Swords and Shields (Reign of the House of de Winter) (24 page)

BOOK: Swords and Shields (Reign of the House of de Winter)
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Drake was increasingly unhappy with the orders but there wasn’t much that could be done about them. “Great Bleeding Christ, I only just arrived at Spexhall,” he said, disappointment in his tone. “This was to be my holding, a castle to garrison for the crown, but now I am ordered to leave it as soon as I arrive? I am not entirely thrilled about that.”

William shrugged. “You were made garrison commander of Spexhall during the summer,” he said. “Plans change. They have changed yet again.”

Drake grunted, frustrated. “So I just leave it?” he asked. “I leave my post and my wife and trot off to Scotland?”

De Wolfe glanced at Elizaveta. The woman had her head lowered. “I would not leave her here,” he said. “After what you just told me about the de Mandevilles, send her back to Thetford to be with your mother. I most definitely would
not
leave her here.”

Drake turned to look at Elizaveta, who was sitting next to him looking at her lap. He was instantly fearful that all of this talk of departure and battle had upset her. He squeezed her hand.

“I have a new wife and a new post,” he said, meeting her eye when she looked up at him. He smiled. “I am not happy about leaving either, at least not so soon.”

Elizaveta forced a smile in return and Drake realized that he didn’t want to spend any more time in the hall with these men. He was going to see them for months to come. But he would not be seeing Elizaveta for months to come. The king’s new orders had made that impossible.

Drake had hoped he’d at least have some time to know his new wife, to explore the feelings he was already experiencing for her, but that was not to be. He was suddenly very eager to be alone with her, knowing it might be the last time for many months. The mere thought made him sick to his stomach, a sinking feeling he couldn’t conceal.

“Then if my departure is imminent, forgive me for saying that I do not wish to spend my final hours at Spexhall with your ugly faces,” he said, watching the men grin and Daniella stiffen in outrage. He lifted his hand to her, chuckling. “Not you, love. I did not mean you. I simply meant I would like to spend my last hours here with my wife, so you will excuse us. I will see you all at a later time.”

He was already standing up, pulling Elizaveta to her feet beside him. He climbed over the bench and helped her climb over it as well, hardly giving any notice to the men he was leaving behind. The smoky, smelly hall was full of men who were drinking and eating and engaging in games of chance. He saw more than one dice game as he made his way out of the hall with Elizaveta on his arm. There were times in the past when he would join in those games, but not tonight. Tonight, he had other things on his mind.

The evening outside was cold and bright and the fall weather was turning brisk. The trees were turning shades of orange and yellow as the leaves died, falling off only to be blown away by the blustery winds. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky as Drake and Elizaveta crossed the bailey under the bright half-moon, peppered with fires as men huddled around them for warmth and comfort, singing or laughing as they passed the time.

“The men seem very happy,” Elizaveta’s voice broke the stillness. “Are they always this way after a battle?”

Drake looked around at the men, most of them in the bailey from his personal forces. “There is something to be said for celebrating a victory,” he said. “Celebrating the fact that one is still alive. I do not begrudge my men the need to display their relief after a battle.”

“Relief?”

“Relief that they were not killed.”

Elizaveta understood. “And you?” she said, trying to sound casual. “Now you are going off to battle again, too.”

He clutched her fingers as she held on to his elbow. “Aye,” he said, sounding resigned. “That is my vocation in life. I am a knight and I go where Edward tells me to go and fight whomever he tells me to fight.”

Elizaveta hoped he wouldn’t tell her any more about it, information that she could pass on to
grandedame
. She was so torn with guilt at the moment that she could hardly breathe, guilt that she couldn’t seem to chase away no matter how she rationalized it. She struggled to wipe away the thoughts that threatened to consume her.

You will betray him….

“I have never been to Scotland.” She said the first thing that came to mind, anything to try and push away her feelings of guilt and that burdensome sense of duty that was hanging around her neck like an anchor. “My mother was born there but I have never been. I have heard it is quite a wild place and that they eat sheep bellies for sup.”

She made a face of disgust and Drake chuckled. “It is actually quite beautiful,” he said, “and the sheep bellies you speak of are more like sausages. They are stuffed and boiled.”

Elizaveta lifted her eyebrows in doubt. “That still does not sound entirely appetizing,” she said. “Mayhap I should send you with enough food so that you will not have to eat boiled sheep bellies.”

He had a half-grin on his face. “It is kind of you to be so concerned, but I will manage,” he said. “But I do not want to speak of that now. I want to speak of you and what you shall do when I am away.”

They were nearly at the keep by this point, the front entry gate of which was locked. Elizaveta used her free hand to fish the rope of keys out of her apron pocket and hand it over to Drake, who had to let go of her in order to open the gate.

“You told de Wolfe that I was to go to Thetford while you were away,” she said as he disengaged the lock. “Is that what you truly wish for?”

Drake yanked open the iron gate and admitted her in first before following and pulling the gate closed behind them.

“It is,” he said, handing her back the keys. “After what happened today with the de Mandevilles, I do not believe it is safe for you here. As you heard me tell de Wolfe, I do not believe that will be the last I see of them and I would hate to have them return while I am gone and you are here without me.”

They entered the room with the big hearth and the spiral stairs that led to the upper floors. There was a single taper on the table that was in the room, having burned down significantly and leaving sloppy drippings on the tabletop, but it was enough light to see by. Elizaveta picked it up as she began to mount the steps, followed by Drake.

“If I leave, who will remain here at Spexhall?” she asked. “I would assume that Dannie will come with me?”

Drake nodded, watching her swaying backside as she mounted the steps in front of him. “She will,” he said. “I will leave a small garrison of men here, the remainder of the troops that I do not take with me to Scotland. There will be at least a couple of hundred men.”

