Courtly Love (36 page)

* * *

Alone in her chamber Sarena mused over Richard's odd behavior. He acted as if the past year and a half had never happened! As if she were a maiden still with no marriage vows, husband, or child. Child! Richard had not asked about her child—he hadn't asked if she'd given birth to a boy or girl, hadn't asked to see the babe. . . .

A cold finger of terror crept up Serena's spine and she tried to shake it off.
Oh, but I'm being silly!
Serena told herself.
If Gyles could see me now he would laugh at me. Gyles would say my imaginings are besting me. Richard didn't ask about Evan because he already knew—Bryan undoubtedly wrote Richard immediately after I gave birth. As for Richard's manner, well, he is an old friend and is acting much as Bryan has been behaving. Nothing odd or suspicious in that.

Serena found herself gazing through the same arrow slit that Gyles had stood before three weeks earlier. Three weeks? It seemed more like three years since Gyles had left. Leaning against the wall, arms hugging her sides, Serena drove all bleak thoughts from her mind, concentrating instead on Camden and Gyles. Gyles, my own love, my heart, mine! Serena's heart fairly sang as she shaped a mental image of her husband. The black hair that curled ever so gently at the nape of his neck and was so soft to the touch of her fingers; a straight, slim nose set between green eyes that clouded to a muted shade when Gyles was angry, threw shards of brilliant emerald when angered, or softened to fathomless green when he held Serena in his arms. Serena closed her eyes, imagining the gentle, insistent pressure of Gyles's lips against her mouth, throat, breasts. Gyles's hands slowly removing her cumbersome garments; caressing, arousing, lifting her against his hard chest.

A few more days, Serena reminded her willfull body as she dragged her thoughts back to safer ground. A short nap—as Richard had suggested—Serena reflected wryly. Her dreams were sure to be pleasant.

* * *

Flanked by Richard and Bryan, Serena cantered happily through the gaming woods of Broughton. Richard's odd behavior persisted, but in her newly regained freedom Serena ignored it, concentrating instead on the delightful autumn day. A doe, fawn by her side, left her grazing to study the source of laughter that reverberated through the forest. A red fox crouched beneath a fallen tree, sensing danger in the appearance of this trio of humans.

Abruptly reining her mount to a halt, Serena laughingly turned to Bryan and Richard. "I challenge you both: a race to the place where the trail forks. Are you game?"

"God's blood, Serena!" Bryan exploded. "Gyles will have my head for letting you ride, I refuse—"

"A truly marvelous idea," Richard put in softly, brown eyes probing the trees for . . . what? "We'll allow you a head start—in the interest of fairness."

"Bah!" Serena gave an arrogant toss of her head, setting her gold-flecked curls bouncing. "I wouldn't take advantage of either of you in such a way. But if you insist..."

Serena drove a slippered heel into her mount's flank and the horse leaped forward, then stretched out into an even pace.

"Damn it, Serena!" Bryan roared futilery. "Halt right where you are!"

"Catch up—if you can!" Serena merrily called back. Bryan muttered a curse and set off in pursuit, Richard beside him. But Serena was well ahead and her lighter weight lent her a slight advantage, so when her two self-proclaimed guardians rounded the last curve that led to the fork, Serena was waiting, mocking them with a huge grin.

"Serena, I'm going to flay your deceitful hide," Bryan threatened as he drew rein.

"How you carry on, dear brother mine," Serena pouted. "Poor Catherine, I pity—"

Of a sudden, her mount started, prancing to one side; as she strove to quiet the normally gentle filly, Serena caught a flash of color in the wood.

"Bryan? There is some—" Too late Serena recognized the glint of sunlight on metal, too late she noticed the deathly silence of the game forest, she was too far from Bryan's side to grab his dagger for her own protection. Serena's scream was torn from her throat even while she sent her mount forward. "Look to your left, Bryan! Your left!"

His sword half pulled from its scabbard, Bryan wheeled his steed to meet the danger head on. Five men descended upon the once-frivolous party and, even while he defended himself, Bryan knew this was no motley group of bandits. Their arms were too fine, their move-ments too well trained to be other than men who made their living through use of weapons.

Bryan's sword pierced one man's neck, a pink froth spewing forth when the point was withdrawn. Another attacker was on him immediately, and Bryan swung around, catching a glimpse of Serena from the corner of his eye.

"Ride, Serena!" Bryan managed to yell before he was forced to concentrate solely on his defense.

