A Lady Under Siege(68)
SOON AFTER DARK THE summons came as usual, and she was escorted to Daphne’s bedroom. She arrived fully prepared to enliven the evening, to play sultry temptress and spark the heart of Lord Thomas, but on entering the room, she saw that the mood was sombre, and muted, with the candles dimmed. Daphne slept in the bed, and Thomas brooded in a chair close to her.
“She relapses, I fear. How faintly she breathes,” he said pensively. “Her skin succumbs to that sickly pallor I so dread.”
“You study her in her sleep too intently to be objective,” Sylvanne suggested. “Most of this afternoon she chattered to me freely, in high spirits. She even took a stroll along the parapet.”
“I’m not sure it was wise to expose her to that icy breeze.”
“She dressed snugly and enjoyed herself. You do worry so,” she consoled him. She came to him, stood close to him, and lay her hand on his shoulder. He turned his head, and rubbed his cheek against the back of her hand for comfort. The door creaked, and she pulled her hand away. Mabel entered, carrying sheets and feather bedding.
“Mabel has kindly offered to sleep here tonight, to give you recess from your constant surveillance of the child, and let you enjoy your own bed for a change,” Sylvanne told him.
“Very kind, but I’m not sure I should.”
“Oh, please do. Please. For me.”
He looked at her closely for the first time since she had entered. By candlelight she did indeed look beautiful, almost irresistibly beguiling. A glance at Mabel told him all he needed to know about what was in store for him this evening. Life is a paradox, he thought to himself—what I truly long for at this moment is company, that is, companionship. A shoulder to cry on, as Meghan expressed so recently, in my dreams. Instead, this stunning creature who may or may not despise me offers her body, without knowing that it will be fully mine for the simple price of disarming her in time. Well, she’s too beautiful not to take advantage of what she’s put on offer, and I’ll enjoy it doubly, knowing as I do that Meghan will be present in her, and will take pleasure in it too. Perhaps I’ll speak to Meghan in the lovemaking, and remind her that it’s for her, and for the kindness and companionship she has shown across centuries. As for Sylvanne, well, it needs doing, that’s the main part of it—the playacting needs to end, and then perhaps we may start all over again, this time without pretence and guile.
34
They passed the better part of an hour chatting amiably, while Mabel made a bed for herself on a divan in the corner, and kept to it discreetly. Daphne did not stir, but sleep seemed to benefit her, and a little colour gradually returned to her cheeks. Thomas felt relieved, and when he stood at one point to stretch his limbs, Sylvanne announced, “It’s time for me to be abed. Will you accompany me to my door? I don’t like to be unchaperoned with any one of these guardsmen of yours.”
Thomas carried a single candle to light their way along the passage to her chambers. When they arrived he unlocked the door and bade her enter.
“I’ll thank you to come in, and help me light the candles,” Sylvanne said to him. “It’s a task always left to Mabel, and now that she’s absent, I’m almost afraid to be alone.”
“Shall I stay on, keep you company awhile?”
“That would please me very much.”
With the flame of his candle he lit another on a small table, then set his own on the mantle of the hearth. Sylvanne moved toward her bed, toying with a ribbon in her hair.
“What shall we do to pass the time?” Thomas asked.
“I yield to your suggestion.”
“I don’t know. Do you play chess? I have a lovely board with soapstone pieces. I could send for it.”
“I’ve never been one for games of the mind,” she replied.
“Haven’t you?”
“No. I prefer action over thought. There’s beauty in movement, in a gesture,” she said, lifting her hand and turning it delicately in the air, like a songbird in flight. “The poets might try to capture it, but they always come up short.”
“They rely on words,” Thomas noted. “Words are not always true to thoughts.”
“Aren’t they?”
“What are your thoughts at this moment?” he asked her.
“I’m thinking how handsome you are.” She pulled at a ribbon, and let her hair tumble and cascade freely down over her shoulders. “And you, what are you thinking?”