If Love Dares Enough (24 page)

When they reached Antoine’s side, he proffered his hand and Ram placed Sybilla’s on top of it. Her hair and face were covered by a long gauzy veil, but the red highlights shone through. Sybilla looked at him directly and her mismatched eyes flashed. He hoped she had seen the love he bore her reflected in his eyes. Her hand was warm and moist. Although her elegant bearing bespoke confident assurance, he sensed she was nervous. For a brief moment her fingers squeezed his hand and heat rushed through his body. He smiled at her, hoping he didn’t look like the lovesick fool he felt. How often he had teased Ram about his feelings for Mabelle, but how hard it was to bear the prospect of unrequited love.

They faced the priest and the ritual began.

Sybilla’s agitated heart had calmed somewhat when she’d caught a glimpse of Denis sleeping peacefully in Oda’s arms. It was only thanks to the man she was about to marry that her son had any prospects for the future.

When her hand had been placed into Antoine’s she’d felt his warmth flood through her. Her whole body became heated whenever she was near him, and the heat pooled in her most intimate female places. At first she had thought she was ill, but knew now she was in love with Antoine de Montbryce. She would have to guard her heart. He was marrying her in the hope of saving the brother who stood at his side.

Though, when she looked into his eyes, was there more? Was it love she saw in those green depths? As a girl she had dreamed of being married to a handsome knight who was madly in love with her, and she with him. Could such a dream come true? It seemed unlikely after her experience with Denis de Sancerre. However, looking at Antoine and his brothers, all so alike in appearance, she had to admit the Montbryces were a handsome and noble family—a far cry from the Sancerres and her own family, the Taloches.

“
Milady
?” The priest’s whisper broke into her reverie. She realized she was supposed to be saying something. “Are you willing,
milady
?”

“I—am willing,” she replied, feeling Antoine squeeze her hand. He must have spoken his vow already—she’d been in such a daydream, imagining the possibilities—

She felt her face redden, and knew Antoine had turned to look at her. She swayed, clutching his hand more tightly. She looked at his face and saw the unspoken concern there. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. Suddenly she felt more confident about the future. Perhaps she and Antoine could have a successful marriage. They were certainly drawn to each other physically, of that she had no doubt, and he genuinely cared for Denis. Her heart lifted and when she looked back at Antoine she hoped her smile reflected her love.

Before she knew it, Antoine was lifting her veil and gathering her into his arms for the traditional kiss. They hadn’t kissed since the first time, a fortnight before. She closed her eyes. This time his kiss was chaste, and Sybilla felt inexplicably disappointed there had been no tongue thrust into her mouth.

The monks provided a modest celebratory meal. Though the portions were small, the quality of the food and wine was excellent. Sybilla felt both Ram and Hugh’s expressions of congratulation were genuine. Antoine was more than solicitous of her and made sure Oda and Denis and the wet nurse were all comfortable and well taken care of. Inevitably though, Devona and Hugh’s predicament overshadowed the occasion. After a while the three brothers withdrew for a private conference, and Sybilla could see the tension in their shoulders when they reappeared.

“What is it?” she asked Antoine as he came to sit beside her once more. She felt the heat of his thigh against hers. At one time she had been relieved her
condition
would preclude intimacy on her wedding night, but now she found she longed for Antoine to bed her.

Antoine grimaced. “I’m sorry, Sybilla. This is your wedding day, and you are such a beautiful bride. There should be no sadness on a day like this.”

Sybilla couldn’t recall anyone telling her she was beautiful before. She put her hand over his in reassurance. “I understand. Tell me.”

He exhaled and ran his hand over his hair. “There is still no word from Jubert. Hugh feels better now he knows Devona is no longer in the cells, but he’s distraught at what she has suffered. But the really bad news is that François de Giroux is one of the barons who will sit on the
curia
.”

“Giroux?”

“There is a long standing hatred between the Montbryces and the Giroux family, caused by a heinous act perpetrated long ago by Mabelle’s father. François won’t be favourably disposed to us.”

