The Lady of Fairhaven

by Lee Scott

  “I believe that some extraordinary woman shall strike you low. And seeing father so happy with Gillian will only speed your own race to start producing heirs,” Alyssa said.

  “Enough of this prattle,” Luke bellowed. “I have more important thoughts to occupy my mind. Fortifications and strategies plague my thoughts and I need no more conversation about love and its entanglements.” Luke turned and walked to the window, peering out over the landscape.

  “You are in a foul mood. Perhaps you wish to stay here and defend Longmore,” his sister asked.

  “I have obligations, Alyssa. There is little time to be spent defending a fortress such as this with father in command when other holdings are in jeopardy.”

  At that moment, Anthony and Francesca entered the room. Anthony walked over to Luke while Francesca sat down with Alyssa.

  “We are about to be off. I wonder, Luke, if the rumors are indeed accurate. Could father’s holding be the only target? I fear if we take our leave with our contingent it might do more damage to his defense.”

  Sighing, Luke said, “The idea has crossed my mind as well. It is not our decision, and I fear he is not in a mood to argue.”

  “I believe you have the right of it. His new bride certainly is a beauty, and although she comes with a price, I believe father believes she is worth the effort. I have seen him admire the fair Lady Gillian, and pure pleasure radiates from him. I believe he wants time alone with her.”

  Luke’s despair cut even deeper. God how he didn’t want to be separated from Gillian, but he had no claim. In truth, the thought of losing her had a mind muddling affect on him. He was desperate to get away.

  “Well, I for one cannot wait to oblige him. I would leave as soon as I have said a farewell,” Luke said.

  Before Anthony could question his brother further, Phillip entered the room and everyone gathered around.

  “How is your wife, My Lord,” asked Francesca. “We have worried over her condition and pray she is much improved.”

  “Thank you, I believe she is. It seems it is all I can do to keep her to her room,” Phillip said. A smile beamed on his face. “Luke, you did not tell me she was so willful. It will be difficult to keep her down and resting.”

  “I am sure that you will be working hard at that endeavor,” joked Anthony.

  The comment, however, had a different effect on Luke. He turned and walked toward Alyssa. He could stand no more conversation about Gillian and his father.

  Noting Luke’s disposition, Alyssa took Luke’s actions to mean he was annoyed with the conversation only because he was more concerned with everyone’s safety. She crossed over to him and took his arm. “I am going to miss you so terribly, Luke,” Alyssa said. She buried her face into his shoulder. “Please promise to visit again soon.”

  “I promise, kitten,” Luke said. He brushed his hand down her cheek.

  Just then Gillian began to come down the stairs. “Oh, Gillian is here,” Alyssa said. But when she saw her condition, she whispered to Luke, “She still doesn’t look well. Her eyes still carry the fever. Do you see?”

  “Yes, I see,” Luke said dismally. Turning to Alyssa, Luke said, “I must bid you farewell. My troops are assembled below and awaiting me.”

  “Very well,” Alyssa said. Her eyes lost the dancing brightness they possessed just moments below. “I love you Luke.”

  Luke gently kissed her on the cheek and then turned to his father. “I am away,” Luke said. He looked at Phillip, not Gillian, who stood by his father’s side.

  “You are leaving now, Luke?” Phillip asked.

  “I fear I must. I have much to plan in defense, if Longmore is to be safe from Sir Oliver Blakeley.” Luke watched Gillian’s eyes widen in fear as he turned and walked toward the door.

  Not sure what to say but sure she could not allow Luke to leave without saying something, Gillian turned to Phillip and said, “My lord, would you grant me a few moments with Luke before his departure? I have some thoughts that have been plaguing me about my behavior in your son’s presence. I must free my conscience. Would you permit me to speak alone with him?”

  “Of course, Gillian.” Phillip immediately turned to Luke as his son was leaving the room. “Luke! Would you do me the honor of escorting my wife out to the bailey?”

  Luke looked puzzled but returned and offered his arm to Gillian. He never made eye contact. As soon as they had cleared the door, Gillian stopped Luke with a small tug.

