Swords and Shields (Reign of the House of de Winter) (19 page)

“A wise one because it keeps your hands clean and your emotions out of it.”

Drake didn’t have anything to say to that but he was determined to do what he had to do, for all their sakes. In silence, Drake and Cortez moved to Watcyn de Witt and his wife, separating the couple from the group of battered men and taking them off to the hall where they were hidden from view. Lady de Witt clung to her husband, distraught, as if only now realizing her decision to try and kill Lady de Winter would have dire consequences. It was clear that failure in her quest hadn’t occurred to her.

Lady de Witt cried and begged for their lives, only quieting when Drake set them in a corner of the hall, near the door that led out to the stable yard, and calmly discussed the situation as he saw it. It was a quiet area, and shielded, and Drake lost sight of Cortez as he explained that blood feuds were not particularly healthy to anyone. He discussed that he, as a de Winter, had married into these aggressions and he wasn’t happy about it in the least. Lady de Witt was quick to defend her family’s position and in her fervor, Drake could see, still, that the woman had absolutely no qualms about making the attempt against Elizaveta. Drake was quite certain that, given another chance, she would do it again.

He would not take the risk.

It was an unsettling realization but one that underscored his decision to punish both of them. As Drake listened to de Witt speak on the de Mandevilles of Westleton and how their hatred of the House of du Reims was the basis of their entire existence, Cortez suddenly appeared out of the darkness, behind de Witt and his wife, and moved for the lady first with a very sharp dagger in his hand. He already had the woman in his arms and limp by the time her husband realized what had happened, and he turned on Cortez, forcing Drake to still the man with a dagger to the neck.

As quickly as it started, it was over. Punishment was dealt. Drake stood over the bodies, bleeding out into the hard-packed earth of the hall, before glancing at Cortez.

“I told you I would do this,” he grumbled.

Cortez shook his head. “It would not do for the Earl of East Anglia to have more de Mandeville blood on his hands,” he pointed out. “I told
you
that.”

“And I told
you
this was my responsibility,” Drake fired back, now fighting off his irritation. He knew why Cortez had done it; he simply didn’t agree with the man. He pointed to the door that led out to the stables. “Take her and I will take him. Let us remove them to the stables and cover them with straw until we can move them out of here.”

Cortez easily picked up Lady de Witt and carried her out of the door, into the dim stables, as Drake followed behind dragging de Witt, leaving a trail of blood as he went. But the deed was done, distasteful but necessary as it had been, and before the day was out, twenty-seven de Witt soldiers were heading for Westleton with a wagon bearing the bodies of their liege and his wife, and a very strong message for Edmund de Mandeville.

Attempt to cross me again and this is what I will do to your entire family.

By dawn, the de Mandevilles were moving, fully armed, for Spexhall.

“They told me you were awake but I did not believe it,” Drake said as he entered what Lady de Witt had called the knight’s eating hall, the room with the stairs that led down to the kitchen below. “It is before dawn, Elizaveta. Why are you not still asleep?”

Seated at the big, scrubbed table that had been her shield against Lady de Witt’s attack the day before, Elizaveta grinned up at her husband. Dressed in a heavy blue wool against the chill morning temperature, her dark hair was braided and wound into a bun at the nape of her neck. She looked utterly beautiful and rested in spite of the harrowing day before and also in spite of the early hour. She appeared as if she had suffered no strife so recently. The woman was a marvel of beauty and energy, and Drake was transfixed by her.

She was radiant.

“Is it not enough that I fell asleep last night without so much as bidding you a good eve?” she asked him. “We were able to at least unpack the bedding yesterday but the moment I lay down, I fell asleep. God himself could not have awoken me. So I have arisen early this morning to see to the needs of the day. It is our first day in our new home and I do not intend to lie about.”

Smiling, Drake bent over and kissed the top of her head before claiming a seat on the bench next to her. He sat quite close to her. “Something tells me that you are not one to lie about in any case,” he said. “Call it intuition, but I would suspect you would be quite productive under any circumstances.”

Elizaveta giggled. “It is true that it is difficult for me to sit still.”

“I am coming to know that about you.”

Elizaveta simply grinned at him. It was the first real conversation they’d had since the chaos yesterday. Drake hadn’t had much chance to speak with her after the ambush and the subsequent disposal of de Witt and his wife because he had spent all of his time situating the remains of de Witt’s army and making sure they understood the message they were to deliver to the de Mandevilles. There were more tasks for him as well, such as making sure all of his wounded were moved to the hall for shelter. Because he’d been so busy, and perhaps in some small way avoiding Elizaveta because of what he’d done with de Witt and his wife, he hadn’t seen Elizaveta until much later that evening.

