Love's Captive Heart

by Phoebe Conn

  Thinking the fog might be hugging the coastline, Mylan set their course for the open seas. But it was soon clear that if the dense mist had an outer boundary, he could not find it. Returning to skirt the shoreline, they made no better progress than they had the previous day, and by late afternoon they had all grown weary with the effort. With extra rations of ale, the crew’s mood improved somewhat, but Mylan felt as though he were battling an enemy who could neither be seen nor heard, and, frustrated by his own inability to proceed with his customary swiftness, he strode off down the beach, trying to walk off the nervous tension that would never permit him to sleep.

  Once alone he admitted to himself that he had been completely unsuccessful in keeping thoughts of Celiese out of his mind that day. Her delightful presence seemed to swirl about him with the persistence of the mist, until it seemed she had created the fog herself simply to torment him.

  “Lady Celiese d’Loganville,” he whispered softly, and, letting his thoughts come freely without restraint, he began to wonder what their life would have been had he never discovered her true identity. Would the sweetness she had shown him upon their first meeting have continued? She had told him that was her true self—the one in which he had believed for all too few hours before Raktor and his sons had plunged his life into chaos.

  What if that dear creature were the wife he should have had? Would she ever have told him who she really was, or asked for his help in returning home? Somehow he thought not, for when she had first told him of her past, her home and family had seemed lost to her, gone forever, and she had had no hope of returning to the land of her birth.

  It was much later, only after he had sent her away, that she began to dream of her homeland, and with Hagen’s encouragement had sought a way to return to it. He scuffed his toe in the sand, finally digging a hole with vicious kicks as he acknowledged that he had seen from the behavior of André and the others she was exactly who she had claimed to be. Indeed, Robert’s fear of her influence confirmed her bloodline, as well.

  Certain he had discovered an important truth, Mylan walked slowly along the damp sand, remembering her every gesture, each nuance of expression he had seen and loved. It still hurt to remember that she had heard him shout to Andrick that he did not love her, for that had been his pride not his heart speaking, and yet it was a cruelty she had endured without comment.

  He saw it all then, with a clarity that astonished him. Celiese was, most significantly, a young woman who had in the worst of circumstances been forced to learn how to survive on her own. A dear and pampered child, she had seen the home she loved put to the torch, while all around her the bodies of those she adored lay in bloody heaps. As if that horror were not enough to endure, she had been kidnapped, and taken to a new land, and yet she had lost neither her sense of her own identity nor her pride. Time and again he had blamed the very pride that made her so magnificent a creature for their problems, but it was suddenly plain to him that it was her very determination to live her life to the fullest that he admired most. She had accepted him as he was; knowing little of his past, she had wanted to share his future, not as the slave he had made of her, but as the equal she demanded and had every right to be. Appalled by the enormity of his countless errors, he knew without question that by leaving her, he had thrown away whatever happiness the fates had planned for them to share. All he deserved was to sail on forever surrounded by an impenetrable fog, for truly even when the skies were clear he saw nothing. As he turned to walk back to his camp, he saw no way to right the many wrongs he had done his beautiful bride, none at all, but he hid his depression from his crew just as he had hidden his love from Celiese. He was too proud a man to show any sign of emotion in front of them, but the price he had paid for that pride had not been worth the pain.

  Celiese waited anxiously in the small parlor of the Convent of Saint Valery, uncertain what her mother’s reaction would be to her second visit. The fire upon the, hearth was most welcome, but while it provided an outer warmth, her heart still held an unshakable chill. When, after a long wait, her mother appeared, she rose to meet her, her smile wavering as she greeted her. “It is good of you to see me again, Mama. I am sorry I had no way to tell you I was coming.”

  “You are alone this time?” Marie asked suspiciously. In her long gray habit she appeared to float across the distance separating them, but her green eyes were cold, devoid of any welcoming sparkle.

  “If you are referring to my husband, he has left me, so I am quite alone,” she explained calmly, none of her intense sorrow evident in either her tone of voice or her expression.

  Intrigued, Marie came closer. “You have come to join us then, as I asked you to?”

  “No, it is impossible, for Mylan has become a Christian, and we were married again. I doubt that this order or any other would accept a woman whose husband is still living.” At least she had never heard of such a thing.

  Frowning, Marie took a place upon the bench opposite the fire and patted the cushion beside her. When Celiese sat down, she laced her fingers in hers. “If the man has deserted you, perhaps an annulment can be arranged.”

  “No, I’ll not ask for one.” Making every effort to gain her mother’s understanding once again, Celiese asked only that she might be permitted to stay at the convent for a brief visit. “I need time to collect my thoughts, for so much has happened since we last spoke that I have had great difficulty placing it all in its proper perspective. I will work at whatever chores you wish to assign me; all I ask is that I be given some time each day to be alone with my own thoughts.”

  Marie was puzzled by her daughter’s subdued mood. “Our door is open to those who wish to seek God, Celiese, not to women searching for an easy escape from a life they find too difficult to live. The challenges presented here are far greater than any you will ever confront in the outside world.”

