Chapter 24

Once home, I read and reread the letter several times, branded its confusing message into my brain and then burnt it in our fire. It was odd and somehow a powerful drug to realize that state secrets lie in the ashes of our fireplace. Then I had hurriedly changed into a new dress, and wrapped the heavy brocade cloak around me. I groaned a bit as its weight settled on my shoulders. Did all ladies have to bear this uncomfortable burden? I thought. Then again, most of them did not have to saddle their own horses and run a household in the same manner that I did. Still aching from Will's nasty words, I led Lily out of her stall and mounted her, urging her into a fast walk, riding with my legs on one side as Guy had mentioned, though it felt deucedly uncomfortable and made my back ache. I supposed I would have to put up with a backache if I was to pass for a lady.

Lady.

Whore.

Slattern.

Fiancée.

Wife.

Foolish girl.

Somehow the months and years of hearing these words from all of the men in my life felt as if they were pressing down on my heart. Which of these was I? I wasn't sure that I knew myself anymore, or if I had ever fit into only one category, as my social class allowed for. Why could I not fit into or be anything that was expected of me? What was I really? A merchant's daughter? A highly paid spy for the Crown? A woman who gave her body to two different men? A warrior? A lover? I fisted them out of my eyes, but the tears fell and my vision blurred as I reined Lily onto the main road towards the Manor. She walked a bit uncertainly as I normally rode her with purpose and guidance, but I felt the sobs shake my shoulders. It had been so long since I had a moment to myself to have a good cry. I had to be strong for all the men in my life the rest of the time. It was only around Charmaine and any maternal figure that I could have sought comfort or shown my fear and uncertainty. I supposed that was why I was here with Lily now. She actually stopped walking at one point and turned her head to look at me with one dark brown eye. I stroked her mane gently as if to reassure her, when I was the one who needed reassurance. My tears wet her neck, and she gently lowered her head to crop grass for a moment, before I was able to breathe and regain some composure. Nudging her forward, I urged her towards Gisborne Manor, which was just around the next clearing. I saw the flicker of movement in one of the windows near the door as I rode closer. I stopped Lily near the gates of the door, slipped off of her delicately and tied her to one of the posts nearby. Taking another deep breath, and hoping I didn't look completely wretched, I knocked softly on the door.

To my surprise, it was Guy who opened the door, and not Thornton this time. His face was slightly flushed, and his deep blue eyes were bright, as if he was mildly excited. A rare and unusual smile played across his handsome face.

"Welcome again, my lady," he said, his voice deep and sensual.

I wanted to throw myself into his arms, hold onto him and never let go. Taking another breath, I forced a smile to my face instead and avoided looking him in the face as I ascended the steps to the Manor. I heard him close the door behind me and sighed in relief. Thornton was not in the room so I didn't need to try to hide myself…yet, at least.

"May I take your cloak?" I heard Guy ask politely from behind me. His hand lightly touched my shoulder, and I could sense the reverberation of his chest as he spoke. I nodded, and felt his hands surround my neck, skillfully unhook the clasp there and pull the cloak from my shoulders to hang nearby. The action of his powerful arms nearly embracing me with this movement almost sent me into another crying fit, but I again forced myself to keep my emotions in check. It was harder each time.

As Guy came back to stand in front of me, I noticed he was dressed in a more colorful fashion than his usual black. Gold threads flashed in the dark ruby linen shirt he wore, which opened up nicely to reveal a bit of his broad chest. He wore his customary leather breeches and boots and his sword hung in its usual place at his side. I looked up at him hungrily, now unable to hide my deep emotions. Whatever else he was, Guy of Gisborne was every inch a man. At this moment, I yearned for a man's powerful protection and care.

As I looked up at him, his expression changed from one of interest to concern. "Nyssa," he said, gently reaching out to touch my face. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, my voice breaking. I turned away, my back to him so that he could not touch me or scrutinize me with that disquieting stare. I couldn't let him see me like this, not him. "Nothing. I'm just…tired. And hungry, that's all."

To my surprise, his strong arms encircled me from behind, enfolding me to his chest where I felt my head touch his chin. Without meaning to, my hands involuntarily went to clasp his, which were around my waist.

"I don't believe you," he rumbled softly in my ear. When I heard that my floodgate of tears erupted, and I began to weep. He read me with an annoying accuracy and for once I was glad. Sobs wracked my body and I felt my face and eyes grow hot with them. Guy's arms tightened around me in comfort and I heard him make a small sound of reassurance close to my ear. "Shh, it's all right. You're safe here with me, my beautiful, brave lady."

