Free Lespada by Kathryn Le Veque Page A

that had been brought from her father’s house. They were linens that she and her mother had sewed together when she had been young. Her trunks were lined up neatly against the wall and Andrew had even had fresh rushes brought to the chamber. The room was far cozier than it had been hours earlier. 
    The knocked rapped a second time and Devereux rose, both anxious and defensive. The past several hours had done nothing to ease her devastation at what had happened with Davyss.  If anything, her sense of desolation had deepened, ingraining itself into her heart. She wasn’t sure she could ever look at the man again and not think of what had happened. The worst part was, if she would admit it to herself, was the fact that for the most part, she had enjoyed it. Davyss had awakened a part of her she never knew to exist.  She was deeply ashamed.
    “Who is it?” she asked as she drew near the door.
    “Lady Katharine,” came a voice from the other side. “May I enter?”
    Devereux well remembered her last conversation with the woman but there was no way she could avoid her. She bade her enter.
    “Aye,” she replied.
    The door opened and the frail old woman stepped through.  On the landing outside, Devereux could see at least two soldiers guarding the door.  They shut the panel as the old woman moved into the room.  Devereux stood several feet away, gazing steadily at her, waiting for the lashing that was undoubtedly to come.
    But a lashing was not immediately forthcoming. Lady Katharine faced her new daughter, inspecting the woman in the firelight; she was clad in the heavy white woolen shift with the belled sleeves and gold tassels hanging from the cuffs.  The shift was more of a heavy surcoat than an actual shift, with a stiff collar around the neck and a plunging neckline with gold embroidery around it.  It was, in truth, an exquisite garment, made more exquisite by Devereux’s beauty.  Lady Katharine sighed with satisfaction.
    “My husband brought me that coat all the way from Rome,” she indicated the off-white garment. “It never looked so good on me.”
    Off-guard with the compliment, Devereux looked down at herself as if confused by the woman’s observations.  After Davyss had left and she had pulled herself together, she had dressed in the warm garment simply because the room was cold. She had then pulled her silky hair into a single thick braid, tied at the end with a golden scarf.  She had no idea how angelic and radiant she looked.
    “This belongs to you?” she smoothed her hands over the feather-soft wool. “Your son gave it to me as a gift. I was unaware that it was yours.”
    The old woman waved her hand. “I told him to give to it to you. It was made for you.”
      Devereux didn’t know what to say.  She wasn’t feeling particularly amiable towards any member of the de Winter family at the moment but she would not forget her manners. She indicated the chair to Lady Katharine.
    “Would you sit, my lady?” she said.
    Lady Katharine made her way to the chair and sat heavily. Her gaze moved over the room, the fire, the over-stuffed mattress before finally coming to rest on Devereux again.  Her dark eyes were piercing as she appraised her and it was a struggle for Devereux not to back away. She met the woman’s gaze steadily.
    “How may I be of service, my lady?” Devereux asked.
    Lady Katharine’s attention remained steady. “I understand you and my son experienced some conflict this afternoon. I am here to see if I can assist.”
    Devereux’s brow furrowed slightly.  “Did he send you?”
    The old woman shifted slightly. “He did.”
    Devereux’s silver eyes regarded the woman a moment. She was careful in her reply. “Lady Katharine, surely you realize that this marriage is not palatable for your son or for me,” she said. “Why, exactly, did he send you?”
    “To see if I could ease your anger towards him.”
    Devereux pondered that a moment; so he feared that she was angry