  “You are speaking of understanding the mysteries that lie hidden within the human heart?” Celiese asked softly.

  “Why, yes, that is one way to state our quest,” Marie replied with surprise.

  Celiese responded with an enchanting smile. “That is precisely why I have come.”

  *

  The changeless routine of the convent was soothing in itself, for Celiese found the choices as to how she would spend her days had already been made for her. The sisters were either in the chapel or working at their assigned tasks. An introspective group, they were silent during meals, but their food was plentiful, providing a variety of vegetables and grains, butter and cheese, if little meat. She had her own room, a tiny one, so the nausea that continued to plague her mornings went unnoticed, but it worried her greatly. For the rest of the day she found her appetite voracious and was embarrassed to think she might be eating more than her share, but the sisters were generous and did not seem to mind, if in fact they had even noticed.

  They complimented her upon her delicate touch with needle and thread and provided her with a large basket of garments needing repair. Far from being insulted by the humble task, Celiese found sewing as pleasurable as it had been when she had been with Olgrethe. With her hands occupied in useful work, she was able to contemplate her future without being rushed to make any decisions for the present. But it was Mylan who occupied all her thoughts.

  She soon realized she had been a poor wife to him, for she had failed to make him understand how dearly he was loved. Something else had always taken precedence: winning her freedom, coming home, regaining her estate, all important quests, but empty victories when he was not there to share them. More often than not she found herself in tears, upset at the slightest obstacle, even if it was no more than a broken thread, or the fact that she was late to chapel. Her thinking was becoming clearer each day, but, sadly, her emotional turmoil had not lessened. She missed Mylan too greatly to concentrate on any task fully without his handsome face filling her thoughts. The memories of his smile and his kiss were most precious, but they brought an agony, as well, for they were a contin
uous reminder of what she had lost.

  Finding her daughter seated beneath a window to take advantage of the sunlight while she did her mending, Marie sat down upon the bench beside her. After remarking upon the fineness of her work, she came to the true reason for their conversation. “You are happy here, aren’t you? Content with the life we live?”

  Attempting to be as tactful as possible, Celiese hesitantly agreed. “Yes, your hospitality is most gracious, and I am more than content.” As content as possible without Mylan, she did not add, but it was the truth of her situation.

  Clearing her throat nervously, Marie hoped to avoid an argument and continued quickly. “Mylan is a Dane, Celiese, his conversion quite recent, and from the way in which he deserted you I’d say it was most insincere. When you are certain you are not carrying his child, I think we should seek an annulment of your marriage so that you might join our order.”

  At the mention of a child, Celiese blushed deeply. “It is too soon for me to be positive, Mama, but each day I grow more certain, and an annulment would be most inappropriate if I am to bear Mylan’s child.”

  Devastated by that possibility, Marie was near tears as she rose to her feet. “We must pray such a travesty does not come to pass, for now that you are free of the man, the last thing you need is the responsibility of rearing his son.”

  “He would be my son as well, or perhaps I will have a daughter, Mama, your grandchild. Can you not think of a babe in those terms?” Celiese hardly dared hope she was pregnant, but if she were, she would love Mylan’s baby as dearly as she had loved him. With a smile she thought how shocked he would be to hear he had an heir; it was an even better surprise than she had hoped to give him by completing her house without his help.

  Before Marie could respond, the stone walls of the ancient convent reverberated with a din as deafening as thunder, growing in intensity as the small wooden door at the entrance creaked and groaned under repeated blows from a battering ram. Celiese lay her mending aside as she leapt to her feet. With her mother’s help, she managed to wrench open the narrow leaded glass window so they could look down upon the scene below.

  Marie was terrified at the sight of the six muscular Danes who were moving back with carefully measured steps, preparing to strike the splintered door another fearsome blow. Celiese, however, called down to the tall blond man standing to one side who had been shouting directions. This time she remembered to use his Christian name. “Michael, if you wished to see me, you needed to do no more than ring the bell, and I would have come to the door.”

  “That is your husband?” Marie gasped in horror, her fair skin growing deathly pale. The young man had not only height and obvious strength, but the beauty of a god, as well. The sun sparkled upon his tawny curls, and his light eyes glowed with the golden gleam of a wildcat’s as he looked up at her. He was the most attractive of men, but that did not diminish her fear, and she gripped her daughter’s arm tightly, “Do not let him break down the door! Send him away at once, he must not be allowed to enter!”

  The terror in her expression was too real for Celiese not to readily comprehend its cause, and she hugged her mother warmly as she reassured her there was nothing to fear. “Mylan has come to speak with me, Mama, not to harm you or any of the other dear sisters. You will see, please have faith in me if you cannot as yet have any in him.”

