Love and War

by Maggi Andersen

  The days grew shorter and the air turned brisk and fresh. She wasn't sure if her broken heart had anything to do with it, but the nights grew longer and colder far too quickly.

  * * * *

  Another month passed. Selena woke up one morning to feel frost crunch beneath her boots. When she spoke to Frobisher, steam came from her lips. Winter had come early, echoing the feeling in her heart. But she was pleased with the results of all the hard work. With the weeds stripped away, the brilliance of the garden design was revealed. The gardener assured her that next spring would bring a wonderful display. A good part of the house was now spotless and the staff organized into keeping it that way.

  Selena donned a pair of Gyles’ breeches to ride about the estate, rolling up the bottoms. At first, the villagers were shocked, but they soon grew used to the eccentric, Lady Devereux. Frobisher relayed the local gossip to her. Even the most straitlaced felt with her husband away at the wars, it was commendable that she take the man's role about the estate.

  Every day, she rode out to check on the progress, heading out towards the boundaries, exploring something new each time. Some days she took her lunch and was gone all day.

  Selena thought this to be fine land, sheltered by the hills from the harshest weather with excellent, rich soil. After an initial cold snap, the weather was fine and cool. She sat with her back against a tree, eating her bread and cheese beneath a willow by the river as a ploughman might. Firefly, her bay gelding pulled at the grass nearby.

  She finished her lunch and mounted Firefly, riding down the hill to the woods. It was like entering a different world. There was still much work to be done here. When a cloud covered the sun it became dark as night. Ahead, the bushes rustled, but no animal emerged. Firefly picked his way over broken tree branches and bracken. Selena sensed a presence. It caused a chill to travel up to the nape of her neck. Poachers. She turned to gaze into the dense foliage but could see nothing.

  "Is there anyone there?"

  She heard crashing noises and the footfall of someone running away. Bushes shook and branches swayed, and she saw a blur of movement. Feeling a shiver rise up her spine to stir the hairs on the back of her neck, she turned Firefly's head towards the light and urged him into a canter. Sure-footed, the horse answered her urging. He jumped a fallen tree and pushed through the undergrowth, back onto the trail. They burst into the daylight and galloped down the hill. Crossing the stone bridge, the powerful horse climbed the steep slope with ease. She reined him in at the top of the rise and looked back over the woods. It looked peaceful enough and she dismissed it.

  Serena loved to ride, to feel the wind on her face and the stallion moving beneath her. She had been advised to buy a mare, but she was strong and found she could handle him well enough. She walked him along the avenue of trees leading to the house and the temptation became too great, she nudged him into a full gallop. They raced towards the house, hooves clattering over the carriageway. When she grew closer to the house, she pulled the horse up sharply.

  A carriage stood at the door. Joseph, in his footman's uniform that had failed to keep him away from the stables, was in the act of opening the carriage door. He bowed to someone inside and went to take a portmanteau from the coachman.

  Gyles stepped out, his fur-collared, travelling coat resting across his shoulders. He pulled off his hat and gloves and looked around.

  He saw her.

  She held Firefly in check as the bay danced about. Gyles looked thinner, his face pale and his cheeks hollow. Burning the candles at both ends, no doubt, she thought angrily, unnerved by the joy that rose in her like a swallow on the wing.

  Joseph came forward to take the reins and she jumped down. Gyles’ blue eyes looked bloodshot as he studied her. “You've done all this?"

  "I've changed nothing, Gyles. Merely begun to repair it.” Her voice sounded calm and measured while her heart pounded.

  "You were riding astride.” His gaze travelled over her. “Don't you have a riding habit?"

  She put her hand to her waist where his trousers were hitched up with a belt. “I was going to have one made in London. Remember? Anyway, you're clothes are more serviceable than mine."

  An eyebrow rose and his blue eyes glittered. “Serviceable, Lady Devereux?"

  He sounded almost savage. She felt her cheeks burn with anger and humiliation. All of a sudden she was the guilty one.

  "Where did that stallion come from?"

  "I purchased Firefly to ride around the estate."

