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Authors: Jackie Ivie

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BOOK: Bessie
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CHAPTER FOUR

 

Devon looked up from contemplation of his fingernails as she entered. His face fell visibly. Bess tried not to let it bother her as he rolled his head back before looking back at his hands.

“Hello, Devon.”

It was difficult to find her own voice now that she was alone with him. The breathless sensation was stealing her courage and dampening her palms. Nor, was the sight of him encouraging. It had been whispered about court that the thick curls on the reigning favorite’s head were the result of a wigmaker’s artistry. Bessie now knew that for a falsehood. He hadn’t fully dried his hair before gaining the bed. Strands of dark hair were starting to coil atop his shoulders. Bessie choked as she realized he wasn’t wearing a nightshift.

He had the sheets hooked beneath his arms. Her eyes widened at the sight. He had a large chest. Muscled. She wondered when and how he’d gained that. Devon hadn’t so much as lifted a sword since arriving at the palace. Bessie was fairly certain of that gossip. Taunting him about the use of padding his doublet had been stupid. He didn’t need to accentuate that portion of himself.

Bessie colored at the memory of the rest of her taunt. She had to glance away to compose herself.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I’m your wife.”

“You are my never-ending nightmare,” he told his palms.

She watched him look at each one in turn before glancing back at her.

“You’ve a reason for standing there?”

“It is our wedding night.”

“I’ve not drunk enough ale to be forgetting that, Mistress...although I shall remedy it shortly. Regards.”

Bessie watched him reach for the flagon on the small table next to him. He lifted it to his lips and gulped a healthy draught.

“There are certain requirements of a wedding night, Devon.”

She swallowed as he pulled the tankard slowly from his mouth. Green eyes appraised her as he deliberately licked his lips. Bessie was grateful for the concealment of her entire outfit as her eyes widened. She couldn’t have hidden her open mouth, the strange tightening of her breasts, nor the blush that warmed her. He tongued the moisture from his lips with a gesture that made her knees wobble.

“Good Lord. I do believe you’re serious.”

He reached to replace his drink. The movement of his body beneath the bedding stilled her tongue and robbed her senses. She had to look away or remain mute. Her gaze moved to the region above his headboard.

“No sharp answers? No teasing about my...youthful appearance? Perhaps you’d enjoy remarking on my use of padding to improve myself? No?”

He was deliberately flexing his arms and chest as he said it. Bessie swallowed about the strange obstruction in her throat. He was too self-assured and cocky for his own good.
With good reason
, she reminded herself.

“Perhaps...I spoke a bit...hastily,” she stammered.

“Perhaps.”

She shouldn’t have come. It was painfully obvious even to the love-besotted fool she was rapidly turning into. “Perhaps I wasn’t the lone one who spoke in haste. Have you considered that?”

“You are offending my sensibilities now.”

He sneered as he said it. She didn’t have to drop her gaze to see it, his tone made it simple to envision.

“You are not helping the situation, Devon.”

“Need I point out that I am not the one in your bedchamber?”

The absurdity of it gave her pause. She’d been chased about the conjugal bed by the ancient Earl of Stansbury until he’d collapsed, yet, right now? With a man whose arms she’d leap into, she was being shunned. She took a deep breath and looked down. He’d not know of her inability to meet his eyes.

“You are my husband. You have certain responsibilities.”

“I knew I should have chosen the Tower.”

“Does this mean you’re refusing me?”

“Bluntness becomes you, my lady wife, but no. I’ll not have it said that Lord Hildebrand was unable to consummate his marriage. There may be those willing to sell rumors of my impotence to the crown, itself. I will not give her the satisfaction. ’Twas she who chose the harpy to wed me to.”

“You’ve a far blunter tongue than I. I’d not tell a soul of my fate as your wife, be it the worst horror I’ve yet to experience.”

“You’d have me believe marriage to me is your worst horror? I’d heard more of your past husbands to believe that. Beg off these words and lay with me. I’m as fit as any to withstand whatever you plan.”

He punctuated his words by lifting the cover. Bessie stumbled back from what appeared as an open invitation. The hooded eyelids and tight cheekbones gave away his disgust at it.

“I’d naught planned other than the lifting of this veil.”

Her whisper was barely audible. That’s what came of trying to make sensible words when glimpses of what could only be a naked thigh met her gaze. It didn’t help that Devon’s leg appeared to be as sculpted as the rest of him.

“Is that the way you usually rid yourself of your husbands?”

He let the bedding drop as he asked it, one eyebrow cocked enquiringly. Bessie had to swallow hard at the sight. Being tongue-tied wasn’t going to gain her what she wanted, but the moon looked easier to accomplish.

“My other husbands were men.”

He gave a slight whistle at her words. “Such a shame it must be to be saddled with me, then. You expect me to believe you long more to find yourself an older gent to satisfy your lusts on, then? Well? Why don’t you find one? I’d not stop you.”

She colored at his crudity.

“I did not come here for my lusts.”

“You expect me to believe that, too? An oft-wed woman such as yourself? Please, Mistress, credit me with a small bit of sense.”

She nipped her tongue to still the instant reply. She felt like thanking him. She no longer felt the breathlessness. It would be more satisfactory right now to hit him with something. With that thought uppermost in her mind, it was an easy matter to give him her full attention. He might be the most handsome man ever birthed. He may also have a physique that would awaken all the emotions she’d thought long-dead. Unfortunately, he was also the most unfeeling, crass, selfish, and uncaring man she’d ever had the displeasure of meeting.

“I have not got all night to await your pleasure, Mistress.”  He settled down among his pillows and regarded her with folded arms.