"Richard, help him!" Serena cried as she drew abreast of her childhood friend. "He'll be killed! Richard, draw your blade, for the love of God!"

Why was Richard simply sitting there? Why didn't he help Bryan? Why—why were the men only intent upon Bryan! Richard shifted his gaze to Serena and smiled, the soft, gentle brown eyes ablaze with such bloodlust and hatred that Serena had never seen.

"First Bryan, then Gyles," Richard intoned as he grabbed the bridle of Serena's mount when she made to flee. In a harsh, rasping voice Serena barely recognized he continued, "I could not kill Bryan—we were once very close—but I swear I shall run your precious bastard through myself, with pleasure."

Serena made a choking sound and hurled herself from the saddle, snatching Richard's sword while he tried to control two restless mounts.

"Serena, no!" Richard's anguish carried to her ears as she buried the blade deep into one man's back.

Chivalry be damned! Serena thought grimly as she wrenched the sword free of the body. In his madness Richard was of no value—indeed he must have planned the attack himself—and Bryan alone could not stand off the attackers.

Bryan swayed in his saddle as an alien blade found a home beneath his upraised arm and he cried out as his sword fell from his grip.

"Bryan! Bryan!" Serena dropped her own weapon and rushed to catch her brother as he plummeted to the earth.

"Not the girl!" Richard's inhuman shriek pierced the air. "I was promised—not the girl!"

Arms outstretched, Richard's voice was the last sound she heard, Bryan's crimson stained tunic the last sight Serena focused on before the relentless steel of a blade landed flat across the side of her head, then turned and bit into her side.

Gyles, my darling, my love!
Serena's bones dissolved and she slumped to the ground, not knowing that Bryan's body covered hers almost at once.

* * *

Something moist nuzzled at her hand and the slight girl stirred at the touch. Eyelids flickered open, blue eyes searched the source of the disturbance. She tried to pull herself up, but a great weight hampered her and looking down she saw the hazy form of a man.
What?
.. . Memory flared briefly and she cringed away, managing finally to drag her skirts from beneath the body.

Blood!
Her stomach churned, but she forced down the bile and weaved a hesitant path toward the small mare that had awakened her. The mare stood quite still, very willing it seemed, to be ridden.

"I must ... get help." The girl spoke softly to the mount. "Then we must . . . ride . . . get . . . warn . . ." She dropped the reins as if they burned her fingers and groaned. "I cannot . . . take you. They would know ... I am ... I should be . . . dead? He's dead!" She pointed unsteadily at the man on the ground.

Her head began to spin and she closed her eyes to steady herself for a moment. "Thieves ... and Richard . .. Richard planned? Who? I ... I do not remem—" The girl began to laugh hysterically and she stumbled blindly from the clearing. "Gyles . . . there was . . . Gyles? Must warn . . ." Blood dripped from her scalp, matting her hair and soaking the right sleeve of her gown. Her side was on fire and she pressed her arm tightly over the gaping wound, vainly trying to staunch the flow of blood.

How long she walked, the half-crazed girl did not know, but somewhere in the vast wooded area her strength deserted her and she crumpled onto a pallet of dead leaves.

A Castle Under Siege

G
yles smiled approvingly as Alan, under Nellwyn's watchful eye, struggled to exchange Evan's soiled napkin for a clean one. The task completed, Alan proudly stepped back so Nellwyn could inspect his handiwork.

"Aye, lad, that be . . . fine, just fine." Gyles could sense the grin the old nurse was holding back and scooped Evan into his arms to critically appraise Alan's task himself.

The napkin slipped haphazardly down one of Evan's hips and Gyles ducked his head so Alan would not see his smile. "I agree, Nellwyn. Alan, 'tis a fine job, you will be a great help to Lady Serena when she returns."

Alan's chest swelled visibly under his father's praise and he strutted importantly between Nellwyn and Gyles.

"Will m'lady return soon, Lord Gyles?" Nellwyn asked after she had deposited Evan in his cradle.

"Aye, Nellwyn. In her last letter my lady said she is fully recovered and eager to join us." Alan was tugging on his arm and Gyles obligingly swung Alan onto his broad shoulders.

"She'll be most pleased with the changes ye've made." Nellwyn gave an approving nod. "Lady Mara's wedding —'twas most kind of you to find her a husband—and Lady Lydia beaming at the idea of going to live with her rather than joining a convent."

