the ground, too. It was very marshy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Bessie couldn’t recall ever being so wretched. Nor so humiliated. Every step he took added to the misery. She covered it over with her cold, commanding voice. “I insist on walking. I do. Put me down.”
“You have slathered Black-Heart and me with mud. Do you think I wish the same on my floors?”
“I am used to having my commands obeyed, Lord Hildebrand.”
“You need to call me Devon.”
“Put me down! Put me down! Put me down!”
“Do you have to kick so?”
Bessie calmed her fit of temper with difficulty. She’d probably looked ridiculous as she’d arched her back and kicked. She was amazed Devon hadn’t dropped her.
“Ah. That’s better.”
“Stop treating me like a child.”
“When you stop acting like one.”
“I am not acting like one!”
“Of course you are. I should know. I’ve had the raising of my siblings since my mother died birthing Lizzie.”
“What of your father?”
“The plague took him. Earlier that year.”
“Oh. That’s...sad.”
“Sad or not, such is life. Why do you think I went to court?”
“To curry favor, of course. Do I look stupid?”
“No. You look like a mud-covered, shrouded—”
“Oh stop. And put me down.”
“But you told me to carry you, remember?”
“I did not! I distinctly recall it. I said nothing of being unable to walk.”
“Very well, let’s recollect. You fell. Then you sat in the mud and laughed. I think you were laughing, before you started crying. Then, you ordered me off my horse and said I was to assist you. I believe those were your words.”
“Assist me from the mud.”
“And I did, rather gallantly. I even carried you to Black-Heart. You didn’t argue with me over the carrying then.”
“If you don’t put me down this instant, I’ll scream.”
“You hadn’t much of a childhood, did you?”
“I’m the queen’s ward. I was raised at court. I spoke of it before. You should listen better.”
“You’ve quite a temper. Is that a family trait?”
“How would I know? I am an only child. I have no family.”
“Oh. Poor babe. There’s not a soul that cares where you are, how you fare? Or even if you live and breathe? That must be lonely.”
“I’ve an army of people that care for me.”
“Truly? And, where would they be hiding themselves?”
“At my estates.”
“You pay people to care for you?”
“Put me down, Lord Hildebrand.”
“Call me Devon. Ah. We’ve arrived. Hail, James! You saw us from the road?”
“We waited all day, Devon. What took so long?”
“My wife can’t keep a seat. I had to chase Black-Heart down. He wasn’t fond of carrying so much mud. I can’t say I am, either. She’s still covered with muck, as we speak. Make certain a fire is started in my chamber. And, James?”
“Yes?”
“My thanks.”
“Who is James?”
Bessie turned to catch
a slightly shorter, much leaner version of Devon grinning at her. James obviously didn’t work the fields.
“The fellow who is next in line to the title. That’s right, James. I have been lorded. I forgot to speak of it yesterday.”
“My congratulations, Devon!”
“James...is your brother?” Bessie asked.
“One of many.”
“How many?”
“Three or four.”
“You’ve three brothers?”
“More like four. And four sisters.”
Bessie gasped. “That...many?”
“My father was a lusty sort. I should warn you, ’tis a family trait.”
That was gasp-worthy, too. She managed to catch it, but the blush was beyond stopping. “Of all the puffed-chest! Arrogant—!”
“Never mind her words, James. She actually adores me.”
“She has a strange way of showing it. This is your wife, then? From the tourney?”
“The tourney?” Bessie asked.
“James was my squire. How do you think I got Black-Heart and my armor?”
“I hadn’t given it any thought. If I had, I’d have assumed it was borrowed.”
“I told you I was good in a joust, Bess. I couldn’t prove it in borrowed plate and on a strange horse.”
“I’m not giving that any thought, either.”
“Try harder.” Devon tightened his hold on her and that lifted her closer. And that felt terrible. And wonderful.
“She looks different,” James interrupted.
“Change of clothing. She lost nearly a stone of weight with that ugly brown gown. I am not complaining...especially given the view.”
Bessie moved her hand from his neck to her cleavage. Silently cursed Roberta and Augusta again. And herself. She’d known to make the veil longer! Bessie cleared her throat. “Put me down, Hildebrand. Now.”
“I don’t think she likes being carried.”
“When I need your help with my women-troubles, James, I’ll knock on your door. Besides, we are not there yet.”
“We’re well inside your home,” Bessie remarked.
“How can you tell? You haven’t looked about you.”
“I can see by the rafters. We’re in a tower, now. See, we’re climbing.”
“You don’t say,” he replied. And then he winked. Her heart reacted. The man was too handsome and much too charming. Especially at such close quarters. She could swear she even heard a humming sound. And then his brother spoke again, dissipating it.
