Courtly Love (33 page)

"I fear nothing," Serena called back to Gyles, her words ringing through the hall. "Not the king, queen, that abominable knave William Rufus, not hell, and not you—so why in God's name should I fear giving birth to the only thing in the world that can return my love?" Before Gyles could reply, Serena had vanished from sight.

Once out of Gyles's vision, Serena collapsed against the wall, biting hard on her knuckles until the height of the contraction passed, then made her way carefully to the chamber that had once been her parents' and was now occupied by Bryan and Catherine. Her light knock was answered immediately by Catherine.

"Gyles is staying, Catherine, so you can stop frowning at me and arrange for his chamber—next to mine if 'twill set your mind at rest," Serena teased gently.

"Then all is well between you?" Bryan came forward.

Serena shrugged. "Nothing has been decided yet and 'tis none of your concern anyway. Now, two things I would ask of you both. Bryan, will you help me back to my chamber? And will you, Catherine, find the midwife?" Serena turned to leave, then glanced behind her to find Bryan and Catherine staring at her. Slowly, as if speaking to small children, Serena said, "It has begun and unless you wish to give up your bed for my confinement, may I suggest you make haste?"

Bryan didn't bother to reply but instead took his sister's arm as Catherine ran from the room.

"Are you in much pain?" Bryan questioned softly.

"Not as much as I will be." Serena laughed gaily.

"Do not look so worried, Bryan! I have been waiting for this all these long months—"

"What is going on?" Gyles's roar overrode Serena's voice and before the echo had ceased, Gyles was framed in the doorway. "Catherine just ran past me muttering a prayer and the servants are scurrying abou—"

"Bryan, take Gyles into the schoolroom and keep him there, will you?" Serena's calm gaze contrasted strongly with the grin on her lips. "And, Gyles, stop shouting— you are frightening the servants and my child."

"My God!" Gyles paled beneath the sun-touched skin as knowledge smote him. "Why are you here? You should be in bed! You ... oh, bloody Christ!" Gyles bent to raise Serena in his arms. "Do not stand there gawking, Bryan, do something!"

"Have you a suggestion?" Bryan shouted, angered at Gyles's presumptive manner and Serena's calmness.

"I would like to go to my chamber," Serena put in lightly, grinning widely as she tapped Gyles on his chest, thoroughly enjoying their confusion. "Is that possible?"

"Of course 'tis possible!" Gyles stopped when he realized he, too, was shouting.

"Turn left, the door at the end of the corridor." Serena directed Gyles as he strode through the hall. Then, as he made to deposit her on the bed, "No. I must change first."

"Serena!" Gyles groaned helplessly.

Serena laughed, her thoughts lighter than they had been in months. She should be afraid, but she was not, she had only an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. Soon now . . . her waiting was at an end. She slid behind a dressing screen and as quickly as possible changed into a summer nightdress. Gyles was impatiently waiting and when she emerged, he sprang from the chair on which he had perched to turn down her bed.

"That is not necessary, Gyles, 'twill be some time yet." Serena settled into a chair and picked up her sewing.

"You cannot mean to simply sit there!" Gyles was dumbfounded.

"I can hardly go riding, Gyles." Laughter bubbled up again and Serena gave vent to it. "But we could play a game of chess if you wish. There is a board somewhere ..."

"You are insane, Serena!" Gyles towered above her.

"Not in the least, Gyles." Another cramp began and Serena's fingers tightened around her sewing.

Gyles felt his throat constrict at the sight of Serena's tensing features. "How long?" Gyles managed to force out.

Serena closed her eyes briefly, humor evaporating rapidly as the pain of the contraction lasted longer than the previous ones. "They began this morning." When she could finally speak, Serena's voice was weak.

"You should have told me immediately, Serena, rather than going through that scene below." Gyles's eyes softened to a gentle emerald green that trapped Serena in its depths. "I would take the pain from you if I could."

"But you cannot." Serena could feel her anger at Gyles's betrayal ebb from her heart to be replaced by the love she had tried so diligently to bury. "There is naught in life that does not bring pain at times. My love for you brought pain, the first time you took me was painful; this is only a passing moment in my life, which will soon be over and forgotten and my child will be here for me to love. Life will continue, it always has, it always will."

