Page 19 of The Conqueror’s Lady (The Knights of Brittany #2)

F ayth was released from her chambers later that day only because the bishop wished to examine the manor’s rolls of tenants, villeins, supplies and goods and no one else could explain them to him. Not certain of his aims or his temperament, she spent the first hours just answering his questions about the lands, the crops, the woodlands, the river, the mill and the peasants who lived and worked for Taerford.

Giles walked through several times as the bishop questioned her there in the hall, but he didn’t look in her direction and didn’t stop. When it grew dark and it was time for their meal, she asked to be excused to her chambers, for she could not bear to see her husband so and know she was the cause. Worse, with a word she could alleviate his pain, but that word would destroy her lifelong friend, as well as her soul.

She sought her bed, their empty bed, earlier than her usual custom that night. Her litany of prayers offered no comfort and no hope to her and she gave up trying to repeat them. Climbing into the bed, she reached over to where Giles should be and rubbed the pillows as she fell asleep.

She did not remember what woke her from her sleep, but a candle sat on her table throwing shadows around the room and she leaned up to see what stirred there. The sound of his breath was the first thing she noticed and then she saw his figure outlined in shadows cast by the flickering light. How long he’d been there, she knew not, but he simply stood over her, watching her.

He’d done that before—when she was hurt during the attack on Taerford, he’d visited her in the night to see how she fared. Emma had told her of those times once she had recuperated from the injury. This was not that kind of visit, though, and as his breath grew ragged she could almost feel his anger pouring out over her.

He’d sworn never to take her in force or anger, but now she’d driven him to madness. The thought that she loved another so deeply that she would risk everything they had together tore his heart into pieces.

Ignoring her did not make it easier.

Confronting her had made it worse.

And drinking the bishop’s potent spirits, offered in brotherly compassion, made him want her even more intensely than before.

Now he stood over her, wanting her, needing her and hating her at the same time. If she’d remained asleep or pretended to sleep, he would have found the strength to leave her alone, but not Fayth.

Nay, when she found him staring at her in the night, she lifted the coverings and invited him to take her. He did not even take off his clothes, only loosened his belt and lowered his breeches and climbed in on top of her.

His anger moved him then, increasing his desire for her even as he reached out, took hold of her shift and tore it down the front, baring her breasts to him. Then using the edges of it, he drew her up and possessed her mouth, touching his lips to hers, entering with his tongue. He gave no quarter as he moved over her, nipping the skin on her neck and shoulder and sucking on it to soothe and to mark it, so she would remember his touch when she saw them.

She made no sound except the soft gasps of passion—damn her! She should not allow this, but she did. Every moment he pulled himself back under control, she touched him or stroked him or kissed him back, inciting both more anger and more lust within him. Fayth whispered gentle words as he plundered her body, making her whimper under his touch.

When he gave in anger, she accepted it with gentleness. When he spread her legs and joined with her, she opened to him, softening under him and allowing him everything he wanted. When he tried to ignore her pleasure and see only to his own, riding her as deeply and as hard as he could, her body tightened around him and she cried out her release even as she milked him of his seed.

He collapsed on her, empty and still angry. Giles wanted in that moment to beg her forgiveness for such an act, but he was unable to even think of the words he would need. As he pulled out of her body he saw the tracks of tears streaming down her face.

He could stand no more.

Climbing from the bed, he tied his breeches and tightened his belt as he walked to the door. He glanced back at her, alone in their bed, and realised she had taken his anger and refused to let him hurt her. His hand was on the latch of the door when she whispered to him.

‘I do not love Edmund,’ she said, taking in a ragged breath.

He knew what she would say next. She’d just shown him by allowing him his anger, but he did not want to hear the next words, yet prayed for them.

‘’Tis you I love, husband.’

He leaned his head against the frame of the door and closed his eyes. At another time, he would have sought out those words from her, even begged her to say them. But now?

‘Damn you, Fayth,’ he replied and he stormed out as angry as he’d stormed in.

Giles made his way back to the hall where Brice sat waiting for him. Another cup of the bishop’s spirits, brought with him for medicinal purposes, he’d claimed as he shared the brew with them, waited on the table. He lifted it to his mouth and drank it without pause.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.

She was praying for forgiveness as he took her.

Giles closed his eyes and pressed his palms against the pain.

‘Did you swive her?’ Brice asked.

‘Aye,’ he said, letting out a breath.

‘I take it that the act did not rid you of your anger,’ his friend observed.

