Courtly Love

  I remain,

  Your obedient wife, Lady Serena

  * * *

  My lawful wife in God, Lady Serena of Camden,

  I am pleased that you have remembered your oath. The border lands are not in the state of unrest that was prevalent upon our arrival some two months ago. For the most part the clans are poorly organized and have begun once again to quarrel amongst themselves. The danger here is minimal, yet I hope you have remembered me to God in your prayers.

  The crown prince is in command of our army. For all his youth, he is an excellent warrior. Tis, most unfortunate that an accident befell His Majesty a few days ago. Rumor has it he was set upon by a fierce clansman while our detachment of men razed a village. 'Tis odd, but Prince William refuses to answer any questions put to him about the assault. Yet as we bore him back to the encampment, in his madness, he raved and said 'twas I who caused his beating. Tis strange, is it not, wife, that he should lay the blame on my head? Why would I have cause to treat my prince in such a manner? But—thanks to God—Prince William will live. His Majesty will be bedridden for at least a week—the bruises about his face are terrible to look upon.

  You need not fear your father will learn anything from me. Tell Lord Geoffrey I hope for his recovery.

  I remain,

  Your loyal husband, Lord Gyles

  * * *

  My husband, Lord Gyles of Camden,

  Catherine has arrived from Normandy. She and Bryan were wed a fortnight ago. I have taken the liberty of gifting them with a stallion and mare from your stables. They are a wellmatched pair and Bryan is most pleased with their bloodlines.

  My father is weakening rapidly; he has barely the strength to eat. Aurelia rarely visits him any longer, which is a blessing. He cannot bear the sight of her.

  Beda has arrived from Camden for a visit of unknown duration. She asks for news of your arrangements with Sir Arthur for her hand. What will you have me say?

  I remain,

  Your obedient wife, Lady Serena

  * * *

  My wife, Lady Serena of Camden,

  Inform Beda that had she remained at Camden she would have learned several weeks ago the outcome of my preparations. Sir Arthur will not have her despite the richness of her dower. She may remain at Camden 'til autumn at which time Beda may retire to her dower estate or a convent. The choice is hers. My patience is at its end with the woman, for when Sir Arthur visited her last, she rudely insulted him and made mock of his offer. I wash my hands of her entirely.

  My felicitations to Bryan and Catherine. May their marriage be long and fruitful. I am most pleased with your choice of gifts for them—'tis most fitting and proper. But then, you have always known what is best.

  Summer has not yet hit with any great force here as I imagine it already has at Broughton and Camden. The nights and early mornings still carry a chill and the days, though clear, are not as warm as could be wished.

  I have sent Edward to Normandy with orders to return with Alan. By the end of July I will be back at Camden and I wish Alan to stay with you until that time. Twill be only a matter of a fortnight's visit and I entrust my son to your gentle care. Tis good to know that in less than a month I shall be in my own home.

  Kiss Alan for me, Serena, again, you were right, I do love him.

  I am as always,

  Your loyal husband, Lord Gyles

  * * *

  My gracious husband, Lord Gyles of Camden,

  Beda and Aurelia have gone to Camden to make preparations for Beda's departure. She is retiring to her dower lands 'til such time as she marries again. Alan's arrival is eagerly awaited by all. You may depend upon Catherine to make your son feel most welcome at Broughton. Though why you did not send him to Elspeth to await you I cannot understand.

  If my letter appears stilted, mlord, I must ask your pardon. Lord Geoffrey, my most beloved father, has been dead these ten days past and in my grief I find I cannot honor my vow to you beyond these few lines.

  I am,

  Your wife in God, Lady Serena

  * * *

  My most precious wife, Lady Serena of Camden,

  I am most sorrowed by the news of your father's death. Were there words which could ease your grief, I would write them, but your heart must find its own path out of the darkness into which it has descended. Lord Geoffrey was a good man, Serena, and you must believe that he felt no sorrow for himself at his death. He led a rich, full life—and he was blessed with a son and daughter who brought him much joy. If I could be so blessed, I would indeed gladly seek my grave for such wealth as that is beyond measure. And such contentment and joy as he found in you and Bryan I long for, yet know I shall never find.

