Courtly Love (7 page)

That thought brought a frown to Gyles's face. Serena had been horrified and sickened when she learned about them—and Gyles had to admit he could not blame her. Had Serena forgotten? Or had she chosen simply to ignore the facts? Either way, Serena had never thrown it in his face or questioned him about it. She seemed quite willing to be his wife if he so desired, but by no means was she forcing a decision upon him. Serena was unfailingly polite whenever they met—a most welcome respite from Beda who alternately threatened and cajoled in the misguided hope that Gyles would return to her bed. Finally, aggravated beyond his endurance, Gyles had taken to bolting his side of the door that joined their chambers. At the time Gyles had thought that if Serena lay behind that door he would have it torn from its hinges instead.

Serena paddled back to Gyles and wondered at the frown that had replaced his smile of a few moments before. She cast a glance at the bank to assure herself that Alan was out of the water, and then turned back to Gyles. His eyes rivaled the leaves above in their greenness, and his skin had turned to a deep bronze during these summer days. Serena had often watched as he and his men held practice sessions with their weapons. Now up close, she could see the firm, rippling muscles of his arms and shoulders, which before she had seen only from a distance. Serena had little enough to judge by, but she knew instinctively that Gyles was indeed a magnificently built man. She had no difficulty understanding why—if Bryan had not been lying—the women at court found him so appealing. What would happen if she went to him now and placed a gentle kiss upon his lips? Would he put her from him? Or would Gyles take her in his arms and whisper the endearments she yearned to hear from his lips? There were so many unanswered questions.

Gyles was looking at her and smiling. At least he seemed to have removed the curtain from between them, and that was a start, Serena told herself hopefully.

"You look pensive, Serena. Does something trouble you?" Gyles's voice was soft and low, with a gentle note that Serena had never heard before. He allowed so little tenderness to touch his life, she thought sadly.

"No, m'lord," she answered quietly. Then she smiled teasingly. " Tis only that I grow weary and must beg your leave to return to shore, for if I do not, I fear you shall be made a widower."

Gyles laughed, and stretching out one arm, caught her to him. "Then shall I ferry you back, m'lady? In truth, 'twould not be a difficult task, for I think you weigh little more than Alan."

The moment was precious and Serena was loathe to let it go, so she lay passively against Gyles's chest and let him bear both their weights. Gyles seemed to be of the same mind, and Serena could hear the steady beat of his heart in her ear. Hesitantly, she raised one hand up over the dark mat of hair on his chest until her arm was around his neck. The water sparkled as if inlaid with jewels, the wind rustled softly through the trees and time hung suspended for them—trapped around their bodies as they lightly touched, drifted apart, and came together again. From the woods came the trilling of a bird, the only sound that broke their splendid isolation. Both felt the need to speak: Gyles to refute his earlier angry words, and Serena to tell of the strange, new emotion that she had discovered in her heart. But neither could find the words, and instead they held tightly to each other, expressing their thoughts in unspoken communication.

Eventually, it was Serena who broke away and smiled shakily at Gyles, whose face wore a puzzled expression. "We ... we must go, m'lord. 'Tis late, and there is the joust tomorrow and the guests."

Gyles nodded, not trusting his voice, for he, too, had been inwardly shaken by their contact. Something about this girl stirred the very depths of his soul, and it was not just desire. He had had this feeling before: when they were arguing; the day they had discussed Alan; and especially during the long days and nights he had kept his vigil by Serena's bedside and feared—yes, Gyles could admit that much to himself—feared for her life. He drew a deep breath and put a teasing note in his voice. "I shall race you to the shore, Serena. Are you game? You do swim very well for a woman, but.. ." He allowed his voice to trail off.

Serena rose to the bait. "A challenge? But, m'lord, you must make the contest more interesting."

Gyles raised an eyebrow. "A small wager on the outcome, Serena? Will that make the contest worth your while?" Serena nodded. "Very well, then, what do you wish if you win?"

Serena's eyes danced with deviltry. "To be allowed to take part in the lists tomorrow."

