Castle of the Heart (9 page)

“Thomas.” It was barely a whisper, little
more than a sigh. “How could you do that to me, make me turn into
someone different? It wasn’t Selene, you know. Selene would never
do anything so disgusting. Selene is pure, and clean in spirit. Not
at all like Aloise. Selene will never have a lover.”

She saw then that there had been blood. It
was smeared on her thighs and spattered upon the linen sheet
beneath them. Blood. Selene’s stomach heaved. She moved away from
that part of the bed, removing herself from the evidence of her
lost virginity.

Sensing the motion, the man beside her opened
brilliant blue eyes. A large, strong hand reached across the space
Selene had put between them and slid down along her arm, covering
her slim fingers and bringing her hand to his lips. She sat
watching him coldly, seeing his smile falter and a shadow come into
his eyes.

“Is anything amiss, Selene? You must be cold,
all uncovered like that. Lie here beside me, and I’ll warm you. We
will love again. Come closer, my sweet.”

Again?
Selene glared at him, her chin
tilting upward defiantly.

“Certainly not,” she said. “I have done my
duty for this night.”

“Are you just going to sit there until
dawn?”

“Perhaps.”

“What is wrong? My love, you had pleasure,
too, you know you did.”

“I had to do it. I could not prevent it. I
was only doing my duty.”

“And will you do your duty to me again
whenever I wish it?” he asked lightly, to cover his growing
bewilderment.

“No!” Selene cried. Then, “Yes. I must. I
have no choice.”

“I think,” Thomas said, only half-teasing,
“that if you had a choice, you would still say no, and pretend to
be unwilling, but then you would come into my arms with as much
delight as the first time.”

Selene said nothing. She seemed to be staring
hard at the blue curtains that enclosed the foot of their bed, but
she did not see them. She tried to blot out her husband’s soft
voice, and could not.

“My sweet, in time we will come to love each
other as Uncle Guy and Meredith do. You’ll see.”

No, I will not,
Selene thought as his
arms encircled her tenderly and pulled her down next to him.
I
must not, I cannot, I dare not. I will not love you,
Thomas.

But he began kissing her again, and soon she
found the other Selene, who lived deep inside her, who could not
resist him, taking over her senses once more. This time, with much
of the strangeness of it gone, knowing exactly what he would do and
how it would feel, thinking about it as he began to stroke and
caress her, Selene felt the heat rising rapidly through her body.
She reached for him, unable to stop herself or control the longing
that filled her. She touched him, knowing it was shameful to do so,
and watched him rise into life under her searching fingers. It was
lust, no more, and lust was a sin. She knew it. But she was filled
with a clamoring desire that spiraled into sweet bliss when he took
her. The explosion, soft and quiet this time but earth-stopping,
heart-searing nonetheless, made her bite her lips to keep from
crying out, and then, when she could no longer hold back her
ecstatic moans, made her curse the other Selene, the demon inside
her, who made her do such revolting, degrading things, and enjoy
them.

Arianna had not slept. She had gone to bed
late after all the wedding feasting. Then she lay, open eyed
through what remained of the night, listening to Sir Valaire’s
snores and the quieter breathing of his wife and two young sons,
and trying not to think about what was happening two chambers down
the corridor, where Thomas and Selene were. She failed miserably.
She could think of nothing else. Toward dawn she rose and crept out
of the bedchamber carrying her clothes. She fled barefoot and
shivering to the lavatorium, where she quickly washed and
dressed.

She was surprised that there was no one
about. The king and most of his courtiers were planning to leave
St. Albans today, so there ought to have been more activity. She
found the reason for the unnatural stillness when she opened the
guest-house door and stepped outside. There had been a heavy
snowfall during the night.

Arianna stood on the doorstep a moment.
Breathing in the clean, icy air, so cold it made her lungs hurt,
she let that cleanness dissolve all the unhappy thoughts the night
had brought to her. It was still dark. Only the faintest grey light
in the east pierced the heavy snow clouds to indicate the sun would
soon rise. Torches had been lit on either side of the door, and by
their light Arianna saw a stocky figure trudging toward her.