It was a bit chaotic in the keep when he had arrived, as Elizaveta had all of their possessions brought in and was organizing them in one of the gated rooms. Drake found the gate system of the keep quite fascinating, if not a bit cumbersome, and he stood by as Elizaveta and Daniella ordered the soldiers about, moving trunks to the upper floors and asking them to do other household tasks. Since there were no servants, and Elizaveta had chased away Lady de Witt’s only female kitchen servant, Drake’s soldiers were called into household service, which made most of them quite unhappy until Lady de Winter began cooking the evening meal in the lower level. With the smell of food, they were willing to work, looking forward to the ultimate reward.

As he watched his wife work, Drake came to see that not only was the woman courageous, she was also productive. With no kitchen servants, she could have very easily cried about not having anyone to serve the meal but instead, she simply went down to the kitchen and assessed what food they had to cook with. There was bread dough already, having risen to great heights as it sat near the warm hearth, and there were other food stuffs including nearly an entire side of pork. With help from Drake’s quartermaster, who saw to the provisions of his army, Elizaveta and Daniella were able to make an acceptable stew of pork and carrots and beans while the quartermaster himself, having filled men’s bellies for years, made the bread. It had been a simple meal but a filling one as the de Winter army settled in for the coming night.

But the eating room inside the keep had been the last place Drake had seen his wife awake. After the meal, she had gone to the upper floors to prepare their beds for the night and he didn’t see her again until he went looking for her and found her sleeping heavily in a large chamber on the top floor. She was fully clothed, obviously having fallen asleep in the midst of her duties, and he didn’t want to disturb her. Therefore, he climbed in next to her and fell into a heavy sleep himself.

When Drake awoke before dawn, she had been curled up in his arms.

So he had lain there for a time, simply feeling her against him, smelling her hair and feeling her steady breathing as her chest moved against his. He’d lain with women before, probably more times than he should have, and he’d lain with them in the early morning hours before the day began just as he did now. But he’d been eager to rise in those instances, eager to leave before the female awoke. He couldn’t ever recall wanting to remain in bed with her unless it was, of course, to satisfy his urges, but to simply lay there and hold her… nay, he couldn’t remember having done that, ever.

But at that moment, he had been very content to lay with Elizaveta. Was it because she belonged to him, the only woman who had ever truly bore that distinction? Or was it because he was becoming increasingly fascinated with her, curious about her, and drawn to her? He couldn’t quite figure it out. All he knew was that, at that moment, he had been more content than he’d ever been in his life.

And now he sat with her, gazing upon her stunning beauty and thinking that the time spent with her felt more like a dream. The wedding, the travel to Spexhall, the battle yesterday… all of it seemed like a dream. But it had been a dream that had thrown them together quickly and they’d had to depend on one another to survive. He’d seen her true character in brief glimpses and he liked what he saw.

He liked
he
r.

“I hope the fact that I cannot sit still does not annoy you,” Elizaveta was saying, cutting into his daydreaming. “In fact, I have spent the past hour inventorying our food supplies, at least the supplies in the kitchen below. I have yet to go to the outside kitchen. I did not want to leave the keep until you gave me permission.”

Jolted from his thoughts, he put his hand on her shoulder, gently, simply to feel her warmth against his palm.

“Given what happened yesterday, it is completely understandable,” he said. “But the castle is bottled up tightly and you are free to go where you please within the walls. I would assume you have the keys to the keep with you?”

Elizaveta nodded, digging down into a pocket on her skirt and pulling forth the heavy rope of iron keys. “I have,” she said. “I am afraid to let these out of my sight. If they were misplaced, we would be locked in here forever.”

He looked at the collection of heavy keys. “No doubt,” he said. “In fact, after some thought, I think it might be wise to unhinge some of these gates so that we can move freely about the keep. I am not entirely sure they are necessary any longer. Mayhap we will keep a few, but not all.”

Elizaveta looked at the two gates within her line of sight. “It makes me feel as if I am in prison,” she admitted, returning her attention to Drake. “Yesterday, however, these gates made me feel quite safe when I was able to lock Lady de Witt within them.”

Drake wasn’t hard-pressed to agree with her. “Hopefully, there will be no more days like yesterday,” he said. “I fervently hope that we will only know days of peace from this point forward because I would like to come to know my wife without the stress and interference of a life-threatening battle.”

He was smiling by the time he had finished and Elizaveta grinned in return. “That sounds reasonable enough,” she said. “What is your schedule for this day, husband? Is there anything you require from me?”

