Courtly Love Read online

  Gyles gave an impatient wave of his hand. "It makes no difference, Serena could have been killed today."

  "The risks were no greater than when she tilted, Gyles."

  "Tilted!" Gyles swung on Bryan and caught the collar of his tunic with both hands. "You were fool enough to help her joust? Who, in God's name, was her opponent? Godwin?"

  "Nay, Gyles, 'twas you." Serena's quiet voice carried over the echo of her husband's shouting. Serena stood at the adjoining door, her chamber robe falling in soft folds around her body, one hand resting lightly against the wall for support. Gyles was whitefaced with rage as he viewed his wife; his body stiff and unbending.

  Bryan smiled. "Well, sister mine, I can see there are no ill effects. I have been trying to convince your husband ..."

  "Yes, I heard you—both of you—as Fm sure the greater part of the castle did. Would you leave us now, Bryan?"

  It was a command, not a request, and, accordingly, Bryan drained his glass and retired.

  Serena made her way to a chair, receiving neither assistance from Gyles nor a sympathetic look. She folded her hands primly in her lap and watched her husband expectantly. "If you must berate someone, m'lord, 'tis I who should receive the sharp edge of your tongue, not Bryan." Gyles remained silent and unmoving so she continued. "If you are waiting for an excuse or an apology, you will have a long wait, for I will give you neither. I am what I am, and you must accept that."

  Still Gyles did not speak, only studied her with his unwavering green gaze, which Serena returned. The silence grew until it filled the room and grated on Serena's ears. Eventually she sighed and rose to leave. "You are a stubborn, arrogant man, m'lord."

  "Sit down! I did not give you permission to leave!" Gyles pulled a second chair up to face Serena. He drew his hands over his face before he spoke. "Why?"

  Delicate hands with long, tapering fingers spread themselves in a helpless gesture. "I do not think I can explain—and I doubt you would understand if I could."

  "I may—why do you try so hard not to be a woman?"

  Serena tilted her head, considering, and then shrugged. "Is that what you think—that I wish to be a man?" She was silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on some unseen object, lower lip caught in her teeth. "Perhaps in some respects you are right. I would have others respect me for myself, not merely because I have a passable face or because my body induces lust in some. I have a mind—I think and feel the same as does a man." Tears sprang to her eyes and choked her voice. "Do you think the jests of your men and the old lord's family when I came here did not hurt me? They did—the words cut deeply—the taunts wounded me more deeply than Beda's dagger. To be treated like . . . like a possession ... an object to be used at someone else's whim, 'tis a degradation I hope you never feel, m'lord. A woman has as much pride, as much honor as a man, but she is treated as if she had none! A horse is treated with more respect—at least it has a use, a value, which, it appears, a woman does not. A woman is needed only to provide heirs for her mate, after that is accomplished, of what further use is she? None!"

  " 'Tis not always that way, Serena."

  "No?" Serena cut across his speech. " 'Tis a common practice for a husband to receive an annulment if his wife is barren, as you well know." Tears flowed freely now and her voice rose. "Is that what will happen to me if I fail to bear you children, m'lord? Will I be set aside, cast out, stripped of whatever I could once call mine? The night of our wedding you asked only if I would bear your children, not if I would be happy as your wife. What if I am barren? Will you rid yourself of me? Am I only a womb with attached limbs?"

  "Serena ..." Gyles half-rose from his chair.

  "What do you see when you look at me? Do you see a human being who thinks and feels much as you do? Or do you see only a female—a body to be used how and when you wish? What am I to you?"

  Her last words were wrenchingly sobbed out, and Serena buried her face in her hands, the gold-streaked hair tumbling forward to obscure her tears from Gyles. Gyles sat frozen in his chair, his mind clouded by Serena's questions and his heart aching for the crushed dreams she had had. He was trying to understand, but he could not. Every woman was content to be a wife; to be protected, to worry about nothing more pressing than what colors to choose for the tapestry she was making, or whether her new gown should be trimmed in fox or ermine. What need had Serena of more? What was it she demanded from him? If he could love her, would it be enough, would whatever drove her from contentment be dissipated? No other woman Gyles had known had troubled him as did Serena, no other had tried to reach his mind rather than his loins; and in doing so Serena had confused him as badly as she herself was confused. Gyles strove mightily to see behind her words and nearly blundered.

