Joust of Hearts (6 page)

Melisande took a large gulp of her wine then started to stand. “Nay, what else could there be?”

Devin reached out and caught her by the waist. He gently pulled her down onto his lap, her back against his chest. His breath warmed her neck and stirred her hair. A thrill buzzed through her like a bee flying in haste to his hive. She listened intently as Devin inhaled deep into his being.

“Let us explore those possibilities,” he whispered as he took her goblet and set it down next to his own.

“I—” Melisande began to protest, but at the same time, she felt heat creep up her back and gooseflesh crawl down her arms. At once, a boldness swept over her that she had never dreamed existed. Her discontent now cast aside, she leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder.

For a brief moment, Devin tightened his hold on her waist, his way of conveying a silent approval, she imagined. Then he glided his hands up either side of her ribcage and slid forward until his fingertips grazed her breasts.

At the first bolt of pleasure, Melisande lifted her head abruptly—part of her startled, part of her blissfully astonished. She refused to think as she maneuvered her legs around so that her feet were now resting next to him on the bench.

He slid one of his arms underneath Melisande’s knees and his other hand pressed into the small of her back, pulling her closer still. A groan reverberated from the man in whose embrace she was now captive.

She smoothed her hands up his fabric-clad, muscled arms and to the back of his neck, where her fingers tangled in his hair.

She looked into his eyes. The torchlights coming from the doors of Willowbrook’s great hall flickered in them. It made the moment seem like an illumination from some magical realm.

Devin leaned his head toward hers and gently took possession of what he sought.

Melisande’s eyes had closed, seemingly of their own volition, when his lips touched hers and a thousand flaming arrows sparked from behind her lids. She felt his hand float from where it sat at the small of her back along the silk of her dress and around to her side and beyond to ‘explore the possibilities’ of her breasts.

Liam had touched her many, many times before, but it had
never
felt like this.

Devin removed his other hand from under her knees and deftly slipped it beneath the neckline of her gown. His fingertips came in contact with her nipple. As he plied his fingers to the sensitive flesh, her moan reverberated against his mouth.

Melisande pulled away from the kiss and pressed her cheek against his, her breathing sharp and rapid. Suddenly the world shrank to include only herself and this beautifully bewitching man. She didn’t want to think, only feel. Her senses reeled out of control and yet were so focused. First she grazed her lips across his cheek.
So smooth.
Then she touched it with the tip of her tongue.
Salty-sweet
. Inhaling his scent, she became aware of his hand as it pressed hard against her beating heart. What would it be like to have his entire body unclothed and melded against her own, flesh to flesh? She placed little kisses across his cheek until she found his ear. She left a tiny kiss on his earlobe then drew the flesh between her teeth, teasing it with her tongue.

He stilled his hand and she hoped it was because of the sensation she was causing as she explored him.

“You are heating the very blood coursing through my veins to molten steel,” he whispered.

“Melisande. Melisande?” A voice called out to her from far away, pulling them from their cocoon of intimacy. He hissed an inhalation through his teeth and she groaned, both unwilling to be thrust back into reality.

“I want more.”

She could detect a sort of passionate pain in his words.

“And I want more time with you as well.” Melisande couldn’t bring herself to openly confess to him that she felt as if she’d discovered a new world—a world she very much wanted to further investigate.

“Melisande?” The appeal was much louder than before.

“’Tis Helena and she’s coming closer.” His hand slipped from inside her bodice as she leaped from his lap.

“Wait—” He attempted a protest but she wouldn’t allow herself to be caught in such a base position by Helena.

“I am here. What do you require of me?” Melisande called out, her voice higher in pitch than normal.

“Come, join the other musicians and play your lute,” Helena said from somewhere in the courtyard.

She mustn’t find me here like this!
Panic threatened to overtake her. “I will be there directly,” she promised, straightening her garments.

Devin stood. “Must you go now?”

“Aye, I must. ’Twas the lady herself who called for me. Are you coming?”

“I have not had that chance yet.”

“You—” Melisande clamped her lips shut, catching his jest a little late. She peered up at him as she hurried by and caught his grin in the dim light.

“Fear naught, Lady Dupree. I shall join thee by and by.”

