by Speer, Flora
“Of course not,” Arianna cried, stung to defense of her new home. “Wales is a dangerous place, and this is a fortress, not a royal court. You never used to care about such things! You wanted to become a nun and renounce all worldly pleasures.”
“But then,” Selene went on as though Arianna had never spoken, “after all, who would send an innocent girl-child to learn manners and the duties of a chatelaine from an ignorant Saxon peasant wench? And what could she possibly teach a page?”
“Don’t speak like that!” Arianna exclaimed. “Meredith has shown you nothing but kindness, and she has proven herself a worthy friend to me.”
“I,” Selene declared, “shall never make a friend of her.”
“How can you dislike someone you scarcely know?” Arianna was becoming more and more upset. “You’ve made no effort to be agreeable to Meredith, or to anyone else. She and Guy must be regretting they let Thomas marry you.” Arianna shut her lips tightly together. She should not have said that. She did not want to quarrel with Selene. She had been sent to Afoncaer to be Selene’s friend, not her enemy.
“They may regret the marriage as much as I do,” Selene said calmly, “but not my dowry. They are very happy to have those gold coins. You see, I know my worth to them.”
Arianna, afraid she would say something so sharp it would destroy their friendship, excused herself and went back to Reynaud. She could not understand Selene. She had everything any young woman might want. She should have been happy, or at least content, yet she drifted about Afoncaer like some sad wraith, doing nothing useful. Arianna thought something was preying on Selene’s mind, but she could not imagine what it might be.
Unknown to her, Thomas thought so, too. He had been patient for over a week since Selene asked him to leave her alone. Each night she made some new excuse, and it was torture to lie next to her in their marriage bed and not touch her.
“I’ll do that no more,” Thomas said on the eighth morning. “Tonight we will make love, Selene. And tomorrow you will begin to act as my wife should, and do some useful work instead of sitting about in this room so indifferent to everything that happens around you.”
Selene glared at him, then stalked out of their room and went to the chapel without speaking a word. But that evening she sat looking at him over the rim of her wine goblet and there was a faint flush in her cheeks. Thomas was encouraged, believing that she had been thinking about his promise all day and that once they were alone in their bed she would accept him with the passion he knew she felt. Then he realized how much wine she had been drinking.
She staggered when she stood up at evening’s end, and if he had not caught her, she would have fallen stepping down from the dais. He kept his arm around her until they reached the spiral stairs.
“Shall I carry you?” he asked.
“I can walk, my lord,” she responded with pathetic dignity, reaching for the newel stone. She made it up the steps, slowly and none too steadily, Thomas following close behind her in case she should fall. When they reached their bedchamber at last, Selene grabbed at the bedpost to hold herself upright.
“You may leave me now,” she said, dismissing him as though he were a servant.
“The only place I am going,” Thomas declared, “is into that bed, with you. Take off your clothes, Selene.”
“I won’t.”
“If you do not, I’ll do it for you. I won’t be gentle, either. You’ve tried my patience too far, woman. You are my wife, and tonight I’ll lay with you.”
“Please, no. Please, Thomas.”
He ignored the plea, and the frightened look on her face. He pulled off the long, loose robe he wore indoors. In spite of the heat given off by the two braziers Selene kept burning at all times, the room was cold. The wind rattled the shutters. Thomas could see a fine sifting of snow on the floor beneath the narrow windows. Another heavy snowstorm had arrived, and howling winds echoed around the tower keep. Thomas shivered, wanting the warmth of the furs on his bed and the heat of his wife’s passion.
Selene hadn’t moved. She still clung to the bedpost. He saw her run her tongue across her lips as she stared at his naked body. She tightened her hands on the smooth, rounded wood she held, moving her fingers up and down on it, staring at him, and he knew what her emerald eyes had looked upon. She might deny it, but she wanted him, too. This reluctance was a game she played. It was stimulating, but it was over.
“I said undress, Selene.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m drunk.”
“You are that, but it’s not as bad as you pretend. I know. I watched you in the hall. You have no excuses left, my lady. Take off your clothes.”
She looked at him and saw in his face that he meant to have her tonight and every night for the rest of their lives if he wanted her. The delays were over. There was nothing else she could do. And now, tonight, the thing within her, the demon she had fought for so long, would gain ascendancy, would take over her life. From this night on, the Selene who stood before her husband trembling while she slowly, unwillingly, removed her clothing, that Selene would no longer exist, but would be gone forever. She stifled a sob. He would not see her cry. She still had her pride. While she was still Selene. For a moment or two more.
She laid down the last garment. She was naked. She did not feel the cold that was making her shiver.
“I am ready, my lord,” she said, facing him bravely.
“Come here.”
She made herself walk to him, until their bodies just touched, and then she stopped. He caught her face between his hands. He looked deep into her eyes, and Selene felt herself begin to vanish, and the other Selene begin to take her place. Her heart was beating wildly. That was always the first sign.
“My sweet love,” Thomas whispered. “Put your arms around me.”
