Desire

by Jayne A. Krentz

  It was unfortunate that the serving maid had entered the wardrobe chamber earlier than usual. Clare had still been sound asleep.

  Gareth had been awake, however. To his disgust, he had slept little during the night. Three times he had wandered into the wardrobe to adjust the quilt over Clare's shoulders.

  It was one thing to let her sleep on the hard stone floor. It was another to let her take a chill. He had no intention of allowing her to risk her health while she did battle with him. He had a duty as a husband to see to it that she did not become ill through her foolish actions.

  This morning she was astonishingly calm about the open warfare which she had more or less declared. She acted as if she had already won and was merely waiting for him to concede defeat.

  Gareth wondered if she realized that he had never surrendered to anyone in his entire life.

  He reached the first of the long series of workrooms and stepped into the open doorway. The scent of flowers, vanilla, and mint hit him like a soft pillow in the face.

  "Clare?"

  "In here, my lord," Clare called from the adjoining chamber.

  Gareth walked through the mixing room into the drying room. He saw her standing at one of the wide tables. Something inside him twisted with yearning.

  He had come close to losing her yesterday. The last thing he wished to do today was argue with her. He sighed. He knew better than to show weakness.

  Clare held a handful of dried flowers to her nose. Her eyes were closed as she concentrated on the fragrance. Sunlight streamed through the window behind her, creating a golden halo around her graceful figure.

  She was the most wonderful thing in his life, Gareth thought. She had given him a home.

  He shook off the strange blend of emotions that he did not fully comprehend and went toward her.

  "What are you doing?" he asked, more for something to say than any real curiosity.

  "I'm mixing a special pomander for the abbess." Clare opened her eyes.

  "A very complex recipe that will be hers alone. Do you think she will appreciate it?"

  "I'm certain she will." Gareth hesitated. "The household is in an uproar."

  "She will be here any day now. Mayhap even this afternoon."

  "Uh, Clare, I know you're very excited about this visit."

  "I certainly am. Abbess Helen has been most gracious to me in her letters. I am eager to repay her kindness."

  "Mayhap I should tell you?"

  "Have you freed the prisoners, my lord?"

  "Nay."

  "I know you'll do the right thing before the day is out."

  "Hell's teeth, woman, hanging them is the right thing."

  "Not in this case. Have you taken a close look at Lucretius's knights?

  They are not much older than Dalian."

  "Well, what about those professional thieves Ulrich captured at the harbor?" Gareth retorted. "They cannot be excused by reason of youth.

  One of them is forty, if he's a day. He's made a lifetime career out of robbing people."

  "Aye, but if we are going to free the others, we may as well free him. I do not want even one corpse hanging above my beautiful flowers."

  "Clare, you're a woman and you have led a rather sheltered life here on Desire. If you?" Gareth broke off as voices rose outside.

  "Lady Clare, Lady Clare, your guests have arrived," a servant called.

  "Lady Joanna said to tell you to come quickly."

  "Abbess Helen is here." Clare opened her fingers and let the dried flowers drop back into the bowl.

  "Clare, wait." Gareth reached for her as she sailed past him. He missed.

  Clare rushed out through the door into the courtyard. "Joanna? Where is the abbess? Mayhap she will stop first at the convent to meet with the prioress. By Saint Hermione's girdle, we are not ready. I wanted all to be in perfect order when she got here."

  Gareth walked slowly out of the drying shed and found Ulrich standing nearby. Together they surveyed the busy scene.

  "The abbess is here?" Gareth asked.

  "Aye. She came over from Seabern with an escort a short while ago. One of the men just rode up from the village with the news."

  "An escort?" Gareth raised an inquiring brow.

  "It seems that Thurston of Landry and three of his knights just happened to be traveling in the same direction as the abbess. They offered to provide protection for her and her retainers. The entire crowd should be here any minute."

  "Just what I needed," Gareth said.

  A screech of dismay rose above the commotion in the courtyard. Gareth glanced at Clare, who was gesticulating wildly with her hands.

