Courtly Love (18 page)

A Prince of the Realm

G
yles cast a glance over his shoulder, assuring himself that his entourage was close behind him. His gaze rested upon Serena where she rode beside one of the younger knights—Justin by name—apparently enjoying whatever tale he was regaling her with, and Gyles bestowed a withering look on the pair. Annoyed, Gyles turned to his squire.

"Bid my lady wife come to my side," Gyles growled. "You shall ride beside Sir Justin for the remainder of our journey."

"Yes, m'lord." The squire wheeled his horse and rode back to the middle of the column to deliver his message.

It was not long before Serena drew abreast of Gyles and smiled winningly up at him. "Thank you for asking me to ride with you, Gyles, I was growing quite lonely back there."

Gyles snorted but made no reply. In the ten days allowed them to pack and travel to London, Serena's behavior had totally bewildered Gyles. The morning following that disastrous evening, Nellwyn had come to Gyles and informed him that Serena was awake and feeling better if he cared to see her. Gyles had approached her chamber with great misgivings, but had relaxed when Serena had smiled warmly.

Gyles had taken the delicate hand she extended and raised it to his lips. "You look well. How do you feel, Serena?"

"I am fine, Gyles, a bit groggy from the potion I took last night, but other than that, I am quite fit."

Gyles had sat on the edge of the bed. "Serena, for my words yesterday, I apologize."

Serena had been puzzled. "Your words ... I am sorry, Gyles, but I do not remember. Did we argue?"

Serena's eyes were soft, with a gentle glow, and Gyles had pressed his lips upon hers. " 'Twas only a small misunderstanding, Serena, of no great importance."

Serena had given him a small smile. "I have been thinking about Christmas, Gyles. Would it be possible or us to hold some sort of festivities for the children here? A • repast for them and perhaps some games for them to play?"

"I will see that Lydia and Mara attend to it. You do not remember that we must be at court within ten days, but Lydia and Mara have chosen to remain behind."

Serena's face had fallen, but she accepted the news calmly. The tisane she had swallowed had given her the appearance of a small kitten wanting to be cuddled, and Serena curled against Gyles with a sigh, resting her cheek on the palm of his hand and she drifted into a quiet sleep.

As the days of preparation passed. Serena had returned to share Gyles's bed but had said nothing of his abstinence. Indeed, she seemed totally oblivious to the fact as she and Nellwyn packed and sewed the necessary items for their journey. At first Gyles avoided their chamber until he was certain Serena would be asleep but after a week he actually began to enjoy once again the quiet, private hours he spent with his wife. His only trial both at Camden and during their journey was when Serena, seeking warmth, molded herself against him in the night. Several times Gyles had come fully awake to discover his hands tracing the soft curves of Serena's body, and Gyles had cursed himself silently for his body's betrayal.

But the past two days, Serena had taken to riding beside Justin, and Gyles had privately wondered if Serena's indifference lay in the fact that one of his own men was satisfying her needs.

"You will no longer devote your attentions to Sir Justin," Gyles told Serena abruptly.

Serena looked at her husband in surprise. "I did but ride with him, Gyles," she chided.

"For two days! I saw the intimate conversations you carried on!" Gyles growled.

To his surprise, Serena laughed up at him. "Gyles! I have asked you repeatedly to tell me of William's court, and you have repeatedly refused. Sir Justin has been kind enough to enlighten me somewhat." Serena's voice lowered and she moved her mount closer to Gyles. "Surely you are not jealous."

Gyles's face hardened and the thin line of his scar whitened against the windrubbed red of his cheek. He leaned over and grasped Serena's wrist painfully. "You are mine, my wife, and I'll not have you encouraging some man into a dalliance."

Serena touched her lips to the lean fingers that circled her wrist. "Tis the furthest thought from my mind."

Gyles relented and wrapped the folds of Serena's cloak more securely around her. "What is it you wish to know of the court?"

