Bessie (13 page)

“Does she?”

“No. ’Tis brown. Or so, she says. As she also claims to own several rich estates, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“You’ve not seen her hair?”

“Not yet. I will tonight, though. Never fear.”

“I’ll not allow you near me, Lord Hildebrand. You forget yourself. We are not staying wed.”

At her words, Devon turned from his brother and smiled slightly, if a bit sadly. “The queen herself united us. She’d see us both punished if we go against her wishes, and well you know it.”

“I have lived through her punishments before.”

“A fine time you are having of it, too. What do you think, James?”

“I think I’d best go see to a tub,” James said.

“Order one in her ladyship’s chamber, too. My wife will need it. Directly.”

“I have a separate room? Why didn’t you say so? I hope it has good locks on the doors. And heavy bolts. Then all my wishes will be fulfilled.”

“Why, Bess. Here I thought you didn’t care where I slept.”

Bessie opened her mouth. Then shut it. Oh. He was good at word games. She couldn’t continue if she looked at him. His steady regard seemed to send too many silent messages. She turned away and spoke to the footboard. “We have gone over that subject in some detail already, my lord. I mean, Devon.”

“I did not get a satisfactory word in, however. Let me be perfectly clear. Unless the redhead lass from the joust can be found somewhere in the vicinity, I will be exactly where I should have been two nights ago.”

“I am not saying another word. I’m not. I don’t care what word games you think I’m playing.”

“James? Go, see to the tub and cease gawking.”

“I’d rather hear about the lass from the joust, if you don’t mind.”

Devon rolled his eyes and turned to his brother. Bessie surreptitiously watched them from the corner of her eye. They were very alike. Devon was slightly taller. Broader. And watching him sent her pulse racing.

“Is there a hired servant for my own use?”  Devon asked his brother.

“I’ll find one.”

“Perhaps that’s best. I’ll need help with my own bath and I’ve tired of providing entertainment to you.”

“You’ll continue this at the sup, then?”

“Ask my wife. She’s the one carrying on word games.”

“I’m not carrying on anything, Devon. I’m tired. I’m covered with mud. I’m in a strange house, atop a strange bed, with a man who detests me, and tells me of it every chance he gets.”

“I don’t detest you, Bess dear. Truly. You didn’t come into my chamber last night or you’d have known of it.”

“If I’d done that, I would have known only that my husband is a cuckolding sort. That’s what would have happened. Nothing more.”

“Really? I wonder what makes you say that.”

Bessie clapped a hand to her mouth beneath the veil. Her eyes blurred with tears of mortification. She couldn’t believe she’d given herself away! She didn’t need the amused expression on Devon’s features for proof. How was this possible? She’d worked so hard her entire life to make certain she controlled her emotions and her tongue! But she’d never had to think so quickly, nor for so long, in her entire life.

“Well?” he prompted.

Bessie lifted her chin and faced him. It was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done. She sucked in a breath. Tightened every bit of her body. Strove for a calm, collected tone, one that wouldn’t give anything more away.

“Does James...need to stay and hear this?”

“He’s just leaving. James.”

Devon gestured with his head. James left the room. The sound of his footsteps receded, leaving the room quieter. More intimate. Almost frightening.

“Enough word games. Tell me. Please. Why do you say I’m a cuckolding sort?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m not saying I am. And I’m not saying I’m not. What I’m asking is why you say it.”

“I...saw you yesterday at the joust. With that woman.”

“Everyone saw that. I appreciated a beautiful wench. I did nothing resembling betrayal. So, why is it you’re so certain?”

She couldn’t think of anything other than the truth.

“Would you like me to answer it for you?” he asked softly.

Bessie swallowed around a knot in her throat. Her hands felt like ice. Tears kept surfacing. Her nose was running. She fought the urge to sniff, further betraying everything. She should have known her game was over the moment he held her in the carriage this morning and wouldn’t let her go. Devon was a tormenting sort to pretend all day he didn’t know she’d been the woman who’d given him her favor. It made her failure much harder to bear.

