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  “I would that it always be so, my lady wife,” he said as he kissed her and rolled to the edge of the bed. “Only love between us. Nay forget.”

  “I never shall.” And she meant it. After their night of lovemaking, how could he doubt her?

  Renaud rose from their bed and began to dress. His muscled lean body drew her attention even as she pulled the bed cover over her breasts. Their intimacy was still new.

  While donning his clothes, he told her that after they broke their fast, he wanted to see the castle with her. Though tired from their night of lovemaking, Serena would not turn away from an invitation to be with him for the morning, particularly when there were still doubts in his mind. Besides, she was eager to get a glimpse of what would be her new home, even though leaving the manor would be another step in leaving behind all that had gone before—her parents, her brother and the memories of the life they had shared together.

  Nearly everyone had left the hall by the time she and Renaud finished breaking their fast. They stepped into a cloud-filled morning.

  Renaud looked into the sky. “A good time to see the castle before the rain descends.”

  “While you were in Exeter, Sir Maurin made the castle his favorite theme at the evening meals. I have heard much about it, but not yet viewed the interior.”

  “Then come my lady.” He held out his hand. “There are stairs we can ascend to view all.” She placed her hand in his and together they walked over the new wooden bridge that spanned the moat and up the wooden stairs that led to the top of the motte.

  Serena had not realized just how high the mountain of dirt rose above the yard until she stood at its summit. She estimated it was about fifteen feet to the ground below, and from where she stood, the new keep rose another thirty feet into the sky. It was a large square structure with a protrusion on one side. All was surrounded by a wooden palisade like the one below that circled the yard, stable and outbuildings, now a part of the bailey.

  They walked into the keep, where servants had lighted the torches set into the walls. On the ground level there was a hall with a large hearth and stairs at the rear leading up to the solar and sleeping chambers. It was larger than the old hall. The smell of new wood surrounded them, as she realized the large space was clean, but as yet unfurnished.

  On the second level, the bedchamber for the lord was larger than that of the manor and connected to a solar, a place for her husband to work and meet with small groups of his men. There were other bedchambers as well. Above that, a third level contained a viewing platform with vertical slits set into the wood on each side that provided a grand view of the countryside—and a safe place from which to shoot arrows at an enemy. It was there they viewed the knights sparring just beyond the palisade.

  “How far we can see!” she declared. “Much farther than from the manor’s roof walk.” In her imagination, she could see the west manor miles away.

  “Yea, ’tis a better vantage point,” he said with a look of satisfaction.

  Impressed with the donjon and aware of the statement it signified to all who viewed it, her thoughts drifted back to the Norman bastard who would be king. She could not help but ask, “Why did your Norman duke think to conquer England?”

  “If you knew William, you would not need to ask,” he said smiling. Then in a serious tone, “He believed he had been promised the throne by your King Edward for one thing. And William, unlike Harold Godwinson, had a blood tie to the throne, so he did not think it above him. Too, in Normandy, William was but a duke; in England he is an anointed king.”

  “But to terrorize the people into submitting? Was his slaughter in the south necessary?”

  His frown made her wonder if she had reminded him of his own role in that slaughter.

  “Whatever you say about William’s methods, Serena, they have been successful. He would not give up a prize like England, one he had come to think of as his by right. I admit he can sometimes be cruel, but have no doubt, he means to rule England.”

  “His castles are meant to intimidate,” she muttered to herself. But it was quiet where they stood for there were few hammers pounding at the moment, and she realized he had heard her.

  He did not respond at first, but stared into the distance as if pondering. Then with a sigh, he let out his breath. “Yea, they are. William does not want the English to forget he is now their sovereign—that he is here to stay. He builds more of them where the people doubt his intent.”

  The conversation had soured Serena on the tour of the castle as it reminded her the structure dominating all of Talisand was yet another symbol of her country’s invasion.

  As they returned to the ground floor of the wooden tower, she saw a door left open to what appeared to be a chapel and remembered the room that jutted out from the keep she had seen from the outside. “Your new church?”

  “A chapel for the family and our guests,” he said. Then taking her hand and kissing her fingers, he led her into the chapel, adding, “It will be here that our sons will be christened.”

  She did not speak her thought that it was constructed as penance for the lives he had taken. Had her father’s life been one of those? Somehow she had to find a way to let such questions go if she was to give herself completely to this marriage, and to him. Such things were now in the past.

  “It is good to have a chapel as a part of the keep,” she said. “There will be times a place of prayer will be needed.”

  “Aye, I have always found it so.”

  They left the keep and stood at the edge of the motte looking into the yard. Rhodri was walking through the gate with the archers, headed in the direction of a clearing in the woods where Serena knew they oft practiced.

  “Why is the bard still here?” Renaud asked. “I thought he wandered from place to place?”

  “It is true that Rhodri comes and goes as he wills and oft travels far. In that he is much like the wind. We are fortunate he has lingered so long among us.” The look in Renaud’s eyes told her he was displeased. “Would you have me bid him go?”

  “He watches you with interest,” he said with a scowl. “I like it not.”

