Courtly Love (19 page)

Serena had recovered her poise enough to smile at the page. "You may wait outside for me. I shall not be long."

When the door closed behind the page, Gyles began to laugh while Serena hurriedly changed her gown and began to brush her gold-flecked curls into order.

"What, pray, do you find so amusing, Gyles?" Serena frowned over her shoulder.

"You!" Gyles gasped and collapsed into a chair. "You jumped as if you'd been bitten."

"Well, it might have been someone else—perhaps even the queen, and what would she have thoughtl" Serena said furiously.

A smile still played on Gyles's lips when he answered. "The first lesson of court life: The queen does not come to you, cherie; you go to her. Second lesson: Matilda and William have three sons. How do you think that happened; by their having separate beds? Even at his age now, I'll wager the king still has enough strength to give Matilda a good toss now and then."

Serena whirled, her fingers busily knotting a ribbon in her curls. "Gyles! You are speaking of your sovereign lord to whom you are pledged—"

"I speak of a man and a woman, Serena. Titles do not alter that fact." Green eyes inspected her critically. "Your hair isn't quite right. Come here and let me fix the ribbon."

Serena did as he asked, but fidgeted nervously, trying to inspect the line of her gown. She turned this way and that until Gyles pulled her firmly onto his lap and told her in a voice that brooked no disobedience to sit still. His hands finally fell from Serena's hair and she rose so that he could inspect her appearance. Her gown was of pale blue, shot through with silver threads, ribbons of the same color as the gown held the silver snood in place and the gold highlights of hair gleamed through it so that Serena's appearance was ethereal in its delicacy. Gyles sat, stunned by the beauty of the vision in front of him. "Well?" Serena demanded. "Am I presentable?"

Gyles nodded slowly. What could he say? Serena looked as if she could sprout wings and float above all the lowly mortals of the court. Such loveliness would undoubtedly turn the heads of the men at court, and Gyles felt a prickle of fear for Serena's safety. He rose and walked with her to the door of their chamber. "Be careful, Serena. Speak not to any man—be he squire, knight, or lord—alone."

Serena looked at Gyles in surprise. "But . . ." She stopped at the serious look on his face. "As you wish, Gyles. I shall say not a word unless I am surrounded by the queen's ladies or until you are by my side."

Gyles bent and gave her a light kiss. " 'Tis for your own good. Now go, the queen is waiting."

Serena hurried after the page, lifting her skirt so that she could stay apace with the boy and not lose him in the maze of corridors. As a result, Serena arrived flushed and breathless at the queen's chambers and had no time to compose herself because she was immediately admitted to the queen's presence.

"The Lady Serena, formerly of Broughton, wife to Gyles, Lord of Camden, Wolcott, and St. Clair."

Serena dropped to the floor, fighting silently to regain her breath, and listened as the page retreated and closed the door behind him. Serena remained on her knees, unmoving, not daring so much as a quick glance through her lashes. Surely the queen did not intend to leave her kneeling on the hard stones of the floor!

"Do you speak our tongue?"

The warm, maternal voice startled Serena and she nearly lifted her head to reply, but caught herself in time. "
Oui, Sa Majesti, peu ou point
." Serena switched to her native language. "My tutor preferred Latin but he had some small knowledge of your Norman tongue, which he passed on to my brother and myself."

"You had a tutor, Lady Serena?"

" 'Twas my brother's tutor, actually; a monk from the abbey at Broughton," Serena replied.

"Bien! You are more suitable than any of the other Saxon women who have attended me. But, rise, rise, my child, and come here so I may see you more clearly."

Serena obeyed and was surprised to find Matilda flanked by two young men. Matilda smiled warmly and beckoned to Serena. "Come, child, you need not fear I will bite you; nor, I promise, will either of my sons."

"Now you see how our father won so easily at Hastings, Mother, these Saxons have as much courage as a sheep!" The older of the two men looked at Serena with contempt, his brown eyes glittering with derision.

Serena—with some difficulty—bit back the sharp retort that sprang to her lips and gave Matilda a small smile. "I am most honored at having been granted the priviledge of attending you, Your Majesty."