Sybilla closed her fingers over his hand, but could think of nothing to say. Her upbringing had been to trust none of these Norman nobles anyway. She was powerless in this enemy camp, only tolerated because she was now Antoine’s wife.

Antoine took both her hands in his. “Sybilla, I know we are asking much of you to testify against Renouf, but—”

Sybilla put her finger to his lips. “I know how much you love your brother, Antoine. I’m your wife and I will obey your wish for me to testify. You won’t have married me in vain.”

She felt him tense and saw the anger in his eyes as he stood abruptly. “That’s not the reason I married you, Sybilla. Come, I will deliver you safely to the
Abbaye aux Dames
. It’s not far. The nuns have prepared a chamber for you and the babe.”

She went with him, wishing she could spend the night with her husband. She didn’t care at that moment why he’d married her. She simply longed for him to hold her against his strong body.

Antoine saw them safely inside the convent and then left to return to the
Abbaye aux Hommes
where the three brothers planned to continue their discussions about the upcoming trial.

Once Sybilla was assured Denis was fed and put back to sleep she left him in Oda’s care and went to seek out the Abbess.

“Congratulations on your marriage,
milady
Montbryce,” the religious said in a tone which left no doubt about her feelings for Angevins.

“
Merci, ma mère
,” Sybilla responded, bowing slightly, thinking she liked the sound of her new name. “I’d like to speak to Lady Devona.”

The nun’s face remained expressionless. “She’s an adulteress who has been confined.”

“I don’t intend to try to free her,” Sybilla responded with some sarcasm. “I merely wish to greet my new sister-by-marriage.”

The nun arched her brows and made a deprecating sound, but she removed a key from her pocket. “Follow me.”

She led Sybilla through the cloisters into a different part of the convent and unlocked a small door, shoving Sybilla inside. She heard the key turn again when the door was shut behind her. It took a few moments to become accustomed to the darkness. A single candle struggled to cast light into the gloom. She gradually became aware of two women huddled together on the small pallet, one older, the other young.

“Devona?” she asked quietly.

Devona let go of her mother and came to her feet, looking curiously at her visitor. “You are Lady Sybilla,” she murmured hoarsely.

Sybilla nodded, feeling an urge to put her arms round this beleaguered young Saxon woman who had suffered much at the hands of the Normans. She felt a kindred spirit. She took hold of Devona’s trembling hands. “
Oui
, I’m Sybilla.”

Devona squeezed Sybilla’s hands. “I’m so happy for you, and Antoine. I’m sorry I wasn’t allowed to attend the ceremony. I hope you’ll be happy together. Antoine has risked a great deal for me and Hugh. Ram has been telling me about you during his visits. I thank you for agreeing to help us. I know it means danger for you.”

Sybilla snorted. “I’m protected as Antoine’s wife. That’s why he wed me, to ensure I would testify, that I’d be vouchsafed. I’m considered almost worthy to be a Norman now.”

She saw Devona eye her curiously and shake her head. “From what I know of Antoine, he would not marry a woman, unless—”

Sybilla felt her heart start to race. “Unless?”

“Do you love Antoine?”

Sybilla saw little point in lying to this perceptive woman. “With all my heart.”

Devona smiled and embraced her new friend. “Antoine is a man in a million, Sybilla. Treasure what you have found in him. He must have deep feelings for you to offer for your hand. Much as he loves Hugh, he wouldn’t betray a woman to save his brother. He’s a man of honour. He’s a Montbryce.”

Sybilla saw the older woman nod and wipe away a tear. “You are Lady Wilona?”

Wilona nodded again and struggled to her feet, choking with a deep rasping cough. She looked somewhat incongruous in a novice’s habit.

“I’m relieved you’re not alone here, Devona,” Sybilla said.

“I’m never alone, Sybilla. Hugh is with me always.”

