Courtly Love (9 page)

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Serena leaned against the wall, her head tilted to one side, as she listened to the minstrel's love ballad. A tiny smile curved her lips and her eyes held a dreamy, far-off quality that unreasonably angered Gyles when he happened to glance her way. Richard joined her and handed her a goblet, and Serena pressed the palm of her hand against his cheek; a gesture that caused Gyles to stiffen and his scar to whiten. Richard bent to Serena's ear and she raised her delicate shoulders in a shrug and laughed teasingly up at him.

Serena had not condescended to speak a word to her husband, but instead had enchanted everyone—at least every knight—that had come within her sphere of influence. Gyles had to admit that Serena was dazzling. Her hair was caught beneath a snood of woven pearls and her dark green dress set off her complexion to decided advantage. Her cheeks contained a hint of color, her mouth the shade of the pastel pink wild roses that grew unbidden in her garden, and Serena's eyes glowed with an excitement that Gyles had never seen before.

Serena was acutely conscious of the burning looks Gyles sent in her direction, but she steadfastly ignored them. Gyles had chosen to condemn her for Bryan's and Richard's behavior—very well then, so be it. If 'twas a marriage of convenience he desired, Serena too could seek contentment elsewhere. He was more remote and aloof than ever before, and Serena damned herself for having let him glimpse the naked yearning of her heart for love. She began slowly, stone by stone, to build a wall about her heart, so that he could not hurt her again.

Where her wounded heart had failed her, Serena's pride did not, and her bearing this evening left no doubt in anyone's mind that she was indeed mistress of Camden. Beda had been relegated to a less obvious seat at the head table and the servants responded willingly and without delay to Serena's every command.

Every movement Serena made was perfectly in keeping with her role, but it seemed she deliberately provoked her husband's ire at every opportunity. She charmed Gyles's friends until every one was willing to happily give his life for her. If Gyles—driven into a savage mood— played the gallant with Beda or any of the other ladies present, Serena retaliated in kind until Gyles came dangerously close to violence as he watched his wife fend off overeager advances. But what drove Gyles perilously near the breaking point was that whenever Serena passed him, she swept into a deep curtsy and did not rise until he had gone some distance from her. Whenever the act was performed, eyebrows raised among both Normans and Saxons, as well as murmured comments about an unnatural marriage. The evening had progressed in this manner until Gyles avoided going anywhere near his wife for fear she would think of some other outrageous act. Gyles was sure Serene had lost her mind.

On the contrary, Serena knew precisely what she was doing as she set the spur deeper into Gyles's pride. She had been deeply hurt and she had set about to repay Gyles in the same coin. But even though her plans were going well, Serena could not help the sinking sensation in her heart that told her Gyles was lost to her forever.

Serena closed her eyes and rested her head against the cool stones of the wall. Instantly a mental image of Gyles appeared behind her closed lids—Gyles as he had looked the afternoon at the pool; his lithe body tall, straight, and bronzed; his powerful arms holding her against him; the weak helpless feeling that invaded every inch of her being as Gyles lowered his head toward her.

No! Serena's eyes flew open. That had not happened, Gyles had not kissed her that day. It was all in her imagination! She must stop dreaming, hoping.

The minstrel had finished his song and was waiting for some show of pleasure from Serena. Distractedly, she tossed him the gold goblet she held. The minstrel bobbed his thanks and continued on his way.

Richard murmured into Serena's ear, "The man spoke truly, Serena. You are, indeed, a feast upon which no man would tire of dining. Come away with me, my love. Tonight. We can be far away from here by first light tomorrow. Once at Balfour we will be safe; no one could harm us there. We will be happy, Serena, I swear it. As soon as your annulment is granted, we shall be wed. Ah, Serena, you shall be my most treasured wife, and I shall teach you the full measure of a man's love. Our children will play where I once did; and never shall I give you cause to doubt my love for you, for I will worship you day and night."

Serena's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Oh, Richard, you spin such lovely tales. I only wish that they could come true."

"They can, Serena! They can!" Richard caught her hands urgently. "Come with me, and all these tales will become real."

Serena shook her head. "It can never be," she said sadly. "Gyles would come after us—he would tear Balfour down stone by stone, kill you, and take me back to Camden. Unjust as it may be, I am his wife and he will keep me until death ends this mockery." Serena gave Richard's hands a gentle squeeze. "Marry, Richard," she implored him. "Marry! Forget me, I beg of you, for my sake and yours. Produce heirs for Balfour; find a wife." Richard watched her closely, and Serena's control nearly vanished at the kindness and love that shone in his eyes. "Go away from Camden and never return. I can bring you naught but pain. Go! Oh, please, Richard, go!" The tears began to spill down her cheeks. "Leave me to my own private hell!"

