part0003

Done in this year of our Lord, 1077, by the hand of Sauran Whyte, a humble maiden and servant of God, in this the noble castle of Horsham, in the land of the Saxons, known as Angle-land and also as England by the French.

This is the true account of my history with Gilbert de la Mare, the French Norman who wrested Castle Horsham from my rightful Saxon Lord. The bastard who styled himself as "William the Conqueror" granted him our castle.

May God prosper the cause of the Saxons and drive the evil, treacherous French-devil-Normans from our shores. Like a true patriot, with God as my witness, I have been and I am determined to resist the Normans in any and every way possible... with the hope that one day we Saxons shall again be free.

I write this diary in the pages of a blank journal which I had given to my old Lord as a gift last New Year's. I had found it while looking through his bedchamber for a weapon. De la Mare had been clever: everything I could have used to fight back against him... had already been removed from this room.

So, while I await de la Mare's pleasure for me, I choose to resist him with the only means at hand: this diary. I begin with the crime that he committed against me... that has led to my imprisonment here inside my old Lord's bedchamber.

It was a beautiful sunny day. I was walking down the path strewn with rose petals toward a man I had known all my life. Since our Saxon church had burned to ground and was not yet rebuilt, we had to be married outdoors.

Suddenly, the hoof beats of a horse being ridden hard could be heard. De la Mare had planned his approach very carefully. He was upon the wedding party before I saw him. He rode by me, reached down, hooked his arm around my waist, and pulled me up beside him on the horse.

I tried hard to wriggle out of his grasp. I was willing to risk falling from the horse... but the new master was far too strong for me. It seemed that all of de la Mare's tales of his strength and prowess as a soldier had been true after all.

Tears and wind stung my eyes as I saw my family disappearing behind me and the castle looming in front of me. I knew that it was only a matter of time before I would be raped. For why else would he have torn me from my wedding?

Of course, this was de la Mare's ultimate privilege as the master. The right "de seigneur" - gave him the authority to spend the "first night" with any woman on his estate. As a servant to the castle, this applied to me.

This "innovation" of William the Conqueror's was meant to encourage breeding between the invaded Saxons and the Norman invaders. "The King" sought to make the natives more resigned to the reality of the Norman Conquest by being less eager to kill the enemy parents of their hybrid children.

When we entered the castle, none of the Saxon servants (people I had known all my life) came to my aid. All I could do was kick my legs, wriggle, claw, and scratch him... to try and get away... even though he over powered me.

Soon enough I was in de la Mare's bedchamber. He unceremoniously flung me onto his bed. I moved to kick him between his legs when he grabbed my foot. In a moment, he had my body pinned securely underneath him.

He pushed his lips on mine and thrust his tongue into my mouth. I tried to bite him but he anticipated my response and prevented me. After a few minutes of kissing, de la Mare pressed his mouth against my ear.

"If you scream, it will be taken as proof that I have raped you... It hardly matters though... too many have seen me take you to my private bedchamber... Even now, word is reaching your loved ones that I have ravished you..."

I replied angrily. "Take care that you do not fall asleep with me in this bed... for if you do, I swear you shall never awaken." De la Mare laughed. "And then what shall you do? No Saxon will shelter a Norman whore."

I shoved my knee between his legs... and he doubled over from the pain. I rose and ran to the door only to find it locked. He laughed again. "I should have expected no less... but then one must pay a price for a woman of spirit..."

His smugness made me angry. I flung myself on top of him and began beating him with my fists. Yet he easily pulled me back underneath him. "It would be a mortal sin to waste a spirited woman like you on a dirty, ignorant peasant!"

I spat in his face but he laughed again. "They will never take you back... unless I agree to release you... which I shall not do. You are too necessary to this castle... and indeed too necessary to me..." He moved to kiss me... but I turned my face from him. I cried, "There are easier ways to get a servant..."

He smiled. "I have no need of servants... you have worked here long enough to know that more people desire to work in the castle than I need..." He kissed me but I just laid there without moving or responding to him.