If not for the matter-of-fact manner, he would have punched him for speaking of anything so personal. But then he, Brice and Soren had tupped their way into manhood together, so he was about the only person who could discuss something like this with him.

‘She begged forgiveness and told me she loves me.’

By Brice’s silence, he knew he was shocked, too. He poured them both another cup of the liquor and neither spoke as they drank it down.

‘What will you do next?’

‘After I beg her forgiveness?’ Brice nodded. ‘I know not, other than trying to come up with a plan to capture Edmund, get rid of Sir Eudes and Lord Huard and make my wife obey me in all matters.’

‘I would wager that the first of those are more attainable than the last one,’ Brice offered.

‘Just so. Come, friend. Let us seek our beds, for the morning will arrive quickly and there is much for us to do.’

Brice went off to sleep in the barn with the other soldiers and he went back up the stairs. Giles did not doubt that she would allow him back in their chambers and even in their bed, but until they spoke on matters personal, and about Taerford, he would not ask it of her.

For tonight, he slid down against the wall outside their chamber and slept there. When the servants began moving through the keep, bringing it to life, he opened the door and hoped she would forgive him.

It was morning, from the sound of it, so Fayth opened her eyes and stretched her muscles while still under the coverings. She ached as she moved and then she remembered why.

Giles.

Closing her eyes again, she remembered him coming like a storm to her bed, fury in his gaze and making love to her fiercely. Fayth understood it came from his pain and she could not cause him to hurt even more because of her, so she had simply allowed him to take her. She had feared for a moment, when he had torn her syrce open, but then she had known he was more angry at himself than he was at her.

The rest of it had been no more vigorous than their most passionate bout of bedplay.

She sighed, wondering if speaking of her love at a time of such anger had been a good thing. Too late now—she decided to dress and face the day. Fayth pushed the coverings back and sat up.

And found her husband watching her once more.

His face could have been carved out of stone, so grave and hard it was. But his eyes gave him away, for there was such pain and guilt there.

‘Can we speak now?’ he asked quietly.

Giles stood and handed her a new syrce and cyrtel , so she hastily pulled them on. She would worry about the rest when they finished.

‘First, I know you think you deserved what I did, but you did not. I promised you that I would never take you in anger and I broke my word when I did,’ he said. He glanced at her then and looked away. His expression filled with guilt. ‘Forgive me, Fayth,’ he said. ‘I can only give you my word again and pray I have the strength to keep it next time.’

‘Next time? What do you mean, Giles?’

She’d convinced herself in the darkest part of the night that he meant to rid himself of his troublesome wife either by annulling the marriage or by shutting her away. He certainly had cause to do either—even the duke’s bishop would support him, knowing of her deeds.

‘Although I have never been married before, I have seen many marriages, amongst nobles and amongst peasants. Some are happy and smooth, some are troubled and unhappy and some are a mixture of all of those. I suspect that ours will never be smooth, but I do believe we can find some happiness between us.’

‘I thought you would put me aside,’ she said, sharing her deepest fear.

‘I have thought of doing that. I asked for your trust and your obedience and you gave it, or so I thought. Now, it will take some work to begin to rebuild what has been lost between us.’

‘What must I do, Giles, to show you that I want this?’ She stopped then, knowing exactly what he would demand of her—he had already demanded it. ‘Must I betray Edmund to gain your trust?’

He walked over and pushed one shutter open, allowing the sunlight and some cool air in. Gazing out of the window for a minute and breathing in deeply, he shook his head.

‘If I demand that of you then I am no better than he. I want to believe that I am better than that. I’ve told you why I must stop him—it is up to you to trust me to handle it or to withhold the information and protect him.’ He pushed the second shutter and shook his head.

‘I will think on it, Giles,’ she offered.

‘There is not much time, Fayth. Soon the choices will be taken from me and others will see to it.’

He walked to the door then. ‘I will send Emma to you, but I wish you to stay here today. Eudes is still at the keep and I want you out of his path. If the bishop wishes to speak to you, I will summon you.’

She nodded, knowing he was trying to protect her. She felt as though she wanted to say something more, but dared not upset the tentative balance they’d somehow achieved.

He left, pulling the door closed, and she collapsed back on the bed. She’d expected far worse, but a glimmer of hope pushed into her heart then. He did not force her to betray her dearest friend.

No, instead he simply asked her to do it, putting the burden on her. Now she understood what he meant about how being forced to do something lessened the guilt involved.

It would have been easier if he’d forced her. Fayth did not know if she was strong enough to take that step on her own.

Whatever her doubts were, by the noon meal that day she faced the consequences—and they were of the most horrible kind imaginable.