  “Are you ill?” Luke asked. His concerned gaze swept over Gillian.

  “Aye, my lord,” Gillian said. “Please be careful, Luke. I should perish if anything should happen to you because of me.”

  “Do you plan on putting a dirk to my heart, madam?” Luke teased.

  “I should think not, sir, but I fear it will be done in my name. I believe it would be more than I could endure if you should be hurt. I care for you more than I do for my own life. I am aware I should not speak of this, but I love you. My heart breaks that I am to lose you.”

  “You are correct madam that you should not speak so. You are now married and it pains me to hear you say endearments that cannot be answered. There is no future for us, and we must not speak of it again.”

  Luke started to leave, but Gillian kept her grasp of his arm. Looking up at him, she said, “You are correct, of course. Please ease my mind and tell me that you forgive me for my boldness. I will not rest easy knowing I have angered you.”

  Unable to respond as he wished and having unbridled emotions confusing his thoughts, Luke said nothing. Instead, he turned and walked away. He nearly raced out the door and down the steps to the courtyard.

  His men waiting, Luke took the Storm’s reigns from his squire. The animal danced sideways as Luke mounted his steed amidst his men. His eyes took one last clandestine glance toward Gillian who stood alone shaking with sobs that wracked her body and tears that streamed down her cheeks. There was nothing he could do to ease the pain he had caused her. Certainly, he would not be able to show her how he felt.

  Within the hour all family members had departed for their own domiciles. The castle gates were sealed as soon as the last party had disappeared from sight. The portcullis was lowered and a flurry of activity in the courtyard involved one and all.

  Unwilling to show the hurt Gillian suffered, she set her mind to assisting the effort of defending the castle. She had, after all, lived through attacks under the protection of her father. Old enough to know some battle tricks, she set out to get the castle folk to ready for any possibility.

  Her first stop was to have several maids gather all the rushes and store them in a below ground storage vault. If fire were to come over the wall on the tips of long bow arrows, the castle could be engulfed in flames.

  Buckets of sand and a large cauldron were gathered. If any attacker should try to scale the walls Longmore would be ready to meet their efforts with hot sand that would flow inside their chain mail and burn the flesh. It was horrific, but effective. The cauldron was set in a corner of the kitchen until it was needed.

  Firewood was gathered and stacked in a fireproof area and a group of hunters and scouts were sent out to look for game and enemies. Gillian scoured the garden for medicinal herbs. The garden was overgrown, but had a large selection of healing plants Gillian was accustomed to using in her balms and ointments. She set about trimming as many plants back as much as she could safely without killing the plant. In the storage room she crushed the entire supply and placed them in storage containers for future use.

  The day was almost gone before Gillian began to feel the full effects of her illness and the work she had preformed. Feeling herself becoming wear, she leaned weakly at the storage room door for a moment gathering strength. In her haste to speak to Luke, she had neglected to break her fast, then in her efforts to help Longmore she forgot to take sustenance at midday. Her fever was chilling her again. What strength she had gathered was now seeping away. On her way to the tower with small bags of herbs, sh
e grabbed a biscuit and a sip of ale. The sweetness of it was just enough to help her up the stairs.

  The candle flickered with a failing light as she stepped into her new bedroom. No doubt Phillip was exhausting himself with the defense of the castle. Without him present she chose not to presume to take his bed, even if he had mentioned it before. Today was too exhausting, and Phillip would no doubt sleep more soundly alone.

  Gillian pulled her cape out and wrapped her shivering body. No one attended her this evening. The servants were too busy working below. Unable to untie the laces and unhook the buttons from their holes, Gillian resigned herself to sleep in her gown. It was of little consequence to her anyway.

  Complete exhaustion claimed her at once, and her eyes slid shut nearly as soon as her head rested against the pillow. Her sleep was jumbled with dreams and caught helplessly in nightmares. Unaware of the fever that once again consumed her, Gillian thrashed and turned on her pallet, alone, in the darkened room. The cold fireplace provided no glow or warmth to aid her.

