Joust of Hearts (7 page)

He focused on Melisande once again. Suddenly
nothing
was simple.

Pretending to be asleep, Melisande did not move at all during his perusal of her, which, to her, seemed to go on forever.

Of a sudden, he stood up straight. Melisande flooded her lungs with air, ready to shout in alarm. However, he reached up and placed the tapestry back over the window as if shutting a door, then he was gone.

Melisande sat up in her bed, and the scream she’d prepared was hastily puffed out of her mouth in silence. She threw the coverlet off and dashed over to peek beyond the tapestry. It seemed that he’d vanished over the wall.

“That was the extent of his visit?” she said aloud, suddenly wondering at the discovery that she’d actually wanted his company so late at night…in her chamber. Her indecisiveness vaulted emotions over the edge from victim to huntress. A very disappointed huntress. More vexed than before, she slammed the shutters closed, bolted them, flung the tapestry shut and marched back to bed, stomping her feet on the hard floor, kicking at rushes all the way. “Honestly, men are the most frustrating creatures,” she murmered to the empty room. She pulled her pillow over her head and, in a huff, went to sleep.

* * * *

“You have slept late again, m’lady. If you did not love your sleep so, I am sure Maggie and me would be labeled a disgrace by the others who share our tasks.”

“Oh, Tilly, do not fuss so,” she mumbled from her stupor and opened her eyes with caution. They’d moved the tapestry so that the sun beamed into the room, illuminating everything to a visual screech. She sank deeper into the warmth and darkness of her bedding.

Maggie pulled the covering from Melisande’s face. “Now, you will be needing to break your fast. I shall fetch a salver before all is swept away.” She hurried from the room.

“Your light green gown and ivory robes will do fine for the tour and dinner later this day. Which headpiece would you prefer, your green chaperon or the ivory-horned headdress?”

Resigned to the invasion, Melisande sat up in her bed and found that she had a slight headache. “I will not be wearing a headpiece, Tilly. I would like a braid.”

“But, m’lady, everyone will be wearing a head covering of some sort,” Tilly whined in a tone that made Melisande want to place her hands over her ears.

Here was yet another battle she didn’t care to attend. Besides, she was at the home of a friend, not at court, for heaven’s sake. She should be able to take her ease if she so desired. “Bring me the one I wear for Mass.”

Tilly did as she was told and returned from the trunks with the hat, handing it to her mistress. Melisande proceeded to remove the length of long sheer white fabric from the headpiece. “We shall fasten this to the top of my head for a covering. Will that suffice?”

Perhaps if Maggie had been there, Melisande would have drawn more argument from her maids. Together they, at times, were a formative pair. She supposed they only did it for her sake and for the sake of appearances, but there really was no need. Not at Willowbrook.

After Melisande ate the bread and meat Maggie had brought up, the girls dressed her and began dressing her hair. They wove the braids at the front on both sides of her head to form a crown, then joined loosely at the center to fall down to her waist. With the thin handle of a wooden comb, Maggie meticulously tucked the folded material into the front of the crown. Then she lifted the fabric off Melisande’s face and let it hang from the crown to halfway down her back. Tilly and Maggie both agreed that this was more practical and feminine than the other head coverings.

Melisande wondered if Devin would like it then, just as quickly, pushed that thought aside.

* * * *

Lord Bergavny was speaking to a group of twenty or so when Melisande finally joined them. “This day we shall take a tour of Willowbrook and her grounds. I myself will escort you to the stables, to the gardens, and finally through the great hall that is the heart of Willowbrook. I shall share with you the history of the battle in which I fought to obtain this property”—Lord Bergavny paused then continued with much puzzlement—“which seems to not have been so many years ago, unless one would study a chart of years.”

The group chuckled.

Melisande was not looking forward to
that
part of the tour.
These knights are all the same,
she thought to herself.
Always talking of their former days of glory.

At once she became aware of a presence behind her. She spared the intrusion a quick glance. How could she have thought it would be anyone but Devin? Why, she could practically sense his virility. After all, she had felt it when he stood just inside her chamber the night before, even from across her room. Facing forward again, she adjusted her sleeves.