Serena stumbled blindly toward the stairs, but Gyles blocked her path. Automatically Serena sank into a deep curtsy. A band of pain circled her chest and grew tighter and tighter until she nearly choked with it. Serena was being torn to pieces, her soul severed to bits between Gyles, Alan, Richard, Bryan, and herself. Her breath came in short gulps and seared her lungs.

"Get up!" Gyles snarled.

"I—I cannot, m'lord." Serena gasped.

"Rise, Serena, or I will carry you from here!" Gyles warned.

Serena struggled to obey him. The band of pain tightened further, and Serena felt certain she would swoon. Her legs would not obey her and Serena closed her eyes to try to right the suddenly tilting world.

"Will you leave the hall on your feet or in my arms, Serena? Whichever way you choose, I swear you will pay for your behavior this night." Gyles's voice was harsh.

Serena lifted her tear-streaked face and gave vent to the humiliation that bit so deeply into her heart. "Then beat me! Kill me if you will! I do not care! End this hellish existence you have given me. I am weary of your biting words, your spiteful actions." Gyles's hands closed around Serena's arms and he pulled her roughly to her feet.

How could she alter so quickly, Gyles wondered? The evening had been hers; she had beaten him in their unspoken war. There was not a man present who did not adore her, nor a woman who did not envy Serena her grace and beauty. Gyles stared down at his wife, not daring now to release her for fear she would collapse. She was trembling violently, the tremors passing through her body and up his arms. Gyles caught sight of Richard watching them and a violent wave of anger flooded him. So that was what had reduced Serena to tears! He was tired of Serena's former suitor constantly reminding his wife of what might have been.

"We are retiring, my lady," Gyles said sarcastically. "And if you make a scene, I^will drag you from the hall! Do you understand?"

"Please," Serena begged, the tears flowing freely now. "Let me go. Allow me to find my own peace."

"With Richard? Nay, Serena, not now or ever shall I let you go. You are like a wild mare, you need only to be properly broken."

Serena's temper flared at his words. "You are not the man to do that, m'lord. Better have tried."

"But not in my fashion," Gyles said silkily, and guided her up the steps.

The band of pain diminished, the tears slowly halted as Serena's self-control returned. By the time they entered her chamber, she was in command of herself and she eyed Gyles warily.

"What is it you wish, m'lord? Your husbandly rights?" Serena sneered. "Shall I strip for you or would you prefer to tear the gown from my back?" Gyles's scar showed starkly white against his face. Serena knew her attack was effective and she pressed it home. "Pray tell me how I may pleasure you, m'lord. Shall I rub the weariness from your body? A warm bath perhaps? Wine? No, I can see none of those appeal to you. Then what?" Serena dropped gracefully to her knees. "I am yours to command. Give me an order and I shall obey."

Gyles's features hardened. "How did you pass the day?" He began to wander aimlessly about the room.

"I slept. Alan came to my room and I played with him. I worked on a piece of tapestry." Serena wearied of her game and rose from her knees to seat herself more comfortably on a chair. "Why do you care?"

Gyles ignored the question. "You allowed another to carry your standard and colors. I will not allow you to do so again."

Serena removed her snood and began to uncoil her hair. "Why should Sir Godwin not bear my colors? Are you volunteering to do so? You bear your own so proudly. I cannot believe you would prefer to wear my colors."

"You are my wife, and I will allow no other man to accept such an honor from you." Gyles paused beside the chests that lined one wall. "Bryan tells me you have a set of armor and a coat of mail, I want to see them."

"As you wish." Serena crossed the room to him and opened a chest. She lifted the mail and held it up for his inspection.

Gyles turned it over, eyeing the links critically. "Now the armor." He commanded.

Serena nodded and opened the door that led to the private chapel. "I had no other place to store it, I'm afraid. I thought your men would think it odd if I placed it in the armory."

Gyles ran his hand over the metal. " Tis a fine piece of armor, good workmanship." He lifted it from the floor and found, as he knew he would, that its weight was less than it should have been. Scaled down to suit Serena's size, of course, and light enough so her slight frame would have no difficulty bearing the load of the armor. By the glow of the candle, Gyles could see that Lord Geoffrey had indeed indulged his daughter's boyish whims, for she possessed nearly every weapon imaginable. Gyles replaced the armor and closed the door to the chapel behind him.

Serena had returned to her chair and sat combing the gold-streaked mass of her curls. She kept her back to Gyles when she spoke. "Am I to be allowed to view the lists tomorrow or am I still confined to this room?"

Gyles frowned slightly at her unyielding back. "Do as you wish, Serena, I do not care."

When the door had closed behind her husband, Serena doubled over in the chair as if in great pain.

