Courtly Love (34 page)

* * *

The door to Serena's chamber had been left open to permit what breeze there was to circulate freely. Her hair had been tied hastily on top of her head, but a few wisps had escaped and now clung damply to her face and neck as Serena wrapped shaking hands around the bed-post for support. How long could this go on? She moaned inwardly. As if she were a tiny cork, wave after wave of pain picked her up in its swell and hurled her forward toward release only to trap her again and again in its depths. How did my mother bear this, how did she go through this twice and still survive? Another pain was starting and Serena ground her forehead against the bed-post.

"Walk!" The midwife was tugging at her again, trying to loosen Serena's grip.

"I—cannot," Serena snarled down at the midwife.

"You must if you wish to hasten this birth!"

Hasten!
Serena jeered silently. She had been walking for hours and the babe was no closer to being born than it had been before. "Nothing will hasten this!" Serena choked out as the crest of the pain hit.

"It must be done," the midwife insisted in a wheedling tone. Demands had not reached the girl she had delivered nineteen years ago, so a different attack must be used. "When the next pain comes, we will walk and soon you will hold your babe—"

"I cannot!" Serena was adamant.

"Why can you not, wife?" Gyles's form stood in the doorway. "Are you so weak you cannot give my son life?"

"Weak?" Serena screeched in disbelief. "You dare accuse me—you blackguard, knave!"

Gyles smiled in the face of Serena's rising anger while inwardly his heart wrenched at the sight of her trembling form. He glanced briefly at the midwife and saw the growing concern in her eyes as she skillfully pressed her hands against Serena's abdomen. The babe had to be delivered soon, Gyles knew, and Serena seemed to have lost the strength to carry the labor through. Grim resolve bolstered Gyles's flagging courage, and he strode forward to pull the midwife's hands from Serena.

"At the next pain, you will walk as you have been told." Slim fingers tightened painfully about his upper arms and Gyles hardened himself against the pleading he saw reflected in Serena's wide azure eyes. Gyles gave her a gentle shake. "You will do as you have been told."

"I cannot!" Serena whispered, then set her jaw as another pain began.

"Walk!" Gyles roughly dragged Serena's hands from his arms. "Or I will drag you if I must to see my son safely born."

Sheer stubbornness came to her aid and Serena forced herself to keep pace with her husband. At last it was over as Gyles realized from the decreased pressure on his hand and he guided Serena toward a chair.

"No, 'twill be easier if I remain on my feet."

Gyles nodded and passed a cool cloth handed him by the midwife over Serena's face and throat. " Twas not so bad, was it?" he asked gently.

"It hurts, Gyles!" Serena cried softly.

"I know, cherie." Gyles smoothed the wisps of hair from Serena's forehead. " 'Twill soon be over if you—" he had almost said "if you can hold on a bit longer" but checked himself in time. Gyles continued, "If you but bend your willfullness to the task."

A spark of humor gleamed in the depths of her eyes as Serena replied, "My willfullness, sir knight, has naught to do with—" she broke off with a quiet gasp as another spasm bent her in half and a gush of liquid soaked her gown and the floor.

With each pain, Gyles guided Serena about the boundaries of the room and when she felt she could stand no longer he did as he had threatened and dragged her mercilessly beside him.

"No ... no more," Serena gasped. The candles had burned themselves out once and had been replaced with fresh ones that were now burned nearly halfway down. Serena collapsed against Gyles. "I . . . cannot. M-my legs . . . will not hold me any longer."

" Tis good!" The midwife pronounced with relief. "Now you will help me, m'lord."

As he was directed, Gyles carried Serena to the bed, watching in horror as the midwife proceeded to tie strips of linen first to the bedposts and then to Serena's wrists and ankles. A roll of several thicknesses of leather was thrust between Serena's teeth and Gyles retreated a step before the starkly primitive twist her features had taken.

"You go now!" The midwife jabbed a forefinger at Gyles. "And tell Lady Catherine she is needed."

Catherine returned to the chamber, unwillingly, and Gyles slumped in a chair, his courage gone. He worried no longer about Serena's silence, for now her agonized groans floated down to the two waiting men. Gyles had spent most of his life controlling his emotions and reactions in front of others and he did so now, maintaining a rigidly imposed impassive expression while his eyes stared blankly at some indefinite point in space. Inwardly, Gyles's heart twisted with every sound; Serena's cries beating against his ears like sword against armor.
Soon, God, please,
Gyles found himself praying,
make an end to this.

But his prayer was unanswered and night dragged on into morning with the servants reappearing to go quietly about the task of preparing the morning meal for the knights who would soon be coming to break their fast. Gyles shook his dark head brusquely at the girl who offered him a platter of food and glanced at Bryan who toyed with his own meal. Bryan met Gyles's look and abruptly pushed out of his chair. A blood-curdling scream clawed through the air and Gyles felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle with fear. In back of him, an earthen pitcher fell to the floor and shattered, the servant who had carried it stood round-eyed, eyes fixed on the staircase.

