Confessions

Chapter 7



It wasn’t long before the subtle interplay that had happened in the field began to have an impact on my relationship with Guy. He, I knew, tried his best to avoid me over the next week or so. His duty primarily was to the Sheriff, as mine was, and he was terrified of jeopardising his position in the castle. As a result, he was absent from the castle from dusk until dawn on ‘business’, and de Rainault did not question him, assuming that Guy was raiding or trying to track down outlaws.



It was unfortunate for Guy that my husband decided, one week later, to have an impromptu gathering of the local merchants of Nottingham, and so a feast, with dancing expected, was prepared for the end of that week. As usual, Robert left most of the preparations to his staff, and so Guy was confined to the castle to oversee the arrangements with me.



Poor Guy. He hated being indoors at the best of times, and he was far more at home in the countryside on horseback. Although he had been trained in the art of courtesy and polite company, he didn’t enjoy it. Added to that, I knew he still felt uncomfortable in my presence. In truth, I was barely more comfortable myself. I was absolutely convinced that I’d made a fool of myself, and, in that small act of touch, I had committed a huge indiscretion which could have an enormous impact on both of our lives. If I’d known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have concerned myself so deeply with one rogue touch.



The preparations for the feast were going well, and as the day dawned, there was little left to do but check on the cooks and keep the Great Hall in a presentable state. Guy was striding around the castle, barking orders to all and sundry and trying his best to avoid me. I spent most of my time placating upset staff after he’d finished with them.



Eventually, I could stand it no longer. I ensured that my gown was laid out for the evening, and then I tracked Guy down. He was crossing the courtyard, and he looked as if he was heading for the stables.



“My Lord Gisburne!” I called, knowing full well that there were a lot of people around. “If I might have a word with you?”



Guy froze in his tracks, and I visibly saw him have to relax his shoulders and prepare himself to turn around and face me.



“Of course, my Lady de Rainault,” he said, turning finally. His features were carefully neutral, and I appreciated his self-control.



I walked towards him. As I approached, I thought frantically for an excuse. “My husband has asked me to choose some wine from the castle cellars for the banquet, and I am unsure which vintage to choose. Would you be so kind as to help me choose a case that he would approve of?” I had no faith that this line of request would work. Sure enough, it didn’t.



“My Lady, I am certain that whatever you choose will be satisfactory,” Guy replied, looking a little uncomfortable. “If you will excuse, me, I must attend to some preparations of my own for tonight.” He bowed low, and walked away.



Damn him! He’d evaded me skilfully and effectively, and I was still in turmoil. I swear by my immortal soul that, even at that point, my intentions were honourable. I only ever intended to apologise for my indiscretion and clear the air, but Guy was obviously not about to take the risk that I might intend otherwise.



I wandered back to the castle and began to prepare for the approaching evening. The guests would begin to arrive soon, and I needed to be able to play my part. Reaching my chamber, I bathed and, with the help of my maid, I dressed. There was nothing else I could do with regard to Guy.



The evening passed amicably enough. I was beginning to settle into my role as hostess, and my husband was far too preoccupied with his guests to worry too much about me. As the feast was finished and the hall was prepared for dancing, I caught sight of Guy for the first time all evening. He’d excused himself from the feasting by returning late from a ride, but de Rainault had obviously requested his presence for the latter part of the evening, as he was brooding in a corner of the room. He looked as though the last thing he wanted to do was dance, but I saw my husband stride purposefully towards him and bark an instruction. Sulkily, he turned to one of the daughters of the grain merchant, a pretty blonde girl of about my age, and asked her to dance as the music started.



She was obviously both nervous and excited to be asked to dance by such a partner, and she nodded a little too enthusiastically for my liking. My husband, sensing perhaps that it was custom for him to dance with his own wife, crossed to me and took my hand formally.



“My Lady de Rainault, would you care to dance?” He asked, all seriousness.



“Of course, my Lord,” I replied.



It was a courtly affair, two steps forward, two back, women to cross and change partners. I couldn’t help it; my eyes followed Guy around the room. He was as good a dancer as he was a rider, although he obviously didn’t enjoy it so much. His young blonde companion whispered something she patently thought to be amusing as she crossed in front of him, and I saw him grimace in an attempt to smile politely. However, he must have sensed me watching him, as, the next moment, he made sure I saw that he brushed a hand over the exposed back of his dancing partner, in a well judged but formal expression of presumed intimacy. I felt my stomach turn.



“Are you well, my dear?” My husband asked me as I crossed him. “You seem to have gone rather pale.”



“I’m fine, thank you, Robert,” I replied, trying to remember myself. Jealousy was totally irrational, I knew. Guy wasn’t mine; he showed no desire to be mine, and I was married to his master. I needed to recover myself, and quickly.



I crossed to change partners, and in a couple more sequences, I ended up next to Guy. He glanced down at me, a mixture of amusement and contempt in his eyes. I was too aware of his presence to let his look go unnoticed.



“Something amuses you, Gisburne?” I asked, deliberately using his second name.



“No, my Lady,” he replied, trying to make his voice sound neutral. He moved as close to me as custom would allow. I could hear his breathing, and feel the warmth of his body close to mine. Once more, his proximity distracted me, and I lost my step.