"What!"

"I was going to anyway, but now I have risked my chance, for if I lose, I shall not participate." Gyles still wore a dumbfounded expression as she continued. "Since my wager is quite dear to me, m'lord, what will you wager that is equally dear?"

Gyles stared at her and then shook his head as if to clear it "Serena, surely you are not serious about the lists! Even if you were trained in the art of combat you would stand no chance against veteran knights. Any of my men, even the weakest of them, could accidentally do you a grievous injury. I will not allow—"

"The wager, m'lord, or the challenge is void," Serena warned. "And if the challenge is off, I participate as I planned, even if you deny me your permission."

"Oh, very well," Gyles groaned. "For my wager, I choose—" His mind raced frantically. "I choose that you begin, as of the end of this race, to occupy your rightful place at Camden as my wife. And you will start by having Beda removed from the chamber next to mine and installing yourself in her place."

Serena paled, and Gyles thought for a moment that the price was too high. Actually, if he won, Gyles would have accomplished two ends. He would be relieved—at least to some extent—of Beda's noisome presence, and Serena would be closer to him. The afternoon had caused Gyles to realize that he did, in fact, desire Serena as his wife. She would be his talisman against all that was ugly and sordid in his life. Her mere presence could bring him a peace of mind he had never thought to have. Serena still had not spoken and Gyles watched her closely. "Well, Serena, what say you? Do you agree to the wager?"

Numbly, Serena nodded. The wager was more than she could have hoped for—to gain her rightful place beside Gyles! Yet, she also desired to participate in the mock battle. If Serena won, she lost; and if she lost, she won! Which course to take? "Aye, tn'lord, I accept your terms. Do you give the signal or do I?"

"By all means, let us be fair. You give the word, Serena. 'Tis only just since I challenged you."

Serena nodded. "Now!"

Both struck out for the shore. Serena concentrated completely on keeping abreast of Gyles. As she had observed, he was a powerful swimmer, and he effortlessly began to pull ahead of her. Serena drew upon her reserves and once more was even with Gyles: The process was repeated again and again until Serena weakened and suddenly realized that Gyles only toyed with her, prolonging the game. He could easily have outdistanced her from the start, and could now be sitting on the bank if he so desired.

A glance over his shoulder showed Gyles that Serena was lagging behind him, but her jaw was set in a determined line. "Yield, Serena! You cannot win!" Gyles called back.

"Nay!" Serena shouted and for her trouble swallowed a mouthful of water. Damn but the man was irritating! Gyles's laughter floated back to her, and she saw that the long strokes of his powerful arms had already carried him to the shallows and he was now wading to the shore. Frustrated, Serena stopped swimming and let herself sink beneath the water. What difference did it make whether Gyles won? It had been a lighthearted contest, made in jest, and whatever the outcome, she gained.

What was she trying to prove? And to whom, Gyles or herself? Why could she not feel content with the thought of being Gyles's wife? For most women, that would be enough. What was she searching for?

When she surfaced, the first sound Serena heard was Gyles calling her name. Did his voice sound frantic or was her mind—already confused by the questions that chased each other around—playing tricks on her? She paddled easily to the shallow water and then walked to the bank. Gyles waited for her, his legs slightly apart, arms folded over his chest. His eyes were flashing angrily at her, and Serena wondered what had caused him to lose his bantering mood.

When Serena neared Gyles, his hand shot out and she was pulled roughly against him. "What were you playing at out there?" Gyles asked angrily. He lifted Serena off her feet until their eyes were level with each other. "I thought you had taken a cramp and could not gain the shore."

Serena looked at him in wide-eyed astonishment. When she gazed into those green eyes, all defiance drained from her and the questions that had plagued her earlier seemed completely unimportant. "Did I frighten you, m'lord?" Serena asked softly.

Gyles did not reply, but Serena felt his arm tighten around her. His free hand rose and brushed an errant strand of hair from her face. When Gyles spoke, his voice was oddly strained. "Never . . . ever ... do that again, Serena. I'll not allow you to escape our wager so easily."