Gyles's eyes had dropped, his face buried in his large, strong hands as the broad shoulders that had borne so much shuddered with the fear and misery he could no longer contain.

Serena rose and gently pried Gyles's hands away and down to her belly, holding them with her own and smiling through the tears coursing down her cheeks. "You are remembering what you should not. I know what troubles you—not all women are the same, Gyles, you above all should understand that."

Her kindness undid him completely and Gyles pressed his lips into her soft, fragrant hair. "Serena, love. Ah, love, what have I done to you?"

Serena tilted her head upward to give him a tender smile. "You have done no more and no less than any other man. And yet much more."

"Serena . . . love." Gyles caught her face between his hands. "I do love you-—don't leave me, Serena, I could not bear my life without you, love! All my life, wherever I offered my heart, 'twas returned to me in pieces, cast aside ..." his voice caught. "I vowed never to give it again, but... my love, my love, how can I live if you do not?"

"Hush!" Serena told him sharply. "You believe that because one woman died I shall, too. Well, I shall not! Do you think I shall conveniently die so Beda or Elspeth can feel free to test your manhood? They will both learn to keep their distance from my husband. You are mine— only mine. When you are angered, tell me rather than trying 1o find solace in another's bed. If I act unwisely, tell me, and I shall give you the fight you are spoiling for. Only do not turn me away. I am your wife and—"

"Aye." Smiling, Gyles interrupted Serena, the knuckles of his hand stroking her cheek. "You are my wife, my love, my life." Serena would live, he thought hopefully, she was far too stubborn to do otherwise. Gyles bent to place a tender kiss upon Serena's lips.

"Do you love me?" Serena asked in a tight voice.

"Always." Gyles smiled, then froze as Serena's nails bit into his forearms.

"Then . . . will you go . . . and find Catherine?" Serena managed to grit out between clenched teeth. "She went ... for the midwife. My child is . . . impatient."

"Our child," Gyles corrected automatically as he helped Serena toward the bed.

"No!" Serena struggled when she saw where Gyles was leading her. "Not yet, please, back to the chair."

"Serena, you should be abed," Gyles remonstrated.

"No!" Serena was adamant. "Please, Gyles, 'tis not time for that yet." Despite her brave words Serena was beginning to dread the signs that told her another contraction was starting—not fear, but the knowledge that something far worse was still to come put a dent in her courage. "Go . . . find Catherine."

"You should not be alone." Gyles carried Serena to her chair, depositing his precious burden gently on the cushion. "Let me send one of the servants or Bryan."

Serena managed a smile. "As you wish, Gyles."

The second summons was unnecessary for Catherine entered a short time later, the wizened midwife close behind, her grin as toothless as a newborn babe's. She went immediately to Serena, her wrinkled brow furrowing as she deftly examined the young woman.

" 'Twill be a time yet, m'lady." The midwife rose and spotted Gyles. "Who be he?" The indignation she felt at this intrusion was plain.

"My husband." Serena laughed softly. "Does his presence disturb you?"

"Aye—he should be gone. 'Tis not his place to be here." She eyed Serena shrewdly. At last she said, "But he may stay ... if he keeps out of me way. If you wish it."

Oh yes! Serena thought. I wish it dearly. But she said, "You should leave, Gyles. She is right, 'tis not your place. Go with Bryan."

Gyles knelt beside his wife. "If you have need of me, Serena love, send someone."

Serena nodded, her hand going to the scar that marred Gyles's cheek. "Do not fear, for I do not."

Gyles kissed Serena's fingertips and withdrew along with Bryan, the door standing open behind them so Gyles might hear Serena if she called for him.

The midwife gave a brief cackle of laughter then turned her bright eyes on Serena. "Now we begin. Walk, m'lady."

* * *

Bryan and Gyles sat in the great hall, several pitchers of wine and ale on the table between them. The night was cool for August and Bryan had caused a fire to be lit while Gyles had paced restlessly until Bryan had pressed a horn of ale upon him. Now husband and brother sat in silence, each thinking of the woman upstairs whom they both loved. They waited for a sound, a sign, anything that would tell them how near they were to the end of their vigil. Bryan stole a glance at Gyles's grimly set features and was surprised to see a muscle tic in his cheek.
He must care,
Bryan thought, or he would not be so silent. The silence—it invaded every part of the castle, so that even the servants spoke in hushed tones.