Gyles chuckled. "Do not praise me overmuch, Nellwyn, 'twas Sir Arthur's doing entirely. Upon his last visit —when Lady Beda treated him so shamefully—he became taken with my sister and she with him. I did but fall in with their plans."

"That's one I be glad is gone, that Lady Beda." Nellwyn sniffed distastefully. "She were naught but trouble. Why the way me lamb used to cry herself to sleep over that one—oh! I be sorry, m'lord."

"No need, Nellwyn, that lady will cause your mistress no further hardship." Gyles threw the nurse a lame smile. "I wasted much of the months of our marriage, a mistake I shall not make again. Was she very unhappy as my bride, Nellwyn?"

The nurse was not surprised at the question, for during Serena's absence Gyles had grown fond of Nellwyn, and she in turn was pleased to find the Norman lord did indeed have a heart. Gyles spent as much of his days as was possible in the nursery, which Serena had instructed Nellwyn convert out of an empty chamber. And it was only natural that the nurse and the husband should fall to discussing Serena, who was so dear to both their hearts.

Nellwyn delighted in regaling Gyles with tales of Serena's childhood, recounting the willfull ways of the young child, who from birth had twisted both father and brother about her fingers. Serena's mother had been of a different mold, however, for mother and daughter were of the same nature and she recognized early the independence that manifested itself in Serena. Far from being unhappy with the event, Serena's mother encouraged it and from childhood Serena was taught to value her mind above the dowry she would one day bring her husband.

"At first me lamb was more angry than unhappy," Nellwyn answered slowly. "Went against her nature, being forced into a marriage that way; aye, ye should have seen the fit of temper she gave way to when Lord Geoffrey told her about you. 'Twas all that Norman woman's doing of course—begging yer pardon—after Serena all the time, telling her she had better wed before she turned so ugly no man would look at her. Fairly tossed Serena into bed with every knight who came to court Serena, that witch did. And she spent all of Serena's dowry money, every coin! But me lamb fixed her proper, she did." Briefly, Nellwyn described Serena's revenge upon her step-mother. "I wish I could have seen that!" Gyles grinned. Alan was asleep on his bed and Nellwyn and Gyles had long since availed themselves of two of the chairs in the nursery. "She has a fiery temper, my little Serena."

"That she does." Nellwyn chuckled in agreement. " Tis the best thing ye did, giving her a babe. Heed me words, m'lord, keep her busy raising yer wee ones, that will keep her out of trouble."

"You only say that because you love being a mother hen." Gyles's eyes gleamed devilishly. "And Evan and Alan cannot defy you the way Serena does." He sobered. "Nellwyn, are you bound to Serena?"

"Aye, but only by me heart. The old lord granted me freedom after Serena was born." Nellwyn's face softened with an inner glow as she looked into her past. "I was married—ye did not know that, did ye?—to a freeman at Broughton, once I had me own freedom. James his name was, a good man, kind and gentle; the best smithy in all of Broughton's lands. We had a small cottage, in the castle's shadow, and Bryan and Serena oft came to see us in the evenings. James and me, we were not blessed with children—four babes I lost before they even stirred in me womb." A single tear rolled down Nellwyn's cheek, and Gyles squeezed her hand gently. "But we loved each other, and Serena and Bryan kept our cottage lively enough. James even forged Serena's first suit of armor and a wee sword—she came crying to us one day because Bryan had laughed at her and said he wouldn't play with such a puny little girl.

"Well, when James finished those arms, ye've never seen such happiness! Serena picked up her sword, put on her armor, and stamped off to find Bryan. Laid him flat on his face, me little lamb did, took that sword and hit him hard on his rump! Bryan couldn't sit proper for a week—and neither could Serena, for when Lord Geoffrey found out what she'd done he gave her the hardest part of his hand. Then he told Serena that if she was going to play with weapons she'd best learn how to use them—and she did."

"A happy childhood," Gyles murmured absently.

"Aye, but it did not last." Nellwyn's expression turned bitter. "The bastard Will—yer pardon—King William's invasion ended it. I lost me James at Hastings."

"I am sorry." Gyles studied Nellwyn's seamed face.

Nellwyn gave a quick shake of her head. " 'Tis the way of tilings, m'lord, and 'tis best forgotten. I have me memories." She looked at the cradle. "And now . . . now there be Alan and Evan, and if I know me lamb we'll be needing a larger room for a nursery."