  "What do you mean, Thurston of Landry is on his way here?" Clare yelled at Joanna. "Tis impossible.

  He cannot be here."

  "Calm yourself, Clare," Joanna said. "We shall manage."

  Clare scowled furiously. "How dare Lord Thurston do this to me? Has he no consideration? I am entertaining an abbess tonight; I cannot be bothered with a stupid baron."

  "We shall manage," Joanna said soothingly.

  "Nay, 'tis simply not possible. He has ruined everything. How am I to deal with my father-in-law when I am trying to entertain a great abbess?"

  "An excellent question under the circumstances," Gareth observed to Ulrich.

  "You're smiling, my lord. You know it makes me uneasy when you smile."

  Ulrich hesitated. "What about the prisoners?"

  "You had better hold them in the cellar for another day or so. There is too much chaos around here as it is. Hanging a bunch of thieves would no doubt create even more of an uproar."

  "Aye," Ulrich said. "It should prove to be an interesting evening."

  Shouts from the watchtower and a cloud of dust heralded the arrival of the company and a host of retainers.

  "They're here," someone yelled. "The abbess and Thurston of Landry are at the gates."

  Clare stalked over to Gareth. "This is really too much. The least your father could have done was send word that he intended to pay a visit."

  "I suspect he made his decision on the spur of the moment when he learned that the abbess was on her way to Desire."

  "But why would he do that? It makes no sense." Clare broke off as the riders clattered through the gates.

  There was a general air of confusion as servants rushed to take the horses' heads.

  "Come along, Clare. We must greet our guests." Gareth took her arm and started forward.

  "That lady on the palfrey is the abbess." Clare's disgruntled expression gave way to renewed enthusiasm. "She appears to be in excellent health."

  "She generally is."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Never mind." Gareth watched as Thurston dismounted and gallantly went to assist the abbess. The pair turned to meet their host and hostess.

  "My Lady Abbess." Clare rushed forward to kiss the ring of the tall, handsome woman in the Benedictine habit. "Welcome to Desire. We are honored."

  "Tis good to see you again, Lady Clare." Abbess Helen smiled. "It is always a great pleasure to visit with you. I continue to enjoy our correspondence more than I can say."

  "You are too kind." Clare turned with obvious reluctance to Thurston.

  "My lord, you honor us with your presence."

  The frost in her voice appeared to amuse Thurston. "I have been looking forward to meeting you again after all these years, Lady Clare."

  "What a pity you did not send word so that we could have prepared a proper reception," Clare muttered.

  Thurston kissed her hand with the easy grace he always displayed around women. "My apologies. It was a sudden decision on my part. Allow me to tell you that I am pleased to learn that my son met your requirements in a husband."

  "Aye, well, I was not quite certain that he would do, at first, but as it happens he is very well suited to the position."

  "I had hoped that would be the case."

  Gareth watched with satisfaction as Clare impatiently withdrew her ha
nd from his father's grasp. Few women were immune to Thurston of Landry's charm. Clare appeared utterly oblivious to it.

  Clare's brows drew together in a sharp frown. "My lord, I do not wish to be rude, but I must warn you, if you have come to summon Lord Gareth away from Desire for some purpose, you are wasting your time."

  "I am?"

  "Aye, you cannot have him. He is needed here at home. You sent him to me and I must insist upon being allowed to keep him. There is a great deal to be done around here.

  This isle has not had a proper lord for years."

  "I see." Thurston gave Gareth an amused sidelong glance.

  "If you wish this manor to remain profitable…" Clare paused meaningfully, "mayhap even increase its profits, then you will have to let Sir Gareth remain with us."

  A smile edged Thurston's mouth. "I assure you, madam, I certainly do not wish to interfere in any way with increasing profits."

  "Well, that settles that, then." Clare looked relieved. "I suppose we can find room for you and your men."

  "Thank you. That is very kind of you, madam."

