Siren Song

by Roberta Gellis

  “Mount me,” he gasped. “I am your stallion. Mount me. Ride me.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide with surprise. How simple! What a fool she was never to have thought of it. Hastily she came upright, straddled him.

  “Take—” he began, and choked on his eagerness.

  But it was not necessary to give further instructions. Elizabeth’s own need taught her. Heaven! She was, for the first time, mistress of her own pleasure. Unfettered by her partner’s weight, she could twist, grind, move fast or slow, apply pressure where she wanted it. Beneath her William panted and groaned, but he lay still as he had promised, only running his hands up and down her body, playing with her breasts and belly, fingering her navel and buttocks.

  The heaven Elizabeth had found was too deliriously exciting to last. She fell forward, catching herself just before her full weight came upon her lover, thrusting quicker, quicker. Her mouth opened, a shriek of agonized joy rising in her throat, but William was ready. He pulled her head down so that her cry was muffled into his mouth. Again! Again! Again! And then she was still.

  “Move,” William groaned. “For God’s sake, move or I must!”

  His hands gripped her hips, lifted her a little. Elizabeth drew a trembling breath, pulled away, thrust forward again when William’s hands drew her down. She was dazed with reaction, almost unwilling, but in seconds she understood the demand being made of her. There was no discomfort in obeying. Opening her eyes, which had closed as her own orgasm came upon her, she watched William’s response to her movement with interest and delight, taking, at last, almost as much pleasure in his climax as she had had from her own.

  When his breath came evenly again, she eased herself off him and lay by his side. He moved his arm to take her head upon his shoulder, having forgotten for a moment his hurt, but winced and desisted. They lay quietly, just touching, holding hands. There was no need for words. Contentment enfolded them both. William slipped asleep, and Elizabeth’s mind wandered here and there idly for quite some time until, while admiring William’s cleverness in obtaining privacy for them, she remembered that the last thing he should have done was send Alys and Raymond out together.

  That worry brought a flood of others, the most pressing being what they were to do when Mauger returned. Nothing had really changed. Elizabeth’s responsibility to her sons and to Hurley still lay upon her. She lifted herself carefully away from William, got out of the bed, and began to dress. Before she was finished, William reached out to where she had been lying, muttered, and then opened his eyes.

  “Come back,” he sighed.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Go back to sleep.”

  The long lashes drooped, then lifted again. “I cannot bear it,” he said.

  “Do not be so silly.” Elizabeth forced herself to smile. “Even a wedded wife would flee your bed at such a time. For shame! In the middle of the forenoon, and you still abed with your hurts. Such wantonness!”

  That made him smile too, but the trouble did not clear from his eyes. “I have waited long enough,” he said, “more than half my life.”

  “Let it be, William,” Elizabeth sighed.

  “You mean I must go on waiting—forever? That when Mauger returns we are to be no more to each other than we ever were?”

  “What can I do?” she cried. “Must I brand myself publicly as a—as an adulteress? Do you find that word prettier than whore?”

  “Nonsense! There are reasons enough to annul a marriage if we are all agreed. I have Richard’s ear, and through him the ear of Boniface, the archbishop.”

  “Mauger will never agree.”

  “Why not?” William asked sharply. “Does he hold you so dear?”

  “He holds Hurley dear!”

  “I have thought of an answer to that,” William said, lifting himself on his elbow.

  Automatically Elizabeth pushed the pillows so that he could sit, but then she stepped back and folded her hands. “Be reasonable, William. No woman is worth what Mauger will demand for spite. I cannot bear to think of you struggling, as I have struggled, to pay debts that only grow larger and larger with each year. Besides, even if he wished to agree, his pride would not permit him to do it. Can you imagine what would be said if it became known that his wife was now the wife of his neighbor?”

  “I have thought of an answer to that also,” William interrupted. “I have had much time to think these past days, and I have thought of nothing else. Listen to me. I will not offer your husband money but an equivalent estate, perhaps one that carries with it a minor title.” When he said that, Elizabeth’s eyes brightened.