  "What is it you want from me, Serena? Your freedom? An end to our marriage?"

  Serena nearly went to him then, for though he tried to conceal it, there was pain in Gyles's voice. But instinct held her back. Serena brushed the tears from her face with the back of her hand. It was hopeless, he couldn't understand ... he didn't know.

  Gyles studied his hands, wanting to grant Serena what she wished, but not knowing how. Then, suddenly—"The lists. That is why you broke your word? To prove something to me?"

  "In part. I was angry, hurt. First Bryan's slurs, then your anger with me. I wanted to strike back, to hurt you as I had been hurt."

  "You might have been killed out there!" Serena shook her head. "Though you may not believe it, I took great care. There is no glory in defeating so small an opponent, m'lord, you were in far greater danger than I. I never intended for you to find me out."

  The pieces began to fall into place. "There is no Godwin, is there, Serena?"

  "No. Tis the name I used at Broughton. Believe me, m'lord, I meant not to disgrace you."

  Gyles rose and framed Serena's face with his hands. "There is no disgrace, Serena, you fought well. In truth, I doubt you could ever do anything that would disgrace me. Ah, Serena, will I ever understand you?"

  "Will you try, m'lord? Do you want to understand me?" Serena caught his hands in hers. "I wish to know you, not the face you present to others, but the side I am sure you have buried so deeply that no one can reach."

  "You will be disappointed, Serena. You have called me arrogant, proud, cruel—to that you must also add stubborn, for that I am—but there is little more to me. If you search for love and tenderness; beware, for they cannot be found in my heart, I have none."

  "You love Alan," Serena objected.

  "I explained that before." Gyles dropped his hands and moved from her. " "Tis responsibility I feel, nothing more."

  "And I? Am I also a 'responsibility' to you? Is that why you raged at Bryan, because you might have lost one of your possessions?"

  Gyles turned an anguished face to Serena. "Forgive me," he said thickly. "I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, but I cannot. I cannot!"

  Serena went to him then, her slender arms wrapping themselves around his waist. "You will, in time," she assured him. "Wishing to love is half the battle."

  "Serena..."

  Serena raised her face to his. "One final question, then we shall speak no more of this. Do you at least desire me? Will I in fact be your wife?"

  Gyles smiled and raised a curl to his lips. "That is two questions, wife, which would you have me answer? Do you wish me to admit to lust?" In one fluid motion Gyles lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed. His weight followed hers down and Gyles covered Serena's body with his own. "I confess, I desire you," he whispered against her lips, "and were you well, I would claim you now and with such force that you would beg me to cease."

  Beneath his fingers Serena's robe fell open and the breath caught in her throat as Gyles explored where no man had gone before. His hands, his mouth, caressed, teased, burned wherever they touched until Serena writhed beneath his touch.

  "I... I would not ask you to stop," Serena gasped.

  Gyles's mouth caught at her breast, tugging gently,
teasing the nipples into hard, taut peaks while his hand moved lower over her abdomen until it found the soft hair between her thighs.

  Gyles's face loomed over her, green eyes burning with desire. "No more 'mlord' between us ever. No more separate chambers with a door to hinder my attentions." His lips slanted across hers with a violence born of long denied need. "You will in fact be mine and soon, very soon I will no longer lie alone with an ache for you so deep within me that I come near to losing my mind." Gyles pulled her robe closed and smoothed Serena's hair. "But for now, you must rest. This night will be long and tiring, for you must be the proper lady of the manor despite the fact your head may hurt." He gave Serena a wicked grin, a quick kiss on her lips and sprang from the bed to adjust his binding clothing. "I must see to our guests."

  "Gyles!" Serena wailed and pushed herself upright. "You cannot do this to me!"

  "Do what, Serena?" Gyles had already poured a glass of ale and stood gazing at Serena, savoring her state of dishabille, his green eyes blazing anew as her movements disarranged her robe.

  "You know!" Serena sputtered. She followed Gyles from the bed and stood before him. A tapered forefinger poked at Gyles's chest. "You, Gyles, are a knave! Oooh . . . you, you . . . "Tis not fair to set me afire and then leave, Gyles, you know what I mean!"