  He was jealous of the Welshman? Mayhap he cared more than she had thought. “You need have no worry for Rhodri, my lord. He was trusted by my father and is much loved by Steinar. The bard merely protects me in their absence.”

  “Even from your husband?”

  “Of course not! Why would you ask such a thing?” She turned to look at his face. His eyes that had been the color of rain only moments before had hardened to the steel of his sword as they narrowed on the bard.

  Without answering her question, he asked, “Will you be taking up your archery again now that you are no longer acting the servant?”

  So he would remind her she had once lived in disguise. It made her restless to think that was still between them. Would it ever be so? “I trust you only tease me my lord, and you are not still angry for my early deception. You know why I did it.”

  “Aye, but I liked it not.”

  She could do nothing to change the past, only try and build a future.

  “Well, to answer your question, I do sometimes practice with Rhodri, but not oft.”

  “I would see your skill on display, Serena. Mayhap another shooting match is in order. Now that I think of it, tell me, did you miss that first arrow you aimed at Sir Hugue?”

  “Nay.”

  “You were aiming for—”

  “His arm, aye. Sir Geoffroi just assumed I missed the rogue’s heart. That would have been my next shot.”

  “I still remember those rabbits you felled in the forest. Yea, we must have another match at Talisand.”

  Serena’s cheeks burned at the memory of what occurred that morning on the bank of the stream. “If it would bring you pleasure, my lord.”

  * * *

  A few days later, Renaud persuaded Serena to leave Cassie for the time it would take them to visit the west manor where Geoff had ridden earlier that mornin
g to see his lady love, Eawyn, who had offered to prepare a noon repast for them. It would be his first foray to one of the three distant manor houses that were a part of his lands, and this one held a special interest for him since he believed that one day it would be the home of his friend.

  They crossed a narrow bend in the river and rode over the rolling hills of the countryside. Renaud was struck by the peaceful nature of the land bathed in summer’s colors of green and gold. The sounds of birds chirping in the trees and the occasional bleating of a sheep or the bark of a dog were far different than the harsh sounds of battle or the clamor of London.

  For the foreseeable future, he would have to straddle two worlds, heeding his sire’s call to battle while becoming a man of the land. He hoped he could do well by both.

  He was grateful to Serena for helping him understand the needs of the people. Since their wedding, she had become the dutiful chatelaine, working with the steward Hunstan to see that all was as it should be. Her hands were never idle. Though he’d not seen her embroidering or working on a tapestry as one might expect of the lady of the manor, she worked tirelessly at other duties. She and Maggie made the decisions about what food was to be served and together they planned for adequate stores to be laid up for winter. They set about assuring that a supply of candles and mead was available for the cheerless months.

  He vaguely recalled his mother busy with similar tasks at their estate in Normandy, but since he had been made a squire at a young age and then a knight, he was rarely home and gave scant attention to his family’s lands tended so well by others. His life had been as a leader of men in battle. Now he must learn to be a different kind of leader, hoping for a day he could set aside his sword.

  The king’s messengers, and his own, had kept him informed. All was not quiet in the north. William harbored concern over the Welsh, who had supported Eadric the Wild, and were now leaning toward an alliance with the rebellious Earls Morcar and Edwin. Beneath its calm surface, Northumbria seethed with rebellion.

  The light filtering through the trees caught Serena’s flaxen hair, glistening like the sun. With each passing day, his ardor for his new English bride grew, and the resulting vulnerability he experienced worried him.

  Lovemaking consumed their nights as Serena grew ever more adventurous, which pleased him greatly. She was a willing bedmate and seemed content, even happy. Still, he wondered. Would she be loyal if he was forced to face the English in battle again? And if he were killed, would she mourn?

  “You are very quiet,” his lady wife teased from where she sat on her white palfrey. “Is all well?”

  Stirred from his musings, he answered, “Aye, for now. We will move into the castle next week. I trust that pleases you.” Seeing her smile, he reminded her, “Some rooms will be bare for a while ’til the needed furniture is finished, but still quite livable, I think. The carpenters are being kept busy. Between the old hall and the new, my men will be able to bring their pallets inside when winter comes, though I’d ask you to reserve a bedchamber for Maugris. His old bones would benefit from a soft cushion.

  “Aye, my lord. I had thought of that. He is well loved by all at Talisand, and I would see him comfortable. There is a chamber that looks out on the river I think he will like. At night the stars are reflected in the waters.”

  “You seem to know the wise one well,” he replied, pleased with her insight. “He always seeks a view of the heavens. That is why he sleeps outside while it’s warm enough to do so.”

  “What think you of keeping the lord’s chamber in the old manor for Sir Maurin?” she asked. “The other two chambers would serve for guests, at least until Sir Maurin marries and sires children.”

  Seeing the smile on her face, he realized she was thinking of her handmaiden.

  “I would be pleased to reward him,” he said. “You know Sir Maurin seeks the hand of Maggie’s daughter.”

  “I do. At least that is what is written on his face. When Cassie took the mercenary’s knife in her chest, Sir Maurin hovered over her like a beast protecting its wounded mate. Though she now recovers, he still is reluctant to leave her side.”