  “A title? Oh, William, do you think it is possible to arrange such a thing? To be called ‘Lord Mauger’ might release me, even if the estate were not so rich as Hurley.” Then her enthusiasm dimmed. “But there remains the problem of our marriage, if it were known I was your neighbor—”

  “That problem would not arise if you and I did not live at Marlowe.”

  “Not live at Marlowe?” Tears came to Elizabeth’s eyes and she knelt by the bed to kiss William’s hands. To be so precious that William would give up Marlowe for her! “I cannot let you do it,” she sighed. “You would come to hate me.”

  He drew her up to sit beside him. “Not for that, surely, if I never came to hate you over the years when I thought you had betrayed me, like a siren you drew me to destruction with the song of your grace and your beauty.”

  Elizabeth laughed and kissed him. “William, William, my beauty is in your eyes.”

  He stared at her, almost as if he were trying to see if what she said were true, but after a moment he smiled and shrugged. “In any case, dear heart, it would not be forever. I have been gone for a few years at a time before—”

  “But Alys was here, and Sir Peter. William, what are you thinking of? Alys must marry, and soon. You cannot expect her to wait—”

  “I do not expect it. Did you not see the way she seized on Raymond when I bid her go? I admit my attention was somewhat divided, but it seemed to me—”

  “You are willing for her to marry Raymond? But he has nothing!”

  William shrugged, winced, and uttered a soft oath at his carelessness. As he grew better, he continually forgot his half-healed wounds and hurt himself. “None of us will be rich,” he said. “Bix must go to Alys when she marries anyway, but she and Raymond may remain here and manage both places. And we are not so young, Elizabeth, that you are likely to give me a large brood for which I will have to provide. As for me, Richard has been after me for years to be marshal for him.”

  “You will not get poor doing that!” Elizabeth exclaimed. She was breathing quick with excitement. “It might work, William. Alys does love Raymond, but will the king be willing to bestow a title on Mauger?”

  “Probably yes. And just now, when all is sweetness and light between Richard and his brother, Henry will enjoy doing any favor asked of him.”

  “William, where is Earl Richard?”

  “There is the one rub, my love. He is in Scotland, and I cannot ask him to come home just to do this for me.”

  His expression was perfectly serious, and Elizabeth burst out laughing. “Oh, William, how silly you are. How can you say such a thing in all seriousness, as if our little problem was of such import that the Earl of Cornwall must abandon negotiations that concern the whole realm to attend to us?”

  William grinned at her. “It is ridiculous,” he admitted, “but it is important to me and do not think Richard will be indifferent. He has used every device short of an absolute command which he knows I would have to obey to induce me into his service. Nonetheless, I will say nothing to him when I write. We will have to wait until he returns, but it cannot be very long, beloved. A few weeks or a month.”

  “No…only…William, you must say nothing to Mauger until everything else is settled. Every minute he has to think will raise his price.”

  “But that would mean—”

  “I will have to go back to him until every
thing is ready—yes. Oh William, do not look like that! You know there is nothing between us nor has been for fourteen years. Besides, Emma is there. Who could want me when Emma was available?”

  “I!” William replied dryly.

  “Well, you are a little mad.” She leaned forward and kissed him long and tenderly. “I-I must ask you to say nothing about Alys and Raymond either. I know you do not believe Mauger was involved in the attempts on you, but—”

  “I do not like to deceive him further, Elizabeth. And perhaps if he knows the estates can never be joined, he will be better content to take another.”

  “Then add that to the whole,” Elizabeth paused and looked down at her hands, then raised her eyes. “It is for my own sake that I ask this, William. Mauger is not cruel to me usually, but he will kill me for coming here and leaving Alys free to fall in love with Raymond. It does not matter what you will say to him, that is how he will think of it. And I cannot claim I could not know it would happen because he warned me of it that time he brought me over in June.”

