Chapter 30

Over the next few days, I became used to falling asleep next to Guy and waking up to see him first thing in the morning. He was so beautiful as he slept that I often wished I could carve out a statue of him in marble. His face relaxed and the lines of care and woe disappeared. Charmingly, he snored, but only lightly, so that I found myself gently elbowing him to turn over. It was hard to keep my eyes off of his body, as he frustratingly insisted on sleeping in the nude. Sometimes when he was deeply asleep, my hands had their way with him, touching the various parts of him that I had been tentative of before, always remembering I could jump back onto my side of the bed (and my sword). Sometimes I heard him moan in his sleep as I ran my fingers over his manhood, his buttocks, his slender hips, and felt a stab of guilty pleasure.

In the mornings, he nearly always greeted me with a kiss and a long, full body embrace before he got up to wash and dress. Guy continued locking me in and threatened to remove anything from the room that could be used as a means of escape, so I acquiesced for now, feeling that the locking in was for another reason he was not sharing with me. Thornton would then bring my breakfast, which I now ate heartily. I swore to Guy that the two of them were trying to make me into a prize heifer with the way they fed me, but I could feel my body regaining strength. I continued my sword aided walks across the room every day, and each day felt a bit stronger. Soon I wouldn't need it at all for support, but the cool touch of the metal was a calming, powerful influence. In the evenings were Father's visits, and also eventually Charmaine and Elena's as well. Guy even allowed Elena to bring Simon along and into my room to cheer my spirits, much to Thornton's horror. After they left, the room was furry, messy and completely full of joy for me.

It was morning on the fourth day of this schedule, and Guy was kissing me awake, running his long fingers through my hair. He breathed deeply, groaned a little, then mumbled,

"This room still smells like that bloody Boxer dog."

I laughed, kissing his cheek in return. "I don't smell a thing. Perhaps it's you."

"Oh, plucky this morning, aren't we? You must be feeling better." Guy grinned, catching one my hands and holding it. He smiled then, looking down at me. "I know you love that big furry thing. Maybe I should get you a dog to keep you safe while I'm gone. If the room's going to smell of mongrel, it may as well be your mongrel."

I smiled sleepily. "As long as it's a big dog. I despise those little fluffy white things that court ladies carry. If you do get me a dog, be sure it's a proper dog."

"I understand. You like your dogs large and rough. Like me," Guy said sensually, returning his attention to my mouth. I kissed him in return, half asleep still, feeling his hands softly run over my breasts, down my hips, and then possessively touch my womanhood. This pulled me into a full alert state, my eyes shooting open, and my mouth slightly open. He looked down at me, now all seriousness. "May I cross the sword, my love?"

"I want you to, so much," I said. "I wish it could always be like this, waking to you in the morning, and seeing the your face the first thing before I sleep."

"Why can it not be?" Guy asked, holding my shoulders. "Nyssa…we need not follow the rules of polite society. You know that I love you. Say yes," he said seductively. "I want to make love to you so, Nyssa, it hurts my heart. Along with a few other body parts," he said, smiling.

"If I say yes, then what do I become to you?"

"My lover and my true wife," Guy said.

"In everything but name?" I replied. The romantic air about him snapped and his eyes stuttered away from mine. I pulled away, hurt. "I told you before, I will be no man's mistress," I said coldly.

"I could provide you with so much," Guy said in his most ravishing tone. "I know plenty of men in unhappy marriages who think of their mistresses as their true wives. I would see that you wanted for nothing; whatever you needed, or your family. I would set you up in a fine house as a lady with your own staff, where we could be together—"

"When?" I asked. "When would we be together? The day after Christ's Mass, the day after the New Year? You'd ask me to always to be second, and never first in your life? What of the children you will no doubt have? How would you explain me to them? And what of my reputation; how would I be seen in the village?"

Guy closed his eyes, pained. "Nyssa, I offer you the only situation possible. You would rather throw away all of us rather than save a part of us at least?"

"I would rather have none of you than only a little of you," I said, my voice breaking.

"A little of me has seemed good enough in these last few days," Guy said darkly. Angry, he rolled away from me and began dressing. "I'll be gone for the morning, and not back until later this afternoon. Don't wait for me to visit you." He pulled on his shirt and breeches and stormed out of the room, slamming the door and locking it.

Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. Why must everything be so difficult when two people loved one another, but neither would bend upon principle? We were well matched, I thought querulously. Well, damn him too then, if he wanted everything on his terms and cared nothing for my reputation. I flopped over onto my side and went back to sleep, fisting tears off of my face.

It was late afternoon when I awoke, and decided to make one of my assisted walks across the room in which I had barely used the sword. The sooner I walked, the sooner I could leave here. I took a close look at the bedclothes, and the window frame, which I then realized in annoyance had been bolted in from the outside. The bastard had probably done it three days ago when I first mentioned escaping. Damn him! I was moving back into bed for another nap when I heard Guy's thunderous voice raised in the hallway. "What are you doing here, and in my private rooms?"