“Be careful, my Lady,” Guy replied softly. “This is a complex dance where it is dangerous to lose your footing.” He glanced down at me and gave a small smile.



“I am aware of that, Guy,” I murmured, half angrily. “But it holds no fear for me.”



“Is that so?” He smirked. “Then I shall leave you to your dancing.” Our brief partnership was over and we moved on to the next dancers. I was more confused than ever.



So it continued through the night. Guy was evading me, and I grew more and more desperate to speak with him. Eventually, I could stand it no longer. I turned to my husband, who was engaged in conversation with the local linen merchant, and I took my leave.



“Robert, please excuse me-I am feeling a little faint and I would like to take the air on the battlements.” It was a flimsy excuse, but it served me well.



Robert looked down at me and gave a small, irritated smile. “Very well, my dear, but be sure you don’t catch a chill.”



“I’ll be sure,” I said. I needed some time alone.



As I mounted the steps to the upper regions of the castle, above the Great Hall, I saw a sight that made me stumble. In a dark recess, just out of sight of the hall but in the eye line of anyone who chanced to go up the steps a tall, blond knight was bending over a petite sixteen-year-old maiden, snatching kisses as she gabbled pointlessly. The stab of jealousy nearly doubled me over, and I hurried up the stairs and further up to the battlements, now needing the fresh air more than ever.



The late August breeze gave me little relief when I ascended to the roof of the castle. I felt alternately hot and cold, angry and frustrated, and that was when I knew that I could no longer deny it to myself. I had feelings for Guy of Gisburne.



This couldn’t be happening. If I was to act on those feelings, I would risk not just my life but Guy’s and the recriminations would affect all who dwelled in Nottingham Castle. However, I was still young, and foolish, and some part of me somewhere remembered what it was to fall in love. I leaned over the lowest part of the battlement wall, and for a moment, I wished that the wind would take me over and send my body crashing to the ground. Anything was preferable to the anguish I felt.



“Have a care, my Lady de Rainault,” a deep, rather husky voice said behind me. I jumped.



“Gisburne! What are you doing here?” I asked him, turning to face him.



“The Sheriff asked me to check that you were feeling well,” he replied. “He was concerned that you should be out here alone, when the breeze is rising.”



“Weren’t you a little too preoccupied to run errands for my husband?” I shot back, my jealousy evident in my tone.



“A mere distraction,” Guy said, matter-of-factly. “After all, we cannot arouse suspicion.”



“Suspicion of what?” I exclaimed. “As if there is anything to worry my husband with!”



Guy looked uncomfortable. “My Lady, I sensed that you wished to discuss something with me. Was I wrong?”



I sighed, and dropped the formalities. “No, Guy,” I said quietly. “You were not wrong.” Stepping back away from the battlements, I joined him in the slight shadowy recess adjacent to the stairs.



“I know you have been excusing yourself from my presence since that day with the horses, and I wanted to clear the air.” His company was again distracting me, and I struggled to keep a clear head about what I had intended to say to him.



“Really?” Guy looked smug, but an instinct told me this was a deception and that really, he was nothing of the kind.



“Yes, you see I…that is…when I touched you…” I was fighting to get the words out in any coherent form.



“Yes, you touched me…” Guy murmured, still a little smug. “Remind me, just how did you touch me?” He drew a little closer to me.



“Wh…when Fury pushed me closer to you…” I stammered.



“Ah yes, damned horse always gets me into trouble,” Guy grinned for a moment. “What of it?”



I was determined that I should finish what I’d started. “When I…touched you…it was…it was…”



Very gently, Guy took my hand and touched it to his chest, in exactly the same spot that I had touched him before.



“It was what?” He whispered, all trace of smugness gone from his face and his voice.



I could feel his heart beating under my hand, and I knew that mine was about to explode with fear and desire.



“It was…a…” And that was where words failed me. Slowly, tenderly, Guy bowed his head and brushed his lips over mine. He kissed in a way that was totally contradictory to his brash nature, and I felt my knees buckle as he took me in his arms. I was utterly helpless, and I moved closer to him, running my hands through his hair and needing to feel every inch of him against me. I knew I was trembling, and as he deepened the kiss I felt light headed with relief and desire.



Guy pulled me even closer to him, and his warm, long fingered hands ran up and down my back, caressing my neck and tangling in my hair. For an infinite, passionate moment, we both forgot that I was the wife of the Sheriff and he was his steward; we were simply two people who were caught in a passion that had been building for what felt like an eternity. It was exquisite, sensual, and utterly forbidden.



We eventually broke apart and I was once more able to draw breath. I looked at the man who had kissed me. His face was flushed, as I assumed mine was, and his eyes were two deep pools of darkness. Looking at his full, bruised lips, still slightly parted, I longed to kiss him once again, but a small voice in the back of my mind suggested that this was an unwise course of action. We had risked enough already.



Struggling to regain my composure, I moved away from Guy, who still had his hands clasped around my waist. He, too, stepped back for a moment, watching me.



“So,” I asked him shakily.



“My Lady?” He replied, the slightest tremor in his voice.



“Tell me,” I said, running a hand through my own hair, trying to tame it a little. “How am I feeling?”