Once de la Mare stopped kissing me, I said, "You have not taken anyone to your bed since you arrived here. Am I to understand that my new position in this castle is now to be whore to the master? Is that why I am here?"

He twined his fingers in my hair. "I have had my fill of whores in my youth... a whore is not what I desire..." I could feel his hardened manhood against my leg and so I remarked, "Your tongue may lie but your body does not..."

I moved to grasp him there but de la Mare grabbed my hand and forced it down. "You have inflicted quite enough harm there for one day, Sauran..."

Frustrated at my powerlessness, I cried, "I would cut that off were a knife at hand!" He put his mouth against my ear and thrust his tongue into it. Then he whispered, "You would be wise not to cut off the instrument of your future pleasure... and fulfillment as a woman..."

Now it was my turn to laugh. "Future pleasure? The Saxons say behind your back that you are a proud, arrogant fool... I see now that they were right..."

He slipped his hand inside my sleeve. With the pad of this thumb, he pressed the inside edge of my elbow. A wave of sexual desire radiated through me.

He whispered in my ear, "I know how to pleasure you in ways unknown to any Saxon. You must and will be mine... it will not be an easy campaign... but I will emerge the victor..." This time I found myself unable to resist his kisses.

Every time I regained control over myself, he would press on that place on my elbow until I yielded to his passionate attentions. Mercifully, there was a knock on the door. There was a problem in the courtyard that required de la Mare's immediate attention... and my heart leapt at this chance for escape.

De la Mare and his man, Stephane, placed ropes on each of the four corners of the bed. They tied my hands and feet securely to it. Hatred of him welled up again in my heart. Before he left, he dismissed his man and laid beside me.

De la Mare fondled my breasts as he said a few last words. "Get used to being in this bed... for you shall be here for the rest of your days. You asked about your new position in this castle... so, I shall tell you what that is... I desire you to become my wife. I am not fool enough to believe that you desire me now... or that you shall for some time to come... but time changes all things..."

"I shall only have you... when you shall have me... and only then after we have been lawfully wedded in the eyes of the church..." I looked him squarely in the eye and said with as much hatred as I could muster, "Hell will freeze over first..."

De la Mare smiled as he turned my words against me. "Then we shall skate as a pair together over Hell's frozen ice... Your tongue may lie but your body does not..." He had aroused my breasts into peaks by stroking them into hardness. I was ashamed to feel unwanted sexual desire for him.

He then kissed me and advised, "Get some rest... you have been through much today... and will be through much more tonight... when we are alone in bed... together... You will be mine, Sauran. You will be..."

He moved to kiss me again when I said, "If you have not tied me up securely, you will be alone tonight..." He smiled and remarked, "A woman of spirit!"

There was a knock on the door. The master's presence was called for in the courtyard again. For my part, I searched the room with my eyes to find any means of escape possible. I was determined to regain my freedom.

Day had turned into night. De la Mare had finally untied me so that I could use the "necessary" room. I had thought of just relieving myself on the sheets... but then all that would do is create more work for servants who already had too much to do. Once I was finished, I raced to the bedchamber door.

He had stripped and gotten into bed. He just laughed to see me struggling with the lock on the door. "I invite you to come over here and look for a key..."

The smug tone in his voice jogged my memory. One of de la Mare's first acts was to install a French lock on this door which did not have a key but worked on turning dials to the right series of numbers... which I did not know.

So, I turned to face him. The fire light perfectly illuminated his muscular body... and his erect member. For a moment, this sight took my breath away.

He added, "I cannot let you out of that door just as you are... What I see now, I'll not let another man see!" It was so warm in the room I has forgotten I was dressed only in my under garments as his servants had taken my other clothes.

I picked up his undershirt which he had draped over a chair and I put it on. Then I took the heavy wool shirt which had been over that and put it on.

He laughed and patted the empty space beside him on the bed. "No one believes you are still a virgin... You would be quite amused to hear all the scandalous stories swirling about the castle as to how I have deflowered you... Do you want to hear my favorites? They are quite entertaining."

