Courtly Love (23 page)

"You are far away from us, petite Serena." Henry's voice drew Serena back to her surroundings, and he smiled down into her warm blue eyes. "Or perhaps only as far as where your husband bides." The color rose in her cheeks, and Serena glanced about the room only to realize that Matilda had retired to her bedchamber and the tailor was maintaining a discreet distance. Henry's lean fingers stroked the fur near where Serena's hand lay. "My mother has grown most fond of you, m'lady. Indeed, the court has brightened much since your arrival."

Serena smiled uncertainly, feeling herself drawn once more by the force of Henry's personality. "You are too kind, Your Highness."

"Nay, I speak only the truth as I see it." Henry's fingers left the fur and he moved a space apart from her. "Have you ventured forth to see the city?"

"I have not had that pleasure as yet, Your Highness. It seems that whenever I have a day to myself, my lord does not; and the reverse is also true."

Henry considered her thoughtfully. "I had planned to visit an armorer in London on the morrow. It would please me greatly if you would accompany me—with your lord, if he finds himself free," he added hastily as an uncertain look flickered across Serena's face. "My mother would be most unwilling to spare your company, but I am sure I can persuade her to release you into my care. And you need not fear that Will shall intrude, I will see to it he is occupied elsewhere."

Serena gazed into Henry's soft brown eyes. How different were the two brothers born to the same parents! Since their first meeting, Serena found herself wary of William's attentions. While he made no overt moves, William managed to be present whenever Serena found herself separated from Gyles or Bryan, and he left no doubt in Serena's mind as to his motives. Even while William sneered his insults to her, his gaze boldly devoured Serena's delicate form, as if the clothing she wore was non-existent. How did one go about putting a prince in his place, Serena wondered. It would not be beneath William to convince his mother to demand that Serena remain in London when Gyles returned to Camden, and who then would protect her honor from that odious princeling?

"Lady Serena," Henry snapped his fingers beneath her nose. " Tis rude to ignore your prince."

Serena's already pinkened cheeks heightened in color. "Your forgiveness, I pray, Your Highness. 'Twas not my wont to be impolite."

Henry's silver laughter rang through the room. "Methinks, fair lady, that you take me far too seriously. Which in itself is a refreshing change from the rest of the court," Henry remarked soberly. " Tis not often a third son is looked upon with more than pity, for when compared to his brothers, he has naught to commend him to others."

Serena's tender heart went out to the young man standing beside her. It was true; she found William more overwhelming in his manner than Henry; yet Henry bore himself with a regality William could never hope to match. What cruel twist of fate had decreed that William should one day rule England, while, at most, Henry could only hope for a purse and perhaps a small estate? None at court sought Henry's favor, but rather spent their time begging William's generosity—which to Serena's eye was buried so deeply no mortal could hope to find it. For a brief moment, Serena found herself pitying Henry, but then common sense prevailed. Henry wanted no friend because of that demeaning emotion, but rather he wished it to be given because of who he was, not what he was.

Henry was awaiting her answer and she gave him a fleeting smile. "I must speak to my lord, Your Highness. If he grants his approval, I should be most happy to tour the city with you. Indeed, I would be most honored."

As it happened, Serena had no opportunity to inform Gyles of Henry's proposal. Matilda was in a bad humor and Serena discarded half a dozen gowns before the queen settled on the one she would wear. Then Matilda's hair required dressing, and just as Serena patted the last curl in place, Matilda decided she wished it arranged differently. Out came the ribbons and the entire process began again. At last Matilda was satisfied and Serena heaved a sigh of relief as the queen released her for the remainder of the evening. Serena hurried from the chamber and raced through the passages, the skirt of her gown held high in her clenched fists.

Serena burst into the room and immediately began pulling the gown over her head, and in her haste Serena heard the rending sound as a shoulder seam gave way beneath her frantic efforts.

"Damn!" The word exploded from Serena's lips as she hurled the torn garment on the bed then threw open the armoire and pawed through it until she found the gown she wanted. The gown was a brilliant shade of red, which enhanced Serena's milky complexion while at the same time it lent a rosy hue to her cheeks. Serena had hoped to arrange her hair with matching ribbons, but there was no time left for that, so Serena nimbly tucked a few stray tendrils of hair back into the snood and with one final glance at her face in a hand mirror, she left the room at a rapid pace.

The meal was already in progress when Serena entered the hall and she slipped as unobtrusively as possible to her place beside Gyles. Bryan threw Serena a knowing grin at her flustered appearance from across the table while Catherine's expression was totally enigmatic.