  "Did you travel here to Halcrow alone?"

  "You gave me little choice,” she said dryly.

  He shivered, and she started, suddenly aware he wasn't well. “You're ill, Gyles."

  "The cursed influenza. I'll be right after a rest."

  "You must come inside, it's cold."

  She turned to Joseph who was standing waiting for instructions. “Take Firefly to the stables, get him rubbed down, fed and watered, please."

  Gyles followed her inside the house.

  "There's a fire in the library, I'll call for tea.” It was as if this was her house and he a guest in it. She wondered if he resented it.

  "This is my favorite room, too,” he said, looking around at the walls lined to the ceiling with shelf upon shelf of bound tomes. A tall ladder gave access to those out of reach. He collapsed into a leather chair by the fireplace, leaning back and placing his boots on a leather ottoman. There was a ridge of high-color along his cheekbones.

  She came up to him and could not resist placing her hand on his brow. It was burning. “You must go to bed, Gyles. I have a room prepared for you."

  "Not the marriage bed then, Lady Devereux,” he said, giving a laugh that turned into a cough.

  Selena picked up the bell and rang it. A minute later, the new housekeeper came in.

  "Gyles, this is Mrs. Lillicrop, our new housekeeper,” she said, as the small woman in black came to stand before him with her hands clasped together in front of her.

  "Welcome to Halcrow Hall, Mrs. Lillicrop,” Gyles said.

  "Thank you, my lord."

  "Have a hot brick placed in the bed in the blue suite, please, Mrs. Lillicrop,” Selena said. “And the fire lit. Tell cook I want a tisane brewed. Oh, and send to the stables for Joseph. I need him to go on an errand."

  She turned, finding Gyles watching her as he lay back in the chair. “Come, let me help you to bed, Gyles."

  "Thank you,” he said with quiet dignity, climbing slowly to his feet. He stumbled and leaned his hand on her shoulder.

  When they reached the blue suite with its freshly distempered walls and refurbished, royal blue and gold silk bed curtains, he said quietly. “My, my."

  He almost fell onto the bed and lay there breathing heavily.

  "I'll send Frobisher here to help you undress,” she said turning away.

  "You do it, Selena,” he asked. “Please?"

  She removed his cravat and helped him out of his coat. Then she began to unbutton his shirt. Underneath, his skin was silky smooth, the muscles of his chest defined, his belly flat and hard. As she pulled off his shirt, she saw bruises on his back. “But what's this?"

  "Never mind what it is,” Gyles said roughly. “It's the reason I asked you to help me. I want nothing said about it, understand?"

  She nodded. Gyles lay down as Joseph came in.

  "Joseph, I want you to go the village and fetch the doctor,” she said. “Take the trap and go straight away. Tell him it's urgent."

  "Right away, milady,” Joseph said, hurrying to the door.

  "There's a clean nightshirt in my bag,” Gyles said weakly. “Help me off with my britches."

  She hesitated.

  "Now's not the time to be prudish, woman,” he said. “You're in no danger from me.” He laughed. “My spirit is always willing, but the flesh.... “He broke off as another coughing fit shook him.

  "When you're well again, perhaps you'll tell me what this is all about."

  "Better tha
t you don't know, Selena."

  "I shall be the judge of that.” Feeling his body, softly coiled beneath her fingers, she fumbled with his trouser buttons.

  "As you see,” he said with a trace of irony, “quite safe."

  Her face burned. She grabbed the bottoms of his trousers and pulled hard. He wore no underwear. Her gaze lingered for a moment on his maleness.

  "Not quite at my best,” he said, between clenched teeth. “I'm as weak as a kitten."

  "Let's get you into bed."

  "I told you it would be a poor bargain you'd get with me, girl."

  She took the fresh, white lawn nightshirt from his bag and threw it over his head, dressing him as she did Anne's children. As she pulled it down, her face came close to his and she stared into his feverish eyes.

  He moved with a speed that surprised her, one arm coming tight around her waist, the other cupping her chin to raise her face to his. “I want to kiss you, dammit,” he said, his blue eyes raking hers. “But I won't pass this on to you."