Now, he had all the truths.

And she had nothing.

“You came to me last night, didn’t you?”

“What?” Surprise halted any urge to sob.

“You came to my room.”

“No. I—” Her voice stopped.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. And that means you’ve more than a passing interest in me, and where I sleep. And, definitely with whom. Come on. Confess.”

Bessie sniffed, trying to make it sound like a disdainful gesture. “I did nothing of the sort!”

“That is not very convincing. You care. Admit it.”

“I care nothing for you, Devon Hildebrand, nothing! I wasn’t in your rooms last night, or any other night!”

“And, of course I believe that.”

“It’s true. I swear it!”

“I suppose the next thing you’ll be telling me is that you’re the redhead wench from the tourney?”

“I wouldn’t stoop to such a story.” 

Bessie sniffed again. And this time she tossed her head.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“This won’t do at all, Roberta. Find me something more concealing.”

“There’s but one other outfit I brought. See?”

“Why would you pack such gowns? I’ve no desire to display so much. I’ve also no reason to wear such rich fabric, either. I’m meeting my husband’s siblings and you’ve pressed court attire.”

“I fancied you were newly-wed and would wish to be at your best. I also thought your new family would appreciate your beauty, your good breeding, and your treasury. How was I to know you wanted to look stout, ugly, and poor? What magician was I supposed to ask?”

Bessie shook her head at her reflection. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

“Complicated?”

“Why can’t I just show him the truth? I could descend the stairs in this beautiful gown with my hair arrayed at its finest. I could, you know.”

“I am not the one who needs convincing, my lady.”

“If only he weren’t so wondrously fair! None of this would be necessary. Blast him!”

“I thought you possessed some sense. I see your time at court has taken all of it and tossed it out the window. The man was blessed with handsomeness, charm, and quite the presence...and you fault him for it?”

“It’s not that. It’s what he does with such...attributes.”

“Could it be a learned nature? The man is probably used to getting his way in just about everything. With just about everyone.”

“That’s just it! He does get his way. He expects it! And he has no regard for other’s feelings. None. He might be acting like a changed man, but you didn’t hear him in the carriage. Or on our wedding night. The man was...positively brutal. Help me with this neckline.”  Bessie tried to pull the lace higher.

“You were never as particular about your clothing.”

“Are you certain there’s nothing else?”

“I took the collar from it so you could wear the veiling about your head. What else would you have me do?”

“Find something thick for a wrap. A shawl, perhaps?”

“What do you wish me to use? The bedding? As heavy and concealing as it is, though, it’s probably not sufficient for you. I don’t understand this, at all. I thank my stars I was born a commoner. And a plain one at that.”

“I feel bare. I’m displaying too much skin.”

“That never bothered you before.”

“I never wanted someone to notice other things before.”

“What is it you wish him to notice? The shade of your veil? You’ve passed beyond sanity, my lady. You have. Truly.”

Bessie sighed dispiritedly, and sat on the edge of a chair. The dark-violet dress was correctly fashioned, from the wide high-waist velvet skirt, to the tight bodice with frills of lace about her neckline. It wasn’t Roberta’s fault the lace was designed to capture the eye, nor was it the maid’s fault the exposed skin was giving Bess trouble. She’d never been as aware of her own breasts before.

The veil she was intent upon wearing only added to her troubles. It skirted her shoulders, and barely covered her chin. It seemed designed to draw the eye to her bosom. Worse still, every breath she made was directed across her cleavage, raising goose flesh. It was unnerving.

“This is so stupid, Roberta.”

“As I’ve made mention already. So, what say, we send this plate of sup back, allow me to arrange your hair, and you set the entire family on its ear by appearing at their dinner in your God-given form?”

“If only it were that simple.”

“It is just that. He’ll be gratified to learn the redhead wench he speaks of is his wife. He’ll not look beyond that truth.”

“He speaks of the redhead? How do you know?”

“Blast my loose tongue! I swore I’d not say a word.”