“And still I must go to Thetford?”

He grunted. He could see that she was disinclined to go live with his parents. “Truly, Vee-Vee, I would feel better if you did,” he said. “You will be safer there.”

She nodded as they reached the first level, which was where their bedchamber was located. “I know I will be,” she said, pausing before she entered their chamber. “But… but this is
our
home, Drake. This is where I hope we will raise our children. It is the first thing other than you that has truly belonged to me, where I feel comfortable, and I would hate to leave it only to be a guest in your mother’s home, not to live in a home of my own where I am the mistress. Does that make sense?”

He paused on the landing outside of their chamber, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. “Even after what happened yesterday and today, you still feel that way about this place?”

Elizaveta nodded eagerly. “I do,” she said. “I cannot explain it, but I do. This belongs to us and I do not wish to abandon it.”

Now he was indecisive about sending her away, scratching his head as he pondered the dilemma. “I was not going to tell you this but mayhap I should so that you will understand why it is I want to send you back to Thetford,” he said. “When the de Mandevilles arrived today, they had the bodies of Lady de Witt and her husband with them. They chopped up Watcyn de Witt and slung his body parts over the walls and then Edmund de Mandeville walked around with his dead daughter’s corpse, only to leave it behind when de Wolfe chased him away. The de Mandevilles are every bit as nasty and barbaric as you said they were, love. I do not want to leave you here, without me, with an enemy like that lurking not far away. It would make me mad with worry over you while I was gone.”

By the time he was finished, Elizaveta was looking at him in horror. “They… they threw pieces of that knight over…?”

She couldn’t finish. He didn’t let her. “Over the walls, aye,” he replied. “I took the parts and put them with Lady de Witt’s body. Tomorrow we will have the priests bury them together in the church yard. Now, do you understand why I do not wish to leave you here when I go?”

Sickened, Elizaveta sighed heavily, hand to her belly and disgust on her face. But the news he gave her didn’t seem to dampen her resolve that she should remain at Spexhall too much.

“I understand,” she said. “But if you are leaving two hundred men behind, that is a good deal of protection for me. And… and I could make this place truly a home while you were away. I have already started, you know.”

He cocked his head curiously. “What have you done?”

Elizaveta pointed at the chamber door behind him, the one that led into a smaller chamber adjacent to theirs. Drake came off the wall, turning to see what she was pointing at. Since it was fairly dark in the keep, with the only light being the nearly burned-down taper in Elizaveta’s hand, he couldn’t quite see what she was referring to until she went into the chamber with the candle in her hand. Then, the darkness began to illuminate.

The chamber, which faced north over the hall and kitchens, was furnished with a rather large table and a mismatching of three chairs. There were three pewter plates on the mantel above the hearth as well as a bucket stocked with peat and wood, a pewter pitcher with four matching cups with a “D” emblazoned upon them, and a small rope bed that was comfortably covered and fashioned with three big pillows. There was even an oiled cloth over the small window.

It was evident that someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to make this a comfortable retreat and Drake looked at Elizaveta, surprised.

“What
is
this place?” he asked, a reflection of awe in his voice.

Elizaveta smiled. “This is your room,” she said. “I thought you could use this as your solar, where you could meet with your men and administer your empire. Your mother sent most of these things with us but some of the items were already here, like the table. While you were on the walls today fighting off the de Mandevilles, Dannie and I were inside the keep, trying to keep busy so we would not be so fearful. We fixed this chamber up for you and Devon and the smaller chamber on the floor overhead was made comfortable for me and for Dannie. It is the private ladies’ room I asked you about… and I fashioned a private room for you as well. I hope you like it.”

Dumbfounded, Drake looked around the room again. He could, indeed, see himself meeting with his men or administering his command. He was deeply touched that she would go to the trouble to make a comfortable room for him but, in truth, he wasn’t surprised. She was a deeply thoughtful woman. His surprise gave way to joy. He turned to her with a smile.

“I like it very much,” he told her. “Thank you for being so thoughtful towards my needs. I am truly touched by your efforts.”

Elizaveta smiled brightly. “It was no effort, my lord,” she said, blushing sweetly. “I was very happy to do it for you. But now do you see why I do not want to leave? I have already started to make Spexhall our own and I do not want to leave, not when we have only just arrived.”

He could see her point and he wasn’t unsympathetic. Reaching out, he pulled her into his arms and tenderly kissed her forehead, holding her tightly against his big body. God, he relished the feel of her against him, more and more every time they touched.

“I understand and sympathize,” he said quietly. “But I must think of your safety overall. We will come back to Spexhall when the madness in Scotland has subsided and we will make it as grand a place as you wish. But I cannot, in good conscience, leave you here with the de Mandevilles out for your blood. I would be terrified every minute for you. Can you please understand that?”

Elizaveta was disappointed but, in truth, she did understand. “I do,” she said, resigned. “If you want me to go to Thetford whilst you are gone, I will. But I am saddened to go.”

He gave her a squeeze. “I know,” he said. “But it will make my life much easier if you do. I will not worry over you at all so long as you are with my parents. Unless, of course, you wish to return to your mother or even your father. I should have asked you what you would prefer.”

Even as he spoke, Elizaveta was shaking her head. “I do not wish to go to my mother.”

She said it with finality, the same disconnected tone she usually used when speaking of her mother, and he eyed her curiously. “Why not?”

“Because I do not. She has no use for me.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “I find that difficult to believe,” he said. “Any mother has use for her daughter.”

Elizaveta shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes. “My mother is not as maternal as you would think,” she said, “nor is my grandmother. Living with them is rather difficult at times. However… if it is not too much trouble, I should like to send them a missive telling them that I will be living at Thetford. My mother likes to know where I am even if she does not have much use for me. I promised her I would write to her after I was settled.”

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