I got into the bed beside him, rolled over, and closed my eyes. I thought it best to get some sleep so that I could be fresh to work on my escape in the morning.

Of course, de la Mare would not let me rest. He wore me down with gentle touches. I felt his hand sliding up under the clothes I had on. I thought about resisting him but decided to save my strength and wait for a better time.

Then something amazing happened... without his touching my breast at all... my nipple erected. I started feeling waves of sexual desire flooding through my body... as if he was pouring pure passion from his hand into my body.

He said softly, "My favorite story is how you struggled against me heroically at first. Yet I used my secret, evil, French Norman knowledge to overwhelm your poor helpless Saxon body with desire just like I am doing right now..."

I found myself unable to resist him as he pulled off the heavy wool shirt, then the nightshirt, and then my chemise. I was now completely naked.

I fought the urge to wriggle and writhe with the pleasure he was causing me. He placed his other hand between my legs and I felt a jolt of sexual energy entering there. It was a delicious sensation I had never felt before.

He whispered into my ear, "Early in my career, I was wounded in battle. It was feared I would die. Yet as I recovered an old Saracen woman took a liking to me. She instructed me in the forbidden secrets of infidel love."

"This is how she stirred my desire and got me to service her - repeatedly, against my will - even though she was the most repulsive woman I had ever seen... I could not resist her touch just as you cannot resist mine..."

De la Mare then gently stroked me into a spectacular peak of passion. A warm gush on my thigh told me that he had climaxed as well. I was too weak to stop him from tying my hands and feet back to the corners of the bed.

He then kissed me and rested his head on my stomach. "I think this is the first night since you told me you were to be wed... that I shall rest peacefully..."

With that, he fell into a deep sleep. I was too overwhelmed by the desire he had stirred in me to offer any resistance... and I fell asleep with him on top of me.

The next morning, I was still trapped in his bed. His body was on mine and he was kissing and caressing me... So, I held myself as lifeless and as stiff as a plank of wood. My body was his captive but not my heart was not.

De la Mare's breath was warm on my ear when he said, "You must and shall be mine..." To which I replied coldly, "Then poke me: take what you came for and let me be on my way back to my family and my home..."

He was confused. "Poke? My English is poor sometimes. What is this poke?"

I sighed: I did not believe that he had mistaken my meaning. "The French word is rape. Poke means a man forcing himself into a woman against her will to have sex. I care not for my virginity: I care only for my freedom."

He thrust his tongue in my ear and said, "I care only for winning your heart and it is not yet won." De la Mare slipped his hand between my legs and gently started stroking me. A small chunk of the ice around my heart melted in the heat of the flames that he created between my legs.

Yet, ever stubborn, I did my best to resist him. I repeated bitterly, "A snowball would have a better chance in hell than you winning my heart!"

He laughed softly. "I told you... You and I shall skate as a pair over a frozen ocean of fire and brimstone one day!" There was a knock on the door.

His servant, Stephane, arrived with the welcome news that de la Mare had been summoned by the King to attend him at Court - immediately. So he was obliged the leave the castle that very hour. Yet I was obliged to remain in his bedroom.

I watched de la Mare and his party leave the castle from my tiny window in my old Lord's chambers. I had been freed from my bonds but - before he left - more locks had been fitted over the bedchamber door to imprison me here.

He left his servant, Stephane, in charge: largely to make sure that none of the Saxon servants would set me free. Yet, one Saxon servant in the castle had proved his loyalty to me... by freeing me from the bedchamber during the flurry of activity that accompanied de la Mare's departure from the castle.

However, one of de la Mare's servants spotted me and forced me back into my prison room. After that, I noticed that all the Normans were armed. Since we Saxons never carried arms in the castle, I could no longer look to them to free me. Nor I would not allow them to risk injury in a pointless attempt to help me.

Then, when Stephane allowed a serving girl to bring in my meal, she said to me that the other servants were gathering intelligence about de la Mare for me. She spoke in the ancient Saxon tongue so that Stephane - who only knew English fairly well - would not understand her meaning.