“About what?”

“Perhaps I’ll just see to finding the garters for you. Those stockings won’t stay up by themselves. I know I packed a pair, or two. Now, let me see...”

Roberta busied herself in a trunk, while Bessie tipped her head to one side and waited.

“There’s a plain yellow set, and then there’s these. I don’t suppose you’d wish to wear anything so feminine and frivolous? No, of course, you wouldn’t. God forbid, someone might find out you’ve a pretty side.”

“What did he say?”

“Who?”

“My husband, the beauteous Lord Hildebrand. Remember him?”

“How can I forget? If it weren’t for him, you’d be decked out in your fancies and making my own breast swell with pride at the sight of you, instead of crouching in shame beneath the stairs.”

“You are not!”

“I might as well be,” the woman mumbled.

“Perhaps you’d best explain your words. Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“There are no sides in this madness. There’s barely a middle that I can tell.”

“Roberta.”

“All right. He told his brother about you. He wants to return to Stansbury so he can find you...I mean, her. He longs to convince her to leave a beastly husband for him. He obviously doesn’t know the beastly husband is himself. It boggles the mind, Bess, if you think on it. I don’t know what game you’re playing, I truly don’t.”

“How do you know this?”

“The walls have a way of passing words, especially if one leaves doors open.”

“You listened at his door?”

“We weren’t at his door, and no, I didn’t. He was speaking while he walked. Augusta and I couldn’t help but hear him. I’m surprised he didn’t note us. Augusta barely hid her laughter. She thinks this is a grand charade. I don’t.”  

“He talks of the redhead? Oh! This complicates things worse, if there is such a thing! Why would you hide such a thing from me?”

“I’m hoping you’ll tell the man the truth. You’ll not do it as long as your plan is working. Drat my loose tongue, again.”

“I did tell him the truth, Roberta.”

“Like as not, he doesn’t believe it, now.”

“How do you know?”

“Lies beget more lies, my lady. You’re too old not to know that and I’m too old to teach it to you. Unless you show the man the proof before his nose, he’ll not believe a thing you say.”

“I don’t need a conscience.”

“Your need list is longer than that, to be sure. You need another chance at this marriage. That’s what you need. Perhaps if you’d lifted your veil from the first, your man wouldn’t be mooning over a stranger he thinks he can’t have, that just happens to be you.”

“He moons over me, too?”

“Drat, and double-drat my loose tongue! I’ll slice it off, yet.”

“What did he say? What were his exact words? Come on, Roberta, give over.”

“I can’t believe my own mouth! I made Augusta promise she’d not tell you.”

“Tell me.”

The maid sighed. “Oh, very well. He can’t sleep anymore. His dreams are filled with the redhead.”

“Did he mention me?”

“I just told you he did.”

“Not the me from the joust. The me that he’s wed to.”

“How am I supposed to keep it straight when you can’t?”

“You’re avoiding answering me. That usually means I’ll not like the answer.”

“Will you be wearing the plain garters, then?”

“I think I’ll surprise you and wear the lace and ribbon ones. How does that sound to you?”

“Like a woman. How else?”

“Did he mention me, or didn’t he?”

Bessie caught the garter that Roberta tossed her way. Then she stood, hitched up her skirt and put a foot on her stool.

“He moons over the redhead. That’s all he spoke on. His brother, James, told him he wasn’t the only one.”

“James?”  Bessie was choking on the name.

“Does that satisfy you?”

“I want Devon to want me. That’s all I was looking for.”

“Well, your plan must be working, then. He does want you.”

“No. He doesn’t. He wants the redhead. Oh. This is terrible. It’s also wondrous, at the same time. Are you sure he never mentioned me? The wife me?”

“He may, but we didn’t hear it, if he did.”

“Not even once?”

“Put the man out of his misery, my lady. It would be so easy. Just lift that accursed veil. He’d be yours in a moment.”

“He’ll never be mine, Roberta. It’s too much to expect. The man hasn’t a bit of honor to his name. He’s already proved it.”