"Oh, Guy, I have not been to see you here since I returned from visiting my family in France. I wanted to surprise you."

My stomach turned as I recognized the cajoling voice of Sabine. Guy sounded equally displeased.

"And your surprise includes rifling through my belongings?"

Oh God. I felt a cramp begin. She was still trying to find information for Hood, and I still hadn't told Guy of the affair.

"If you do indeed have a maîtresse, as you imply, I thought to find her letters there," Sabine said, a little too casually. "I wonder what hold she has on you. I thought perhaps I could learn how to enchant you in the same manner."

That lying bitch, I thought, furious. Guy seemed to have taken a bit of the bait though, and a tinge of guilt colored his deep voice. "Sabine, our contract is still valid. But you must know it is a political marriage, which is rocky now because of John's war with Philip."

"Ah, les politiques," Sabine said dismissively. They were now very close to my room and I was afraid to breathe too loudly, lest I be discovered. "You are to be my husband Guy, and yet you have not…quel est le mot…shagged me, for months."

"I never should have," Guy said thickly. "It is traditional to wait until the wedding, but you couldn't do that."

"You are fortunate I could wait until we were in England," Sabine said back, sounding like a lazy cat. "My father still thought me a virgin, which is why he made such a fine match with you. I knew I wanted you, and I got you. Why don't you want to fuck me anymore, Guy? Am I not beautiful?" I could almost see her preening, showing him her best angle as she said this.

"Sabine, I know that you have had multitudes of suitors tell you that you are beautiful, so one more will not make a difference."

"But I want you to say it," she purred. I felt her move closer to the door. "Guy, if that woman I saw is your mistress, give me a chance to compete with her, at least in the bedroom. I am very skilled and you haven't given me enough time to show you just how skilled I am. I know what a man wants." Her voice dropped. "Je veux que tu me baiser. Maintenant. Right here."

From Guy's stony silence, I could tell that she had demanded something lewd of him. I heard the handle of the door turn and panicked, but the lock clicked against the turn. Sabine swore in French. "Merde. Où est la clé? Why is this room locked?" she said sulkily.

"It is my mother's room, and has been locked for years, ever since she died," Guy said methodically. And then: "It is the last place I would use as a brothel."

"I am no whore!" Sabine snapped back. I snickered to myself, thinking what a lie that was. "I am merely asking you to act as a husband to me! We are to be married, Guy!"

"That fact may not be true for much longer," Guy snarled back. "John now has no reason to placate the French as he and Philip are at war. If I wanted, I could request him to break the contract, Sabine." His voice fell dangerously low. "Perhaps I already have."

My eyes widened at these words before Sabine started shrieking, "Batârd! You would not dare! My father is an important man in France—"

"Your father means nothing to John unless he is a Poitou nobleman with access to Burgundy," Guy returned coldly. "Anyone else is now dispensable, so this conversation is over, Sabine. Leave. And if I ever see you in my private rooms again, I promise that contract will be broken and I will send you back to France directly." His last words were a knife. "I will also be certain your father knows that You. Are. No. Maiden."

I jumped as Guy landed a punch into the wall, and heard him stalk down the hallway. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for Sabine, as I heard her sobbing against the door, mumbling to herself in French. If she had been a less selfish, spoilt child, I would have felt for her in that moment. Sadly, our lives were acutely similar in so many respects. Both of us were at the mercy of fathers, husbands, and lovers. Yet we had chosen such different paths. I sighed, then realized it had been a rather noisy sigh. Sabine's sobbing immediately stopped, and I heard her go still.

Nervous, I tried not to breathe for a moment, and had the distinct impression that she was listening for just that. I sat completely still so that I would not move the bedclothes or make any other noises. Had she heard me? I could not tell. Sweat rolled off of my forehead and down my back as I struggled not to breathe or make any other sound. There was a click in my throat as I swallowed, which felt as loud as a pot crashing to the floor. Sabine stayed still, then sighed and seemed to be wiping her face from the rustling movements I heard.

Just as I was sure she would never leave, I heard her ease off of the door in a swish of skirts, then softly move down the hallway. I breathed out, feeling a sense of relief. She was gone. Perhaps for good. And perhaps Guy was trying to rid himself of her; it had certainly seemed so. Would he really have tried to break the contract? It made sense politically but I knew that the politics were no longer the only reason. He had changed since my illness. My shoulders relaxed a bit and I wondered if our conversation this morning had spurred any of this into action. Would he come to see me now? As I had this thought, I heard footsteps speedily move down the hallway, followed by Thornton's voice calling out, his own not far behind. The lock clicked and the heavy oak door began to swing open. I sat up expectantly, and began to say, "Guy, about this morning—"

I stared in shock, speechless.

Sabine stood in the doorway, keys in her hand, her eyes raking over me like coals. Slowly, shock and recognition flooded them. Then rage, mad, violent rage such as I had never seen, before she began shrieking.

"Vous? Vous est la maîtresse? A bloody peasant girl has stolen my fiancé?"