Joust of Hearts Read online

  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.

  At the conclusion of the tour, Devin departed in search of Lady Helena. He wished to ask her to convince Melisande to stay on a few more days at Willowbrook. “A few more days,” he chuckled as he spoke the words aloud, crossing the inner ward. He had a mind to follow Melisande wherever she would venture—there were no limits, as long as she was there. This game of his had turned into an extraordinary need to possess this sweet wench. Surprisingly, he didn’t mind in the least. He couldn’t see himself with any other woman, ever.

  Devin paused in wonder at the path on which his mind had wandered. “God in heaven,” he murmured to himself as the realization of his feelings surged through his being. ’Twas a surprising revelation… Akin to the knowledge of how to defeat an opponent upon the lists. He just knew she was the one.

  Devin found Lady Helena in her solar, embroidering. Most of her female guests were in their chambers preparing for the dinner out on the east lawns.

  “A word, my lady?” Devin asked from the threshold of the room.

  She glanced up from her sewing and her astonishment showed on her face for a brief moment. “Sir Devin, what an honor. Please do sit with me.” She indicated the upholstered bench across from her.

  He sat, not knowing where to begin.

  After a few moments of silence she teased, “Has the word you wished to share eluded you?”

  Devin chuckled at her ready wit.

  “Perhaps you wish to learn the finer points of needle and thread?”

  He shook his head, his gaze settling upon the ground between them.

  “Then what troubles you? Is it perhaps…a lady?”

  Just how she surmised his plight he knew not. He looked up at her. “But how—”

  “Female intuition.” She answered his unfinished question with a grin and a wink.

  So, you can face a blade or mace without so much as a blink, but in these matters you shrink away like a coward? He chided himself before he drew in a breath and forged ahead. “I am concerned about whether the Lady Dupree is finished with her mourni
ng.”

  “She is. And just.”

  He nodded. “Well, I was… As it happens, I… Do you think that perhaps…?”

  She placed her sewing in her lap. “You wish to win her heart, Sir Devin?”

  Devin blew out the trapped air from his lungs. “Indeed, my lady. Her heart and eventually her hand—if she will have me.”

  Her grin was radiant. “I could foresee this. You would make a fine match.” She paused, then, after tapping a finger on her chin a few times, continued far more sober a manner than a moment ago. “Devin, there is something I wish to explain to you. A few years ago, when Melisande was younger, she seemed to have a…fire in her eyes.” Helena observed her embroidery for a moment then lifted her gaze to Devin. “’Twas after she was married for a few months that that fire died down to more of a…smoldering.”

  Devin could only nod, encouraging her to go on.

  “I cannot explain the situation any more accurately than that. Her eyes do not have that certain something she possessed in the past. Please do not misinterpret my intentions, I adore the child as if she were my own.” Helena sighed. “Mayhaps what I am saying is…that I could not abide to see her hurt. You understand, do you not?”

  “I do. Melisande’s beauty is the finest I have ever beheld. However, it is everything about her that has hold of my heart. I see the ‘smoldering’ of which you speak and wish to fan that fire, bringing her to life once more.”

  He watched as Helena considered him for a moment. “Such pretty words from the much feared Black Knight,” she commented, ever the jester.

  Devin’s face heated and he chuckled. “Feared or not, said pretty words are swift to evade my mind when summoned on purpose.”

  “It oft-times will happen that way, dear boy,” she said with a gentle smile then added, “Very well. I shall try to persuade Melisande to remain for a time.” She returned to her sewing. “’Twill be quite a task, though—that young lady has ideas of her own,” she warned.

  “I have found that to be God’s own truth, my lady,” he confessed, thankful that it was so, for how could he wish to bring to wife someone who courted predictability?

  * * * *

  After Melisande had changed for the noontime events, she made her way to the table and benches out on the east lawn where the guests chatted away, waiting for Helena. White canopies had been stretched overhead to provide shade.

  Helena appeared, looking as beautiful and regal as ever. Everyone stood, as if she were a queen. At that moment, Melisande was proud to know Helena and counted herself lucky to hold such favor in the lady’s company.

  “Ah, Lady Bergavny.” One of the men offered her his seat at the table.

  “My thanks, Sir Riley,” Helena said to the gentleman, and he handed her down to the bench.

  The meal was served and pleasant conversation accompanied it. Not long after, Helena cleared her throat, gaining the attention of everyone present. “Now, Melisande, I realize this day is to be the end of our time together here at Willowbrook and I cannot bear to see you return to that lonely castle all by yourself. Would you consider staying on with us for a sennight or so?”

  Melisande glanced around at the other guests. Their faces conveyed a friendly sort of envy at hearing Lady Bergavny’s personal invitation to her.

  Helena then added, “I wish to visit London in two days hence, and your company would indeed mean quite a lot to me. ’Tis but a three hour ride from here when the roads are dry. I pray thee, say you will.”

  “My lady, I would be honored to stay on at Willowbrook, thank you.” Argh! Melisande nearly clapped her hand over her mouth. She had not thought before she spoke then remembered Devin. Staying on at Willowbrook would mean battling her lust for him night and day. She looked down at what was left of her bread and cheese, and could not eat another bite.