  I would not send Alan to Elspeth for the simple reason that she is not his mother. You are. You did not bear Alan in your womb, but rather in your heart, and that, most assuredly, is where a child is born.

  What of you, my wife? Are you happy with the path you have chosen? Tis not too late, Serena, all is not lost. One word from you will end this tragic mockery between us. Think upon this.

  As ever, I am,

  Your faithful husband, Lord Gyles

  * * *

  My husband, Lord Gyles of Camden,

  I have thought much upon your last letter. The bitterness of my father's death has passed and in its place are the tender memories of him as he was when I was a child. My memories cannot be torn from me by anything on this earth; they are warm and sweet, comforting me greatly when my thoughts dwell bleakly upon my father's end. Bryan has worn out many steeds trying to outrun his grief. Bryan's grief was far worse titan my own for he felt—at last- -guilt at his actions, which have sorrowed our father these past two years. I cannot tell Bryan that what he knows to be true is false, yet I know Father would not want Bryan to blame himself for his rashness. Twould seem my brother and I both inherited our share of that trait.

  Catherine is a great consolation for Bryan; she comforts him more than I ever could. We are too alike, Bryan and I, each of us sees the guilt in the other for our treatment of our sire. Tis good that Bryan has Catherine to pour his heart out to. I wonder how Father bore it when our mother died— he had no one to turn to then as Bryan does now. How alone he must have been!

  We had word from Edward yesterday. He and Alan are in England and will arrive in three days time. All is ready to receive them; Catherine is a most efficient lady of the manor.

  I have read again and again your last letter. In truth, I cannot say that the decision I made in the midst of a February sleet storm has brought me happiness; but it was wise, considering the circumstances. All joy is fleeting, transitory—I believe happiness to be beyond my ken now; all I desire is a measure of peace and that I have not found at Broughton.

  I would ask that you not press me for an answer but allow me to weigh this decision carefully. I ask also that you not come to Broughton when you return from the border. I shall assure Alan's safe return to Camden; Bryan has already offered to deliver him into your care.

  I pray daily for your safe return. God keep you, Gyles.

  I remain,

  Your most obedient wife, Lady Serena

  * * *

  My gracious wife, Lady Serena of Camden,

  Of necessity this letter needs be short, we are breaking camp and first light tomorrow will see us on the road to Camden.

  I shall press no decision upon you, Serena. If time you need, time you shall have. Send Alan to me when you wish; I know how he must enjoy being with you again. With luck, Alan will not have to return to Normandy.

  Dear Serena, I have missed you much these past months—more than I believed I could ever miss someone. Camden will be a lonely dungeon without your presence; I know not how I shall endure it. God watch over you, Serena, 'til I am there to take you from His care.

  I am, as always,

  Your devoted husband, Gyles

  * * *

  My lawful husband, Gyles, Lord of Camden, Wolcott, and St. Clair,

/>   As you can plainly see, I have returned Alan to your protection. The letter enclosed within mine should explain fully my reasons. Lady Elspath knew not where to send a message to you, so she sent it to me that I might pass it along to you. So I have done.

  How you must have laughed at my last letter! What manner of man are you that you can practice such cruelty on another? It matters not, for I have reached the decision you so urgently desired.

  You need not worry about imprisoning me at my dower castle. I have petitioned for an annulment of our marriage—I am sure you agree 'tis best we end this laughable union which should never have been.

  You have won—you have your son, your son's mother, and your lands. Enjoy your victory.

  Soon I will never more be,

  Your wife, Lady Serena

  PART FOUR

  The Fleeting Promise

  CHAPTER 14

  "Bryan, are you certain you were right?" Catherine twisted her hands nervously in her lap.