Catherine appeared, briefly, to give them an encouraging smile, but that was all. Gyles rose, and when Catherine retreated he stared numbly at the space she had vacated. With a soft curse Gyles drained his horn, refilled it, drained it, and filled it again.
Should it take this long? The pains had begun in the morning and the sun had long since left the sky. How long had Elspeth labored with Alan? Half a day? Longer?

Gyles passed a hand over his face. So many years had passed and yet so few, and at that time Gyles had not cared about the woman laying on the narrow bed, moaning and screaming like some demented creature. Only the child had mattered then, so Gyles had ignored the cries and whimpers and removed himself from their source to wait in the chapel; wait for the screams to stop, wait for the wail of his child. Gyles sprang from his chair with an oath—that was what was missing, there was no sound coming from Serena.

"She is strong," Bryan comforted softly.

"Aye," Gyles replied, his eyes fixed on the stairs. Still he would have been easier had Serena at least been crying.

"Then worry not." Bryan rose and clapped Gyles on the shoulder. "Serena and I were delivered by that selfsame midwife and our mother was of the same build as Serena."

Somewhere above them a door slammed and both turned expectant gazes to the stair. Catherine ran halfway down the steps then paused and motioned for Bryan. Husband and wife held a brief, whispered consultation, each casting anxious glances toward Gyles as they spoke. Catherine whirled to flee back up the stairs while Bryan stood, head bowed, before drawing a deep breath and returning to Gyles.

Gyles wrapped his fingers tightly around his drinking horn, stilling the trembling that shook him while he searched Bryan's face anxiously.

"There is not much time," Bryan began slowly.

"Oh, God!" Gyles sank weakly into a chair.

Bryan recognized his mistake instantly. "Nay, Gyles, 'tis not what you think—there is no difficulty for Serena." Bryan wet his lips nervously before continuing. "While Serena has been here, 'twas obvious that all was not well between you. Serena said very little, 'tis not her way to confide her troubles to others, but she was so unhappy, so terribly controlled—as if she had locked all her emotions away—and Catherine and I—" Bryan spread his hands helplessly "—we couldn't reach her.

"Then one day Richard came for a short visit. He had no way of knowing Serena was here, of course, but ... Richard made her laugh, Gyles."

"You are telling me that Richard visited Serena?" Gyles's scar went white. "And you allowed this?"

"'Twas not a matter of allowing or disallowing, I haven't that control over Serena's life! I want—have always wanted—only happiness for my sister. They talked, played chess, even rode until Serena was certain she was with child. She needed . . . something, someone in her life." Voices sounded from the entrance and Bryan spared a look toward the disturbance. "I only wanted you to know before you misunderstood what is about to happen. From Serena's window Catherine saw him approaching— Richard is here."

Gyles stiffened as footsteps carried into the hall, then inclined his head slightly. "I will not shame you, Bryan, for I, too, desire Serena's happiness. And I thank you for your tender care of her in my absence." He moved with a horn of ale, to a shadowed portion of the hall, to wait

* * *

"Bryan!" Richard came forward to embrace his friend. "No one is about; where are Catherine and Serena?"

Wine was offered and Bryan waited until Richard settled himself before he answered. "Serena is in travail; Catherine is with her."

Richard started, then relaxed. "Well, I shall be glad when this is over. She is well, I take it?"

"As well as she can be under the circumstances," Bryan snapped. "I am glad to see you are not upset by this."

"Bryan, Bryan," Richard clucked his tongue chidingly. "I am concerned about Serena, but I have had months to adjust to her condition. As for the bastard's whelp I care not a fig. Twould be a blessing if it died." He smiled at Bryan's gasp. "Surely you agree with me, Bryan. After all, what would Serena do with a babe and no husband? She hasn't one, you know, the bastard returned a month ago and hasn't yet been to see her, though he entertained the Lady Elspeth for a few days."

Bryan's eyes glittered coldly as he studied the shadowed corners of the hall. "How do you know this?"

Richard tossed his blond head. "Your dear stepmother, Aurelia. She has been most helpful." Richard shrugged. "What does Serena plan to do with the brat once 'tis whelped?"

"Do?" Bryan repeated stupidly.