Gyles poured wine in her goblet, then bent to Serena. "You are late," he accused his wife softly.

Serena took a sip of wine before answering. "It couldn't be helped." Her blue eyes sparkled up at Gyles. "But 'tis nice to know you missed me. Did Catherine find you this morning?"

Gyles cast a glance across the table at Catherine's suddenly tight face and nodded. "Didn't Catherine tell you?"

Serena swallowed a mouthful of beef. "I haven't spoken with anyone save Matilda, Henry, and the tailor all day. I don't know what's gotten into the queen today, but I didn't have a moment to myself. I am sorry about our ride, Gyles."

" Tis naught." Gyles's large hand covered hers briefly. "There will be another day."

The meal was completed and the tables swiftly cleared. Serena strolled leisurely through the hall with Gyles while they viewed the preparations being made for the coming Christmas festivities. A Yule log of gigantic proportions was being dragged the length of the hall, raising such a cloud of dust from the rushes that Serena began to cough and her eyes watered. Gyles guided her from the disturbance to a place where the air was cleaner, and laughed.

At Serena's questioning look Gyles pointed upward to where a sprig of mistletoe had been hung on the wall. "We have had little enough privacy this past fortnight," Gyles sighed. "I would be much happier if the queen held you in lesser esteem. You rise when I do and often return late into the night." His green eyes burned into Serena with an intensity that left her breathless and trembling as his face lowered to hers. "I have been too much a monk of late, Serena, which is a situation only you can remedy."

Serena nearly melted against Gyles. His distressing behavior in their bed still continued and more often than not, Serena knew Gyles turned away from her even when his raging desire demanded fulfillment. Serena would have argued away Gyles's fear, if she had thought she could convince him that his fear was groundless, but she knew Gyles well enough to realize that that tactic would be useless. Her only salvation lay with the hope that in time Gyles's memory of the ghastly birth that haunted his thoughts would fade.

Gyles's mouth hovered near Serena's lips and, in fact, her closeness had driven all other thoughts from his mind. His passion flared deep within his loins and Gyles knew his insatiable desire as severely as a thirsting man feels the need for water. For the briefest yet tenderest of moments, their lips met and they stood apart from the rest of the world. Gyles drew back, allowing his darkened green eyes to leisurely caress his wife. Against the red of her dress, Serena's skin took on an alabaster translucence that caused Gyles's breath to catch in his throat. A pulse beat at the base of the slim column of her throat and Gyles stared at the spot, fascinated by that fluttering movement.

Serena leaned carefully against the wall, afraid that if she strove to move the effort would prove too great and she would collapse into Gyles's arms. What power he held over her, that a look, a touch could reduce her to a state of such utter weakness. She was as dependent upon Gyles for life as she was upon air to breathe or food to eat. How she longed to draw his head to her breast and hold him, wiping out all memories of pain he had ever suffered.

"So delicate. So fragile." Gyles's left hand curved around the back of Serena's head while his right lifted her face upward.

"Not so fragile, m'lord." Serena's lips parted in a smile. "I'll best you in a tourney yet."

Gyles's brows pulled downward in a frown. "You would not dare. Not again."

"Test my anger and you will discover the truth for yourself," Serena replied with spirit.

"How touching!" A sardonic voice beside them sneered, causing Serena to start; and without looking up, she knew that William had been observing Gyles and herself for some time.

Gyles's hands fell from Serena's face, but he placed his arm around her waist then moved slowly to her side, as if reluctant to allow William to gaze upon his wife.

"Your Majesty." Gyles's tone was barely civil.

William's eyes flicked derisively over Gyles before coming to rest upon Serena. "Ah, our fair Saxon maid, how enchanting you look. I had despaired of finding anything of note in this country 'til you ventured to court."

Serena colored. "You are most gracious, Your Majesty. But England has much to offer." An increased pressure at her waist warned Serena to silence.

"Indeed, Your Majesty," Gyles added, "there are parts of England that rival our native land in their beauty."

William dismissed the words with a wave of his ham-like hand. "All I have seen of this country is unpleasant—rocky, tempest-ridden shores; icy winds; treacherous men, and serpent-tongued women!"

Beside Gyles, Serena stiffened, and glancing down he could see the flinty sparks begin to fly from her eyes. Serena could barely restrain the words that flew to her lips. How dare he? How dare he! His father had come and nearly destroyed the best England had to offer, and now this pompous, blustering jackass dared to . . . Serena's eyes narrowed in anger and her lips parted to give voice to her thoughts.