Serena's first impression of London was one of total chaos. People crowded the streets, making it impossible for the mounted column to continue with any speed, and more often than not, Gyles was forced to call a halt so that a herd of sheep or swine could pass in front of them. Roving peddlers plied their trade, adding to the confusion, calling out the prices of their wares in shrill tones that carried easily over the general hubbub. Brightly painted stalls nestled together on the sides of the streets, and it was from this vantage point that wealthier merchants sold their goods. Cloth, baubles, lace, armor; all could be purchased on the streets. For a nominal fee, one could purchase meat—fresh slaughtered, roasted, or cured—wines from England or Normandy, pastries freshly baked and stuffed with those fruits the bakers had been farsighted enough to preserve, which, Gyles informed Serena, would soon disappear during the course of the winter.

Women, too, were available for a few coins. The strumpets Serena easily recognized on her own from the bold, inviting looks they bestowed upon the men in the retinue. Gyles particularly came under their ribald scrutiny and jests, and from the knowing looks one or two of the women gave herself and Gyles, Serena knew that Gyles had dipped into his purse more than once during his last stay in London. Surprisingly, the thought did not disturb Serena—after all, Gyles was a man of vigorous appetites and she could not fault him for sating his needs, so long as he had not continued those activities since their marriage. Fidelity was not the norm between spouses, but Serena expected it from her mate and would countenance no deviation from the wedding vows by her husband. A quick glance at Gyles showed Serena that this daylight confrontation with his one-time bedmates had caused a dull flush to creep from his neck and into his face.

Seized by a fit of deviltry, Serena said with mock concern, "Gyles, are you not feeling well? Your face is quite flushed. Have you caught a chill?"

Gyles shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. " Tis the wind," he said gruffly. "It rubs the cheeks quite raw."

"Of course," Serena murmured solicitously. "I have a cream that will heal the chafed skin, and when we are settled, I shall apply it to your cheeks."

Gyles turned an even deeper shade of red under Serena's uncompromising stare. "You can see the castle from here." Gyles pointed over the tops of the buildings.

Serena's face fell. " 'Tis not as large as I had imagined."

Gyles laughed. " 'Tis large enough, Serena, from here you can see only the upper stories. One day I shall take you to a hill where you can look down rather than up at the castle and you will see how grand it actually is."

Serena was still disappointed. "If you say so."

Gyles's lips thinned in anger. "What did you think to find, Serena, all of London overshadowed by a castle? Towers so high they pierced the clouds and continued into the heavens? Walls lined with fur-trimmed guards that would herald your arrival? Tis time you grew up and faced life as it is rather than view everything through those romantic dreams you still cling to."

At his unkind words. Serena's chin began to tremble. "I see life most clearly, Gyles, but that need not stop me from wishing it different, or trying to change what I believe is wrong. Had you answered my questions at Camden rather than dismissing them as trivial, we should both have been spared your anger. And that, Gyles, I see very plainly," Serena said softly.

Her quiet rebuke stung Gyles into a pensive silence. Serena was right, of course. With no knowledge of London or the court, how could she form an accurate picture of what to expect? Indeed, no woman Gyles had ever known could face life as straight-forwardly as Serena did. When problems arose, she faced them head-on. without resorting to tears and wails concerning her lot in life, and she always sought a sound, logical solution. She was an admirable, independent woman, this lass who had been forced into his life, and as Gyles studied her delicate profile, he felt an overwhelming thankfulness in his heart that God had seen fit to grant him such a mate.

The column had wound its way through the streets and was approaching the bridge that crossed the Thames when Serena drew her mount up short with a horrified gasp.

"Don't look!" Gyles told her sharply and made to shield Serena's eyes.

Serena batted his hand away and stared, transfixed, at the gory sight in front of her. Three disembodied heads floated grotesquely on pikes directly above the bridge, their eyes staring sightlessly at passersby, the skin falling in lax folds from their cheekbones. The heads had been pelted with dirt and refuse and the bodies that had once obeyed the commands of the now-deteriorating brains must have suffered nameless agonies before death gave them release, for the mouths gaped open in eternal, silent screams. Even as Serena watched a carrion crow dropped from the sky to light upon one of the skulls and sink its beak into a blind eye.

"Gyl-Gyles, what—what could they have done?" Serena's throat was so dry she could barely speak.