Hard on the heels of the dying echo of the scream came a second, prolonged wail—that of an infant hardily enraged at being brought from the security of its mother's womb. Gyles took the stairs three at a time, his powerful legs bringing him swiftly to Serena's chamber where he paused, uncertain whether to enter.

"Come!" Catherine, laughing and weeping, beckoned to him. "Come, Gyles, see your son!"

A tiny bundle of squalling humanity was thrust into his hands and Gyles carefully pulled the swaddling back to expose the face. Hair black as night, eyes the color of pure sapphire, Gyles's second son screamed his protest at his father, while Gyles grinned stupidly at the red face. Catherine gently took the babe back into her arms and smiled at Gyles.

"You may see Serena if you wish, but do not tarry overlong, the midwife has instructed she rest." Catherine and the midwife retreated to a far corner of the room to deposit the babe in his cradle.

Gyles padded softly to Serena and eased himself onto the side of the bed. Serena's eyes flickered open and she managed a weak smile, which he returned.

"You have your son," Serena whispered.

"Aye." Gyles raised both of Serena's hands to his lips. "Our son, Serena, and I thank you for him. He is much the image of his mother."

"And his father," Serena added sleepily. Bringing Gyles's hand to her cheek, Serena fell into an exhausted slumber.

* * *

"What say you!" Aurelia exploded at her stepson. "You and Catherine had no right to take my chamber!"

Bryan closed his eyes wearily, it had been a long, trying evening and he wished only to see his sister and her child and retire to his pallet. Bryan sighed, "Aurelia, you are no longer lady of the manor. I have allowed you to stay at Broughton because I believed my father would have wished it so, but you will remember your place! Catherine will arrange for you to have any chamber you desire, but for now, cause no further trouble, the night has been long and I am weary."

Pale blue eyes bored into Bryan. "I care not for your problems nor for what ails you and I demand—" Aurelia gasped at the sight of Gyles striding arrogantly through the hall. "You! What are you doing here?"

A smirk played about the corners of his mouth as Gyles bent over her hand. "Lady Aurelia, as always your charm leaves me breathless. You have seen your dear sister safely to her dower estate?" Aurelia snatched her hand away and Gyles laughed as he turned to Bryan. "Look in on Serena if you like, but do not wake her."

"Wake her!" Aurelia spat. "Has day become night and night become day of a sudden?" Then with a speculative gleam. "Has Serena taken ill?"

Bryan ignored her, so she focused her attention on Gyles. "She is well then? And the child?"

Gyles laughed again at the eagerness in Bryan's face. "Serena is well, needing only sleep and time in which to recover. And I have a son, a fine healthy son who already promises much." At the hissed intake of breath behind him, Gyles turned. "Will you not extend your good wishes, Aurelia?"

Aurelia lowered her eyes before Bryan or Gyles could see their malevolent glitter. All my plans! She thought. "But of course, Gyles, 'tis a shock to me is all. Had I known, I would have stayed here to aid Serena during her confinement."

Bryan snorted, "I am sure Serena would have been most grateful!" The sarcasm was heavy in his voice. "I will inform Catherine you have returned."

As he watched Bryan depart, Gyles was conscious of Aurelia's careful regard, but when he turned, her gaze had shifted elsewhere. Idly, Gyles asked, "Lady Beda is well?"

"She is as well as can be expected, having been cast out of her home to make her way as best she can. How could you do such a thing to one of your own country-women? Even Bryan, base Saxon though he is, has decreed I may stay at Broughton as long as I wish; while you, a Norman—"

Gyles raised a hand in an imperious gesture for silence. "Had Beda acted less shrewishly toward Lord Arthur she would have been married this summer. I had set her in a most favorable light to that good man and she saw fit to destroy that which I had carefully labored to build. Do not blame me for your sister's stupidity, 'twas only when she deliberately set those plans awry that I ordered her return to her dower lands."

"Feel you no guilt?" Aurelia persisted.

"Guilt? Nay, not for my actions toward your sister. I have my father's wife to care for as well as my half-sister, and I have been most lax in my duty to them, which I shall remedy as best I may."

"But you love Beda!" Aurelia sputtered. Clouded green eyes coldly appraised Serena's stepmother. "What portion of that emotion I still retain after dealing with those such as yourself and your sister is given fully to the woman upstairs and my two sons. I never thanked you for arranging my union with Serena, did I, Aurelia? Twas indeed the finest plot you ever turned your hand to, and had it not been for you and Beda, I would never have found the contentment I have now."