  “Yea, ’tis true. I fear the knight is besotted.” Renaud had no doubt Sir Maurin would be speaking with Angus before summer’s end.

  “Will you keep the old kitchen?” she asked.

  “Aye, I would think both kitchens will be needed. If she would have the position, your handmaiden could become housekeeper in the manor, at least until she marries Sir Maurin. Then another can be found to serve as cook. Maggie and Angus can move from their cottage into the castle. There’s a large bedchamber on the first floor near the kitchen for them. It will be warm in the winter.”

  “I believe they would like that. And Maggie would have her husband close.”

  “William will be sending me more knights and men to add to those already here. Angus and his workers will have much to do.”

  “More men? Why?” she questioned with furrowed brows.

  “Surely you must realize Serena, England is not yet at peace. Talisand’s castle is one of only a few this far north. It stands as an outpost against rebellion and to guard against the Scots for he trusts not King Malcolm. William would have a small garrison here for as long as it is needed.”

  “Oh,” she said with a small pout of her perfect lips. “I suppose a conqueror must have his soldiers, but I did not think of a garrison at Talisand.”

  “Some will have their families with them, but not many.”

  “It will change our home, my lord.”

  “Yea, for a while, but I will insist on discipline and adherence to my rules.”

  She pouted again and all he could think of was laying her back in the grass and making love to her. Reaching for her hand, he said, “When you look at me like that, Serena, it is difficult for me not to pull you from your horse and have my way with you in yon meadow.”

  Serena gazed at the swath of grass-covered land surrounded by wild flowers. “My lord! You would not!”

  He smiled a forewarning. “I cannot say what we might find ourselves doing on the return to Talisand when I am sated with food and ale, but for now you are safe as we are expected, and I would not have you arrive looking like you fell from your horse.”

  She laughed and he delighted to see it.

  Slowing his horse, and pulling her hand towards him, he turned it palm up and kissed the sensitive skin, making a silent vow to have her in the grass ere they arrived back at Talisand.

  “Renaud…” she whispered, her cheeks flushed. He released her hand, and she smiled. She enjoyed his attention, of that he was certain. “Forget your schemes and tell me of your family in Normandy. I have long wondered about your origins. Surely it was not a wolf’s den in the woods as some of your men suggest when they are full of wine.”

  “Nay, not so humble as that. I have two older brothers, Robert and Raoul, and a younger sister, Aveline. My father and mother still live, though one day our holdings will pass to Robert.”

  “And your family’s home?”

  “Saint Sauveur lies on a peninsula of farms jutting into the waters of the channel between England and Normandy. My father’s demesne is the largest. He owns much land.”

  “But not enough for his youngest son?”

  “Nay. Younger sons must earn their own lands and titles. I have always known my destiny lay with my sword. That is how I came to serve William. It is the same with Sir Geoffroi and the other knights.”

  “But can you be happy, Renaud, so far from home?”

  He was pleased she was using his given name, more often now as their intimacy in the bedchamber grew. “I am content with what William has given me, but sometimes I think of Normandy. I would like to see my family again.”

  “I cannot imagine being so far from home surrounded by strangers.”

  “Talisand is no longer a place of strangers for me, Serena. It is my home, this is my land, and you are my lady. But mayhap one day I will take you to Normandy to m
eet my family.” Seeing a look of worry cross her beautiful face, he added, “You would not find the land strange. It is as green as Talisand, just warmer and wetter. Would you like to travel there with me to meet them?”

  “I would like to have our children know their uncles and aunt, and their grandparents since I can offer them none,” she said sadly. “Steinar is the only uncle they shall ever know, yet he might not want to return to Talisand. Surely it would be difficult for him seeing his lands in the hands of another.”

  “As it is for you, wife?”

  “Aye, sometimes ’tis awkward, but at least I am still the Lady of Talisand.”

  Renaud did not doubt the truth of her words, nor the dismal future for any Englishman whose lands had been forfeited. If he were in her brother’s place, he would never return. But he was aware that she and Steinar were close and she would miss him. “There is truth in what you say.” His gaze shifted to the flaxen strands of her plaits falling beneath her head cloth. “Does he look like you?”

  “Aye, he does,” she said with a bashful look at her hands holding the reins. “Older, stronger and taller, but with the same hair and eyes, though he has a beard and it’s somewhat darker than his hair.”

  Their conversation was interrupted with their arrival at the manor house nestled amidst a copse of oak trees. It was difficult for Renaud to picture his favorite knight in such a place, but as he dismounted and helped Serena down from her horse, Geoff strode through the door with Eawyn close behind him, as if they were already a couple and this was their home.

  Renaud handed the reins to the waiting stable boy.

  “Greetings, my lord,” Geoff said, stepping aside to allow Eawyn to welcome them with a curtsey and a warm smile.

  “I am honored to have you here at the west manor, my lord, and my lady,” Eawyn said, her gaze moving from Renaud to Serena.

  Renaud had always liked the dark-haired woman with her easy manner and pleasing face. But no woman tempted him, save his own wife. Serena could be difficult at times, but he admired her courage, her devotion to her people and her sense of honor. She was everything he could have wanted.