  "Are you so eager for my embrace, ma petite?"

  "Yes!" Serena retorted baldly and Gyles's eyebrows flew upward. "Don't look so shocked, why shouldn't I admit it? Why should I not be allowed my lust as you are allowed yours?"

  "Serena, Serena. I think I shall never tire of you for you never fail to surprise me." Gyles shook his head and laughed. "I am leaving because I must, Serena," Gyles said quickly as she opened her mouth to argue. "The combat is over and I must be present to laud the victor; you are fully aware of that. Were it not for that, I would happily remain to deflower you," he teased.

  "My Lord Gyles of Camden, you are crude!" Serena gasped, shocked to the core.

  "So I have been accused! Aah, wife, you are blushing. Is it now your turn to be shocked?"

  "You needn't be so ... so blunt, Gyles," Serena rebuked him, softly.

  "Some women would have found it amusing."

  "I did not!" Serena snapped.

  "Careful, my sweet, your temper is showing," Gyles admonished, and pulled her stiff body into his arms.

  Unexpectedly, Serena yielded. "You are right, of course, Gyles," she murmured against his broad chest. "I have no wish to argue further. I fear I am too sensitive; I beg your forgiveness for my harsh and hasty words." She raised herself on tiptoe and brushed Gyles's lips. His arms tightened, but Serena wriggled free. "I shall rest and join you later." Her blue eyes sparkled as Serena glided from the room.

  She leaned against the door and laughed softly when she heard Gyles utter a muffled curse and slam the door as he left the room. She slipped into the bed and closed her eyes. Her head did hurt and she could do with a short nap and a bath. Serena's eyes clouded—Gyles would be in the hall by now, surrounded by the other knights and, inevitably, adoring women. The scene was vivid in Serena's imagination. Ah, Gyles, my dearest husband, tonight I shall make sure you have eyes for none other than myself. And I will make you want me as badly as I desire you! Serena drifted into sleep with a bewitching smile on her lips.

  * * *

  Gyles was in a strange mood according to the guests who knew him. He smiled and jested, laughed at the bawdy jokes that made the rounds, and ignored the overtures made him by the ladies present—much to everyone's surprise. Beda attempted to press her attentions upon him, and Gyles brushed her clinging hand away as if it was an insect that annoyed him. His eyes traveled constantly to the staircase—eager, expectant, burning a brilliant green in his bronze face.

  "Are you waiting for your bitch of a wife to appear, Gyles?" Beda hissed. "No doubt she's found someone else to occupy your spot in her bed." Beda smiled venomously when Gyles finally turned his attention on her, the scar on his face was white and his jaw tense. Beda leaned toward him to whisper conspiratorially. "I have heard that she welcomes the knight Godwin to her chamber. For that alone you should kill him and divorce her!" Surprising her, Gyles threw back his head and laughed, unshared amusement clear in his eyes. "I should not think your wife's unfaithfulness a source of humor, Gyles."

  Gyles controlled his mirth with an effort. "Not that it concerns you, Beda, but whenever Godwin has visited Serena, I have been present. In truth, all three of us are the best of friends." Beda's mouth closed with a snap and she made to depart, but Gyles halted her. "I have received an offer for your hand that I am considering. How look you upon Sir Arthur of Darnley?"

  "Gyles, you would not!" Beda's eyes were incredulous. "I have no wish to marry again."

  "What you wish does not signify, Beda. When you marry Arthur, all your dower lands go with you and he is most satisfied with the terms of the bargain."

  "You are doing this only to be rid of me!"

  "True, Beda. One widow here is enough. Hopefully someone will offer for Mara soon."

  "Then you and that Saxon slut will have Camden all to yourselves," Beda interrupted.

  "Guard your tongue, Beda. Serena is my wife and I will not have you sharpening your, tongue at her expense. Besides," Gyles eyed Beda speculatively, "I doubt we shall be alone long, children have been known to happen."

  "You think Serena will bear your children?" Beda jeered. "Do not raise your hopes, for her skill with herbs can easily find a potion to keep her barren. No matter how you may sweat over her, Serena will give you no heirs." Beda's words had an ominous ring to Gyles, and he paled beneath his tan. Satisfied, Beda left Gyles to his thoughts.

