Swords and Shields (Reign of the House of de Winter) (21 page)

Cortez smiled, putting a big hand on Drake’s cheek briefly, a comforting gesture. “And I believe she already does,” he said softly. “Thank you, Drake, for admitting you feel something for her. Thank you for proving to me that you are the man I knew you to be, capable of deep feeling. If Lady de Winter has half the character I think she has, something we have seen over the past few days, then I am sure she will not be too terribly upset when you tell her the truth. Be honest with her. The woman cannot fault you your honesty.”

Drake was comforted by Cortez’s words. “I hope not,” he said. “Meanwhile, I have to go inside and tell my wife her suspicions were correct about the de Mandevilles and we are in for yet another battle.”

Cortez let him go, watching him as he disappeared into the keep and praying that Lady de Winter had some understanding for what was about to happen. Cortez believed Drake had made the right choice about Lady de Witt and he would stand by the man in all things, including what they were about to face.

He hoped Lady de Winter felt the same way, too.

There were feathers everywhere.

Elizaveta and Daniella sat on the floor of the second floor chamber that Daniella shared with Devon, both women with iron needles in their hands, stitching up a feather-stuffed coverlet from Devereux that had torn when Daniella had accidentally tripped over it. The woman had tried to contain the feathers but there was evidently no doing such a thing, so she and Elizaveta were trying to repair the damage done and capture the little white and brown feathers as best they could that were floating about the chamber. As they worked quickly to capture the escaped feathers, they could hear Drake out on the landing.

“What in the name of Bleeding Mary goes on here?” he demanded.

He stuck his head into the room as Daniella gasped. “Drake!” she scolded. “You must not take our Holy Mother’s name in vain like that. That is a terrible thing to say!”

He grinned at her, winking. “Great Bleeding Jehoshaphat?”

Daniella shrieked. “Nay!”

“Great Bleeding Christ?”

“Worse!”

“Great Fat and Bleeding St. Michael?”

Elizaveta burst into laughter as Daniella gasped in horror. “You are a terrible man for saying such things in front of your wife,” she said. “What on earth will she think of you?”

Drake, still grinning, looked at the laughing Elizaveta. “I do not know,” he said. “Wife, what do you think of me?”

Elizaveta shook her head as she put another stitch into the coverlet. “I think you are a cheeky lad who deserves a good thrashing,” she said. “I suspect your mother did not thrash you nearly enough as a child.”

Drake went to Elizaveta, putting a big hand on her head in an affectionate gesture. “I was always able to talk my way out of motherly thrashings,” he said. “Well, mayhap not always, but most of the time. I would simply blame Devon and Mother would beat him instead.”

Daniella rolled her eyes at him and continued her task of gathering escaped feathers. “I would believe that implicitly,” she said. “You have been terrible to your brother over the years.”

Elizaveta, still stitching the coverlet, grinned at her sister-in-law’s indignation before turning her attention to Drake, who had pulled up one of the chairs his mother had sent along and planted himself on it. He sat quite close to her, observing what she was doing with interest.

“What brings you into this feather-filled room?” she asked. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

Drake gazed down at her as she sat upon the floor, his humor taking a hit. So much for the light and meaningless talk; now he was forced to speak on the real reason behind his visit because his wife had asked. He couldn’t avoid a question like that.

He hadn’t been particularly nervous about telling Elizaveta about the de Mandeville approach until this moment and now, looking at her sweet beauty, he realized he was quite nervous. He had hoped to treat it all very casually but he simply couldn’t, mostly because he was genuinely afraid of Elizaveta’s reaction. She had, thus far, proven herself calm and reasonable in all situations that he’d seen her in, so he hoped that behavior would hold. He reached out, stroking her shoulder affectionately.

“I have come to see you,” he said. “I have something deep and meaningful and embarrassing to speak to you about. Dannie, will you give us some privacy, please?”

Daniella, who was picking features up from the corner, stood up and frowned at him. “Now?” she asked, irritated.

Drake nodded. “Please, love,” he said. “Just for a few moments.”

With a shrug, Daniella put her pile of feathers back onto the bed and quit the chamber. Even though the door was open, they could hear her going down the stairs. When her footfalls faded away completely, Elizaveta looked up at Drake.

“Should I stand up and face you for this?” she asked, a twinkle of mirth in her eyes. “Is it quite serious?”

Drake smiled. Reaching down, he plucked the needle from her hand and set it carefully on the floor. Then, he pulled her to her feet and maneuvered her onto his lap. His big arms wrapped around her as Elizaveta, thrilled at the close and warm contact, put her arms around his neck. It was a close and intimate position, one she liked very much. She’d never sat on a man’s lap before, not even her father’s, so this was rather thrilling. She almost didn’t care what he needed to speak with her about so long as he held her on his lap while doing it.

“It is quite serious,” Drake said. “I have a confession to make to you and I hope that you will respect that I am being completely honest with you.”

Elizaveta didn’t sense anything horrible; she was still sensing his casual humor. “I will always respect your honesty,” she said. “I hope you will always be honest with me, no matter what.”

He nodded. “I swear to you that I will,” he said. Then, he hesitated slightly. “I should have been honest with you yesterday about this but I had hoped for a little time to pass before discussing it. It seems, however, we must discuss it now.”

“Discuss what?”