  “If he lays a hand on you, I will kill him,” William said softly. “If he ever in the past—”

  “No! William! Do not throw away our chance for happiness. I assure you Mauger does not mistreat me and never has. It is only that this thing is so important to him. That is why I cannot help feeling he had something to do with your troubles in Wales. The joining of Ilmer, Hurley, Marlowe, and Bix has become an obsession with him.”

  That was possible. William frowned as he thought about it. It was possible, but he wanted to believe it enough to make him suspect his own judgment. “Very well. I will say nothing, but that means I must also say nothing to Raymond or Alys. That makes it harder. It is cruel to leave them in doubt. And what am I to do if Raymond makes a formal proposal to me? He is a most honorable young man. If he suspects Alys favors him, he will either ask for her hand or ask leave to go away, and I cannot spare him, not for a few weeks until I am sufficiently healed to bear arms.”

  “I can manage that for you,” Elizabeth said, and began to explain how Alys had confessed her love and she had not had strength enough to deny her. William listened, but his mind was not completely on what she was saying. He pulled her toward him and kissed her lingeringly. Martin, who had come to bring his master a meal, stopped dead in the doorway and then backed silently out of sight. He had not been particularly quiet in entering, but William and Elizabeth were too wrapped up in each other to hear.

  “My love, my love,” William murmured. “Did you think I would count the cost if Alys’s heart was set?”

  “No, but… Oh William, we are not being very wise. Alys is so beautiful. Are we letting her waste herself? Are we being selfish?”

  “I tell you Raymond is a fine man, loyal and honorable and not one to put his pleasure above his duty. He will be a good husband. If Mauger had been as rich as Richard, Elizabeth, would you have been happier with him?”

  “No!”

  “Do you think Alys of a flighty, changeable nature?”

  “No—no, she is not. You are right, I suppose. It is better to be poor and happy. Well, then, what I will do is tell her I have hinted the matter to you and that you did not fly into a rage or forbid it out of hand. That will give her a good hope that you will agree. I will also tell her not to speak of it to you and to forbid Raymond to speak of it until you are able to bear arms.”

  “Why? Are you going to tell my daughter that I am so delicate that a shock would throw me into a decline? She will never believe you.”

  “Do not be ridiculous,” Elizabeth giggled. “You are not the declining sort, William. You glower. No, it is most reasonable. Alys will understand that if Raymond speaks and you do not approve or even feel you need time to think, you will have to send him away. Then, if there should be trouble of any kind, you would naturally feel obliged to put on your armor and settle it, even if you were not sound.”

  “I see that you prefer me as an idiot to a decliner. What the hell good would I be to anyone if I was not well enough to wield my weapons?”

  Elizabeth raised a brow. “What you consider well enough and what Alys and I consider well enough will be sufficiently different to keep her and Raymond silent for some weeks.”

  In the antechamber the tray Martin was carrying began to tremble in his hands. He was an old man and had never been strong. Normally Raymond or Alys would have brought the tray, but they were both out. Now, of course, Martin saw that decision as Divine intervention. It would have been beyond measure horrible if anyone else had seen the master and Lady Elizabeth kissing. It was not the kind of kiss that could be explained away. They were clearly lovers. Martin had recoiled instinctively from the sight. It was a sin, a dreadful sin. Lust was one of the seven deadly sins. But, as he stood rooted with shock, he could not help hearing what they were saying. There was no lust in their voices or words. There was a tender love for each other, and for Alys, and even for Raymond. Could such love be a sin?

  Martin did not feel guilty about overhearing the conversation. There was no harm in his hearing. He might even be able to help. So, when the weight of the tray became too much for him, he coughed and shuffled forward as slowly and noisily as he could.

  “Oh, it is you!” William exclaimed with relief. “Elizabeth, take that tray from Martin before he drops it. Dear man, whatever made you carry that load?”