  Phillip stepped into the cold dark room with a candle lighting his way. “Hello!” he called out to someone below. “Come here and stoke the fire and bring a candle.” Several weary servants hurried as fast as possible up the stairs. Anne was one of them His eyes flashing angrily, Phillip asked, “Miss Anne, where is Lady Gillian?”

  “I know not, My Lord. She was working with the garden herbs when I saw her last. I have been assigned many tasks today, and was not always near.” Anne’s voice was filled with deep concern. “I know she has been busy all through the day.”

  “Aye, lass. I understand. We have all been busy, he said. We need to find her. She may not be well, and I do not see her in bed where she ought to be.” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke.

  Anne slipped inside the room and walked to the other chamber. In the darkness she heard Gillian’s moan. “My Lord, she is here.”

  “God’s wounds,” Phillip cursed. “What would she be doing in here in the cold and dark?” He started to pick her up and carry her to the canopy bed in their bedroom.

  “My lord, I do not wish to anger you, but Lady Gillian no doubt wanted to let you rest undisturbed tonight. I know Lady Gillian would be most distressed if she upset your sleep.”

  Phillip bellowed, “She had better get used to disturbing me. I will not tolerate her sleeping in her clothes in a cold dark room when she is not well. It will not be tolerated!”

  A quiver of fear from the master’s wrath snaked down her body. “I will attend her,” Anne said.

  Gillian fought an unseen enemy. “No! Don’t hit me please. No!” she screamed. Her body jolted up, and she swung her arms to keep away her attacker. Dog, who had been trailing her all day long growled menacingly as he searched the room for some unseen foe.

  Rushing from the other room, Phillip said, “Gillian, you are at Longmore. You are safe with me. Settle, my love.” He turned to Anne. As soon as the fire is burning bright, let us get her out of these clothes and into something more comfortable.”

  Phillip returned to his room and washed his hands and face and poured a fresh bowl of water to swab Gillian’s feverish brow. “I do not like to see her in this weakened state,” he said to Gillian’s maid.

  “She has suffered much since the return of her uncle,” Anne said.

  “It is a condition I expect to remedy as soon as possible,” Phillip said with authority. “I look forward to crushing him for his unkind treatment to my wife.”

  Gillian dissolved into a series of body wrenching sobs. Phillips touch quieted her for a time, and she drifted back into a deep sleep.

  “Do you think we should move her to my bed?” Phillip asked hopefully.

  “If she remains here, I will be able to minister to her fever, my lord. It is of course, your choice,” Anne said.

  “I am left with few choices, but…” he thought aloud.

  Phillip rose early the next day and checked in on Gillian. The worst of her fever had subsided through the early hours of the morning as it had done for the previous few days.

  “Wife, your health has worried us these past days, and I insist that you stay abed today,” Phillip’s voice was filled with an angry frustration.

  “I would gladly my lord if you can say that none of the villeins are working without some affliction that would normally keep them abed. If there is some way I might assist you or your people, I must find it. If some task that only I can attend does not get accomplished, I would be to blame if it were the very thing that needed to be done. And lastly, I am chatelaine of this castle now, am I not? It would not bode well for me to remain hidden, expecting others to accomplish those tasks in my realm of responsibility.”

  “You argue well, wife. However, I would point out that no one shall think ill of you should you recover from your infirmity. It would anger me if I should find you collapsed in some corner because you attempt too much. Please promise me at least, that you shall take your rest this day.”

  “In that sir you have my word.” Gillian promised.

  Throughout the day, Gillian again did not see Phillip as he worked his men in the final preparations for battle. And as promised, Gillian did finally take a nap. But only did she retire when she swayed against a doorway when she stood too quickly. Anne had forced the issue with Gillian, and summoned a page that had been commandeered to another task to assist her to her bed.