  Looking out again, Celiese saw the young men had dropped the log they had carried and had moved back to stare up at her. Waving, she called to her husband, “I will be but a moment, please wait for me.” Stopping to be certain her mother had recovered from her initial shock at finding so threatening a group of young men at her door, she ran from the room and with flying steps hurried down the winding staircase to reach the first floor. Several of the younger sisters were working together to push heavy pieces of furniture behind the battered door in an attempt to keep the men outside from forcing the entrance, and Celiese had first to convince them to move the makeshift barricade aside before she could leave.

  Once unlocked, the old door dangled precariously on its hinges, but with the assistance of the sisters she was able to open it wide enough to slip through. She smiled at the men she recognized from the Surf Falcon, and they grinned sheepishly in return, obviously embarrassed to have been involved in so unnecessary an assault. Mylan, on the other hand, seemed merely astonished, and none of the pretty speeches she had been rehearsing in her mind to greet him seemed appropriate when he had arrived bent on storming the walls rather than politely requesting a chance to talk with her. Thinking she should hear the explanation for the violence of his action first, she held her tongue and waited for him to speak.

  Mylan could not believe the ease with which Celiese had simply walked out to meet him as if he had knocked in a gentlemanly fashion upon the convent door, and he felt utterly ridiculous for having behaved in so outrageous a manner. She looked even more beautiful than he had remembered, which he had not thought possible. Her smile was enchanting, her fair complexion glowing with the bloom of health, her shimmering curls falling loose about her shoulders, and as always the desire she inspired overwhelmed him and he blurted out the first thought that came to his mind.

  “They allow you to wear your own clothing rather than insist you dress as the others do?”

  Celiese glanced down at the pretty silk gown, pleased by his admiring glance. He apparently still thought her attractive. “Why yes, of course, for I am no more than a visitor here.” Suddenly realizing the nature of his concern, she inquired softly, “Is that what you thought, that I’d entered the convent?”

  Mylan glanced up at the frightened faces peeking out of the narrow windows of the upper stories of the large stone edifice. He gave the ladies a reassuring smile, but none of their expressions changed to more friendly ones, which did not surprise him. He had undoubtedly scared them all nearly witless, and he could think of no suitable way to apologize for mounting such a senseless attack upon their home.

  “I had expected to find you at your house. André was there with some other men who were gathering stones. He said only the name of the convent, and I remembered your telling me that when women entered the order they remained inside forever.” While his mistake was an understandable one, he was appalled by the enormity of his error.

  Celiese wanted only to throw her arms around him and cover his face with lavish kisses, but she waited patiently for a more appropriate time to display the affection filling her heart to overflowing. “I can see how you misunderstood his message, and I am certain if you and your men would be so kind as to repair the door, you will be forgiven for the rashness of your actions. I will explain to the sisters that you did not realize my stay here was only temporary, and they will understand why your reaction was such a desperate and reckless one.”

  At least she hoped they would be sympathetic, but she would have to use her most forceful arguments to convince them her handsome Danish husband had only the purest of motives when he had mounted such a furious assault upon their sacred residence.

  Blushing with embarrassment, Mylan pointed to the damaged door. “What is left of that door is beyond repair; we will have to make a new one.”

  “That will be even better. I am certain they will appreciate it,” Celiese offered agreeably. “Now would you care to walk a few paces into the woods with me where we can discuss the reason for your visit without attracting so much attention?” Taking his arm, she gestured toward the forest that surrounded the convent walls, and he readily accepted her suggestion. But once they could no longer be observed, he seemed unable to find any explanation for what he had done, so she prompted him.

  “You frightened my mother, as well as all the others, quite badly. Perhaps after she has had time to regain her composure, I can convince her to come to the entrance so I may introduce you.”

  “I doubt she’ll want to bother after that ridiculous display of stupidity!” Mylan was furious with himself, but he had thought her lost to him forever, and he had go
ne after her in the only way he had known how. However, his deed had not been the heroic one he had imagined, but merely foolish, and the accompanying shame appalled him.

  Seeing a fallen log, Celiese sat down upon it as she continued to give her husband her full attention. “I am not angry with you, please don’t be so mad at yourself. We are quite alone here; now what was it you wished to say to me that was so urgent? I will be happy to listen for as long as it takes you to explain.”

  Her expression held only concern and not ridicule, and he went to her side, but he sat down upon the carpet of fallen leaves and leaned back against the log, hoping his task would be an easier one if he did not have to contend with her distracting beauty. “You told me once that I should be patient, that even as man and wife you and I were strangers still, and that misunderstandings were bound to occur between us. Do you recall that conversation?”

  With a sweet smile, she recalled the exact time and place. “Yes, we were in your father’s home, in your room, in fact. We had just gone there after leaving the party celebrating our marriage.” His marriage to Olgrethe, she was tempted to say, but thought better of it.

  “Yes, and I had only one thought on my mind. You were a lovelier bride than I had dared hope to have, bright and so considerate, but you were right in saying we were strangers. I thought we would have a lifetime to become well acquainted, but that one night was all we had. I did not mean to be such a poor husband to you, to accept you that night and then turn my back upon you at dawn.”