  * * * *

  As the sun dipped below the hills on the horizon, the Bergavnys bade farewell to a few of their guests. Melisande wandered the grounds of Willowbrook alone. No one seemed to notice her climbing the stairs to the battlements, so she continued exploring. She ran her hands along the rough stone parapets.

  She came to a tower that connected the pathways and stepped into the room. The torches in the inner room had been lit and as she stood bewildered as to who would have left them so, musical instruments began to play just beyond the arch at the opposite end of the tower. Devin appeared through the doorway and strode toward her. She smiled, realizing he had done this for her.

  Devin stopped in the center of the small room and placed his hand over his heart. “You are like the stars…and your voice is as lovely as…the wind and…your eyes are pools of…gray…”

  Melisande stood silently for a moment. She dared not laugh, for she knew how difficult this must have been for him and was deeply touched. The wall of ice she’d built around her heart melted at his awkward attempt at romantic prose and her resolve ebbed away. If she had not fallen for him before this, she would certainly have given herself to him now. ’Tis no ordinary man who would go to this length to impress a woman.

  His hand dropped to his side, clearly declaring his ode at an end.

  “Did you write that yourself?” Melisande asked, barely holding her mirth in check.

  “I am sorry. I have never professed to be a poet.” He grinned and placed his hands behind his back.

  “Nay, forsooth ’twas…lovely.”

  At the same moment, they broke into melodious laughter that drowned out the lute and lyre. Looking toward the archway, Devin dismissed the musicians with a wave of his hand and turned back toward Melisande.

  Her being flooded with a warm and overwhelming joy. Giddily she asked, “How did you know I was—”

  “I did not. I do, however, confess that I’d pondered long and hard as to how I would entice you to this tower.”

  There was no helping herself. She reached up and threw her arms around his neck as high as she could. Devin in turn pulled her close.

  “Your efforts are the sweetest thing a man has done for me in all of my life,” she said, and briefly touched her forehead to his chin.

  “Your late husband never recited verse for you?”

  Melisande attempted to stifle a giggle. “Nay not, and by the by, how did you find out I was widowed?”

  “I hear talk,” he replied, tossing his head to the side in dismissal of the subject.

  “And what else did you hear?”

  Devin’s smile faded, his eyes turned deep green and the torchlight reflected in them. “I also heard that you have not been with a man since he died,” he said in a low voice, slowly leaning his face toward hers.

  Melisande’s heart pounded as it always did when he was this close.

  “Remind me to dismiss those two gossiping maids from my employ,” she said half-heartedly, tilting her chin up. Their lips brushed together so lightly it tickled. Devin’s tongue gently teased her lower lip and her body melted along with her legs out from under her. She felt his arms tighten around her, keeping her from falling.

  So much for her sainthood. The short-lived battle for her widowed purity was forever lost. And now that she was resigned to that fact, she no longer cared. And so what? ’Tis not as if I am relinquishing my virginity. She hadn’t realized until this moment how lonely she had been. It feels so wonderful to be in Devin’s big, strong arms. This is heaven. She pulled away enough to sigh and murmur, “What is it about you that makes my mind bemused?”

  He answered her silently with a kiss.

  With each passing moment, his embrace became more intense as they melted closer together and lovingly feasted upon each other.

  Melisande wanted more of his tongue.

  He stopped kissing her and growled playfully. “Will you eat me alive, then, woman?” He reached down, his hands cupping her bottom, and pulled her toward him until she was flush against his hardness. “I would like that.” And he began again with his plundering kisses.

  She could barely reach the floor
with her toes. “Devin…” came her ragged groan as he nipped her cheeks then her neck.

  “Aye, Melisande. You will be mine,” he whispered.

  He was fire, he was sustenance—he was the very air around her. She wanted him to make love to her. Right now.

  As if she’d said it aloud, Devin lowered them to their knees. She tugged at the belt around his tunic as he peeled her robe from her shoulders. He was sucking and licking her neck and lifting her skirts at the same time. She needed this—needed him—and would do anything to feel him inside her. She stopped fussing with his belt and hefted her skirts, exposing her bare thighs.

  Of a sudden, there were footfalls approaching from one of the paths.

  “Melisande. Are you up here?”

  It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over their heads. They stood up and Devin quickly tugged Melisande’s robe back over her shoulders.

  “Is that you, Helena?” Melisande answered shakily, making certain that her hem fell to where it ought to have been.

  “Aye. Where are you?”

  Melisande started to walk forward and Devin grabbed her gently by the waist and pulled her back to his front. “Stand here, love,” he said next to her ear.

  Melisande nodded in response to Devin’s plea and spoke to Helena again. “In the tower.”

  “Oh, there you—” Helena paused, and for the briefest of moments, gaped at them, then recovered. “I am sorry. I have done it again, have I not?”

  “You have done naught, Helena,” she said, trying to comfort her hostess.

  Melisande glanced up at Devin. He simply smiled at Helena, but said nothing.

  Helena dropped her head and spoke to the ground. “I only wanted to inform you that supper was being served in the main hall, but really, there is no need to rush.”

  “I for one am starving. And yourself, Devin?”

  “Aye… Starving.”

  “Devin!” Melisande said softly, with a hint of a giggle in her voice. She brought her arm back and abruptly elbowed Devin in the ribs. She sobered and continued, “We shall join you straightaway, Helena.”