"
T
he lists have been greatly enjoyed, m'lord."

Edward and Gyles stood behind a parapet on the castle wall. Beneath them, the green field was littered with the knights in their polished, glittering armor, and the spectators milled about. The people's clothing formed bright splashes of color against the meadow as did the pavilions with their standards snapping smartly in the breeze. Gyles had not yet donned his armor and his coat of mail showed dull grey in the morning sun.

Gyles nodded at Edward's observation and clapped the older man's shoulders. "You should have competed, Edward. Those callow youths need a good display of arms. Look at the way they hack at each other. None of them would have lasted a minute at Hastings."

Edward chuckled, "I have my hands full just training the young pups you bring me, m'lord. I fear I am far too old to withstand the irritation of being set upon by any of those gallants." He studied the field briefly. "They have set up the targets, m'lord, we had better descend."

But Gyles was watching the archery range below, his scar deathly pale. A knight in a familiar suit of armor had caught his eye, and while he watched, the knight strung his bow and tested its resiliency. Godwin! Again wearing Serena's coat-of-arms on his shield, though Gyles had expressly forbidden her to give him her favor.

Gyles took the steps two at a time, heedless of Edward's shout: "Sir Gyles! Your armor, m'lord."

He burst into Serena's chamber only to find it empty. With a growled expletive, Gyles turned and hurled himself along the passage, down another flight of steps, through the great hall and outside, where he made for the archery range. Godwin was already at the mark when Gyles arrived and he was forced to cool his heels and rage while that good knight loosed his arrows. With each arrow that found the heart of the target, a cheer went up from the bystanders, and once more Gyles was forced into unwilling admiration for Godwin's marksmanship. Of the five arrows allowed, only the last did not find the center, and Godwin raised a gloved hand in a gesture of indifference before he swung around to leave the field.

Gyles made to follow but found his path blocked by Richard who was stringing his bow. Gyles tried to brush Richard aside and as he moved, tangled his foot in the rawhide, which immediately became emmeshed in the links of his mail. Richard swore as he knelt to free the strip of rawhide.

"I know I am your guest, Lord Gyles, but you must have a care. I am delaying the contest because of your clumsiness and I fear your mail is shredding this string. Squire!" Richard called over his shoulder. "Return to my tent and bring me another string. And be quick about it! If you will stop struggling, m'lord, I can free you the sooner."

Gyles ground his teeth in impatience as he watched Godwin's rapidly retreating figure. By the time Gyles was freed, Godwin had disappeared, and Gyles was forced to return to the castle to retrieve his bow, as it would soon be his turn to compete. As he stamped through the great hall, Gyles nearly collided with Serena. Her face was flushed and her eyes appeared overly bright as she sought to go around him.

Gyles's hand shot out, stilling her movement, and she bent into the by now familiar mocking curtsy. "Where have you been?" Gyles snarled.

"With Alan, m'lord. I lost track of time and must hurry if I am to see Bryan shoot. May I rise?" Serena's voice was breathless.

"You missed Godwin's display then?"

"Godwin? He has already taken part then? How did he fare?" Serena was on her feet now and Gyles could sense the excitement coursing through her.

"Your man fared well. As far as I know he leads the field."

Serena clapped her hands in childlike glee. "Does he really? How wonderful. Please, m'lord, will you release me? I am most eager to be off."

"I can see that." Gyles sneered. "You disobeyed me, Serena. Godwin had your favor again today."

"He asked so prettily, m'lord." Serena's long, tapering fingers came down over Gyles's hand and struggled to loose his grip. "Please, m'lord, I am missing the match!" Serena wailed.

The cold mask of formality and reserve had dropped away and Gyles glimpsed for the first time a side of his wife he had never seen. Serena was young—as he had never been allowed to be—and that youth carried with it an exuberance and vitality she had heretofore carefully suppressed. Serena was vibrant and alive, and Gyles realized she must have felt isolated and lonely when she had been separated from her family and friends, from all that was familiar to her. Gyles had tried to crush her spirit, to subjugate her will to his, and for that he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Serena thrived on what he was incapable of giving—love, a commodity sorely lacking at Camden.

Distressed, Gyles released Serena's arm. "Go then," he said quietly. "Richard is about to shoot, perhaps you will bring him luck." Beside Serena's innocent enthusiasm he felt old and jaded.

Gyles walked slowly to the steps and Serena watched him go with wide eyes. She was suddenly ashamed of the trick she was playing on him—Gyles tried, for all his arrogance and pride to be a fair and just man, but she had given him little chance to prove himself with her. Serena twisted her scarf in her hands. There was no help for it now, she had begun the conspiracy and must see it through. Serena ran from the hall into the dazzling sunlight.