by Speer, Flora
“I don’t think that’s wise, Thomas.”
“It is an excellent idea.” He smiled down at her, his anger gone, dazzling her with unexpected laughter. “We shall dance, together first, and then with other partners, and all shall see we are but friends. I shall flirt with Blanche, and with Sir Lambert’s wife, and you do the same with the husbands. That way no one will imagine it’s only each other we care about.”
“But I do care.” The words slipped out before she had given them thought. She saw something in his eyes that answered her, a quick glimmer of understanding, as quickly extinguished in favor of merry laughter.
“Don’t,” he said. “Never give your heart lest it be broken. Come.” He took her hand and led her to the dancing, and she did as he had bidden her. She laughed and flirted with every young man who asked her, and some not so young, and even danced once with Guy as her partner, after Thomas had pulled him onto the floor.
Selene, prevented by her condition from joining in the fun, sat in her chair at the high table, watching, pretending she did not notice Meredith and Reynaud talking quietly two seats away from her, refusing to join them when they spoke to her. When she finally slipped away and went to her chamber, no one missed her at all.
Arianna was well liked and much respected. There were few in the castle who had believed the gossip about her, so the talk ended as quickly as it had begun. To assure that tongues did not begin to wag anew, Thomas saw to it that he and Arianna were never alone together again.
Spring and summer dragged on, Selene growing more sharp of tongue each day, until Guy swore he would have her confined to the dungeon were she not carrying Thomas’s child. At dawn on the second day of August, with Meredith, Arianna and Blanche in attendance, she produced a son with remarkable ease.
“It was dreadful, an endless torture,” she said to Thomas, exaggerating her discomfort when he came to see her and the baby. She was in fact feeling quite well, and was much relieved that she had lived through it, believing heaven had granted her a reprieve, but she would not have Thomas know how easy it had been. “You cannot expect me to give you any more children, not in such unbearable pain. You have your heir. Be content with him.”
Thomas said nothing. He listened with apparent meekness to all Selene’s complaints, but Arianna, standing at one side of the room holding the baby, sensed deep anger in him at this shrewish attack during what should have been a tender moment between husband and wife. There was in his eyes a cool emptiness in place of the love that had once filled them each time he looked upon Selene, and Arianna saw this if Selene did not. Selene took his gift to her, a pair of heavy gold bracelets set with precious stones in many colors, and tossed them carelessly upon the bed.
Arianna, fearing Selene in her present defiant mood would provoke him into open warfare, came forward and gave Thomas his squalling, robust son to hold. He regarded the red-faced baby with a serious expression.
“I’d like to name him Jocelyn,” Thomas said. “I had a friend once, when I was page to King Henry. Joce died of a fever before he was old enough to become a squire. I’d like to remember him.”
“Whatever you want.” Selene turned her head away from the sight of her husband and son. “I don’t care. Just stay away from me.”
Thomas clasped his son to his bosom and bent to kiss the baby’s forehead, and Arianna bit her lip to keep from crying out at the look on his face, half proud over the child, half desolate at his wife’s rejection.
She found him in the chapel an hour or two later, prostrate before the altar. So deep was her concern for him that she did not wait until he had finished his prayers.
“Thomas, don’t, you’ll catch a chill,” she cried, bending over him. “The stone is so cold.”
“How would you know that,” Thomas asked, rising, “unless you have lain on it yourself?”
“I have, once or twice,” Arianna admitted.
He stood staring down at the cold stone floor, and when he spoke again it was as though he was continuing a conversation with her, and expected her to understand his thoughts.
“I tried to help her, to be patient with her. I hoped she would change if we had a son.”
Thomas whispered. The blue and red of the stained glass windows shone on his head when he moved into the light, facing her. “I see now that won’t happen. It will always be like this, for the rest of our lives. How can I bear it? How can she?”
Arianna could think of nothing to do but take his hand and hold it tightly. She was reassured by the answering pressure of his strong fingers before he went on.
