Courtly Love (31 page)

"Oh—what a perfect Norman you are, husband mine!" Serena gasped when she could finally speak. "What happens next—rape? But I had forgotten, there can be no rape between husband and wife, can there? Holy vows were spoken over us, so you may do with me whatever you wish. Rape only happens when a Saxon stupidly defies the advances of a Norman prince!"

Gyles went rigid first with shock then anger and the torrent of Serena's words abruptly halted when she realized what she had said. Had that been the reason for Serena's battered appearance—no fall, but a brutal attack by one of his countrymen? Gyles reached out to touch Serena's cheek but she danced away, anger flashing brilliantly in her eyes.

"No!" Serena stepped behind the chair Gyles had vacated. "Come no closer, I want no more tender Norman caresses. I have had more than my share of Norman honor and love."

Gyles threw the chair out of his path with careless ease. "Henry did that to you? That sniveling little whelp dared lay a hand upon you? I will kill him! I'll tear the heart from his body while he still lives!"

" Twas not Henry!" Serena cried. " Twas your glorious crown prince, William. And you will do nothing —you cannot, he will one day be your king so you dare not lay hands upon him. William will continue to do as he wishes, whether it be humiliating his lords or attacking helpless women. So speak not to me of what you will do to avenge my honor for all that you say will never come to pass."

"He took you?" Gyles roared, oblivious to all Serena had said. "He laid with you against your will?"

"What do you care, Gyles, you can always go back to Elspeth. So go to her, lay with her, get another child upon her—stay with your whore and be damned to you both!"

"Answer me!" Gyles's scar gleamed wickedly in the firelight

Serena's chin tilted defiantly and she lowered her voice. "I will not answer your questions, now or ever. You forswore your right to question my behavior when you took your ease with Elspeth. And it would seem I never had the right to take you to task for anything."

"I have explained . . ." Gyles shook his head wearily. He could explain the night through and he knew Serena still would not forgive his deed. He had erected a wall between them that Gyles doubted he could ever bring down. There was no love in Serena's eyes as she steadily returned his gaze and Gyles felt something unborn die within him. Serena had once told him she had only duties and obligations, well that was all that was left to Gyles now, and he girded himself against the outburst he knew would come after his next words. "My men will bide here until the weather clears; when that happens we will return to Camden, yourself included. On the morrow you will begin making what preparations there are."

Serena stared at Gyles, astounded, and her fingers meshed together until the knuckles whitened.

"I will not accompany you—I refuse to go back to Camden!" Serena said fiercely. "There is nothing for me there."

"You are my wife!" How familiar that sounded— how often in the past Gyles had thrown that fact at her when Serena dared defy him. "You will do as I say!"

"No!" Serena whirled to face the fire so that Gyles would not see the tears that filled her eyes. "The only way I shall ever return to Camden is if you drag me there. Will you do that? The brave Norman conquering the defenseless Saxon—how like William Rufus you are. Am I to remain secluded in my chamber while you welcome your harlots in your bed?"

Gyles motioned impatiently. "After all I have experienced at a woman's hands, you need not fear I will take a mistress. I prefer celibacy to the subtle form of torture you women practice. But make no mistake, Serena, you will return to Camden if I have to tie you across my saddle!"

"I will run away again!" Serena warned.

"Then I will be forced to set a guard upon you," Gyles retaliated, his patience exhausted.

Serena turned to face him and Gyles was shaken by the pain and grim determisation that showed in her eyes. "My soul will be free even while you keep my body prisoner."

The words fell so quietly that it was some time before their full impact penetrated Gyles's brain. "You would not!" Gyles managed to force the horrified whisper past his dry lips.

Serena eyed him steadily. "I will not return to Camden of my own free will. I will not bide there for the rest of my life. The choice, dear husband, is entirely yours."

"Alan will come home this summer." Gyles floundered desperately.

"Then he can place flowers on my grave. You are reconciled with Elspeth, let her give him the love that should have been his from birth. There is nothing left of me, Gyles. All that you said you would do, you have done. Are you pleased? All the hate you have nourished for women because of a moment's weakness by your mother has borne its fruit. I am destroyed. Does that please you? You have had your revenge upon my kind— you have torn me to bits and I can no longer repair the damage you have wrought." Serena's eyes dropped to the floor and she glided to the door. "You may have this chamber during your stay here. I do not wish to speak privately with you again, so do not seek me in my chamber unless you are prepared to use force to make me listen to your words, for that is the only way you will stay me. I will send a girl with the ointment for your hands and feet—use it or not, as you please."

* * *

Gyles rose late the next morning, gratified to discover the painful swelling and redness had all but disappeared from his extremities. Certain that Serena's anger had cooled during the night and he could easily reason with her, Gyles dressed hurriedly and upon leaving his chamber stopped one of the housecarls to inquire the location of Serena's chamber.

"M'lady is in the great hall." The man looked shocked by Gyles's inquiry. "She has been tending your men the night through, m'lord."

Gyles found his wife kneeling before one of his knights, her hands gently kneading the salve into the man's obviously chilblained feet. The knight made to rise when he saw his lord approach, but Gyles waved him back.

"The storm has lifted, Lord Gyles." The young man shifted nervously, embarrassed that Gyles had found his wife engaged in such a menial task. "We can be away for Camden whenever it pleases you."

Gyles nodded, his eyes following Serena as she rose, rinsed her hands at the washstand, and moved through the hall to take her seat at the table. Gyles took his place beside Serena, openly watching as Serena picked listlessly at her food and obviously relishing her discomfort.