  Gareth recalled something Nicholas of Seabern had aid to him at the spring fair. She'll be grateful when you have. She has no use for a husband.

  Nicholas was wrong, Gareth thought. Clare wanted him to stay here on Desire. And not just because she found him useful. She loved him. A joyous elation shot hrough him.

  Clare turned eagerly back to Abbess Helen. "My lady, you will no doubt wish to refresh yourself after your long journey. Your chambers are prepared."

  "Thank you." Abbess Helen's voice was low and husky. It resonated with quiet power.

  Clare glowered at Gareth. "You have not welcomed our lady Abbess properly, my lord."

  "Very true." Gareth took the abbess's proffered hand and looked down into the gray eyes that were reflections of his own. "Welcome to Desire, Mother."

  ***

  Clare stormed up and down the length of her chamber while Eunice attempted to dress her.

  "His mother. I cannot believe it, Joanna. Abbess Helen is his lady mother. This is so embarrassing.

  How could he do this to me?"

  "I suspect Lord Gareth did not want you to know of his relationship to the abbess just yet." Joanna watched as Eunice darted in close to Clare and dropped a saffron-bellow gown over her head.

  "Whyever not?" Clare struggled to get her face free of the folds of the gown. It settled into place.

  Eunice seized the opportunity. She grabbed the laces and set to work.

  "Mayhap because he knew that you held her in such high esteem. He no doubt preferred to win your affections on his own merits."

  Clare stared at her. "I had not thought of that. Do you think that was the case?"

  "It is a possibility." Joanna rose from the stool and went to the door.

  "Do not concern yourself about the evening meal. All is in readiness." She paused, one hand on the knob. "Oh, by the way, Dalian has composed several more verses of his new ballad for the occasion."

  Clare smiled in spite of her mood. "More verses featuring the brave, bold, daring Lord Gareth?"

  "I believe so. He is eager to perform his poem for the company."

  Eunice yanked on Clare's hair with just enough force to make her stand still. Grumbling, Clare allowed her aging servant to tuck her tresses into a gold-threaded net.

  "Has Sir Ulrich given any indication of when the prisoners will be set free?" Clare asked.

  Joanna sighed. "Nay, he has not. Do not expect Lord Gareth to release those men, Clare. You know very well 'tis not the way such matters are handled. The entire lot deserves to hang, if you ask me."

  "Aye, and that's a fact," Eunice muttered.

  "When I think of what might have become of you and William," Joanna said, "I feel quite faint all over again." She went out the door and closed it softly behind her.

  "Lady Joanna is right." Eunice adjusted the orange and blue girdle around Clare's hips. "Lord Gareth has a reputation for dealing firmly with outlaws and thieves. He'll not show mercy to this vile lot. Nor should he, if ye ask me."

  "No one asked you, Eunice."

  "Ye think he'll do it for ye, don't ye, my lady? Ye believe he cares enough for ye to grant ye this great boon." Eunice gave her a pitying look as she anchored the glittering net in place with a circlet of silver.

  "I warn ye, 'tis too much to expect of any man, especially the Hellhound."

  "Mayhap I can persuade his father to reason with him."

  "That's a good one, that is." Eunice cackled loudly. "Thurston of Landry will more likely offer to help his son construct the gibbets."

  "Then mayhap Abbess Helen can have some influence," Clare suggested hopefully.

  "Nay, madam. Twill do no good. This is none of her affair and she'll likely agree with the men that hanging's the proper answer to the problem."

  Clare closed her eyes in brief, silent prayer. She seemed to be the only one on the isle who felt that hanging seven men above the flowers of Desire was wrong.

  Could no one else see that there had been enough violence already? Could none of them comprehend that the magician's men were just homeless young boys who had taken service with the only knight who had offered it?

  And as for the poor bowmen, they were simply unfortunate, masterless men who had been driven to their careers because they had no other way to make their living.

  She pictured the horrific scene of seven men hanging over a bed of roses and her stomach recoiled.