A rap at the door indicated their interview must be terminated. The women embraced. Sybilla tapped back, the door was opened and she stepped out into the cold air of the corridor. The waiting nun escorted her to her own chamber in silence.

Sybilla walked over to where her son was sleeping, picked him up and cradled him to her breast, weeping silent tears. Hope and dread warred within her.

***

“You should be with your bride tonight,” Hugh chided Antoine. There was barely enough room for the three brothers in Hugh’s cell. They sat on the wooden stools, their legs bent, knees touching. They nursed the last of the ale brought from the festivities, knowing they would not be offered more.

Antoine shrugged. “It’s but a brief time since the birth of her son. I have to wait, to be patient.”

“Sybilla needs more from you than just a bedding,” Ram retorted. “You love the woman, but I’d wager you haven’t confessed that to her. Reminds me of another idiot I know. Why is it so hard for a man to tell a woman he loves her?”

Antoine’s mouth fell open. “You still haven’t told Mabelle?”

Ram looked sheepish. “She knows I love her,” he protested.

Hugh snorted. “Here we are, the brave and courageous Montbryce brothers, and we are such cowards when it comes to professing our love for a woman.”

Antoine took a swig of his ale, then wiped his hand across his mouth. “When you know the woman doesn’t love you in return—”

Hugh guffawed. “What are you talking about? Watching you and Sybilla today, I’d venture to say your wife burns for you.”

Antoine looked at him in surprise, his heart thudding, and noticed Ram was nodding. “What makes you say that?”

Hugh looked exasperated. “By all that’s holy! Here you are, Antoine de Montbryce, the great expert on women, and yet you can’t see love when it hits you in the face. You chided Ram at Hastings and you are guilty of the same idiocy you accused him of.”

Ram laughed. “Feels good not be on the receiving end this time.”

Hugh bristled. “You’re just as bad, Ram. Why haven’t you told Mabelle you love her?”

Ram looked at his feet. “Perhaps she doesn’t love me?”

Hugh jumped up and the flimsy stool fell backwards. “You are both the biggest idiots. Of course Mabelle loves you. It’s written all over her lovely face whenever she looks at you.”

Antoine righted the stool, thinking about what his brothers had said. Then another thought struck him. “But Sybilla loved her husband. I killed him.”

Hugh picked up his stool and held it over Antoine’s head. “I feel like hammering some sense into you with this.”

Antoine flinched. “What have I said now?”

Hugh rolled his eyes, lowered the stool and sat down. “How old is Sybilla?”

Antoine shrugged. “A score, give or take—”

“And Denis de Sancerre?”

“Maybe three score.” As soon as he uttered the words, Antoine recognized the truth. “An old man,” he whispered.

“
Exactement!
” Hugh gloated and Ram laughed.

Antoine scratched his head. “But she wept—she whispered in his ear—she—”

“What did you expect, Antoine? That she rush to tell you she didn’t love her husband as he lay dead at your feet? Sybilla is a proud woman, conscious of her honour above all. She’s a woman who has been brought up to hate Normans. Her own feelings must confuse her, but can you honestly see a young woman like Sybilla falling in love with an old man? More likely her father sold her to Sancerre.”

The three men were silent for long minutes before Ram spoke. “I cannot imagine, in the worst circumstances, setting fire to my own castle knowing it would doom Mabelle to die a horrible death. A man who would do that is not a man who loves his wife.”

Hugh winked at Antoine and elbowed Ram. “You know what this means, don’t you, brother?”

“
Non
, but I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Antoine replied.

“It means Sybilla has never known the touch of a man who loves her.”

Antoine hardened at the thought. He glanced up at Hugh.

“
Oui, mon frère
. I can see you are imagining it. Do you think she longs to be touched with love—” Hugh’s voice cracked, choked with emotion, “—as my Devona did.”

Another silence followed and Antoine sensed all three of them were envisioning making love to the women they adored. Ram was longing to be with his wife and their newborn son, Baudoin.