She obeyed. She had no choice, and in that obeying she was lost, as she had been lost each time he made love to her. She felt his hard body against hers, felt his need, sensed it as though she were a great distance away, standing outside herself and watching Selene and Thomas. She moaned, a soft, involuntary sound, one he did not hear as his mouth touched hers, but Selene heard it just as she vanished and the other one, the wicked creature inside her, took over her body.
She strained against him, digging her fingers into his back. His mouth was bruising hers, but she did not care. She opened her lips and took his thrusting tongue inside her, accepting him, needing him so desperately she thought she would die of it.
“I want you,” she moaned. “I want you, Thomas.”
With a cry of triumph, he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bed. He placed her there as though she were some great treasure, and then he lay down beside her. He buried his face in the soft curve of her throat, and gathered her close in his arms. He would have been gentle with her and restrained himself, though his need was great after two weeks of abstinence, broken only by the brief episode at Wenlock. He tried to hold back, but Selene would not have it. She hurried him, her searching hands stirring the fires he tried to keep banked, her kisses scalding his body, her mouth and tongue hot on his manhood, her ferocious passion driving him beyond all possibility of control. He felt her frantic motions, saw the look of pleasure on her lovely face as he possessed her, though at that moment he was not certain whether he had entered her or she him. They were one, that was all that mattered. He heard her cry out, felt the pulsing waves that wracked her body, and then he knew nothing but pleasure so intense it was painful.
“Not Selene. Not Selene.”
Thomas dragged himself back from wherever he had been during the last few wild minutes, and tried to gather his wits together. She was doing it again, and he had to know what it meant.
“Selene did not. Would not. Selene is gone.”
His wife lay beside him, her face colorless, one tear trickling from under closed lashes.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “Selene, speak to me.”
Slowly the thick, black
lashes lifted. She looked lost and confused.
“Why do you say such things? You do it every time we make love.”
“She’s gone.” The husky voice was just a little sad. “She has left me.”
“Who is gone?” Thomas wanted to shake her, but he knew there was something very wrong here, and he feared hurting her.
“Selene.” Her voice was so low he had to bend closer to hear it.
“You are Selene.” Ice prickled up and down his spine. He did not know this woman. He possessed her body, that was all. They were still strangers, and the mysterious air about her that had so intrigued him was, on this icy, wind-howling night, more frightening than exciting.
Selene drew a deep breath, as though she had no air in her lungs at all, then let it out slowly. The blankness cleared from her eyes.
“Thomas. Well, you’ve had your way.”
“You mean you have had yours. You very nearly attacked me, Selene. You were ravenous.” An idea struck him, dispelling the puzzled fear he had felt. He looked at her more closely. “Why do you deny your feelings? Why do you pretend you don’t want me when you so obviously do?”
She would have turned away from him and moved to the other side of the bed, but he caught a fistful of her shining hair and pulled her around so he could look into her eyes.
“Answer me,” he growled. “What’s wrong with you?”
Her expression was hostile, furious anger filling her eyes, but Thomas’s determination more than matched her rage, and after a while she relented.
“Let me go and I’ll tell you. It’s only fair. You deserve that much. It’s not your fault, Thomas. You have been very patient with me, though patience won’t make any difference.”
He removed his hand from her hair and lay watching her, ready to capture her again should she try to get away from him, but she only pulled a fur up to cover her shoulders.
“What do you know of my mother?” she asked.
“Lady Aloise? Not very much. I know more about Sir Valaire. I do remember Aloise was once married to a very old man. That was when I was page to King Henry. He wasn’t king yet. His older brother was.”
“King William Rufus,” Selene said. “A wicked man. And so was my mother wicked, Thomas. She was wed at fourteen to Sir Stephen of Dol, who was nearly sixty and in his dotage. He let her do whatever she wanted. My mother led a scandalous life at court. She had numerous lovers.”
“I do recall,” Thomas said gently, “that she was very pretty. But how do you know this, Selene? Whatever happened during that time, it was before your mother married Sir Valaire, and long before you were born.”
“I had the story from my father’s mother,” Selene said. “My grandmother detested my mother, but there was nothing she could do to stop her son from marrying his dear Lady Aloise.”
“I have never heard a word of scandal about your mother since she wed Sir Valaire. How can you blame her for rumors about things that may or may not have happened before you were even born?”
“I do blame her,” Selene replied heatedly. “I was born just one week too late for my grandmother to call me a bastard child, and I heard, throughout my childhood, how wicked my mother was, how tainted with the sin of lust. That’s why I was schooled in a convent instead of being fostered at another noble home as most girls are. It was because my grandmother convinced my father I’d bring him bastard grandchildren if I had the chance. In a convent I would be safe, and he’d not have to worry about my causing a scandal. I was no sooner in that school than my grandmother died, but it was too late for me. I heard stories about my mother from the other girls, and from the nuns. I had to endure the shame of knowing that most of what my grandmother had told me was true.”
“I knew you were not fond of your mother,” Thomas said. “So this is why.”
“I came to hate her. And to hate the lascivious nature I inherited from her. My grandmother’s fears were justified. Aloise’s tainted blood flows in my veins. As I grew older, I began to have sinful feelings. I thought about men. I have five brothers, I knew well enough what a man looks like, and sometimes I would imagine how it might be to be held in a man’s arms, to have a man inside me.”