  She pulled away wishing he had. “Thank you for that."

  "Not in love with me anymore, then,” he said.

  "What makes you think I ever was? Oh, sorry, I'm a weak female, so I must be."

  He gave a hoot of laughter. It turned into a hacking cough that left him breathless.

  "Why did you marry me then?” he asked, when he could get his breath.

  "A home of my own,” she said, forgiving herself the lie.

  "You could have had that with any number of men."

  "There's your title.” She said it in defense, so that he would not discover her secret and judge her a poor thing. She regretted it the moment it was out of her mouth.

  He gazed into her eyes with his eyebrows raised. “Do you know, Selena, I doubted a title would mean much to you. Or do I not know you at all?"

  Someone scratched at the door and Mary entered with a bowl of cold water and a cloth.

  Selena tucked the sheets and blankets around him, adding another blanket for good measure. She dipped the cloth in the water and wrung it out, placing it on his forehead.

  He reached up and took hold of her wrist, encircling it with his long fingers. “Have you been lonely here?"

  "I've been busy."

  "I see that. But the nights, lonely and bored?"

  "I like to read."

  "By candlelight?” He grinned and kissed the inside of her wrist. “You'll ruin your eyes."

  "You shouldn't talk. You should rest,” she chided him, removing her hand from his grasp.

  He shut his eyes and soon fell into a heavy slumber. She went to the fire and stabbed at it as sparks flew up the chimney. She would have to send for more firewood. After the doctor had been, she would stay here with him until morning.

  She was that weak female she spoke of so scathingly. Whatever he was, whatever he'd done, she loved him, but she would not give in to his wishes. Instinct told her to do so would be a mistake. She needed time. She didn't understand him. He had not apologized for deserting her, or given her a reason. He had not said what she'd done here had pleased him, instead, it appeared to cause him pain.

  She watched his face as he slept. In repose, he was even more handsome. If she could not offer him beauty, she would gain his respect. And he must earn hers.

  What she refused to consider for a moment was that he might die.

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  Chapter Four

  "Will he recover?” Selena asked.

  The elderly doctor clucked his tongue. “He's a strong man. I expect he will pull through. Should have been resting up the moment this hit him, not gallivanting round the countryside. He was always a difficult patient and I don't see any evidence that he's changed."

  Gyles had woken briefly to tell the doctor to keep his potions to himself. Rest was all he needed.

  "Keep the room as warm as you can. And give him this three times a day,” he handed Selena a bottle of medicine. “I'll come again tomorrow."

  "Thank you for coming so swiftly, Doctor,” Selena said.

  "We doctors always scurry to the gentry,” he said, his grey eyes twinkling. “Don't know why, they seldom pay their bills."

  "I'll take care of it."

  He shook his head dismissively. “I've known Gyles since he was in short pants. I'm glad he has married and I'm very glad it's you. What you've done here is little short of a miracle."

  He paused at the door. “You might have him bathed. If nothing else, it will make him feel better."

  After the doctor had gone, Selena called for hot water, soap and towels. In the flickering candlelight she rolled up his nightshirt and began to wipe the sweat away, dipping the cloth in the water, wringing it out and stroking his body, before gently toweling it dry. She started at his toes, discovering with inner delight, every perfect inch of his body. She left that awkward part until last, fearing she would wake him.

  It had to be done. She was tentatively dabbing at his groin when his manhood stirred and stood to attention.

  "Can't I take my eyes off you for a minute?” an amused voice said. She looked up to find him awake.

  "The doctor told me to wash you."

  "I must thank him when I see him. Please continue, but be careful. What you begin, I may finish."

  She covered him with the sheet. Pouring out a spoonful of medicine she slipped it between his parched lips. He closed his eyes again and was quickly asleep.

  "Promises, promises,” she said softly.

  He rolled over and she studied the bruises, now turning yellow. What on earth had he been doing? A fight with an outraged husband? She gently washed his strong back and rounded backside, then patted him dry and pulled down his nightshirt, tucking him in. He didn't stir.