“Good day, Lady Melisande.” Devin spoke softly, close to her ear.

She was sure he knew the reaction he caused when he breathed his words so near. A flash of memory presented her with the vision of Devin upon her chamber’s ledge, and Melisande seemed to transform into a saucy creature, one over which she had no control. “Good day to you, Devin,” she said, turning fully to look up at him. His handsome face nearly made her knees buckle. Would he catch her and pull her into his big strong arms?
Get hold of yourself, Melisande.
She mentally tried to shake off her lustful thoughts and contradictory feelings. Her thoughts would insist upon one thing and out from her mouth came the opposite.
The battle going on inside between my body and mind… Why, no knight, no matter how strong, could stand up to its force
. Of this she was certain.

The group started forward following Lord Bergavny, and Devin continued to speak close to Melisande. “You are a pleasant sight to look upon this day, my lady.”

“And I was not last eve?” she asked raising an eyebrow, hoping to draw from him confession and summon as many smart retorts from her own lips as possible.

“I wanted to do more last eve than look,” he purred into her ear.

“You
did
do more last eve than look,” she whispered sarcastically, even though her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest.
Oh, how this man excites the senses.

“Aye, and you were most agreeable.” He placed his hands on her waist from behind and gave her a squeeze.

Melisande felt unsettled. The control of the situation seemed completely out of her hands now, and she wiggled away from his grasp. “Mayhaps. Now be still that I may hear what Lord Bergavny has to tell.”

Much to her relief, Devin did not speak again until they left the stables. Quietly, from behind, he offered, “Did you dream of me after you retired?”

“I… I never remember having dreams,” she lied. In her dream he’d come back through the portal and made love to her
. He’d no doubt enjoy hearing that
, she thought wryly. Melisande folded her arms in front of her to stop her hands from shaking. She was thankful that he could not see her burning cheeks.

“You visited my dreams. Would you like to hear of it?” he enquired, stepping so close that the tips of his boots became lost under the hem of her robes.

She tried to pull away. “I am sure I would not be interested—”

“Oh, but you would.” Devin caught her by the arm and made her face him.

“Very well, what type of gown was I wearing?” she asked, yielding to his insistence. At least now he would have a topic to stick to, and not wander back to the indiscretions of the night before.

He slid his palm down her arm, lingering at her wrist. “You did not wear a single strip of cloth in my dream,” he admitted, just above a whisper.

As fast as lightning she spun away from him, but Devin leaned his chest forward so that he was gently pressing against her back. She could feel the heat of him through their garments. “Nothing but your golden hair covered my pillow as we lay there together.”

In an attempt to escape Devin’s insolence and equally brazen topic, she cleared her throat and hastily searched for a subject to present to the lord of the manor, “Pray tell us, Lord Bergavny, have you any plans for additions to your gardens?” Melisande blurted a bit too loudly.

Devin chuckled softly as she strode a pace away from him.

Lord Bergavny went on and on about his ideas about stone pathways, fountains, topiaries and the like.

Melisande desperately wanted to look interested, and at the same time was trying to control her capricious composure. This man Devin simply had to appear and she was taken completely out of her normal character.

She wanted to remove her outer robe, for the heat seemed to rise from the ground. Then Melisande realized that they were standing in the shade. It was Devin that warmed her, mind, body and spirit. He was a danger to her very existence as she knew it.

Melisande folded her arms across her chest and pressed her lips together. She heaved a breath noisily out of her nose.
Why do I lose my self-possession so easily? What have I become—some wanton kitchen wench?
she silently chastised herself.
What of my good Christian morals? Surely I have those to lean upon when trouble arises. I must repent and drive these demons away.
As resolute as she could be at the moment, Melisande offered up to heaven a quick penance accompanied by a plea for strength. She hoped it would be enough.

Lord Bergavny finished the tour of the gardens, and was presently drawing the group toward the castle.

