Royal Dynasty: Fire Song Part 24

Hesitantly, Fenice lowered her arm. "I am sorry," she whispered. "I am so very sorry. I should never have agreed to keep it secret, but Lady Alys said you would not care. You should have been told."

"Told?" Aubery s.n.a.t.c.hed her up and pulled her tight against him, shaking with laughter in his relief. "You silly little love, I always knew! I cannot now remember whether I read it in one of Alys's letters or whether my mother or William told me-"

"You knew?" Fenice cried. "You knew, and you treated me with such honor?"

She looked at him with dazed, awed eyes, as one might gaze on a heavenly apparition, and Aubery realized that his relief had come too soon. He had not done full penance, for Fenice thought him better than she-and he was worse.

"Why should I not treat you with honor?" he asked with dull bitterness. "Your blood is at least clean. If there is a taint to stain our children, Fenice, it will come from me. No, do not shake your head. Your mother was a serf, you say. Very well. My father was as well born as any other gentleman, but he was also a liar, a thief, a cheat, a lecher, and a murderer."

Fenice had been frightened at Aubery's first words, but when he had done, she looked at him with honest puzzlement. "But what has that to do with you?" she asked. "Those are habits a man learns, not something bred in the blood. I am sorry to hear what you say, but your poor father was doubtless ill taught. Even common as I am, because I have been well taught, I know right from wrong." Then, while Aubery was staring at her in somewhat dumbfound relief, she went on in a lower voice. "What cannot be taught, I fear, is a delicacy of spirit. My dear husband, I know how much I disgusted you with...with what I did at Pons-"

"Disgusted me!" Aubery exclaimed, distracted from the burden his father's memory always laid on him. "You shamed me."

"I know now," Fenice whispered, her head bent, "but I was so afraid for you that I did not realize I had gone too far."

"No, no," Aubery said, laughing and tilting her face up so he could kiss her lips. "I was not ashamed of what you did. I was astounded at that. Fenice, my love, it was of myself that I was ashamed. So proud a fool was I that I could not bear you should succeed and set me free where I had failed. I am ashamed of that, not of your courage and devotion."

"But I am sure no proper lady would have so defiled herself. I know you often compare me to your first lady and find me wanting-"

"No!" Aubery's voice was so loud that Fenice jumped and pulled away, thinking she had trod on hallowed ground. He drew her back into his embrace and said, more gently, "Matilda was a good woman, Fenice. I do not mean to speak ill of her, for she could not help what she was, but she was useless to me." He smiled rather wryly. "You are quite right that Matilda would not have found a way to extract me from that prison. She would probably have died of fright when I did not come back to the inn and would have added to my problems."

At that moment, Fenice saw no need of salvation. She had found her own heaven. She snuggled contentedly into Aubery's arms, but they were not as eagerly enfolding as she had expected, and when she looked up she saw his face was troubled. "You are not content, my lord," she murmured. "You say my mother's blood does not matter, but perhaps that is only your kindness because you love me. Only-"

"It is not your mother's blood but your first husband's that was in my mind," Aubery said, his voice harsh again.

"Blood... But Delmar died of fever. There was no blood spilled."

"That is not what I meant," he snapped. "You never speak of him. Does his memory still touch you so keenly?"

Fenice laughed aloud. Another joy had been added to what she had thought a full cup. Aubery was jealous! Delightful as that was, she had no desire to explain too fully why she felt so little grief at Delmar's death.

"My dearest love, I never spoke of him because I never thought of him," she said, throwing her arms around Aubery's neck. "My father chose him, and if he had been a devil I would not have complained. Papa has always been so good to me. Not that Delmar was a devil. He was...nothing."

"Nothing?" Aubery echoed before he could stop himself. "He taught you to handle a man full well for a nothing."

Fenice looked surprised. "Oh, yes, he was very good at that. But that was all he was good at. I suppose Papa hoped he would improve with age, and perhaps he would have, but while we were together, he was...nothing." She stopped and shuddered, then said, "I am glad I did not know at first, or I-I would not have been so willing a learner. I am glad now only because what he taught has pleased you, my lord. Has it not?"

That time it was Aubery's turn to laugh. The dull dislike in Fenice's voice when she mentioned Delmar's inadequacies seemed to explain why she called him a nothing. There was also a kind of comfort in her saying she had not known at first. Probably she had cared for him in the beginning and could hardly remember that now. It was like his mistake with Matilda, and he was satisfied that she held no longing in her heart for her first man.

"Well, I might not care to remember from whom you learned," Aubery said with honesty, "but I must admit that the results of the lessons please me." He lay down, pulling her with him, laughing. "Have you nothing new to show me?" he asked. "I, too, am an eager learner."

About the Author.

Roberta Gellis was driven to start writing her own books some forty years ago by the infuriating inaccuracies of the historical fiction she read. Since then she has worked in varied genres-romance, mystery and fantasy-but always, even in the fantasies, keeping the historical events as near to what actually happened as possible. The dedication to historical time settings is not only a matter of intellectual interest, it is also because she is so out-of-date herself that accuracy in a contemporary novel would be impossible.

In the forty-some years she has been writing, Gellis has produced more than twenty-five straight historical romances. These have been the recipients of many awards, including the Silver and Gold Medal Porgy for historical novels from the West Coast Review of Books, the Golden Certificate from Affaire de Coeur, the Romantic Times Award for Best Novel in the Medieval Period (several times) and a Lifetime Achievement Award for Historical Fantasy. Last but not least, Gellis was honored with the Romance Writers of America's Lifetime Achievement Award.

The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and e-mail address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Also by Roberta Gellis.

A Woman's Estate.

Fortune's Bride.

Siren Song.

The Cornish Heiress.

The English Heiress.

The Kent Heiress.

Winter Song.

end.