Matilda chuckled. "Bah! When I was your age, Lady Serena, I would have preferred the intrigues of the young men at court rather than waiting upon an old woman." She bestowed a withering look upon her older son. "As for you, William, you will treat my ladies kindly, as they are gently bred, or you may absent yourself from my chambers."

Serena turned her blue-eyed gaze on William. He was short in stature but of a stocky, firm build, which Serena knew would turn into a paunch as he aged. William's coloring did not add to his attractiveness, for his face seemed constantly suffused with blood, as if he would fly into a rage at the least provocation—as, indeed, he often did. His features appeared to be constantly set in cruel, cynical lines and when angered, as now, the veins stood out in William's forehead, so that Serena could see the pulse beat in his temples. His eyes burned into Serena and her throat constricted with a fear she had never known. William advanced upon her and Serena yearned to back away from him, but pride stiffened her back and forced her to meet his gaze.

"You forget your place, Saxon! Tis unmannerly to look so upon a member of the royal family without permission." William bore down upon Serena, a hand upraised as if he would strike her.

"And far worse for a gentle lord to threaten a mere woman!" Serena retorted without thinking, then as realization dawned, her eyes widened in horror.

"A nation of sheep, eh, brother?" The slender youth who had remained silently watchful during the exchange now came to where Serena and William stood, his brown eyes bright with laughter. He took Serena's hand and bowed over it. "I apologize to this lovely ewe for my brother who has the manners of a goat." His grin was infectious and in spite of her situation, Serena found herself smiling back at him. His voice lowered so that only Serena could hear his next words. "I commend you on your courage, fair lady, but warn you to caution, William will not take this lightly. Mayhap if you were to apologize ..."

Serena's deep blue eyes thanked him and she turned to face William. She recalled now that Gyles had told her of William—nicknamed William Rufus for his reddish coloring—and his violent temper. "My apologies, your highness. I have the fault of speaking before I think."

William snorted. "That will soon be remedied by your stay here, among your betters."

"Tsk, tsk. William, you do have the manners of a goat. A beautiful woman humbles herself before you and all you do is berate her. I, madame, have better manners, I assure you. My name is Henry." Henry bowed once again over her hand and this time his lips pressed firmly against her fingers.

Serena gasped softly as her pulses leapt at the gentle touch of this prince and Henry's eyes smiled down into hers, acknowledging the flare of reaction. As if he were loath to do so, Henry slowly relinquished her hand and Serena appraised him through the lowered veil of her lashes. Her overall impression was that of darkness; a dark brown tunic trimmed in ermine and embroidered with gold thread, dark hair straight and close-cropped in the Norman fashion, a naturally swarthy complexion made even darker by hours spent in sun and wind, and above all else, dark, flashing eyes that engaged all who chanced to look into their depths. But for all his darkness, Serena did not find Henry's appearance oppressive or foreboding, she saw in this prince, who was the same age as herself, a light-hearted vitality that transmitted itself to her like a physical shock from his slender, whipcord body.

Henry was far different from his brother in temperament, Serena thought, yet both men were arrogant in their own way. William demanded respect by virtue of his over-bearing manner, while Henry won the loyalty of those he met with a straight-forward manner and unstudied charm. Oh. yes. Henry was a charmer, William Rufus a bully, and both had inherited their father's magnetism and energy, which they exuded in waves.

"I do not require you to teach me how to deal with a woman. Henry," William was saying. "Nor have I need for your advice on any other matter!"

Henry smiled insolently at his brother. "I take back my words; you are not a goat. William, you are a—"

"Henry! William!" Matilda came forward and delivered a stinging slap to each of them followed by a tirade of French. "Now out, both of you. What an impression you have made on this poor innocent, I cannot imagine; but you will both make amends to her. I have not yet decided how, but you shall both regret abusing my woman." Matilda gave both sons a push to the door and stood silently until it closed. Then she turned to Serena. "Come, child, let me look at you."

Serena obeyed, standing quite still while Matilda circled her, chin in hand, appraising her newest lady-in-waiting. "You are a tiny thing. Are you well?"