  "No," Bryan sighed as he seated himself heavily beside his wife. "But what else could I do, Catherine? She cannot continue as she has these past months—and Gyles does have certain rights."

  "Rights!" Catherine jumped up and began to pace the room. "After the way he has treated your sister, you dare speak of his rights'? What of Serena—what..."

  " Tis Serena I am thinking of!" Bryan roared. "Mayhap if they meet—"

  "She does not wish to see him! Not now! You know that," Catherine interrupted.

  "You read his letter, Catherine, the annulment Serena has petitioned for upset him greatly. What possessed her to do such a thing?" Bryan went to the window and studied the road below.

  Catherine rested her head on Bryan's shoulder. "There was no petition, Bryan," she said quietly. "How could there be? What grounds would the Church accept?"

  "Oh, God!" Bryan swung on his wife. "How could she make such a mess of her life? And why be so cruel as to tell Gyles what was not true?"

  "Because she loves him and she can no longer bear the pain he brings her." A cloud of dust caught Catherine's attention and she clasped Bryan's hand in hers. "He comes."

  Bryan nodded slowly and placed a light kiss on Catherine's lips. "Prepare her, Catherine, and offer up a prayer. Tis all we can do now."

  Catherine ran lightly to her sister-in-law's chamber and rapped on the door.

  "Enter." Serena's voice carried softly through the panel. Serena's room was flooded with light from the August sunshine and the gold streaks of her hair shimmered brightly. Serena looked up from the sewing in her lap and smiled briefly. "Catherine! You needn't request entrance to my chamber, you are welcome any time."

  Catherine glanced uneasily about the chamber, unable to steady the wild beating of her heart. "Serena, I. .."

  Serena laid her sewing down and studied Catherine with concern. "Catherine, do you feel well? You are quite pale."

  Catherine knelt beside Serena. "Bryan and I have been worried about you, Serena. What you are doing is unfair to yourself as well as to Gyles."

  Serena's mouth tightened into a thin line. "I do what I must, Catherine, I thought you understood that."

  "I do, but . . . but neither Bryan nor I can bear to watch you wither and die like this."

  "Wither? Hardly that, Catherine!" Serena laughed.

  Catherine's anger flared at Serena's humor. "Laugh if you wish, but we have taken matters into our own hands. Were I you, I would change my gown and freshen my hair— Your husband is here!"

  Serena's eyes flew open and she said accusingly, "You told him!"

  "No. Bryan only summoned him so that you could try to mend whatever is wrong between you." Catherine rose to her full height.

  "Bryan has no right to interfere with my life!" Serena cried.

  "He has every right—he is your brother! Tis time you stopped being so stubborn. You could be mistaken about Gyles."

  "Not in this!" Serena retorted. "Why do you suddenly feel the need to defend Gyles to me?"

  "Because he is your husband and you have a duty to him."

  "Do not presume to tell me where my duty lies, I know—"

  "Then prepare yourself," Catherine snapped. She whirled and left the room without another word.

  Resignedly, Serena rose to change her gown and dress her hair. To her chagrin Serena found herself taking special care with her appearance, glancing often into a small looking glass to insure her face was not too flushed and her hair hung exactly as it should. She had no choice —at least that is what she told herself—if she refused to go downstairs and meet Gyles, Bryan would bring her husband to her chamber and Serena preferred to meet him in more neutral surroundings. As she descended the stairs, Serena heard Gyles's voice coming from the schoolroom she and Bryan had used as children.

  It shouldn't be like this, Serena thought as she leaned miserably against the wall, listening to the resonant play of Gyles's voice. Tis not fair that just the sound of his voice makes me long for his embrace; not when he has played me for a fool with Elspeth. The tears that had remained unshed for so long threatened her, and Serena drew a deep breath to compose herself before crossing the threshold to where Bryan and Gyles waited.

  "You wrote that she was ill," Gyles was saying, "and now you say she is not! Which is the truth?"