I couldn't stop it. I kept crying, and eventually turned myself around so that I could bury my face in his wide chest. He continued to hold me, comforting me like a small child, stroking my hair and back in long, soft motions, his body pressed into mine, holding me with all of himself. As I continued to sob, however, my merchant's mind never stopped ticking away.

"Uhgnnwlllllroooon," I said into his chest.

"What's that?" he said, pulling me back from him just slightly, then giving me a small, interested smile. "Was that English, my lady?"

"I will ruin your shirt and its material is far too fine for that," I choked, hiccupping. "Wait, did you make a jest?"

Guy then allowed himself a longer, more sensual smile, and let out a short laugh. "Nyssa, you can make my shirt into a dishrag a thousand times over if it means I could comfort you." His eyes were warm, sincere, and he cupped my cheek in one of his big hands. "Do you know that I have never seen you cry before?"

I sniffed, realizing it was true. I had been close a few times, a few tears shed, but never had let it out like this. I must have blinked and looked at him confusedly when he said this, because he nodded at me and said. " 'Tis true, my lady. You're as brave and strong as a lioness. She hunts fearlessly, protects the young, and has no time to feel emotions for herself. But in her power, even a lioness can forget that she has a mate." He looked at me, his blue eyes shining as he ran his finger through my hair.

I looked back at him, trying to salvage some of my absent pluck. "You forget, Sir Guy, that like you, a lion has many mates, many females in his pride. A harem, if you will," I said directly, challenging him.

"Ah, but you forget, lady, that I am no lion. My crest is the wolf and a wolf mates for life." His gaze met mine evenly and without fear. I felt my stomach become watery. Did he mean what he seemed to be saying? I searched his unreadable face, but found no answer, so I looked away. Unsatisfied with my response, or lack of one, Guy cocked his head to one side as he asked, "Does the lioness mate for life, then?"

"I should think that a wolf would more happily pair with another wolf than with a lioness," I parried, glancing back at him casually. "Nature would demand it."

"Nature is fickle," Guy responded, his gaze locked with mine. "How do you suppose Gwynna, your mule, came to be, if each only went with their prescribed mate?"

"Oh, you devil, " I said. "Using my own mount against me." It was a good response and even I had to admit it, but I was enjoying the game too much to let him win. I thought a moment, then said, "But there is a flaw in your logic, Sir Guy, if you are making comparisons to gentlemen and ladies. Gwynna, a product of an unnatural union, is deemed no proper mount for a lady of social standing. She is only appropriate for someone…like me."

"And who told you that?" Guy said, moving a step closer to me.

"A little bird, a screeching French pheasant," I answered, "impressed with her own plumage. Perhaps you remember; you were there."

"Then you have completed my argument," Guy said, advancing on me one more step. My back was against the wall. "Also by nature's law, a common, squawking game bird is no proper mate for a wolf. Wolves don't mate with prey animals." Guy said imperturbably. His arm trapped me deliciously where I was as I looked up at him. He had raised the stakes but I would not be taken in.

"Oh, but you're mistaken, I said caustically. "Apparently they mate with their prey, then once tired of it, decide to eat it. More like a spider than a wolf, don't you think?" The last jab was unnecessarily harsh, but I could not stop it.

A cold expression crossed Guy's face. "Well played." Despite the anger in his eyes, I felt his body press against mine, the weight of his legs moving to spread mine where I stood, his face ever closer. "Perhaps you're right. Wolves are always hungry." His face lowered, Guy's long nose grazed my jawline, his voice at my ear. "Perhaps I should simply eat, right here, right now." I felt his manhood jut against me as he pressed me further into the wall, and I gasped a little. My mind was racing as I remembered him unclothed and magnificent, offering himself to me at the lily grove. The memory made my head spin and my feet unsteady as I felt his hard member throb shamelessly. Guy's fingers trailed along my arm, down my shoulder, up my neck and then down the side of my breast. My breath became ragged as he touched me, and the place between my legs was hot with desire. I felt him bend one long leg as he stooped over me a little, and then his lips scalded my neck. "Are you hungry as well, little lioness?"

"Yessss," I felt myself moan, pulling his head closer to me, my hands tangling in his long hair. I wanted him with such urgency. The layers of him, gentleman, rake, comforter and seducer, were gorgeous. His hand slid down to the place where he pressed himself against me, and moved to feel my womanhood through the thin, damp wool of my dress. I gasped again, my legs trembling.