"I enjoy the best of health, Your Highness," Serena assured her.

"Bon! I require my hair to be dressed. Are you capable?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Then let us begin. Come."

While Serena brushed and curled the queen's greying but still lovely blond hair, Matilda kept up a running stream of conversation. "You must forgive my sons, Lady Serena, William has spoiled all of our children shamefully and I fear it shows. 'Tis hard for them, being the offspring of a man such as the king. There is naught William has said he would do that he has not accomplished, and our sons must naturally feel they must achieve even greater feats. Henry is a good boy, although I worry about him. Being the third son, he will inherit very little. Normandy will fall to Robert, of course, since he is the eldest and William will receive England. Oh, my dear, I am sorry. Do you hate my husband as some of your countrymen do?"

"No, Your Majesty, I do not hate the king nor the Norman people as a whole." Serena replied honestly, although her pride burned at the thought of her beloved England being handed over so carelessly to one such as William Rufus.

"Ah, but I had forgotten, you are married to one of my husband's bravest knights. Gyles has not visited the court in, ah ... let me think . . . two years? How long have you been married?"

" 'Twill be a year in January, your majesty."

"Ah! and no little ones?"

"No, your majesty." Serena reddened.

"But soon, yes?" Matilda asked with a twinkle in her hazel green eyes. "Your husband—you are happy with him?" Serena nodded. "It is a rare thing for one to be completely happy in a marriage. When the envoys came from the Duke to offer for my hand, oh, the scene I created! But afterward"—Matilda's eyes softened in remembrance—"William was like no other man I had known. He has a terrible temper, it is true; and such pride, so unwilling to bend, to understand that a person may reach out to give him loyaltv and affection freely, with no thought of reward." Matilda blinked rapidly, recalling suddenly Serena's presence. "I am sorry, ma petite, for a moment I forgot..."

Serena said nothing as she patted a final curl into place, though she felt Matilda watching her in the mirror. She knew little of court life---that fact Gyles had made painfully clear—but she doubted the queen fell to conversing so freely with her women, particularly one so recently arrived at court. Some of her doubts must have shown in her face for Matilda gave a soft laugh and turned to face Serena.

"And now you are wondering if the queen has taken leave of her senses, are you not, child?" Matilda asked with a smile. "I assure you, I am in full possession of my faculties. As you will soon learn." Matilda continued in a sterner vein. "Very little is done at court without a purpose being served—and your attendance upon me does have a purpose. It is no accident that we are alone or that I hoped to gain your confidence by striking a chord within you by the similarities between our husbands. Do not pale so, Lady Serena, I do not mean to frighten you nor do I mean you any harm. In truth you are younger than two of my daughters."

Serena placed the brush she still held on the table and folded her shaking hands to still their trembling. She moistened her dry lips, but when she spoke her voice was calm. "What is it you wish of me Your Highness?"

Matilda laughed in genuine amusement. "Child, you have more courage than most men I have known! Come, sit down here." Matilda indicated a chair by her side. "The time for pretense is over then I like you, so from now on there shall be only the truth between us. My husband instructed me to include you among my ladies— because of your brother."

"Bryan? But why?" Serena's eyes were wide with alarm.

Matilda's lips pursed in thought for a moment. "Your brother has no great love for my husband or his rule. No? There are many young men such as your Bryan, Lady Serena, and it is not my husband's desire to destroy the flower of England's manhood. You must believe that. But neither can he allow traitors to spread dissension throughout the land. The king greatly desires peace in the kingdom; it has only been five years since Wales was brought under his rule and more worries must not be added to the burden he already carries. And his burden is great." Matilda's eyes grew sad as she sat wrapped in her thoughts, then she sighed wearily. "I have no love of politics or of intrigue, Lady Serena. I care only for my husband and children, and now I find myself torn between them as well. Do you know of Robert, our eldest son? No? Then I shall speak of him so you may understand my husband's position more clearly. Robert is our firstborn, the heir to Normandy's throne. During my husband's frequent absences, Robert rules in his stead. All was well 'til Robert came to England last year and demanded—demanded!—independence and full authority for himself in Normandy.