Husband
. Drake never thought he’d like hearing that word where it pertained to him but coming from Elizaveta’s mouth, he liked it very much. It made him feel important somehow, whole and complete. He couldn’t explain his feelings any better than that. The hand that rested on her shoulder moved to her hand and he collected it in his big, calloused palm.

“An assessment of the needs of the keep is what I will need from you,” he said, fondling her fingers. “Since you are free to wander the castle, you will go to the hall and familiarize yourself with that as well. You are the chatelaine now, Lady de Winter. Do what you must in order to make our new home comfortable.”

Elizaveta smiled, mostly because he was holding her hand quite sweetly, but his words were sweet as well.
Our home
. He’d called Spexhall Castle
our
home. More and more she was coming to feel wanted and appreciated from the man who had never wanted to marry her in the first place. It was quite a change of heart, for the both of them. She thought she could rather like this new world they were living in. It was certainly different and more wonderful than anything she had ever thought it could be.

“I will,” she said softly, watching him smile at her. He had the most marvelous, dimpled smile. “I believe I saw a small village when we arrived yesterday and a church. I should like to meet the clergy and become acquainted with the village. Most villages have a market during the week and we may need a few things once I have finished my assessment of the castle.”

Drake nodded. He was still squeezing her hand, holding it, rubbing his big fingers along her skin to feel the texture. “I am not entirely sure how big the village truly is, so we shall see,” he said. “On our travel south, do you remember traveling through that big village a few miles to the north? That is probably our best chance of purchasing any goods we may need. Villages that size always have some kind of market.”

Elizaveta was nodding, remembering the berg he spoke of, the one with a big, box-shaped church. When it seemed as if there was nothing left to speak of, Drake kissed her hand and released it, standing up from the bench and preparing to leave, but Elizaveta stopped him.

“Wait,” she said, watching him pause to look at her. “Before you go, I… I was wondering… that is, I was hoping that I might have a room of my own in the keep, one where I can do my needlework or read my Bible or even write to my mother.”

He smiled at her; it seemed that he smiled at her quite a bit, odd coming from a man who didn’t normally smile at anything much. But everything about Elizaveta turned him warm and giddy, and the smile was the result. “You have mentioned your impressive skills, Lady de Winter,” he said. “But it is curious to me why you would write to a woman you did not even want to bid farewell to when we left Thetford.”

Cheeks flushing, Elizaveta lowered her gaze. The messages she would send her mother had nothing to do with sentimentality and everything to do with what she was being forced to do.
Spy on her English husband
. God, even as she gave pause to the thought, reminding her of why she had truly married Drake de Winter, she felt nauseous. Nauseous and terrified of what would happen if she did not obey.

She’d been able to forget about her duty for the past couple of hours and especially in light of what happened yesterday. Yesterday, she had bonded with Drake as she’d never bonded with anyone in her life. She felt wanted and as if she belonged, finally, for the first time in her life. Now, the reasons behind the marriage, the duty she had been sworn to by her French grandmother and her Scottish mother, threatened to destroy something she never expected to have. It would have been much easier had she married someone she could learn to hate, but with Drake… she could never hate him, not ever. She didn’t think he could hate her, either, unless she did something so terrible that he could never forgive her.

Like betraying his cause.

More grief swept her at the thought of betraying him. What would happen if she told Drake of the plot behind their marriage? Would he defend her? Turn her over to Edward? He was an English knight to the core and certainly more loyal to Edward than to his new wife.
Nay
, she told herself with sadness,
I cannot tell him
. They had only known each other a few days and he did not know her well enough to trust her, at least in Elizaveta’s thinking. Drake would think she was a traitor and it would destroy all of this lovely warmth building between them. It would destroy everything.

Therefore, she could not tell him anything.

Would
not.

“My… my mother is not one for farewells,” she said, belatedly replying to his statement as she struggled with thoughts of betrayal. “I did not see the need.”

Drake could see that he’d offended her and hastened to make up for his lack of tact. “My mother is often the same way,” he said, trying to make light of his gaff. “She hates to bid anyone farewell. She thinks that if she does not, it does not make the parting so… final.”

Elizaveta smiled weakly. “And I thought it was because she was angry with me,” she teased before directing the conversation away from mothers, for she certainly did not wish to discuss hers. “May I select a room for my private use or would you rather select it for me?”

Drake smiled gently, reaching out to touch her pale cheek. “You may select it, Vee-Vee,” he said. “The keep is yours to do with as you please. If you decide to kick everyone out and become queen of your own domain, I will allow it. But I hope you will let me stay.”

She blushed, caught up in his gentle flirt and the fond use of her nickname. “I will always let you stay,” she said. “You would probably lay siege to my castle if I did not.”

He laughed softly. “I would try to breach it any way I could.”