“I, who wanted to love my wife as Uncle Guy loves Meredith, no longer feel anything for her at all, except irritation, and contempt when she is cruel to others. As she has been to you these last months, though you have always been her staunchest friend. And Reynaud. She treats him as if he were a leper. Everyone I love she has harmed in some way. Nor am I so blind as she thinks. I suspect there’s more, some secret she keeps, some great guilt. I may never know the truth of that, but it’s there, between us.” He turned aside, hiding his face, dark red light splashing across his golden hair, outlining his head in a fiery halo, and Arianna ached for his torment.
“I shall go away,” he said. “I’ll go to Normandy and join the king in his war with France. I should have done it long ago, but Uncle Guy said he needed me here.”
“He does. Don’t leave us, Thomas. You could be killed.”
“Better if I were.”
“Don’t say that.”
He turned quickly at that frightened sound, and saw the look on her face before she could compose her features. They stood in the glow of stained glass and sunlight, their faces patterned with vibrant color, looking at each other, looking for an eternity, while full comprehension grew in Thomas.
“I should have known,” he whispered. He opened his arms and she went into them. His mouth found hers, taking her freely offered lips with tenderness and warmth, finding in this dearest and most steadfast of friends all that he had once hoped to find in his wife. Their embrace lasted only a moment, before Arianna was pushing against his chest, fighting to free herself from his arms.
“No,” she cried, “not in this place. Not here. What we do, what we are thinking of, is a sin.”
“Arianna,” he whispered hoarsely, his discretion overcome by deep emotion, “Selene doesn’t want me. I’ve lived like a monk all these months. If you and I chose to enjoy each other, where’s the harm?”
“It is adultery, that’s the harm. Selene is my kinswoman. She has just borne your son. How can you say such a thing? Perhaps you should go to Normandy after all.”
She was gone. She had run out of the chapel in tears, taking the light with her, leaving him more alone than he had ever been in his life. Thomas was wracked with shame. There was no excuse for what he had just tried to do to Arianna.
It was not at all unusual for men of rank to lay with the women in their households, whether servants or noblewomen, but Thomas, inspired by his faithful uncle, had tried to be content with his own wife. Until today he had honestly imagined his feelings for Arianna were those of friendship and no more. But in those few magical moments when they looked at each other without pretense, he had finally seen what ought to have been apparent to him long before.
Arianna loved him. Worse, what he felt for her was much more than friendship. It was something deep and true and enduring, richer by far than the wild, erotic passion he had once known for Selene and in his youthful inexperience had mistaken for love. He did not love Selene. He might have grown to love her had she been a different kind of woman. But after years of an impossibly difficult marriage he saw his wife clearly for what she was – a tormented, half-mad creature, unable to control her emotions and incapable of loving him.
And he was bound to her for the rest of their lives. He could not set her aside as some men did with wives they no longer wanted. He and Selene were in no way related by blood; Guy had made certain of that before agreeing t
o the match. And she had given him children. These were the only two acceptable reasons for ending a marriage: a too-close blood relationship or a wife’s barrenness. Selene was his wife forever, and Arianna was lost to him. He knew Arianna’s strength and firmly believed she would never consent to adultery.
Thomas moaned aloud and sank to his knees, acknowledging bitter truth. Grief and despair overcame him. He fell onto the stone floor of the chapel, lying as Arianna had found him earlier, struggling with his sorrow and his shame.
He did not know how long he stayed there.
When he rose at last he was in no way comforted about the future of his marriage, but he knew two things. First, because he loved her, he could never do anything that in any way might hurt Arianna. Second, after Meredith’s child was born and his own present tasks for Guy were completed, by early spring at the latest, he had to leave Afoncaer.
On the first day of September, after a brief labor, Meredith brought forth a daughter, and then, half an hour later, surprised everyone by giving birth to a twin, a tiny, but completely healthy son. Casks of wine were sent to the village so everyone might celebrate, and the entire household gathered in the great hall to drink to the health of the castle’s lord and lady and their children.