  Elizabeth had taken the tray and put it on a table. Now she tried to tuck her hair under her wimple.

  “Take it off and redo it,” William advised, laughing at her. “You have it all rucked up on a side, and you look like a drunken elf.”

  He spoke quite uninhibitedly, as if Martin were not there, and in a strange way that was true. Over the years, William had begun to think of Martin almost as a part of himself, an extra hand, pair of eyes, brain. It no more occurred to William that Martin would betray him than that his own right hand would suddenly seize a knife and cut his throat.

  In that sense, William was right. Martin would no more hurt him or Alys than their own bodies would. The old cripple had purpose and volition, however. He thought for himself and thought well. What made him responsive as an extra limb was love, and unconsciously, William fed that love continually. His eyes did not slide away from Martin’s deformed body and ugly face. He called him “dear man” and meant it.

  The careless exposure of his master’s darkest secret—his relationship with Elizabeth—was to Martin a greater and surer symbol of affection and trust. Martin was still aware that their love was a sin, but, naked now, the sin was no more revolting to him than his deformity was revolting to his master. Somewhere deep inside he wished there was a way to take that sin upon himself, but he knew it to be impossible. To love unwisely was a sin of the strong and beautiful.

  “Sit down, a minute, Martin,” William said, while Elizabeth spread a cloth over the covers to protect them from crumbs and spills and moved the tray to his knees. “Lady Elizabeth and I believe that there is a fondness between Lady Alys and Raymond. Is this your opinion also?”

  “Indeed, my lord, it is,” Martin confirmed, nodding his too large head. “I was greatly troubled in my mind over it, and wished to speak to you, not that either child has done a thing or said a word that could be blamed, but I feared their hurt from so unsuitable an affection. I was afraid to tell you also, while you were so weak. My lord, I must confess, I overheard what you said to Lady Elizabeth.”

  “How much?” William asked calmly.

  “That you did not oppose the marriage but for some reason do not wish to give permission at this time.”

  “You might as well hear the whole,” William said and explained the situation with regard to himself, Elizabeth, and Mauger, finishing, “I do not want the children to suffer, Martin. If there is any way for you to ease their minds without giving them the notion that they may act as a betrothed couple, you may do what you think wise for them.”

  “I understand,” Martin said, “but I do not think you need to worry
about their suffering. I know Raymond has already been much distressed, probably he wished to speak to you and feared, as I did, to worsen your health. I can take that need away by warning him that, he must on no account confess his own sins before you can bear arms, just as my lady said. This will ease his conscience, and he will cast off all worry for a time. And if he is happy, my lord, Lady Alys will be happy.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was not long before William had proof that his advisers had judged correctly. Alys and Raymond came home for dinner, and Alys, trembling with renewed terror, crept to her father’s door. She heard an oath, followed by a hearty burst of laughter and flew through the antechamber to the bedroom doorway. There her relief and joy were confirmed. Her father and Lady Elizabeth were playing chess, and from the look of the board, he was being soundly beaten.

  “Papa,” she cried, “you are all right.”

  “Of course I am all right, you silly chit. Do you really expect me to be murdered by my own servants if you and Raymond are out of the keep for a few hours?”

  “No, but—but you said your head ached, and you looked so strange, and Elizabeth got all pale… I thought—I thought…”

  “I am so sorry, dearling,” William said contritely, realizing for the first time that he had frightened his daughter when he sent her away. “I had been wakened suddenly and I was—er—cross and—er—” He glanced at Elizabeth, but her face was wooden with suppressed laughter, which did not help in the least. “I was just stupid with sleep, Alys. I am fine. I will get out of bed tomorrow for a while.”

  William thought that the announcement would distract Alys, and it did, but it did not produce quite the enthusiasm he expected. Alys said she was glad, but there was a shade of reserve in her voice that William did not think had anything to do with fear that he was not well enough to get up. Hastily, to forestall a confession he did not want to hear, he asked what she had seen on the demesne.