"I don't think you've been properly fed in a long time," Guy said, his eyes half closed, his hand stroking me up and down in a rhythmic motion. My nipples stiffened as he kept looking at me, waves of pleasure beginning to ripple through my lower body. His other hand cupped my face and pulled my mouth to his as he kissed me, his tongue questing, daring. I sighed, shaking, moving my hips to meet his hand, which stroked with unmatched surety and masterfulness. I was squirming and trying to pull him closer, all of him, when he broke off the kiss and grabbed me lightly by my hair.

"Nor," he said in a low voice, "have I eaten well for quite some time."

To my shock, his hand disappeared from my womanhood. I groaned in frustration, and he gracefully went down on one knee. With a wicked glance upwards, he began to lift my dress, fanning it so that it would soon cover his head. I surrendered, smiling as I remembered the first time he had done this, saying he would not take me fully unless we were…

On the brink of allowing him to pleasure me, my whole body stiffened. Married.

He was to be married. And not to me.

I pulled my dress and myself away from him abruptly. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl! I cursed myself. My legs snapped shut and I went down, rolling away from him, and scurried across towards the entrance to the doorway. Guy, seeing my intention, tackled me and grabbed my arm. "No, you don't," he said smoothly, restraining me as if I were a small, wiggling cat. I slashed out at him, trying to get away. "Let me go, you near- married bastard!" I cried furiously. Rolling his eyes and sighing in irritation, Guy grappled, still trying to hold onto me as I fought my way towards the door. I clubbed him on the side of the head and saw an annoyed look cross his face. Despite myself, I felt hysterical giggles claw their way out of the throat. "Damn you, Gisborne! You'll be the death of me!"

"Or you of me," he growled back, making a grab for my flailing arm. "Why are we always on the verge of killing each other or making passionate love but never manage to do either?"

"Marry that bitch and I promise I'll kill you," I said, unable to stop myself from laughing. The whole situation was so ridiculous, and had been for so long that I was unable to contain myself. I laughed until I felt more tears squirt out from my eyes, until I was red in the face and had no breath left. Lightheaded, I could not stop myself, and noticed Guy now sitting up, loosely holding my arm, and looking concerned. For some reason this doubled my amusement and new gales of laughter erupted.

"Nyssa, stop," Guy said, now really sounding a bit alarmed. "You need to sit up and breathe properly." He helped me do this, his hand on my back. A stream of giggles hitched its way out of my throat but my breathing began to steady, and the room felt more normal, if less manic. I breathed out, trying to wipe the last of my tears away. "I'm better now. But I do think you are slowly driving me mad, Gisborne. I'll be in Bedlam soon, thanks to these assignments."

"You agreed to it," Guy reminded me, me a half smirk on his face.

"Oh, I know. Help me up," I demanded, holding my arms to him as I saw him rise. He pulled me up, smirking. "But you haven't answered my question, Nyssa. Does the lioness mate for life as a wolf does?"

I breathed out and moved my ear away from his seductive voice. "No more riddles, Sir Guy," I said smoothly. "We're here to solve them, not create more."

"Then I declare in this senseless battle of ours, yet another draw," Guy said, grinning deeply as he regarded me, firelight shadowing part of his face, his arm still holding me in place. I didn't want him to stop holding me or looking at me. He was so ridiculously handsome that for a moment, I completely forgot why I had come, until he asked, slightly amused,

"What's the new riddle?"

"Oh yes." Common sense snapped back onto my expression, and I closed my eyes a moment before reciting the new message:

"The battle wages on, sword sharpened upon whetstone,

The cries and wails of the dying blessed

Fall upon deaf ears like rain upon a fortress

Around the walls of the mind-wretched fortress

Two ladies fought over a gemstone

Each saying that they were the more by God blessed

And should therefore possess the blessed

Jewel, one desiring it for the heiress to a fortress,

The other claiming that she herself was mistress of the stone.

Thus a simple stone, being so blessed, shall bring down friendship as the weight of a fortress."

As I opened my eyes, Guy was staring past me, then at me, an eyebrow raised. "Interesting," he said slowly. "I know the poetic form; it appears to be a tritina, and from what I can tell, an original composition." He moved away from me to sit at the table, his eyes focused as he considered what the poem meant. He looked at me and gestured that I should join him. I walked over and sank into one of the chairs across form him at the table, feeling completely spent. The chair was close to the fire, and my eyes and limbs felt heavy from its warmth. Remarkable how one could tire oneself out simply by having a crying fit and then a near orgiastic encounter with a Black Knight…

That was my last thought before I sank into an exhausted oblivion of sleep.