“Ye can get to the church easily enough now,
my lady. I’ve shoveled ye a path,” said the porter who usually
guarded the door. He stopped before Arianna, shovel over his
shoulder, his round face showing flushed and shiny with sweat in
the torchlight. “There’s another lady went before ye to the church.
In a great hurry she was, anxious to say her prayers, and much she
has to be thankful for, I’d say.”

Arianna hurried through the cold to the
church door. It was not much warmer inside. The monks were there,
kneeling in their stalls, but few lay people attended this early
Mass. Arianna tiptoed forward. She nearly stumbled in surprise when
she saw Selene kneeling on the stone floor. So that was who the
porter had meant. Arianna knelt beside her, but Selene did not
acknowledge her presence. When the service was over they walked
silently out of the church together.

It was lighter now, but the wind had risen
with the sun. It blew swirls of snow off the tops of high drifts
and into the church porch. The path the porter had shoveled earlier
was nearly drifted over.

Arianna shivered. Selene did not seem to
notice the cold. Her face was white and drawn, her lips pressed
tightly together. Arianna took her arm.

“I was surprised to see you here,” she
said.

“Out of bed, do you mean?” Selene’s voice was
hard as ice. “Thomas did what had to be done, and now he’s
sleeping. I trust he will leave me alone for a while. Until then, I
am free to pray for forgiveness of my many sins.”

“Oh, Selene.” Arianna did not know what to
say. She could not believe Thomas had mistreated his wife in any
way on their wedding night, yet Selene was obviously suffering.
Arianna wanted to put her arms around her dearest friend and
comfort her. But something told her Selene would not welcome the
gesture.

“I never wanted to marry,” Selene went on,
half to herself and still in that cold little voice. “I warned my
parents, but they would not listen to me. Now they have unleashed a
demon. I changed into someone else. Not Selene. And there was
blood.” She began to moan softly, her eyes unfocused.

“Selene, stop this. Stop at once.” Arianna
shook Selene’s arm, wondering if her friend had gone mad. But
Selene regained her composure almost immediately.

“Let us go inside and break our fast,” she
said calmly.

Arianna, too startled by this sudden change
to make any reply, followed Selene back to the guesthouse. There,
bread and cheese and hot ale had been provided in the large
reception room. Guy came in just as they were finishing their
morning meal. Arianna saw his eyebrows go up at the sight of
Selene. He came over to them, carrying a tankard of ale in one hand
and a wedge of brown bread in the other, and dropped onto the bench
beside Selene.

“Where’s Thomas?” he asked between bites of
the bread.

“I do not know,” Selene replied coldly, not
looking at him.

“We two went to early Mass,” Arianna
explained more warmly, feeling that Selene was being unnecessarily
rude to a man she ought not to offend. “Here comes Thomas now.”

“Selene, my love,” Thomas stood behind her,
putting one hand on her shoulder in a possessive gesture. “You
should have wakened me.”

“I wanted to be alone,” Selene replied,
trying to shake off his hand. Thomas let go of her shoulder, caught
her chin to tilt her face up, and planted a hearty kiss on her
mouth.

“I thought you might have run away from me,”
he joked.

“I would not get very far,” Selene retorted,
leaving Arianna wondering if she actually had considered flight.
“There is too much snow.”

“She’s right,” Guy added, shooting a shrewdly
appraising glance at Selene. “The roads are drifted too badly for
travel. We all must postpone our leaving for another day at
least.”

He looked most unhappy about it. Arianna knew
he was eager to be on his way to Afoncaer. She also suspected the
good brothers of St. Albans, honored though they were by the king’s
visit, would be relieved to have their guests leave at last. No one
would be pleased by the delay. With, it seemed, just one
exception.

“I won’t mind a bit. We will have more time
together.” Thomas beamed at Selene. She ignored him.

“I ought to go and tell Meredith about the
change in plans.” Guy finished his ale and rose. “I’ve already told
Kenelm and our men-at-arms, so you needn’t bother about that,
Thomas. Enjoy the day, my boy.”

Guy left them, and Thomas, after a moment,
held out his hand to Selene.

“Come, my love.”