But I do not wish to escape, Serena wanted to say. Why couldn't she speak those words? Why did pride chain her tongue, when Serena's heart told her that the words would greatly ease things between herself and Gyles? And why was he staring at her as if he could read her thoughts?

"You will carry out your part of our bargain." It was a statement, not a question, and Gyles searched Serena's face for a sign that she would refuse.

Serena's eyes dropped away from his; surely he could look directly into her soul and see the inner turmoil there. "The bargain will be met, m'lord, though I daresay Beda will prove most difficult."

Gyles returned Serena to the ground, then gently cupped her face between his hands. "If Beda proves troublesome, I shall deal with her. Take no chances, Serena. Remember her dagger."

"You need not remind me, m'lord. I remember full well her anger." Serena glanced behind Gyles to see Alan running toward them. Reluctantly, Serena pulled Gyles's hands away from her face. '"Tis time we left, m'lord, the day grows short and I fear we have neglected Alan."

Alan threw himself into his father's arms. Gyles lifted the boy to his shoulders and offered his hand to Serena. A small smile curved her lips as her ringers interlaced with her husband's and the trio walked back to the picnic site. Serena's kirtle was still wet and she debated removing the garment before she donned her gown, but Gyles and Alan were waiting impatiently for her, so she quickly shrugged the garment over her shoulders and hurried to the horses. Gyles lifted Serena into her saddle, then mounted his own horse and seated Alan before him. The ride back to the castle was spent answering Alan's questions, and he soon had Serena and Gyles laughing at his inquisitiveness. They were still chuckling when they reached the stables, and the grooms who ran out to hold their mounts glanced at their Norman lord in surprise. The grooms were not the only people who were interested in the return of the lord and lady of the manor. Nellwyn and Beda waited on the steps of the castle— the old nurse with a satisfied smile on her lined face, and Beda with her face contorted into an ugly mask.

Serena noted the killing looks Beda gave her, and she was suddenly overcome by a feeling of pure terror. Serena's legs trembled and her hands turned to blocks of ice. She retained enough control to send Alan off with Nellwyn before the confrontation with Beda. Gyles sensed Serena's fear and slipped an arm around her shoulder, readying himself to intervene should Beda threaten Serena in any way. Her uneasiness receded a bit, and Serena drew a deep breath to steel herself and steady her nerves.

But matters were taken out of her hands as Beda launched full force into an immediate attack on both of them. "Where have you been? Your guests have been arriving since noon!" She gestured toward the field where pavilions were being set up. "I have had the entire responsibility of welcoming your guests and quartering the lords and ladies here in the castle. You, Lady Serena, should have been here to attend to these matters; after all, though you are not a wife, you are the lady of the manor and you do have duties to attend—"

"You need not remind me of my duties, Lady Beda, I am quite aware of them, I assure you," Serena said quietly, though a slow flush colored her cheeks, for she had forgotten the grand scale of the lists Gyles had planned. "And from this moment on, I plan to relieve you of the duties I have so thoughtlessly thrust upon you." Serena motioned one of the servants to her as they advanced into the hall.

Beda glanced sharply from Gyles to Serena as she caught the new authority in Serena's voice, and her eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits at the sight of Gyles's hand resting lightly on Serena's shoulder. Something had happened.

"See that Lady Beda's things are removed from her chamber at once." Serena broke into Beda's thoughts when she addressed the servant. "And have my belongings placed in their stead. Beda, you may have my former chambers if you wish; the room is quite pleasant."

Beda glared at Serena. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed. "I have no intention of giving up my chamber!"

"I fear you have no choice, Beda. The rooms you occupy are not yours, but belong to whoever bears the title Lady of Camden." Serena stole a quick look at Gyles before she continued. "I have waited for you to gracefully relinquish that which is no longer yours, and I feel I have been more than patient. But your time and my patience have run out, and so I tell you now that I will no longer be kept from my rightful place."