  ***

  A short while later Clare ushered Abbess Helen into the study chamber.

  "This is such an exciting event for me, my Lady Abbess. I do so enjoy your rare visits. But I cannot tell you how mortified I am that I did not know you were my husband's mother. I vow he never mentioned the fact to me."

  "My son is a rather unusual man, much inclined to keep his own counsel."

  Helen glided gracefully over to the bookshelves. Her habit was as magnificently cut and sewn as the most costly of gowns. Her wimple was exquisitely draped to form a perfect frame for her elegant face and crystal eyes. "He does not reveal much of himself to others."

  Clare grimaced. "Aye, that is certainly true."

  Helen smiled. "I would have you know that I am well pleased with this match, Clare."

  "So am I." Clare went to stand by the window. "You know better than most, madam, that I did not particularly wish to marry."

  "Aye. But we both knew that you had a duty to do so. You had no choice in the matter."

  "You chose your son for me, did you not? It was all your idea, wasn't it?"

  "Aye. I wrote to Lord Thurston and suggested that it would be a good match."

  "I am honored that you felt I would be a suitable wife for your son,"

  Clare whispered.

  "You are the only woman I have ever met who could give Gareth what he seeks most."

  Clare glanced at her. "What is that?"

  "A home of his own."

  "Oh."

  Helen gave her a speculative look. "I have heard that he has learned to laugh."

  "Your son possesses an odd notion of amusement, madam, but he definitely does possess it."

  "You have fallen in love with him, have you not?"

  "Aye."

  "Have you told him?"

  "Aye."

  "What did he say?"

  Clare shrugged. "Nothing. He seemed content with the knowledge."

  "But he did not tell you that he loves you, too?"

  "Nay."

  Helen sighed. "As I said, my son has never been the sort to reveal his feelings to others. I do not know if he will ever be able to do so. You must learn to look beneath the surface if you would know him well."

  "I believe I know him very well, madam. But there are some things that must be put into words." She swung around to face Helen. "You may as well know that Gareth and I are involved in what some might term a quarrel."

  Helen looked amused. "So I am told. 'Twill be interes
ting to witness the outcome. My son has never had much practice at losing battles."

  ***

  "Your mother is as beautiful as ever." Thurston contemplated the magician's toys that Gareth had spread out on the chamber table.

  "Uh-huh." Gareth frowned intently over a page in Sir Humphrey's book.

  "What do you make of this reference to a machine that is powered by the same mechanism that causes a water clock to function?"

  "I have no notion." Thurston glanced down at the page without much interest. "It was all her idea, you know."

  "What was?"

  "Marrying you off to Lady Clare."

  "I assumed as much when I learned that Mother and Clare had formed a long-standing correspondence."

  "You seem satisfied with the marriage.".

  "Aye." Gareth turned the page.

  "She appears quite determined to keep you tied close to home and hearth."

  "Aye."

  "The, uh, rumors of her loss of virginity at the hands of Sir Nicholas were unfortunate."

  "Not that it is any of your affair, sir, but the rumors proved unfounded."

  "Ah. I see. Twas not the lady's reputation that concerned me, you know."

  "I know what concerned you, sir." Gareth bent closer to study a small drawing. "You feared that I would feel obliged to kill Sir Nicholas and thus deprive you of his services."

  "Aye. I'm glad it did not come to that. Nicholas may not be every woman's dream of a chivalrous knight, but he is a good man with a sword and loyal into the bargain.

  Such men are all too rare."

  "Aye."

  "I have heard other rumors," Thurston continued.

  "Have you?"

  "I am informed that you and your lady are locked in a quarrel concerning the hanging of those men you captured when you retook your hall."

  "She would have me set them free. Clare is very softhearted. She is unaccustomed to violence. And its aftermath."

  "Women." Thurston sighed. "They simply do not understand such matters."

  Gareth met his father's amused gaze. "On that we agree, sir."

  ***

  And thus did open the Window of Hell.

  And into it the wicked magician fell.