Courtly Love (11 page)

"What?" Gyles asked dumbly. This was no time to be concerned with Serena's armor.

"The helm!" Bryan snapped. "Is there a sharp edge on the inside?"

Gyles picked up the discarded helm and ran a finger around its edge. There! A part of the inner rim seam had not been hammered down, but had been left standing. It would cause no discomfort when worn, but a blow to the head ...

"Well?" Bryan asked sharply.

"Aye, Bryan, there's an unfinished seam," Gyles answered.

"I thought as much." Bryan's fingers parted Serena's tresses at the hairline, exposing a thin cut a few inches above her ear. He gave Gyles a shaky smile. "She'll be fine, Gyles, your blow merely caused her to lose her senses."

"Thank God!" Richard whispered and made to lift Serena in his arms.

"Take your hands from my wife," Gyles ground out. "If you ever touch her again, I will see you dead." Gyles carefully raised Serena in his arms and set off for the castle.

Once inside the comparative safety of Serena's chamber, Gyles allowed the mask he had held so carefully in place in front of the others to slip, and his handsome face contorted in agony. Tenderly, he placed Serena on the bed and removed first her armor and then the mail. He gave a choked laugh when he saw the altered clothes Serena wore to protect her delicate skin from the links of mail. Gently he pulled those from her as well, then found a cloth and water and bathed her, washing the caked blood and grime from Serena's body and face. Gyles left her for a moment in order to search through the chests for a chamber robe, and having found one, he returned and clumsily dropped it over her shoulders and finally succeeded in pulling it down the length of her body.

Serena stirred and whimpered softly when Gyles moved her again to slip her beneath a linen sheet. She quieted immediately and Gyles dropped a light kiss on her forehead when the door opened to admit Nellwyn.

"See to your mistress," Gyles snapped. "When she wakes, send for me." He spun on his heel and left the room.

Outside Bryan waited, and a short distance from him stood Richard. Gyles sent a withering look at Richard then turned to Bryan.

"I want to see you!" Gyles snarled.

Bryan had the audacity to grin at his sister's husband. "Yes, I rather thought you might." He followed Gyles into his chamber.

"Of all the addlepated, senseless, insane tricks to pull!" Gyles thundered as soon as the door closed behind Bryan. He paced wildly about the room, divesting himself of his armor as he worked himself into a towering rage. "Serena is little more than a child, and a woman into the bargain, so I can excuse her behavior on the grounds that she doesn't know any better; but you should have. How long did you think she could have lasted out there?"

Bryan viewed Gyles's agitation calmly and poured himself some wine before answering. "It appears to me, my baby sister held her own quite well. She was one of the last on the field, remember. And save for a piece of sharp metal, Serena might still be on the field. I know not how Norman women behave, but 'tis not unusual for a Saxon woman to follow her father or husband into battle. The custom is used less often now, but two and three generations ago, Saxon men viewed this action as the supreme testimony of love and devotion from their women."

"It's barbaric!" Gyles's anger was not appeased. "And stupid. A woman is no match for a man; Serena proved that today."

"Oh? Serena defeated all opponents save you today —without assistance. You must have noticed she relies not on physical strength but skill. And she has had the benefit of fine tutors. As for the practice being stupid, ask my father some day how he met my mother." Gyles's raised eyebrow invited Bryan to continue. "She unseated him in a joust. You see, Serena is her mother's daughter."

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?"