"You must visit Camden, Your Majesty," Gyles smoothly intervened. "To my mind, 'tis the loveliest of places on this isle, though my wife would readily argue that Broughton claims that honor. Would you not, Serena?"

"Nay, Gyles, for both hold different splendors," Serena ground out.

"Perhaps that is true." William fixed Serena with a calculating stare. "But your Saxon wife has proved the last part of my findings—these women have tongues like knives. I much prefer our gentle Norman women. Is this not also true of you, Sir Gyles?"

A wry smile twisted Gyles's lips. "In truth, Your Highness, in the dark I have found no difference between the two."

* * *

Serena's first reaction to her husband's glib statement was one of anger, but then a far better idea took hold. She rested her hand lightly upon Gyles's arm and smiled pertly up at him. "Indeed, Gyles, 'twould appear to be the same between Saxon and Norman men. Though I vow the good Lady Diane could find fault with that statement. Indeed, Your Highness," Serena's vengeful blue gaze pierced through William, "save for my stalwart husband, I, too, have found the Norman men far lacking by our Saxon standards."

William's head reared back as if slapped and his face suffused with blood. It was common knowledge to the court that he dallied almost nightly with Lady Diane— one of his mother's ladies—and she had much to say on the subject of his performance—or lack of it—and she cared not who was her audience. William's mouth opened to retort, but the words caught in his throat when another voice joined their conversation.

"Surely, fair Serena, not all Norman men?" Henry asked with a teasing smile. "I will grant you that some of us are more crude than others, but I beg you not to form any hasty opinions."

His speech finished, Henry bore her fingertips to his lips before he turned to Gyles. "You have the good fortune, Sir Gyles, to have made the most beautiful woman in England your own. You have my congratulations . . . and my envy."

"Hah!" William snorted and stalked off.

"I really must teach him better manners one day," Henry mused as he watched his brother depart. Then turning back to Serena, he smiled.

Serena's eyes sparkled in return. "You have my thanks, Your Highness. It seems you are forever coming to my rescue."

Gyles observed the exchange with cold displeasure; finding Henry's attentiveness no less irritating than William's caustic comments. Serena was bantering lightly with Henry and Gyles's eyes flickered briefly as the prince bent closer to speak to Serena. Gyles studied Serena, unable to find any fault with her behavior save that the reserve he had felt in her of late seemed to have evaporated. Was it his imagination or did Serena's eyes sparkle more than usual, was her color a bit higher? And why should either William or Henry bother to pursue her when there were women at court far more willing and experienced to lead them a merry chase? That Serena was attractive Gyles could not deny, but surely she was far too delicate for William's taste and too quicktempered. But Henry . . . there was a growing warmth in his eyes that Gyles did not care for and, with his easy manner, Henry had put Serena completely at ease.

"May I, Gyles?" Serena's hand was resting on his arm and with an effort Gyles brought his attention back to the conversation.

Henry took Gyles's silence as reluctance, so he hastened to add, "You need not fear for your lady's safety, Sir Gyles, on that point I can assure you. I shall borrow her only for the day and return her to you before evening."

Gyles bowed ever so slightly from the waist. "My lady is free to do as she chooses, Your Highness. And she often does," Gyles added beneath his breath.

But Henry had already raised Serena's hand in farewell. "I shall send, a page for you at mid-morning. Until then, fair Serena." And with a last smile, he was gone.

"I am sorry." Serena turned to Gyles, laughter still rich in her voice. "I meant to speak with you of Henry's invitation, but—"

"Henry?" Gyles raised one dark eyebrow. "How did you come to be so friendly that you may address him by other than his title?"

Serena was taken aback. "I do not address him with other than his title when we speak together."

"Of course," Gyles stated drily, "I had forgotten your fondness for titles. It took you what . . . five, six months before you called your own husband by name? What a pity you haven't that much time to spend at court. No doubt you would have both princes dancing attendance upon you."

Serena's temper flared beneath his accusation. "At least, dear Gyles, you need not contend with any former lovers of mine while I, it seems, meet your paramours continuously! Some day, sweet husband, you must gather them all at Camden so I may have a full accounting!" Serena whirled to leave, then spun back and her words lashed at his already jarred nerves. "And if 'tis of any matter to you, your pallet this night is beside the fire. See that you remember that."

Serena gained their chamber and for a long moment contemplated barring the door against Gyles. "Let him find some other place to rest his head," Serena sneered at the door.