“It’s wonderful,” Thomas rejoiced, refilling his cup for another toast. “Uncle Guy is so happy. He won’t leave Meredith’s bedside. I’m to lead the celebrations here.”
“It is not wonderful.” Selene glared at him. “Don’t you see what this means? You are displaced as Guy’s heir. Your son, my son, will be shunted aside and replaced by this new baby.”
“It doesn’t matter, Selene. I am still to have Adderbury. It was my grandfather’s estate, and then my father’s. Uncle Guy has said it will be mine in time. Kelsey will be Cristin’s dowry, and Adderbury will come to me. We will never lack for lands or a home.”
“Adderbury is not the same as Afoncaer,” Selene snarled. She saw Reynaud watching her again. Wherever she was, his eyes followed her. “What are you staring at, Reynaud?” she demanded.
“At a young man whose heart is great enough to rejoice at another’s good fortune,” Reynaud replied smoothly. “A man whose uncle loves him and will never forget him.”
But Selene was not satisfied. Reynaud knew something about her, she was sure of it. She had to get away from Afoncaer, and the sooner the better. She began that very evening to work on Thomas. Not using her body, as she had in the past. It was too soon after Jocelyn’s birth for that, and she was not certain Thomas would be amenable to that kind of coaxing after her long denial of him. But she had a tongue, and she employed it well.
“Adderbury may be a fine place,” she began, “but would you not like to have more to leave to your son? And what of a dowry for Deirdre? You cannot expect your Uncle Guy to provide one. He has two daughters of his own now. Thomas, the time has come for you to go to court and make your fortune. The king is fond of you; I’ve seen that for myself. Who knows what honors you might earn by employing your sword in his service during this war with France?”
“I had thought of it,” Thomas admitted cautiously. He had not told her of his earlier decision to leave Afoncaer. Now it occurred to him that it would be wise to take Selene with him when he went, for the sake of everyone’s peace, except his own. But he would leave her soon enough, to go to war.
“Isn’t the king’s son to be married in the spring?” Selene went on. “The one who was at our wedding?”
“William Atheling, yes, to the Count of Anjou’s daughter.”
“We should be at the wedding, Thomas, to represent Afoncaer. Guy won’t want to leave – who knows what the Welsh might do during such a long absence – but we could go in his place.”
“What about the children?” He would miss them both, but he did not want them with Selene. Her ready answer relieved his concern about them.
“We will leave the children here with Arianna,” Selene said blithely. “She can take care of them.”
“I’ll speak to Uncle Guy in a day or two. You are right, Selene. There will be honors and lands to be won in King Henry’s war.”
It was not very difficult to convince Guy. He understood far more than Thomas had realized, and agreed it would be best for Thomas and Selene to leave. He asked only that they wait until after the new year had begun. Then he would entrust Thomas with dispatches for the king’s secretaries, and private information about activities on the border which Thomas was to deliver to the king’s ears only.
Selene was making her own plans. While Thomas was away from court with the army, she would visit her parents’ castle in Brittany, and from there she could easily contact Isabel. Perhaps if she could meet Isabel face to face that lady would relieve Selene’s guilt over all she had done and then would finally discharge Selene from her oath. Selene might even be able to arrange for Thomas to meet his mother. That would further please Isabel. Whatever happened, she would be far from Reynaud and his penetrating eyes. Selene began to feel a little hope.
For Arianna, caught between relief that Thomas was going away, thus removing her great temptation to sin, and fear each time she remembered that he was going into danger, for Arianna, there was heart-rending anguish such as she had never known before. It had been easier for her when he had not known she loved him, before she had seen that he loved her. Now all pretense was gone between them, and their every meeting was an agony of trying to hide their feelings from others, and of trying not to give way to the need to touch each other or to embrace. They scrupulously avoided being alone together. How she got through the days and the long, sleepless nights Arianna did not know. She moved like a sleepwalker, discharging her duties competently enough, though often she could not remember later whether she had done a thing or not.