  Exhausted, she lay down on an intricately scrolled chaise lounge, finding it extremely uncomfortable. She pulled a rug over herself. Dozing, she rose several times during the night to tuck him in after he'd tossed off all his bedclothes. He moaned and muttered and even cried out once or twice, but she couldn't understand a word of it.

  She woke as the first pale rays of sunlight appeared round the edge of the curtains. The room was deathly quiet. Fear clutched at her throat. She threw off the rug and rushed to the bed. He was sleeping peacefully. She felt his forehead, it was blessedly cool.

  A tear rolled down her cheek. She excused it as weakness. She was exhausted. Tiptoeing back to her temporary bed, she fell into a deep sleep.

  * * * *

  Selena opened her eyes. She must have slept for hours. She sat up quickly, her head spinning and looked over at the bed. He was lying with one hand supporting his head, watching her.

  She rose and straightened her gown. “Do you feel better?"

  "I do, thank you. You should not have forsaken your bed for me, Selena."

  "It's of no consequence, any wife would do the same."

  He studied her. “Your hair is coming down."

  She put a hand to her hair, aware she must look a terrible fright. She walked to the door. “I'll go and tidy up and arrange your breakfast."

  "First, come here."

  She swallowed. “Why?"

  "You ask too many questions. Come here. Your lord and master has spoken."

  She brought her chin up defiantly and met his gaze. “I'll return in a little while."

  His heavy-lidded blue eyes studied her with amusement. He patted the bed. “What if I ask nicely?"

  Suddenly breathless, she came to perch on the edge of the bed beside him.

  He reached up and began to remove the last of the pins holding her hair. As it fell to her waist he ran his fingers through it. “I've wanted to see it thus,” he said. “A waterfall of ebony silk."

  "It's brown."

  "No. It has sun-kissed streaks of brown among the black."

  "It's the same as my mother's. Brown."

  "You are being contrary. I like your mouth. It's too wide for beauty, but just right for kissing."

  "Such co
mpliments, you'll turn my head."

  He touched the button on her high collar. “I'd like to see what you keep hidden. It's only fair, you've seen all of me.” He gave a slow smile. “To unwrap you like a present, one piece of clothing at a time."

  "You must be feeling better,” she said, standing quickly. “I'll get your breakfast."

  "No invalid food, mind. A good slab of steak."

  "You'll eat what the doctor said you should eat."

  His eyes widened. “Have I married a harridan? You are taking advantage of my weakness."

  She closed the door behind her and allowed herself a small smile, then hurried to find Sarah.

  By nightfall, Gyles was aching and his temperature had risen again. The doctor warned that this would happen and Selena was ready for it. As he tossed and turned fretfully, she attended him, trying to ease him and make him more comfortable. In the morning, after a very bad night for them both, he seemed a little better.

  This went on for the better part of a week and at the end of it, the patient had two good nights in a row and was looking a great deal better.

  "You are now in the convalescent stage,” the doctor told him. “You must take things carefully. When it's warm enough you may get out of bed and sit in a chair."

  Gyles bore it all stoically and complained little, but Selena sensed when his head or back ached and would give him a tisane or a back rub. He loved the latter and she knew the day was coming when he would be strong enough to want more from her. She longed for that day herself, but she planned to deny them both for a while longer.

  At the end of the third week, Gyles was sitting in the morning sun, gazing out the window. Selena saw him impatiently push back a lock of blond hair.

  "You need a shave and your hair needs cutting. As you no longer have your batman and we don't have a manservant. I'll send for a barber in the village."

  "You do it."

  She gave a nervous laugh. “Aren't you afraid I'll cut your throat?"

  He grinned. “Make a good job of it if you do."

  She went away and found his shaving things and a sharp pair of scissors. She returned to throw a towel around his shoulders as he lay back in the chair.

  She soaped his face carefully, taking in every loved feature she longed to kiss. As she leaned over him, he moved his knee, positioning it between her legs. A thrill went through her. Unnerved, her hand shook and she hesitated, before making a small scrape at his cheek.