“You’ve not given him a chance! The poor man is damned in your eyes before he even wakes up.”

“He betrayed the queen, Roberta.”  Bessie said in as noncommittal tone as she could manage.

“I hardly blame him. Look at her. She’s an old goat.”

“Roberta!”  Bessie was laughing as she said it. Then, she sobered. “He betrayed me, too.”

“So? You’re a young goat, and one covered in ugly brown satin, with an old bed-linen about her head. I don’t blame him there, either. Give me one good reason why he should stay steadfast to you. You push him away every chance you get.” 

“I have to. You don’t understand. There are too many other women willing to please him. They are everywhere.”

“And what do you do about it, I ask? You give them the clear field. What kind of plan is that?”

“He truly does moon over her? I mean, over me?”

“So, he says.”

“Give me the other. Hurry. I’ve a family to meet.”

“You’ll show him the truth?”

“And lose the upper hand? What sort of move is that?”

“Perhaps it would be better if Augusta serves you, rather than me. As I mentioned, she thinks this is grand fun. I don’t. I’ll just go and fetch her for you.”

“You wound me to the quick, Roberta.” 

Bessie was smiling as she said it. It sounded in her voice. She knew the maid was teasing. Roberta may be unable to keep a secret, but she hadn’t a mean bone in her body.

She heard the door opening and closing as Roberta left. It felt an awful lot like a desertion. The garter was tight about her thigh. It had to be to keep tightly woven cotton stockings up. She started on her other leg. The door opened and closed again.

“They don’t make these things for comfort, do they? More like they’re sewn to make one miserable. That’s the purpose behind this design, I’ve decided.”

There wasn’t any answer, but she didn’t expect one.

Bessie smoothed the lace down, twirled it to put the bow in front, and looked up into Devon’s face. He was leaning against the door jamb with one leg crossed in front of the other. He had both eyebrows raised, and Roberta wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Bessie dropped her foot and smoothed the front of her gown as best she could. The veil didn’t hide her blush. She didn’t need the amused curve of Devon’s mouth to tell her of it.

“I would say they are designed to arouse a man’s interest. That would be my first thought.”

“No one asked you to think.”

“Are you surprised I can?”

He moved away from the wall and started walking toward her. Bessie didn’t back from him, which was a major victory, but he was causing the same reaction to her skin that he had in the stable. The neckline of her dress was probably showing it, too. There was nothing she could do short of covering herself with the bedding, just as Roberta had said.

Devon stopped on the other side of the stool and ran his gaze from the top of her head to her feet, and back to her face. He stopped at several spots. First, at her cleavage, next at where her hands still held to her skirt, and again when he reached her feet. It felt like a caress. It didn’t help that her breath was catching and moving again in rhythm with his.

“What...do you want?”

“You are missing the festivities held in your honor. I didn’t know it was because you couldn’t decide why garters were frivolous.”

“That wasn’t why.”

“Really?”

He pushed the stool from his path with one foot, and took up the space directly in front of her. He had access to his own wardrobe now, and it showed. Bessie couldn’t find anything to look at that wasn’t meant for that very thing. His jacket fit perfectly about his doublet, the sleeves ending at his fingers. Lace fell about them as he lifted his hand toward her. Bessie told herself to turn aside, but nothing on her body obeyed.

“Why do you still cover yourself?” he asked softly when his hand caught and held her chin.

Bessie’s heart skipped at the warm quality of his tone. Her breath caught. It surprised her. She had no reason for such a reaction. She already knew how wonderful his voice could be.

“I think it’s because...what are you doing?”

He closed the distance with a step. Bessie would have matched it, but her feet weren’t obeying, either.

“You’re not a widow. You’re a wife again. I think I’ve shown more longevity than your prior spouses, too. I survived a wedding night. My family applauds me.”

“Are you trying...to be amusing?”

Bessie was amazed she had a voice. Devon was nearly touching her. The air between them seemed alive with allure. Tempting. Dangerous.