There was a light tap on the door and Edward entered before Gyles called his permission. Gyles frowned at this breech of etiquette and then caught the slight blush that colored Nellwyn's cheeks as she swiftly averted her gaze. Edward and Nellwyn! Gyles laughed to himself. Who would have guessed? I must tell Serena of this when I write next.

"Yes, Sir Edward?" Gyles raised a speculative eyebrow.

"A messenger below, m'lord," Edward said in a strained voice.

"From Broughton?" Edward nodded but did not meet Gyles's eyes, keeping his gaze fixed slightly above Gyles's head. "Splendid!" Gyles sprang from his chair and out the door, Edward on his heels.

"Forgive me, m'lord, for having been the one to bring you these tidings." The young squire stood in front of the table on which lay the message he had delivered.

Gyles rested one muscular thigh against the table and fingered the paper beside him. "How fares your lord, good squire?" Gyles asked in a calm voice.

"Lord Bryan was close to death when my lady sent me hither. The priest had been sent for and a Mass was being said." The squire swayed on his feet.

"Bring this man a chair!" Gyles shouted and eased the squire into the seat before softly continuing. "You will feel better when you have rested and eaten. You rode without stopping?"

"Yes, m'lord." He swallowed a mouthful of wine. "Lady Catherine told me to make haste."

"I will commend you to Lord Bryan, lad, and I will tire you no further. Seek your chamber and when you are rested, return to Broughton." Gyles rose wearily. "Sir Edward, come with me."

The night was old when Edward finally left his lord's chamber, the door closing softly behind him. A short while later Gyles appeared and made his way slowly to the nursery.

"Nellwyn?" The old nurse was kneeling beside Alan's pallet and she got stiffly to her feet as Gyles walked to Evan's cradle. His eyes never leaving Evan's face, Gyles questioned, "You have heard?"

"Aye." The word was a choked sob. "Edward . . . Sir Edward was here ... is it true?"

"I do not know—all that is certain is that Serena has disappeared, and so has Richard." Gyles closed his eyes. "Is it possible, Nellwyn, could she and Richard—"

"Nay!" Nellwyn said sharply. "She ran from ye once, 'tis true, but not... not like this."

"No, of course not," Gyles sighed. "In a way, I wish it were true, at least I would know that she is safe, that. . . Oh, God! what has happened to her?"

"Shh. Ye'll wake the babes. Come." Nellwyn tenderly guided Gyles back to his chamber and pressed a goblet of wine into his hand. Using the stern tone that so intimidated Alan, Nellwyn ordered, "Drink."

Nellwyn turned away from the stark anguish in Gyles's eyes as he numbly obeyed her.

"I know what ye be thinking, m'lord, and ye be wrong. Me lamb is alive—I know. If she were . . . dead, I would have felt it. Here." Nellwyn touched her left breast. "I would have known and so would you."

"I am leaving for Broughton at dawn, Nellwyn. I know I needn't remind you, but guard the boys. Edward will be in charge while I am gone. See that there is a man with each of my sons at all times. Never, under any circumstances, should my sons be left alone with anyone unless Edward, Justin, or yourself are also present. Do you understand?"

"Aye, m'lord." Nellwyn's eyes were round with alarm.

"I shall find her," Gyles promised grimly. "I had to tell one of my sons his mother was dead; I will not tell my other son the same thing. Evan will have his mother if I need search all of England. Goodnight, Nellwyn."

Alone, Gyles snuffed out the candles and retired, but sleep did not come immediately. Instead, Gyles's mind dwelled upon the way he had laughed at Serena's fears when she had pleaded for his understanding. She had been afraid; had known, sensed, the danger that waited for her. And I laughed! Gyles swore to himself, damning his own arrogance.

"Take care of the children , . . love them, for they are precious." Her sweet voice floated to him from the darkness, and Gyles could almost imagine Serena was beside him.

"Serena?" Gyles whispered into the darkness. "I will find you, Serena, do not fear. The children are safe and soon you will be safe as well. I love you, Serena."

Gyles closed his eyes, fighting off the bleak despair that had threatened to overpower him when he first read Catherine's hasty letter. Life without Serena? Intolerable! Unthinkable! Gyles would not allow it to happen. And in order to find Serena, he must be rested, in full control of his mind and reactions. The many hard years of campaigning served Gyles well. He forced himself to think of nothing and within minutes he was asleep.