There was an abundance of women at court who would be honored to share their bed with him. Serena was neither deaf nor blind and the whispered conversations and admiring glances had not escaped her notice these past weeks. 'Twas all very well for Gyles to strut and prance for the ladies of the court, but let her, Serena, say so much as a kind word to a knight and Gyles accused her of dallying. The more she dwelled upon the matter, the higher rose her ire, and in frustration Serena snatched up the earthenware pitcher from its table and sailed it across the room to shatter against the wall. The basin followed its mate to the wall and the next object to catch Serena's eye was the unfortunate table, and with a hearty kick it skittered along the floor to rest against the door.

The door opened slowly, paused, then was pushed wide and Serena faced it, breasts heaving in anger, blue eyes sending daggers at the man framed in the portal. Gyles placed one foot cautiously inside the room, and when no missiles flew at him, confidence returned and he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Serena gave a disdainful sniff then flounced about the room, folding away the gown she had worn during the day and giving her attention to her preparations for bed.

Gyles leaned lazily against the door, arms folded over his chest, enjoying to the fullest the glimpse he caught of a small, round breast, a shapely buttock and a slim leg. Serena felt his heated gaze upon her and turned to face Gyles as she laced the neckline of her nightgown.

"Is it your intent to stand there all night or were you planning to go out again?" Serena flung at him.

Gyles lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug while he gave Serena a mocking smile. "Which would you prefer, cherie?"

Blue eyes flicked brazenly over Gyles. "I," she stated clearly, "care not a whit. Do whatever pleases you."

Gyles sauntered toward her and Serena retreated, all too aware of what darkened his eyes to a deep emerald green. Gyles leisurely stretched out his arm and twisted a hand in Serena's hair. Serena gasped in outrage and her hands came up to tug at the lean forearm beside her cheek, but she had not foreseen Gyles's next move as his free hand locked in the fabric of her gown and tore it leisurely from her neck to her waist. This time it was Gyles's turn to have misread the extent of Serena's anger, for her knee was moving before he was aware of it and found its mark with amazing accuracy, if not with any great strength; and Gyles's hands quickly loosed their hold to assuage his pained groin. Serena spun out of reach, snatched Gyles's pillow from the bed, and hurled it at his head. The coverlet and a blanket followed quickly and as Gyles disengaged himself from their cumbersome folds he saw Serena shrug out of her torn gown and heave that at him as well.

"Enough!" Gyles bellowed at her through the material while his hands worked to free himself. At last his face emerged and his green eyes clouded in anger. "In the name of the saints, woman, what is the matter with you?"

"Me!" Serena shrieked at him. "You brainless oaf! You accuse me of playing you false and then have the nerve to ask me what is the matter?"

"Do you deny toying with Henry's attentions? Or William's?" Gyles advanced upon Serena. "Do you say you are true to your vows?"

"If you can even put such a question to me, then my answer will make no difference." Serena brushed by Gyles and after a moment's searching, slipped another nightgown over her head. "Since we wed you have done naught but accuse me of deserting my vows, first with Richard, now with Henry or William. That you can say such a thing to me proves you know me not at all." She pointed to the heap of bedclothes. "There is your bed. Take your rest upon it from now on."

Gyles snorted. "A typical woman's trick—denying her mate the pleasures of his married status."

"I have denied you naught—ever," Serena told him in a voice so cold Gyles hardly recognized it. "And since you will have this out, very well. I like Prince Henry and enjoy his companionship greatly. He asks nothing of me save that I be myself, and that he readily accepts. He does not set upon me at every turn and pounce on every word I speak. Learn now, Gyles, that I choose my own friends—man and woman—and I do not take kindly to your censure when you seem to think 'tis a fine thing to spread your favors among the women here. Choose one road or the other, Gyles, but not both."

"Are you demanding an apology, wife?" Gyles sneered down at her. "If so, be warned. For hell will freeze before you hear one from my lips." He reached out, catching Serena by the shoulders and pulled her to him. "But I will enjoy my rights with you."

Beneath his burning lips Serena remained unyielding, her blue eyes dispassionate as she stared over his bowed head at the fire, while Gyles's mouth nibbled at her neck. His hands cupped her breasts and Serena thrust away the feeling of pleasure that surged through her blood.

"May I remove my gown before you render this one useless as well?" Serena inquired coolly.

Gyles's head snapped up and Serena felt little satisfaction at the hurt that showed momentarily in his green eyes. "Damn you!" Gyles hissed through clenched teeth. But his hands fell to his sides.

"For the way I feel about you, I am probably already consigned to hell," Serena answered softly. "I do not need your help to speed me on my way."