“There is nothing sinful about that, Selene. Young men think about women, too, and about making love. It’s perfectly natural.”
“The priest to whom I confessed said it wasn’t. He gave me a long and arduous penance. It was then I decided I had to become a nun. It was the only way I could think of to curb my lustful nature.” Selene sighed and looked at him through her thick lashes. “I’m more drunk than you thought, Thomas, to tell you all this. I’ve never spoken of it before, not to anyone.”
“I’m glad you didn’t become a nun, Selene.”
“That was my father’s doing. He decided I ought to marry in a way that would be advantageous to him. I did not want to marry anyone,” Selene went on. “I was afraid that once I had lain with a man I would never again be able to control my desires, that I would want dozens of lovers, just like my mother.”
“And now that you have lain with a man, and found pleasure in it, do you want lovers?”
“No!” Her emerald eyes were wide with fear. “No.”
“But you do want your husband, I think. Answer me truly, Selene.”
“I try not to, but when you put your hands on me and begin to kiss me, then something happens inside me. There is another Selene who takes over my thoughts and makes me do those things, makes me touch you where I ought not to, and kiss you – oh, Thomas, there is a demon inside me, a wicked, lustful devil! The thing I have feared most all my life, that I would prove to be like my mother, is true. I am every bit as wicked as she was in her youth. That’s why I have avoided you and refused you. I have to keep this demon locked up, lest it destroy me, and you.”
“My love, my dearest love.” Thomas pulled her against his chest, holding her tenderly. “It’s no devil, it’s your own divided heart.”
“Lust is a sin,” Selene insisted, her voice smothered as she clung to him, shaking with the relief of telling someone the terrible fears that had been bottled up inside her, and of finding that person did not turn from her in disgust.
“You are right,” Thomas said. “It is a sin if you want someone else’s husband or wife, or if you are not dealing honestly with someone. But that is not what we are discussing, Selene. Did you know I spent two years as a novice at Llangwilym Abbey? I seriously considered becoming a priest. I’ll tell you what the abbot told me when I finally left, knowing I would have to marry some day. He said the good Lord meant His children to be happy, and therefore love between husband and wife that brings them pleasure is a joy to Him who made us.”
“An abbot said that?” Selene sat up, moving away from him, her eyes wide. Thomas nodded, and she sat absorbing his words. “An abbot ought to be wiser about such things than a simple priest who comes to a convent to hear confessions.”
“I’m certain of it,” Thomas said.
“I’ll have to think about this.” Selene frowned. “But that other person inside me. It’s as though Selene vanishes and the other person becomes Selene. Because she was so hungry for you I thought tonight that she would take over my being, and I would never find my way back. But when you told me to open my eyes and speak to you, I did come back. I wanted to be with you so much that I was able to overcome her.”
“My dear love, don’t you see how torn and divided you have been? Have you never heard a man say he is of two minds about something? After he has made his choice, then those two minds are one again. Isn’t it possible that your two halves could become one? As you and I do when we make love? It might happen if you could stop hating what we do together, and learn to accept it as something good.”
It seemed to Thomas there was a new light in Selene’s eyes, a gleam of hope he had never seen there before.
“I think it will take a very long time,” she said after a while. “But I will try, if you will help me.”
“I will,
my love.” She nestled in his arms, coming to him willingly, and for the first time relaxing against him in complete trust.
“Thomas, how are you so wise? How could you be so certain of how I feel, and of what I ought to do about it?”
“Because I have had similar feelings,” he told her.
“You? About lying with me?”
“Never about you,” Thomas said, tightening his arms about her for an instant, to reassure her. “I have loved you since the first moment I saw you. But like you, I was ashamed of one of my parents – my father – and like you, I tried to prevent myself from becoming what he was by withdrawing from the world. Do you know anything of him, Selene?”
“Baron Lionel? Only that he ruled Afoncaer, and that he was Lady Isabel’s first husband.”
“I think it may be partly his fault that my mother grew into the abominable person she is today. My father was too dear a friend to King William Rufus, and far too ambitious. He was a cruel baron to Afoncaer, until the Welsh rose against his oppression and killed him. I was afraid that in time I would grow to be like him.”
“You could never be cruel,” Selene said, recalling all the provocation she had offered him. Any other man would have beaten her many times over. “You have too kind a heart for cruelty, Thomas.”
“That is just what Father Ambrose told me. My friend, the abbot of Llangwilym, who helped me to better understand myself. He said I had no true calling for the Church, that I should go out into the world and do as much good there as I could, and be an honorable heir to Uncle Guy, who needs me.”
“I think I would like to meet this Father Ambrose,” Selene murmured.
“I’ll see to it that you do. Now you know why I was two years late to my knighting, and how I understand your divided heart. We will make each other whole, you and I.”
She was silent for a long time, and he thought she had drifted off to sleep. At last she spoke again, very softly.
“Thomas? Would you – could we make love again, and this time I will try not to be afraid?”