“I’ve already remarked on your witless state, Devon. I really wish you would refrain from proving it further.”

Those green eyes narrowed. She’d angered him. It was clear by the way he tensed beneath his quilts and the way his nostrils flared.

“You call me that without cause. I will not allow it farther.”

“I have cause. Isn’t our marriage proof?”

“You said it yourself. This marriage is punishment. As was my treatment last night. If they’d given me any time...perhaps this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Were you arrested?”

“Arrested? No. What reason would they give for that?”

He shoved a pillow to the floor as he said it. Bessie’s eyebrows rose. He didn’t think writing love notes to another would be offensive to the queen who adored him?

“You truly weren’t arrested?”

“Of course not.”

“Where were you then?”

“In my rooms. The guards came for me. I don’t know how many there were, though. Too many to fight. I do know that.”

“You know how to fight?”

“I am a trained knight, dear lady.”

“Truly? That raises you in my esteem. Not much, but it does.”

“Is there anything that would do the same for you?”

Bessie regarded him for long moments. “You may have been blessed with a handsome countenance, Devon, but the fates seemed to have stopped there. It has been balanced with an unpleasant and selfish disposition.”

“What do you mean ‘may have’?” he asked.

Bessie sighed loudly. “You see? That’s the only part of my words you heard.”

“Oh, I heard the unpleasant and selfish part, too. ’Tis entertaining love-talk you enjoin. Highly original. Are you trying to unman me? Oh, I forget. You think I padded my codpiece, too.”

Bessie choked. She knew he heard it.

“In the event you are still wondering...I don’t.”

Bessie’s eyes widened to their fullest. She couldn’t move. She could scarce breathe. The man had stolen every single thought. She’d not thought that possible.

“Are you going to stand there all night? Come to bed with me? Or leave?”

Her silence seemed to irritate him more.

“You are not even going to answer? Very well. Stand there. See if it bothers me.”

He reached over and blew out one of his candles, leaving two. Bessie found her voice.

“I will not stand here all night.” 

“Then, go. Makes no difference to me.”

He blew out another candle before swiveling in the bed to look again at her. With but one candle lighting him, he was even more amazing, if that were possible. The light cast shadows along his chest and arms and made his skin glow.

“Before I extinguish the last, might I ask you something? And will you answer truthfully?”

Bessie heart pulsed. She had to fight the movement to cover it with her hands. She finally nodded, making the linen that veiled her swish.

“Those men last night...did you have a hand in it?”

“Me?”

“Little else makes sense. Why did I need to be roughed up and threatened...unless you required it? You didn’t have to go to such lengths, either. On second thought, maybe you did. I wouldn’t have wed you otherwise.”

“I didn’t want to wed with you, Devon.”

“So you say. You also allude to punishment...but she was your guardian. What kind of arrangement allows a guardian for one as old as you?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Over thirty. Forty, perhaps. Older?”

Bessie’s mouth curved.
Over thirty?
she wondered.

“My. The gossips are more unkind than I thought,” she said finally.

“Well? Do you know what I’m being punished for? Those men last night said nothing. Not a blasted word! I’m kept completely restrained until Her Majesty’s Minister arrives and gives me a choice. All without one word of explanation.”

“You truly have no idea?”

“I already said as much. At first I thought it was because you desired me. You do have the queen’s ear, after all. Now, I don’t know what to believe. You say you don’t wish to be wed to me, and yet you accost me in my chamber. What should I think?”

“You honestly do not know?”

“I just said as much.”

“You have a wandering eye, Devon.”

“I’m being punished for appreciating beauty? For that, I have been cursed with a lifetime of ugliness? Where is the justice in that?”

He frowned and it made his swollen lip stick out. Far from making him look hideous, it made him look a spoiled, willful child. “I have drunk too much to sort this through at present. If you’ve no regard for me, and had no hand in the arrangement of this wedding, why are you still standing there?”

“You are my lawfully wedded husband.”

“So? Not all marriages are consummated.”

“I didn’t come here for that. I’m a widow, remember? There need be no blood proof of our union.”

“I am tired of listening. Find someone else to sharpen your tongue on. I offered you my bed, regardless of your ugliness. What more do you wish of me?”

“You say I’ve a sharp tongue, and I’ll not argue, but you slander me without cause on the other. What proof do you offer of this ugliness you continually toss at me?”

“Look at you. You still wear widow’s weeds. And why? If it’s to shield me from your beauty, ’tis most unnecessary. I promise you I’d not let lust overcome me, were you the most lovely wench born. I swear it.”

“Beauty is oft where least expected, Devon.”

He chuckled. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “My idea of beauty is not so foreign from the usual, I think. A womanly form. A face that doesn’t require covering. A tongue that soothes. Tell me you fill my needs and I’ll not fight you over this consummation you desire. If I drink enough, and if this candle is extinguished, why...I might even believe you.”

“I am not desperate enough for the act you describe.”

“You’ll allow me to seek my rest in peace?”

“If I leave this chamber, Devon, you will have to be the one who requests this.”

“Requests what? Arguments with a shrewish wife when I could be sleeping? Trust me when I say I will not bother you. Now or in the future.”

He was so smug. Bessie longed to wipe the satisfied smirk from his lips. Who was she fooling? She wanted to find out what a kiss from him would feel like.

“If you have need of a woman, you will have to come to me, Devon.”

She spoke with more confidence than she felt. The door handle was evading her and she refused to turn around and hunt for it. She wanted to make certain he knew what she was threatening.

BOOK: Bessie
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