Melisande supposed she shouldn’t have remained at the back of the group.
’Twas much easier for Devin to stir up mischief.

As they walked along the battlement wall, Lord Bergavny began the telling of the taking of Willowbrook. Melisande finally gathered the courage to look up at Devin, who now stood next to her.

He spoke before she could. “See you the large parapet at the top floor of the west-most wing, sweet?”

Melisande shielded her eyes from the sun. “Aye,” she replied, inwardly bristling over the endearment.

“That is where I sleep. If you ever have need—”

“And what, pray tell, would I need from you in your chamber?” she enquired none too quietly. Here it was, her first skirmish with Lucifer when it was just moments ago that she had looked toward heaven to help her.

“Shhh… Quietly. You wouldn’t want everyone watching when you come to me.”

“When I— You have some fanciful ideas.” Melisande’s head fairly swam with the notion. She promptly pushed her thoughts aside and jerked her chin in the opposite direction. She tried in vain to regain control of her senses. At his next words, her gaze flew back to meet his.

“If you but knew,” he said, grinning down at her.

Clearly, her tattered nerves could not take much more of this. She made to protest. “Well, I do not—”

“Indeed you do, my lady,” came his smug retort.

“Ha. You have nothing I need.” Melisande felt that her feeble reply could not have possibly repressed his verbal advances.

And why did you have to be so handsome
? At once, Melisande was certain she had lost the battle, for on her face, she knew, shone the betraying thought as if she had spoken it aloud. And much to her misery, she could see that Devin had already absorbed each fanciful word.

She turned her back to him in a huff. His flirtations were too much for her to bear, not to mention that her experience with enticing, charismatic men was non-existent. This man was far too tempting. She could never win at this game and she was a fool to have thought otherwise.

Devin leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I know you have not had a husband in over a year. You do have a need whether you admit it or nay, and I wish to fill that need.”

Merciful heavens
. This battle was now all but lost. Melisande’s legs went weak, and she leaned back against him and closed her eyes. “You make love to me with your words and confuse me so.” She couldn’t be sure if she’d actually voiced her thoughts aloud, but what did it matter?

Devin wrapped his arms around her, kissed her neck and whispered back, “I have much more to offer than mere words. Come to me this night.”

“I-I mustn’t. ’Twould be a sin,” she replied quietly, her breathing gone ragged.

He nuzzled her neck as he spoke. “Melisande, we have already succumbed to our need for each other and I, for one, am loath to sustain the punishment without having indulged in the sin.”

The low tones of his voice reverberated in her ear and she clutched at the skin on her arms to calm the gooseflesh. Before her flashed a particularly sensual scene from her dream that made her very existence seem to spin out of control.

But what will happen upon the morrow
? Melisande knew not if it had to do with her plea to heaven or her own reality raising its voice, but it wrenched her from her private fixation. “I depart at dawn. I would never see you again, and I am not inclined to endure another loss in my life,” she said flatly. As she opened her eyes, the crushing fact swept over her like the trampling of a great warhorse. Melisande nudged out of Devin’s embrace and walked back to the stairway that led off the battlement wall. Managing to control her senses, she raced down the steps, wishing to be free of her demons.

Chapter Seven

As the distance stretched between him and Melisande, Devin could feel the joy that had radiated from him moments ago shrink away like a fading sunset. A strange pang resonated through his heart. Did she still truly mourn her husband after so much time had passed? He could not bear the thought of this petite girl enduring the pain of this or any other loss for that matter. Something needed to be done. Melisande’s happiness would have to be secure if he were any sort of chivalrous man, let alone a knight.

Devin endured the rest of the tour without Melisande. He enjoyed hearing of the battle he had squired for so many years ago. And it was indeed a good thing that Lord Bergavny didn’t call upon him for comment. His thoughts of Melisande distracted him at every turn—the clever way she bantered with him… Even when she contradicted herself. She could be saucy and, in the same breath, could border on pious. Whatever her reason for such verbal vacillation, it intrigued him. His desire to take his time and unravel her mysteries nearly overwhelmed him.