"Yes, Bryan, do!" Richard snarled. "She cannot mean to keep it. I fail to understand why Serena insisted upon nurturing that seed in her belly when I knew of a woman who could remedy that embarrassment, but I allowed it because for some reason 'twas important to her. But I will not allow her to keep the brat if it lives. She can send it to her bastard husband if she wishes, but 'twill not be brought into my home. You look shocked, Bryan, you shouldn't be. When Serena is recovered I will come for her, she will be mine as she should have been from the first. She is not untouched, I have accepted that, but I'll not accept another man's child—especially not his!"

Bryan stared. "Has Serena agreed to this?"

Richard laughed. "Agreed? What choice does she have—go back to Camden? Hardly. Serena's pride would never allow that. Stay here? Impossible, for she knows you would release her to the bastard whenever he asked. Nay, Bryan, she need not agree, just see where her only escape lies."

A drinking horn shattered against the stones of the hearth and Richard found himself sprawled full length in the rushes as his chair was kicked from beneath him. Strong hands grasped his tunic and Richard was lifted upward until his toes brushed the floor.

"I gave Bryan my word," Gyles ground out, his eyes throwing green sparks, his face set grimly, "that I would not disgrace his home, I will honor my word because Bryan wishes it so." For a brief instant Gyles nearly cast honor aside when he saw the sneer on Richard's lips, and his fingers tightened around Richard's throat.
Despicable pup!

"Gyles!" Bryan's voice was horrified. "Gyles, you're choking him!"

Reluctantly, Gyles loosened his grip, allowing Richard to fall gracelessly back into the rushes. "Because of my word, but listen well. Stay away from Serena—my wife and child are not your affair."

Richard sprang to his feet, his eyes dilated wildly. "Serena is mine! She has always been mine!" Richard's hand fell to his sword. "You will never claim her again, I swear it. Be on your guard, Lord Gyles, for you will not know your wife and child long—I'll see you food for the worms first." He turned and ran from the hall.

Sinking back into his chair, Bryan stared after Richard, his brow furrowed with worry. "Richard doesn't mean what he said, Gyles. He only said those things to anger you."

"Richard didn't know I was here, Bryan, remember?" Gyles folded his arms across his chest, then his voice sharpened. "Is what he said true? Did he ask Serena to deny our child life?"

"If he did, Serena made no mention of it. Mayhap he suggested it and Serena gave him such a tongue-lashing for his trouble that she decided 'twas best forgotten. Had Richard been insistent, Serena would not have continued to receive him."

"Then his jealousy has driven all reason from him," Gyles muttered. "And if he tries to see Serena again I will see him whipped."

"Understand, Gyles—" Bryan started to plead.

"Nay! Richard believes he loves Serena. I do not like it, but I can accept the fact. But I will not tolerate his interference in my life or Serena's any longer. He should long ago have accepted our marriage." Gyles slammed a fist on the table to accent his words.

"Cease your bickering." Catherine shrilled from the steps. "Are you both mad?" Catherine's face was ashen, the hand that rose to her wildly disarrayed hair trembled violently.

Bryan went to Catherine and led her to a chair, shaking his head as Gyles made to speak. Catherine buried her head in her folded arms and began to cry wretchedly as Bryan smoothed the auburn hair back from her face.

Turning from the scene before him, Gyles felt a cold helplessness surge through his veins.
Don't think!
His heart screamed.
If she were dead Catherine would have told you. A hard labor, 'tis all, and Catherine had not known what it would be like. Serena, Serena, do not give in, I need you.

Bryan cradled Catherine in his arms while her weeping quieted. "The midwife . . . she made me leave. I ... I couldn't bear it any longer. She's not human— making Serena walk during the pain, and now when she cannot walk alone, the midwife keeps pulling her around the chamber. And Serena hasn't made a sound, just sets her jaw and shakes her head when the midwife tells her to walk."

"The babe?" Gyles questioned Catherine in such a dispassionate voice that she longed to claw at his green eyes with her nails. "It lives?"

"Yes," Catherine replied stiffly. H
ow could he be so coldly unfeeling? Did he care nothing for the woman who was going through agony to give life to his child?
Catherine was about to give voice to her thoughts when Gyles presented his back to her and stalked through the hall and up the stairs.