Inside, Melisande still felt short of breath as she approached the other musicians. One of her maids had brought down her lute and set it on a stool for her upon the gallery. She wanted to get this over with, for she felt that everyone saw the color of fire in her cheeks that likely accompanied the heat radiating from her person.

She half-heartedly played through the piece. At one point, she looked up and saw Devin leaning against the portal to where they had been unchaperoned. Her hands shook through the rest of the arietta.

The audience applauded. Melisande curtsied and made her way quickly to Helena.

“That was splendid,” Helena complimented as she took Melisande’s hands and pulled her closer. Lowering her voice, she said, “I can tell I have interrupted something. Do forgive me. I shall be more cautious in the future.”

“I know naught of what you speak,” Melisande denied, sweeping aside unseen wrinkles from the front of her robes.
Did I think I could hide my behavior from this woman or anyone else for that matter?
Guilt threatened to overcome her.
Dear God, I should never have…

“So, I see you have met our special guest,” Helena said over Melisande’s head.

Melisande whirled around and came face to chest with Devin. Her eyes made a gradual ascent to meet his. She tried to swallow, but her dry mouth would not permit it, so she gave him a polite smile.

Devin returned her smile with triple the enthusiasm. He handed her a goblet of wine, the one he’d taken from her so they could embrace. She took a sip as she couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Aye, we exchanged…words.”

“Then you know Devin is—”

“Very anxious to get back to our conversation.” He finished Helena’s sentence and looked down into Melisande’s eyes pointedly.

Lord Bergavny joined the group and asked Melisande for the next dance just as she opened her mouth to respond to Devin’s brazen comment.

Melisande swallowed her discourse, which she knew would surely have put Devin back in his place. “I would enjoy that very much, Lord Bergavny,” she replied, passing the goblet back to Devin and tearing her gaze from his. She felt a barrage of emotions assault her. Devin had gotten away with far more verbal insinuation than was polite.
He is awfully arrogant. How could he have hinted like that to Lady Helena, of all people, that we were having a ‘conversation’? Why, it simply reeks of tomfoolery.
Melisande refused to have Helena think ill of her. She pushed all that aside for now and managed to smile at Lord Bergavny.

“Pray excuse us.” He nodded to Devin and Helena, and Melisande placed her hand atop his proffered arm.

Devin watched Melisande being led toward the other dancers. Thinking quickly, he passed the used goblets into the hands of a passing servant, and turned to Helena. “Would you permit me, Lady Bergavny?” He lifted a solicitous elbow to Helena, which she took.

“I shall, Sir Devin.” She smiled then added, “You have shaved your beard. I don’t believe I have seen your chin since first your whiskers grew in. How long has it been? Mayhaps a score of years or so?” she cajoled with a sly grin.

Devin chuckled and looked out toward the others preparing to dance. “Surely not a full score, my lady, for I am not yet twenty and nine.”

Helena laughed. “You know I do but jest. I remember when you came to us as if it were yesterday. It was just days after Henry VII was crowned King of England, and you were a young squire having aided Fitzherbert and his allies in the battle for Willowbrook. I recall when Henry gave the castle and its immense property to Fitzherbert. However, there seemed to be a bit of confusion over ownership.”

“This is one of your favorite stories, my lady, or have you perhaps forgotten that I was there?” Now it was his turn to taunt her.

“Aye, indeed, you impudent boy.” She grinned then sobered. “It was also the most frightening time of my life. But once the day was won, Fitzherbert requested of your sponsor that you stay on at Willowbrook with us. He agreed and, as young as you were, Fitzherbert knighted you in tribute of the victory.”

“It was and still is an honor I shall be eternally grateful for.” He bowed to her, but as the music began, his thoughts strayed. After much training and once he became of age, he’d traveled from Willowbrook to some of the more local tourneys, then to London, applying his skills of riding and wenching, as was his wont to do.

The king had initially wished to reward his comrade just after Bosworth, and had offered a dukedom to Fitzherbert. He had been honored by the king’s generosity. However, he’d explained to Henry that it was his fervent wish to retire without being tied to the tasks that accompanied the offered rank. Henry had sympathized but, regardless, given Fitzherbert a peer’s title.

Several steps into the dance, Devin glanced around to find Melisande.

As the ladies followed each other in a close circle, the men circumnavigated in the opposite direction from without.

One of the ladies addressed Melisande. “Will you be joining us for dinner out on the east lawns at noontime tomorrow?”