He came to her on his last night at Afoncaer, tapping lightly at her chamber door after midnight, and Arianna, imagining Linnet had knocked to tell her one of the children was sick, opened her door wide and stood blinking at him in surprise, shivering in her flimsy nightgown. He stepped inside before she could make a sound, and closed the door.
She stared at him, reading in his blue eyes the desire that answered her deepest hunger. She could not prevent herself, she went into his arms and clung to him, letting him kiss her, opening her mouth to him, feeling his hard body pressed tightly to her own. Her mind gave up thought and whirled into sweet, passionate feeling, her heart throbbed eagerly against his. But when he lifted her into his arms, and would have carried her to her bed, she still had sense enough to stop him.
“Put me down,” she demanded, “and leave me. I will not consent to do this thing, however much I want you.”
He set her down slowly, letting her body slide along the length of his, and at that touch desire flamed in her, she who had never known a man, and she thought she would swoon from it. He knelt before her, his head bowed.
“Forgive me,” he murmured. “I vowed I’d never do you harm, yet I would have broken that vow out of love and passion. I only came to say farewell to you in private, and to ask for one kiss, since we may never meet again. But when I had it, one kiss was not enough. Arianna, forgive me.”
“I am as guilty as you,” she whispered. “I let you into my room, and I let you kiss me. I wanted you to. There’s naught for me to forgive.”
His arms were wrapped around her knees, his head pressed against her thighs, and she wanted to bend to him and take him into her arms once more. Her hands lightly caressed his smooth, golden hair, and through the linen of her nightgown she felt his burning lips pressed upon one knee and then her thigh. Her stroking hands were stilled by powerful emotion. She was unable to stop him, she welcomed that hot, sensual touch, and she wanted more.
“I love you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I love you so.”
“Never say those words to me.” She did not know where she found the strength. She caught his head and pulled it backward, stopping those fevered motions that set her thighs atremble, making him stand. “You m
ust go, Thomas.”
“I love you, whether you want me to or not.”
“Please go, you will break my heart,” she wept.
He went to the door and opened it, then stood a moment looking at her, and it seemed to Arianna he was drinking in every line of her face and form, absorbing her into his heart and his memory.
“When I die,” he said, “my last thought will be of you.”
Chapter 14
Thomas was a good correspondent. He regularly sent couriers with letters to Guy, which Reynaud read aloud to him and to Meredith and Arianna as well. Thus they all heard of the splendid wedding ceremonies for Henry’s heir, William Atheling, and how Count Fulk of Anjou had given his daughter, Alice, and her new husband the entire county of Maine for a wedding gift. They learned of King Henry’s campaign against King Louis of France, of Thomas’s growing friendship with William Atheling, how the two young men had ridden into battle together at Brémule on August twentieth and covered themselves with glory. William emerged unscathed, while Thomas had a slight wound in one arm. It was nothing to worry about, it was healing well because he had used the herbal salve Meredith had given him. Selene was visiting her mother in Brittany, and would stay there until the war was over. He did not add that they had agreed to live apart more or less permanently, but that was easily inferred from the words he had carefully chosen.
The day after this last letter arrived, the Welsh made a brief, lightning-fast strike. Reynaud watched it all in horror from the safety of the gatehouse, and he later told Meredith and Arianna what had happened. He, Reynaud, had been standing nearly all day at the outer edge of town where the new wall was being built. In late afternoon he crossed the drawbridge over the wet moat to the gatehouse to sit for a time and rest his aching leg. He had just settled himself upon a bench with his back against the wall and a flagon of cool ale in one hand, when he saw Guy ride in after a day’s hunting and pause to check upon the building. Guy waved his hunting companions on to the castle, else there would have been more dead and wounded. Guy remained with Kenelm, Benet, and another squire, a friend of Benet’s. They walked their horses along the wall, stopping here and there to see the latest work on it.