He studied her, now at close range. He could see her dark lashes brush up against her brow bone and the pert curve of her nose. He paused to collect his thoughts.

“When we discussed what should be done with Lady de Witt yesterday, you and I advocated two different methods of punishment,” he said. “Do you recall? You were afraid that if I physically punished the woman, it would rouse the de Mandeville anger.”

Elizaveta nodded, suddenly feeling not so warm and humorous. She was feeling rather edgy. “I recall,” she said. “I did not ask you what happened with Lady de Witt. I assumed you would tell me when you had a mind to. What happened?”

Drake drew in a long, thoughtful breath. “I would hope that you would understand that how I respond to aggression, especially at a new post, is essential to maintaining peace,” he said. “The fact of the matter was that Lady de Witt lured you into a false sense of security before trying to kill you. She was defiant until the end, defending her need to kill you without remorse. I had no doubt she would try to kill you again if given the chance and this I could not allow. What kind of husband would I be if I did not eliminate an obvious threat against my wife?”

By this time, Elizaveta had lost all hope and humor. She stared at him, knowing exactly what he was leading up to. She could just tell.

“You killed her?” she asked.

Drake nodded, though it was reluctantly. “She was executed,” he said quietly, “as was her husband. I sent the bodies back to Westleton with a clear message to the de Mandevilles that any aggression towards me or my family would be thusly dealt with. It is my sincere sorrow to tell you that the House of de Mandeville evidently did not abide my message. A scout returned a few minutes ago to inform me that an army, heavily armed, is approaching from the south and will be here in less than an hour. Elizaveta, I hope you understand that I had to make a decision – although I respect your opinion on how to deal with Lady de Witt, you must understand that if I did not deal with her offense in a firm and deadly manner, it would appear as a weakness. I had no choice as I saw it.”

Elizaveta gazed steadily at him a moment before sighing heavily and climbing off his lap. Pensively, and perhaps with some sorrow, she contemplated his words as she moved to the lancet window that overlooked the southern portion of the bailey including the church and the village over the massive curtain wall. There were huge groves of trees so the view wasn’t particularly vast, but she could see some stretches southward.

“How big is the army?” she finally asked.

Drake was watching her very closely, fear in his heart that he was having difficulty describing. “The scout did not say,” he replied. “Your father said that the de Mandevilles have five or six hundred men, so I would imagine no more than that.”

Elizaveta was still looking out of the window. “Although I understand that you had to make the choice that was in your best judgment, I must reiterate that I told you the de Mandevilles are quite aggressive,” she said. “What you did… it was probably like fanning the flames. If their family honor is involved, where it always is when it pertains to the House of du Reims, they will not back down. I fear you have invited a great deal of trouble to our doorstep.”

Drake stood up, moving behind her as she stood at the window. “That is probably true,” he said quietly. “But I would rather invite trouble than run from it. That is not in my nature, Elizaveta. You may as well know that now.”

She turned to look at him, leaning back against the windowsill. “I can understand that,” she said. “You are a knight. You fight with Edward. Aggression is what you know.”

He wasn’t sure he liked the way she said it, as if it were something to be ashamed over. “I am very proud of my knighthood,” he said, crossing his big arms across his chest in a defensive gesture. “I am very proud of my accomplishments. There is nothing I have done in the course of my duties as a knight that I am ashamed of.”

Elizaveta shook her head, sensing she had offended him. “I did not mean it the way it sounded,” she said. “I simply meant that war is your vocation. It is the way you think. But it is not the way
I
think. I was hoping for a more peaceful solution to the situation.”

He could see that. Feeling uncertain, he wasn’t quite sure what more to say. He was afraid that the discussion might lead to an argument or, worse, anger on her part, so he thought it best to end the conversation at that point. He wasn’t any good in a serious conversation with a woman, mostly because he avoided them. It was difficult for him to be serious and to discuss things, especially his feelings, critically. There was a vulnerability in that, something he wasn’t ready to face.

“Then I apologize if I have disappointed you,” he said, for it was the truth. “I have come to tell you that the keep must be prepared for a siege, so you and Daniella should see to it immediately. You will lock the keep up and remain here until the danger has passed. Do you have any questions before I leave?”

He was being crisp and businesslike, and Elizaveta was sorry. She didn’t like to see that behavior in him where it pertained to her. She moved away from the window and went to him, putting her small hands on the forearms folded across his chest.

“You did not disappoint me,” she said softly. “I doubt you ever could. We simply think differently, you and I, and I must become used to your way of thinking. I have never prepared for a siege before but I imagine I need to bring food in here and make sure our well is clear and plentiful. Is there anything else I should do?”

He softened somewhat. “Nay,” he replied. “Except I would have you stay away from the windows. Projectiles have a way of finding them and I do not wish to see you injured.”

“And I do not wish to see you injured, either,” she assured him, the light back in her eyes. “Stay safe, husband. I will pray for you.”

He could feel the warmth from her again and he vowed at that moment that it was something he never, ever wanted to lose with her. It made all the difference in the world, lifting his heart as nothing had ever lifted it. He felt settled and calm, but fortified and powerful all at the same time. That was what her warmth did for him, the kindness and respect in her eyes. Perhaps there was even fondness there.

God, he hoped so.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, patting her hands. “I am sending word to Thetford for reinforcements, just in case. I am sure we will not have any difficulty, but I want to be prepared.”