Melisande looked to Helena, who followed behind. Helena nodded.

“I will be in attendance, aye,” Melisande confirmed, and inclined her head at the woman who had enquired.

“Will you be entertaining us further?” one of the other women asked.

Melisande again looked to Helena for an answer to the question and Helena spoke up. “Melisande is a guest here at Willowbrook as you yourselves are. She will not be performing at every turn.”

“Oh aye.”

“By all means.”

“We do agree.”

After a few moments passed, Melisande spoke softly to Helena. “After these rounds are finished, would you escort me to my chamber?”

“Of course, Melisande. You are not feeling ill, are you?”

“Not at all. Merely tired.”

The women expanded the circle to intertwine with the men.

As Devin passed Melisande, he whispered, “I must see you tonight.” Their gazes never left each other’s as they threaded their way through the other dancers. She shook her head, hoping that he understood her refusal.

They met again. “But why?” he pleaded quietly.

“I have had my fill of sinful deeds for one night, thank you very much. Now do not speak of it again,” Melisande whispered back in a rush.

When the dance ended and they honored their partners all around, Devin leaned toward Melisande. “Then when?” he asked quietly.

“On the east lawns at the dinner hour tomorrow.”

“The dinner hour?” he asked, puzzled. Melisande nodded and he added, “But all will be in attendance.”

Melisande looked into his lush green eyes and said aloud, “Precisely,” then lowered her head in accompaniment of an elegant curtsy.

Helena came and took Melisande by the arm. As they passed Lord Bergavny, Melisande thanked him for a wonderful evening and, in turn, he thanked her for sharing her talents. The two ladies started up the stairs and Melisande did not wish to yield even the slightest glance toward Devin. She could, however, feel his warm gaze upon her person.

The two women reached the top of the staircase and Helena paused to comment about the look on Melisande’s face. “You look…rather… Well, very—”

Helena was obviously at a loss for words, but at the moment, no words was exactly what Melisande wished for. They began the ascent up the narrow stone stairs toward her chambers.

Melisande tried to comfort her hostess. “Truly, I had a wonderful time, I am just tired.”

“Fitzherbert and I are concerned about you,” Helena said, placing her arm around Melisande’s shoulders.

“You need not be, truly. Go, dance the night away and be merry. You and Lord Bergavny seem to be so in love. Do not take that for granted,” she said as they reached her door, just before Maggie pulled it open for Melisande.

“You are wise beyond your years, my child.” The elder woman smiled.

“Goodnight, Helena.” Melisande dipped her head in a polite bow then she stepped through the door.

Tilly and Maggie helped her undress. They chattered between themselves about the different men they had met and which ones they would like to get to know better. Melisande dismissed the young chits and blew out the candles herself. Used to an even cooler chamber at Dupree than Willowbrook’s walls afforded, she decided to move aside the large tapestry and open the shutters for some fresh air. Once this was accomplished, she climbed into bed.

Melisande was drifting into a satisfying slumber—in truth, she was even more tired than she had admitted to Helena—when she heard a noise that seemed to come from outside on the allure below.

Through the barest of slits in her parted eyelids, upon the ledge she could see the tall figure of a man leaning against the partition that separated the twin portals in the wall, his shoulders just touching either side of the one he filled. Melisande knew exactly who it was.
Devin
. How dare he come to her room like this, and how long had he been standing there? If he took one step in, she vowed she would scream to high heaven.

Chapter Six

Devin watched Melisande as she slept in the moonlight, gazing upon her halo of hair fanning out across the pillow beneath her head. His insides felt as if they were plummeting to his feet. She seemed so pure, so real. God’s teeth, how he longed to climb under that coverlet and just hold her.
Nay,
he admitted with a shake of his head, he wished to do more than that…
Much more.
But she was asleep. He daren’t awaken her, for he knew she’d never forgive him for disobeying her wishes about not wanting his company this night. For as much beauty as she possessed, she had a headstrong disposition.
What sort of attack could break down such defenses
? He almost laughed aloud at the idea. He’d never even thought to adhere to the concerns of the other women he’d been with. He’d never had to. They’d wanted him and he’d wanted them. He’d never lingered beyond the coupling, had never had to make pleasant conversation. The arrangement had always been simple.