* * *

Aurelia repressed the angry words that sprang to her tongue and walked haughtily away from the mocking smile Gyles bestowed upon her. The sanctuary of her chamber gained, Aurelia paced restlessly, her white brow lined in thought. At last her expression brightened and Aurelia hurriedly set quill to parchment, scratched a few lines and sealed the missive. Descending to the great hall, Aurelia sought out one of the knights who had accompanied her to England from her home in Normandy. His obedience and loyalty had been tested often, and Aurelia had no doubt where his allegiance lay.

"Sir Cavell," Aurelia murmured when the knight was at her side. "I must bid you return to my sister and deliver this letter safe into her hands."

Sir Cavell slipped the note inside his jerkin and nodded. "As you wish, m'lady."

"Understand," Aurelia warned sharply, "my sister only must receive this letter, entrust it into no one else's care. And tell none of your comrades where you are bound."

Sir Cavell inclined his head once again. "I understand, m'lady. I shall leave anon." With a bow, he departed.

As soon as he had finished the midday meal, Gyles made his way again to Serena's chamber. At the midwife's urging—for she was uncertain as to the duration of Serena's recovery—a wet nurse had been obtained and now sat beside the infant's cradle, waiting patiently until the child would need her. Gyles knelt beside the cradle and extended a long forefinger to stroke the velvet skin of his son's cheek. The babe stirred in his sleep and Gyles hastily withdrew his hand and crossed the room to Serena's bed.

How small she looked; how tired and frail with purple shadows ringing her eyes. Carefully Gyles placed one of her hands in his and seated himself on the bed. A small sound issued from Serena's throat and she turned her head toward Gyles, a hint of a smile on her lips as if. sensing his presence.

"Still sleeping?" Catherine's quiet voice startled Gyles and he looked up to find her standing beside him.

"Aye." Gyles glanced again at Serena as he framed his next question. "The birth .. . was it.. . difficult?"

" 'Twould be a lie if I told you 'twas easy." Catherine spread her hands in front of her. "You saw part of it yourself, Gyles—'twas a long labor, exhausting for Serena because the child was backward. Had it been me, I would have given up, but not Serena."

"No," Gyles looked at the delicate hand laying in his. "Serena would fight to the end for the child. The midwife, did she say . . . another child . . . could Serena endure it?" Gyles's sight blurred for his fears had not abated, and if another child would mean Serena's life then he would absent himself from Serena's bed, completely this time so there would be no possibility.

"You do care for her!" Catherine's surprised voice broke into Gyles's thoughts. Then with a reassuring smile she said, "The midwife proclaimed her most fit, Gyles."

"I cannot help fearing . .."

"Your fears are much of your own making, Gyles," Catherine told him roughly. "There are risks for every woman who bears a child, Serena included. But she is in no greater danger than any other—look for yourself! Serena is alive and quite well and when she fully recovers I doubt she would take kindly to your pleasuring yourself on another." Catherine sniffed and flounced from the room.

Gyles stared after her in slack-jawed amazement.

Sweet, docile Catherine had gained a barbed tongue since he had last seen her. Serena's influence no doubt, Gyles thought wryly, a smile teasing his lips when he recalled how often he had exchanged heated words with his wife. And how pleasant had been their reconciliations! Gyles shrugged off the last of his fears, feeling his heart lighten immensely. At long last he had a family; a wife, two sons who would know the love of a mother and father, which Gyles had been denied, and there would be more children, of that Gyles was certain. Gyles looked down at Serena and was startled to find Serena awake and watching him with wide sapphire eyes.

"The child?" Serena murmured.

"Sleeping," Gyles replied, brushing a light kiss on her forehead. "And his mother?"

Serena smoothed the covers over her stomach with a small laugh. "Much lighter and flatter! Gyles ... I am glad you came."

"Even though you did not ask me?" Gyles teased.

Smiling at his bantering tone Serena pulled a second pillow beneath her head, her efforts aided when Gyles lifted her upright and fluffed the pillow into place. "I believed you did not want me—and certainly not my child. Your letters told me nothing of your feelings."

"And your letters, madame, were full of love and warmth?" Gyles rebuked her. "Better I should have written to Bryan in your stead, I would have known of the babe much sooner. I warn you now, Serena, the next time you find yourself with child I will not be so put off."

"Aye, Gyles, the next time I shall be safe within Camden's walls," Serena assured him. "Have you any name in mind for our son?"

Gyles's eyebrows raised "Serena, I barely knew of his coming, how could I have chosen a name?"

"Then, if you have no objection, Gyles, I would like to name him Evan. Tis a good name, in the Welsh it means a highborn young warrior."

"You have given much thought to this, I can see. What if I do not agree?" Gyles laughed, then instantly was sorry as Serena's face fell. "Cherie, you may call our son by any name you so desire, I did but jest with you. Evan it shall be."

Evan was christened the same night, held securely in his father's arms, while his mother watched from the bed, her blue eyes blazing with love and triumph.