  After several hours, Gillian finally revived from the deep comforting nap and, seeing the sun dipping on the horizon, scolded herself for her laziness. Having ordered the drying of the game meat provided by the hunters the day before, Gillian returned to the kitchen to find the task nearly completed.

  It was more gratitude for a well-trained, loyal staff than relief that she had failed to perform her duties that filled her thoughts. The servants had clearly worked hard and long to make up for the shortfall of helping hands. Wanting to help and ease the load of others, Gillian stepped in to assist in the final meat hanging.

  It was late afternoon when the alarm bell rang out. The enemy was at the far end of the field. Tents were raised and a force of warriors and knights assembled in the clearing. In truth, it did not look like an attacking army. The contingent was small but lacked the flags affiliating the men with an overlord. Easily the men could belong to Oliver, but without some sign of allegiance, there was no way to determine it. And their actions did not declare their intentions.

  “Oh God!” Gillian said as she looked from her small window at the men facing the castle. If only there was some way she could stop the man before blood was spilled she would go to it, regardless of the consequence to her. The fact of the matter, however, was evident. Oliver would never settle for taking her away and sending her to a convent. No! He wanted everything and he could collect it by killing her and possibly Phillip. Phillip too, realized it was fight or die. If only she had allowed him the properties he had tried to conceal. Those might have placated his greed.

  Guiltily, Gillian realized she had never told Phillip of her loyalty and devotion to him. She had never apologized for her wicked uncle’s devious designs. God! Her family was about to hurt, maybe kill innocent people. And she was at the bottom of it all.

  Gillian watched her husband’s soldiers prowl the crenellated curtain walls. Hopefully all would be safe this night. Surprisingly, no expected instruments of war were seen.

  It was late at night when Phillip entered the bedchamber. Gillian was tucked safely between the linen sheets. Her brow was beaded with perspiration, but her eyes didn’t carry the bluish shadows of illness as they had before. Dog had nestled in a giant ball near the fire. Phillip chuckled at the sight. The dog was so large it seemed impossible for the animal to form such a small figure.

  Phillip removed the battle armor, but refused to strip down below his clothing. If an attack should come, Phillip would need to immediately join his men. He also longed to consummate the marriage with Gillian, but in truth, lacked the strength to manage the feat after putt
ing in such difficult days. And from the way Gillian slept, it appeared as though she had again spent too much time working, as well.

  The canopy drapes were drawn together, filtering out the candlelight in the room. Phillip gathered Gillian’s shapely body next to his. His arm draped over her ribcage and under her well formed breasts. For a moment his hand caressed the soft swells of flesh before he breathed in her sweet fragrance and fell asleep.

  A noise awakened Gillian first. It wasn’t a struggle of men fighting for their lives, nor was it the sound of weapons working to break down the castle’s defenses. The origin of the noise seemed quite indistinct and distant. Even Dog who had his head cocked in earnest attention seemed relatively unconcerned. All seemed as it should be.

  Phillip’s arm was curled lovingly around Gillian and her body was molded to his matching curve to curve. His hand gently cupped the heavy flesh of her breast. Gillian’s eyes widened with surprise. It was the first time she had ever truly slept with a man in the privacy of her own bedroom. With Luke, there were others nearby, watching. Surely she could not argue Phillip’s right to touch her in any way he pleased. It was merely surprising, and to her disappointment, less than arousing.

  When Luke had touched her, innocent as it was, her skin heated and tingled with excitement. Gillian lamented that her husband’s touch held no such thrilling flame. Was she truly going to spend her life pining for another? She prayed Phillip’s gentle touch would eventually work some physical desire for him.

  Gillian’s thoughts turned to fear as a loud distant thump stirred Phillip awake. Across the room dog growled low in his throat in response. Without saying a word, her groom slid from bed and began donning his chain mail and armor. Gillian moved with him and worked to fit and maneuver the heavy pieces on to her husband’s muscular body.

  Her thin nightclothes were a distinct contrast to the heavy armor her husband wore. There were so many pieces to assemble like a puzzle. Phillip hurriedly grabbed up each piece in order. His rush frightened Gillian.