"I have decided," Gyles said at last when Serena pushed her trencher away, "that I do not wish you to return to Camden. But you cannot remain here," Gyles added when he saw the hopeful light in her eyes. "I will deliver you into your father's care. You told me he is ill and desires to see you. I will allow you to stay at Broughton 'til your father wishes to return you to my care or you yourself want to return. Make your preparations, Serena, you have one hour."

The Letters

M
y most gracious husband, Lord Gyles of Camden,

I am honoring my vow; the promise that you extracted from me before your departure to write once every fortnight and thereafter in reply to your letters will be fulfilled.

My father is the same, he has no strength to rise from his pallet but lies abed throughout the day. I read to him often, but he enjoys listening to the gentle strains of the lute far more. Aurelia's presence seems to disturb him greatly, so I restrict her visits as much as possible. Yet when he tries to speak of her, he falters, so I know not whether my actions please him or not.

My father knows not of our estrangement and I must ask you not to enlighten him. He will go to his grave anon and I wish his last days to be as carefree as is possible.

I remain,

Your obedient wife, Lady Serena

* * *

My lawful wife in God, Lady Serena of Camden,

I am pleased that you have remembered your oath. The border lands are not in the state of unrest that was prevalent upon our arrival some two months ago. For the most part the clans are poorly organized and have begun once again to quarrel amongst themselves. The danger here is minimal, yet I hope you have remembered me to God in your prayers.

The crown prince is in command of our army. For all his youth, he is an excellent warrior. Tis, most unfortunate that an accident befell His Majesty a few days ago. Rumor has it he was set upon by a fierce clansman while our detachment of men razed a village. 'Tis odd, but Prince William refuses to answer any questions put to him about the assault. Yet as we bore him back to the encampment, in his madness, he raved and said 'twas I who caused his beating. Tis strange, is it not, wife, that he should lay the blame on my head? Why would I have cause to treat my prince in such a manner? But—thanks to God—Prince William will live. His Majesty will be bedridden for at least a week—the bruises about his face are terrible to look upon.

You need not fear your father will learn anything from me. Tell Lord Geoffrey I hope for his recovery.

I remain,

Your loyal husband, Lord Gyles

* * *

My husband, Lord Gyles of Camden,

Catherine has arrived from Normandy. She and Bryan were wed a fortnight ago. I have taken the liberty of gifting them with a stallion and mare from your stables. They are a wellmatched pair and Bryan is most pleased with their bloodlines.

My father is weakening rapidly; he has barely the strength to eat. Aurelia rarely visits him any longer, which is a blessing. He cannot bear the sight of her.

Beda has arrived from Camden for a visit of unknown duration. She asks for news of your arrangements with Sir Arthur for her hand. What will you have me say?

I remain,

Your obedient wife, Lady Serena

* * *

My wife, Lady Serena of Camden,

Inform Beda that had she remained at Camden she would have learned several weeks ago the outcome of my preparations. Sir Arthur will not have her despite the richness of her dower. She may remain at Camden 'til autumn at which time Beda may retire to her dower estate or a convent. The choice is hers. My patience is at its end with the woman, for when Sir Arthur visited her last, she rudely insulted him and made mock of his offer. I wash my hands of her entirely.

My felicitations to Bryan and Catherine. May their marriage be long and fruitful. I am most pleased with your choice of gifts for them—'tis most fitting and proper. But then, you have always known what is best.

Summer has not yet hit with any great force here as I imagine it already has at Broughton and Camden. The nights and early mornings still carry a chill and the days, though clear, are not as warm as could be wished.

I have sent Edward to Normandy with orders to return with Alan. By the end of July I will be back at Camden and I wish Alan to stay with you until that time. Twill be only a matter of a fortnight's visit and I entrust my son to your gentle care. Tis good to know that in less than a month I shall be in my own home.

Kiss Alan for me, Serena, again, you were right, I do love him.

I am as always,

Your loyal husband, Lord Gyles

* * *

My gracious husband, Lord Gyles of Camden,

Beda and Aurelia have gone to Camden to make preparations for Beda's departure. She is retiring to her dower lands 'til such time as she marries again. Alan's arrival is eagerly awaited by all. You may depend upon Catherine to make your son feel most welcome at Broughton. Though why you did not send him to Elspeth to await you I cannot understand.

If my letter appears stilted, mlord, I must ask your pardon. Lord Geoffrey, my most beloved father, has been dead these ten days past and in my grief I find I cannot honor my vow to you beyond these few lines.

I am,

Your wife in God, Lady Serena

* * *

My most precious wife, Lady Serena of Camden,

I am most sorrowed by the news of your father's death. Were there words which could ease your grief, I would write them, but your heart must find its own path out of the darkness into which it has descended. Lord Geoffrey was a good man, Serena, and you must believe that he felt no sorrow for himself at his death. He led a rich, full life—and he was blessed with a son and daughter who brought him much joy. If I could be so blessed, I would indeed gladly seek my grave for such wealth as that is beyond measure. And such contentment and joy as he found in you and Bryan I long for, yet know I shall never find.

I would not send Alan to Elspeth for the simple reason that she is not his mother. You are. You did not bear Alan in your womb, but rather in your heart, and that, most assuredly, is where a child is born.

What of you, my wife? Are you happy with the path you have chosen? Tis not too late, Serena, all is not lost. One word from you will end this tragic mockery between us. Think upon this.

As ever, I am,

Your faithful husband, Lord Gyles

* * *