  Determinedly, Gyles pushed Beda's vile words from him. Serena—she was not capable of doing such a thing, even if she bore no love for the child's father. He was sure that Serena did bear him some affection, she had nearly told him so. But Alan's mother had sworn she loved me, Gyles mused, yet she wished to destroy Alan before his birth. Why must I always doubt, why can I not believe in Serena? Must I forever believe the worst of others? Beda seeks only to further her own ends. Serena fights me, true, but only when she feels I am wrong. Serena, Gyles thought desperately, come to me, I have need of you! I begin to doubt what I have found!

  As if in response to his plea, Serena appeared at the head of the stairs, her eyes searching the hall for her husband. Her smile when she found Gyles was brighter than the candles that lit the hall, and his fears began to recede. Serena made her way slowly into the hall and to Gyles, pausing now and then to exchange pleasantries, allowing Gyles to feast his eyes upon her. Serena had dressed with special care, choosing one of her gowns that was cut to reveal the soft texture of her breasts. Circling her neck was a necklace of delicate gold links—Gyles's wedding gift to her, which she had never worn—and her hair was caught up to the top of her head with ribbons so that the sun-touched curls cascaded down her back and shoulders. His breath caught in his throat as Gyles watched Serena—hips swaying gently—approach him. She stood looking up at him, her subtle fragrance enveloping him. Serena took the goblet from his hand and sipped daintily at its contents, her eyes never leaving Gyles's face for a moment.

  "You are playing havoc on the nerves of every man here, Serena," Gyles told her in a low voice.

  "Indeed?" Serena questioned archly. She traced the rim of the goblet with a forefinger. "Does that include you, Gyles?" Serena moved closer, so their bodies almost touched. "Or are you immune?"

  "That I am not, for I am human, and your nearness stirs me deeply." Gyles spoke lightly, but his mind warred with his urges for control. It would be a long evening indeed if Serena continued to toy with him in this manner.

  "You will turn my head with your compliments, Gyles." Serena returned his cup and brushed lightly against him. "I would stay if I could, but I must be about my duties."

  Gyles's hand stayed her. "You are playing the tease, Serena."

  "Yes, Gyles, but only for you." Serena eyed him consi
deringly. "I have decided I am far too unworldly and the remedy of that fate is entirely in your hands. You have often been to William's court, tell me," she smoothed the bodice of her gown, "is the cut of my gown proper?"

  Her bosom was daringly displayed to Gyles's devouring gaze, and he groaned, "Proper enough, especially if you are intent upon seduction."

  "Oh?" Serena chewed thoughtfully on a fingernail. "And my hair—is it all right?"

  "Beautiful, Serena."

  "Do you think—"

  "Enough, Serena! Spare me the rest of your toilet, I beg of you!" It was all Gyles could do to keep from crushing Serena to him as it was without having her question him about her obvious assets.

  Serena laughed, softly, "Gyles, I believe I've caused you to blush."

  Gyles's face was, in fact, flushed, but not from embarrassment. "Shall I cause you to do the same?" He grinned down at her. "I can, you know—remember our wedding day? Since then I've learned a great deal more about what can bring the color to your cheeks."

  Serena pinkened but laughed good humoredly, "Shall we attend our guests together, Gyles? That should save us both from embarrassment."

  The evening passed with Serena never out of arm's reach of Gyles, which caused his men to nudge each other knowingly. The harsh words and strained behavior previously common between Gyles and Serena had disappeared and the glances they exchanged could almost be called loving. Where before Gyles had ignored the men who flocked to range themselves about Serena, he now warned them off with looks that caused their blood to chill.

  "What's gotten into him?" one of the younger knights sulked to Edward. " Tis impossible to have a word with Lady Serena without being interrupted by Gyles."

  Edward had noted his lord's changed behavior and —believing it a good thing—smiled into his ale. "Why should you wish a private word with the lady? She will grant you nothing beyond a smile and a few kind words, despite what you may hope." The younger knight flushed dully as Edward continued. "My advice is to turn your attentions to one of the serving maids; you'll have better luck and less chance of having your head separated from your shoulders."