  "The latter, Gyles." Serena answered from the doorway, enjoying the way her husband sprang to his feet at the sound of her voice. As quickly as he moved, she might have just seared his flesh with a torch. "I am in the best of health."

  "Then perhaps you will explain—" the sneer died on Gyles's lips, his green eyes clouded first with anger then growing horror and disbelief, as Serena walked slowly to a chair and eased into it.

  Bryan murmured an excuse and closed the door behind him. Serena kept her eyes carefully averted from Gyles, while he stood mutely watching her, his hands flat upon the table in front of her chair. Gyles's skin had turned the deep bronze Serena remembered from the summer before, his short tunic exposed the firm muscles of his arms and shoulders that rippled under the suppressed violence of his emotions. He had grown leaner during the months of the campaign; Serena saw when she raised her eyes to him, his cheekbones more pronounced, the sensuous lips that had so often pressed upon her own now tugged downward into a frown, the dark hair Serena had so often toyed with curled slightly at the nape of his neck. He was all she had ever desired; this dark, remote, silent man who stood watching her as if she had the plague. Yet she could not utter a single word, for those piercing green eyes held her trapped in their depths.

  Fear, overwhelming and urgent, constricted Gyles's throat. Innocent Alan! He had told his father Serena had eaten too much and become as large as Nellwyn, and Gyles had thought no more about it. Oh, God! Not this! Gyles's heart rebelled against the evidence before his eyes.

  "You . . . Serena, you are with child!" Gyles managed to force through his dry throat.

  "How observant!" Serena stated drily. "Have you nothing more to say?"

  Gyles slumped into a chair, all emotion save fear driven from his mind. Gyles indicated her swollen belly. "W-when will the babe be born?"

  Serena rested her slender hands protectively over her rounded figure. "Soon—the child has dropped this past week, and the midwife is certain 'twill be no longer than a fortnight. You need not tarry here, Gyles, if that is what concerns you. My child can enter this world quite easily without your presence."

  "Your child! Tis my child as well!" Gyles bellowed, goaded into anger by Serena's calmness. Had she no idea of the ordeal she was facing? Gyles thought as his hands tightened around the arms of the chair.

  "Are you certain, Gyles?" Serena directed a pointed look at him. "Perhaps 'tis Henry's or Richard's or William's or any other man's—you accused me of faithlessness often enough, why are you now so sure you are the father of my babe?"

  "Don't, Serena!" Gyles's whisper was anguished. "You were ever true to me, I know. Why did you not tell me?"

  "I had planned to, and then I recei
ved Elspeth's letter. Do you really believe I could have told you after that? I will not live on the scraps from your whore's table, Gyles. I would rather name my child a bastard before the world than grovel at her feet or yours. Elspeth wanted you and Alan—she is welcome to you! Dissolve our marriage and take your vows with Elspeth. Tis what you have always wanted. I will make no claim either for myself or my child." Serena rose to pour a goblet of wine, which she sipped thoughtfully before continuing in a small voice. "Is Elspeth at Camden?"

  "No." Gyles shook his head. "She came to see Alan a few weeks ago. That was what she requested in her letter, Serena. She wanted only to look upon our son. I will not deny she asked me to end my marriage to you, but if you had once listened long enough to me I would have told you what I told Elspeth—I would never annul our marriage. She did not believe me at first, but when she stayed at Camden I forced her to see the truth. I laid with her at court 'tis true, but out of anger, not desire. I used her then as she used me four years ago. God's truth, Serena, she wished only to see Alan; and the ironic part is that he spoke constantly of you. Elspeth stayed two days, then she left, vowing never to return."

  "And what of your other harlot?" Serena asked in a strangled voice.

  Gyles turned at her odd tone and found Serena's back presented to him. "Beda, too, is gone. Lydia is planning to retire to a convent and Mara will soon be pledged in marriage. Christ in heaven, why must we speak of this now? You must return to Camden where Nellwyn and I can care for you."