"Treason, most likely. This is the usual punishment. Their bodies have probably been drawn and quartered."

Serena blanched and pressed her hand to her mouth. An awful vision of Gyles undergoing the same fate passed through Serena's mind, and she forced herself to choke out a final question. "What is the sentence for murder?"

Gyles turned his head deliberately to the grisly spectacle before answering in a toneless voice. "Exile at the least; at the worst, the same as that." He drew a deep breath, then reached out to squeeze Serena's shoulder reassuringly. "Do not dwell on it, Serena, for it will not happen." Serena was as pale as the snow on the ground and a shudder passed over her. "Are you able to control your mount?" Gyles asked.

Serena raised her head in a defiant gesture Gyles knew all too well and nodded. "Let us get away from here as quickly as possible and I will be fine!"

As Gyles had said, there was no fanfare to greet their arrival at court, but when Serena excitedly surveyed the furnishings of the royal court, any disappointment she may have felt quickly evaporated. The housecarl led them through hallways lined with tapestries and around the men and women who darted from one room to another, apparently on important business for their lord—or perhaps the king himself! The richly dressed people, Serena assumed, were there at the king's request as she was. She wished she had had the time to rearrange her hair and change from the travel-stained gown she wore. Following the housecarl through a seemingly endless maze of corridors and arches, Serena recalled her earlier statement about the castle's size and she laughed inwardly. All of Camden and Broughton could easily fit within these walls and neither had such rich appointments. Small tables and chairs sat outside nearly every doorway and knights bearing the royal standard on their chest guarded the entrance to every corridor they passed through. At last Serena gave up trying to retain her sense of direction and was only too glad when they reached their chamber.

The servant bowed from the room and Serena pulled the cloak from her shoulders and capered about the room. "I have never seen anything like this! Look, Gyles," she lifted a candlestick, "solid gold!" Serena fingered the curtains of the bed. "And the threads of this brocade are silver—real silver—and the coverlet, Gyles, what kind of fur is this?" Serena demanded.

"Mink. Imported from France because of its softness and warmth," Gyles informed her.

Serena bounced on the bed to test its softness. "Did you notice all the tapestries, Gyles? Do you have any idea how long it takes to make one hanging? All of Normandy must have been sewing for years! Look, even the floor is covered with pelts!" Serena kicked off her slippers and curled her cold toes in the fur. "Surely, 'tis a sin to be surrounded by such luxury, so I shall have to say a penance for enjoying it so much." She grinned up at her husband and fell back upon the bed to rub her cheek against the soft fur.

Gyles looked down at her in amusement. "I can well imagine that you will demand I purchase some of these luxuries to return with us to Camden."

Serena laughed. "Nay, Gyles, 'tis fine for the court, but I should not be able to live with it constantly, for in truth, it does make me feel ill at ease. Mink did you say?" Gyles nodded then gave a shout as Serena's foot shot out and tripped him so that he fell beside her on the mattress.

Instantly Gyles's arm caught Serena to him and he began to tickle her unmercifully while she responded in kind. Soon both were laughing helplessly and Serena's head came to rest upon his shoulder.

"You, Serena, are a vixen, and totally beyond my comprehension."

Serena giggled happily and placed a kiss on his cheek. "And you are a brute to attack someone much smaller than yourself."

Gyles's arm tightened and he pulled Serena beneath him. Her face was tinged with pink from their play and her hair had escaped its ribbons as it tumbled around her shoulders. Serena's eyes widened while she looked up at him and they held a soft glow, her lips parted slightly in invitation and Gyles lowered his head and touched her lips in the tenderest of kisses. A knock at the door jolted them apart and Serena leaped from the bed as if scalded.

Gyles rose and quickly rearranged his tunic. "Enter," he called.

A small boy in the dress of a page came hesitantly into the room. "The Lady Serena is bid to accompany me to the queen," he said in a high, piping voice; the words obviously learned by rote, for his brow was furrowed in concentration. "Her Majesty regrets that she must call so soon upon your services and sends her most profound apologies to Lord Gyles and yourself."