“Come where?” Selene’s voice was still
ice-cold and filled with distaste.

“To our chamber. Come.” The warm look in
Thomas’s eyes left no doubt about his meaning. Unable to bear the
sight of that look, or the haughty rejection on Selene’s face,
Arianna stared hard into her empty ale mug.

Her chin high, Selene sat very still for a
while longer, letting Thomas stand and wait for her. Arianna stole
a glance at her and saw two spots of color flaming in Selene’s
cheeks. At last she stood up with an oddly languid grace. There was
a strange, wild look in her green eyes. Without a word to Arianna
she followed Thomas from the room. And Arianna, who would gladly
have changed places with Selene, could only gaze after them in
appalled wonder at her friend’s reluctance to bed with the husband
who so obviously adored her.

In that unusually severe winter of cold and
snow, storms were all too frequent. The whirling blizzard which had
begun the day after Thomas and Selene’s wedding kept the group from
Afoncaer confined at St. Albans for three extra days, a
circumstance which finally made them all unhappy, each for his or
her own reasons.

Thomas had at first been pleased to have more
time in private with Selene before the journey began, but by the
fourth day he, too, was eager to be on his way. Like Guy, he was
always concerned about Afoncaer. They were both eager to return to
the restive Welsh border, where trouble might erupt at any time.
They and the armed men who had accompanied them to St. Albans might
be badly needed. Meredith longed to see her home and her
nine-year-old daughter once more. All three worried about Reynaud
and the difficulties of transporting a badly injured man from
Wenlock Priory to Afoncaer in such weather.

Arianna chafed at the enforced inactivity of
St. Albans. She’d had more than enough of feasts and royal
entertainments, and of watching Thomas make all too plain his
devotion to Selene. Arianna wanted to be gone from that place and
ease her aching heart in the excitement of travel. Her deepest
desire during those snowy days was to be at Afoncaer and to immerse
herself in the new life and the opportunity Meredith had offered to
her. While waiting for the storm to end she spent as much time as
possible with Meredith. When she could not do that she went to the
abbey church and knelt on the cold stone floor, praying that the
unwanted, overwhelming, and totally hopeless love she felt for
Thomas might before long be converted into something less painful.
But at night, lying on the trundle bed in the room she still shared
with Lady Aloise and Sir Valaire and their sons, she knew her love
for Thomas was in her heart forever, and she must learn to endure
the pain it caused.

As for Selene, she had her own variety of
unhappiness to deal with as Thomas continued to make passionate
love to her each night, and to drag her with him, all unwilling,
into those realms of breathless, pulsating desire where she did not
want to go. Now, on the fifth morning after her marriage, Selene
was relieved to learn that immediately after Mass the company bound
for Afoncaer would set out upon the old Roman road, now called
Watling Street, that led north and west from St. Albans. They could
not be gone soon enough for her. She was heartily sick of bridal
jokes and sly looks from the courtiers who were all also snowbound.
They reminded her of the thing that happened at night when she was
alone with Thomas, the thing she hated and tried to prevent, yet
gave into repeatedly, unable to stop her body’s response to
him.

She had tried to appear indifferent to his
love and to the amused comments of the sophisticated nobles and
their ladies, maintaining her air of cold aloofness toward everyone
about her. She succeeded best with Thomas, who, she knew, was hurt
and bewildered by the contrast between their wildly passionate
nights together and the way she treated him in public.

“Could you not be a little kinder?” Arianna
asked, following Selene into her bedchamber. “You insulted the poor
man just now, and for no cause at all.”

Selene shrugged and did not reply.

“Really,” Arianna went on, “you are the most
exasperating creature. Anyone else in your position would be happy,
yet you do nothing but sulk all the time. You will drive Thomas
away from you when he wants to honor and love you. Have some
thought for him.”

“I am not sulking, and my position is more
miserable than you can imagine,” Selene replied sharply. “I loathe
marriage. And why should you be concerned for Thomas? He’s nothing
to you. Where are you going? I need you to help with packing the
rest of these clothes. The serving women are all with Meredith.
Arianna?” But Arianna had fled the room. Selene tossed the
offending gowns upon the bed in frustration.