I asked this kind girl to get word to my family that I was alive and - as yet - unharmed. I knew that my poor mother would worried about me and I wanted to ease her mind. Since my mother had saved this girl's life, I knew that she would see that my message got through to my family... one less thing to worry about.

I needed all my strength to find a way to escape from this castle before I was raped. To defeat my enemy, I needed to know everything that there was to know about him. I had to find some dark secret about de la Mare and use it to force him to release me... for he was the law and there was no other way.

De la Mare was a second son of "impoverished" French nobility... so all of his family's resources were devoted to his elder brother Roger's advancement.

Most second sons were "hangers on" at best. The lucky ones ended up as the parish priest on the family estate. The unlucky ones spent most of their time in the local tavern drowning their sorrows over the misfortune of being born second. The adventurous ones became "cannon fodder" for King and country.

By all accounts, de la Mare was an exceptional warrior. Not only did he survive eight years of non-stop combat, he so impressed the English King (for whom he fought as a paid soldier) that he won our castle as a reward for his services.

It was said that his parents wanted de la Mare to study for the priesthood... so he learned Latin. In secret, de la Mare used that knowledge to study every ancient text on soldiering and warfare that he could find.

He was determined to become a soldier because he had no respect for "fat priests who cared more for filling their bellies than saving souls..." He often boasted that he was meant for better things than a "dull life" in the priesthood.

When a local nobleman held a jousting contest, he entered it anonymously. The prize was a commission in the army of the King of France. He fought and won against men who were bigger, stronger, and faster than he was.

De la Mare took terrible risks in this contest... and suffered broken bones, stab wounds, and a terrible blow to his head. His bravery so impressed the King (who attended the final rounds) that he got a command instantly.

Supposedly his mother wept when he entered the Army. I could not help but share her sorrow... for had he become a priest we never would have met.

While de la Mare was gone to see the King, I had the leisure to recount our history from the beginning. I can still remember the stony silence and cold stares that greeted him as he and the rest of his entourage rode into the castle.

Before he arrived, Stephane had brought the news that de la Mare had defeated and killed our beloved old Saxon Lord in battle. Worse, that he was given our castle as a reward by the Conqueror himself after swearing an oath of loyalty.

As we all earned a living from working on the castle estates, we had little choice but to serve our new master as faithfully as we had served our old one... but we all (who were Saxons) were determined not to like our new Norman overlord.

Our old Saxon Lord had been good to us and we had all been proud to serve him... no one felt proud to labor for a Norman. His entrance was not promising. De la Mare had ordered Stephane to have us line up in the courtyard and await his arrival... which we did... for two hours in the blistering heat.

De la Mare rode in on a fine black stallion. It was as black as the hair on his head. His eyes were deep brown and he had a penetrating gaze. From his movements, it was quite clear he was used to giving orders... and he expected them to be obeyed. He had a commanding Norman arrogance about him.

As much as I disliked him, I had to admit that de la Mare was a very handsome man... for a French man. He was very muscular. In his manner and his movements, he reminded me of my grand-father who had been a warrior.

I was instantly ashamed at myself for drawing comparisons between my new Norman overlord and the best Saxon man I had ever known. So, I glared at de la Mare with as much anger and contempt as my position allowed.

Once de la Mare and the rest of his men arrived, they were dirty, hungry, and demanded instant service. This would have been made easier had we not been idle for hours waiting for him. Now everyone scrambled to obey his orders.

The whole time the "new master" kept staring at me rather rudely... which was unnerving because I was a virgin... and he could rape me without consequence. Looking back, I should have quit the castle then and there but I did not.

We had just finished setting out the meal on the table for the Norman soldiers when the new master sent for me. I grabbed two of the Saxon servants and went out to meet him. He had chosen to cool off by taking a swim in the stream nearby after he had wolfed down his meal (he had been the first served).

His horse was tethered to a tree and his armor and clothes were strewn over the ground like autumn leaves. Instead of waiting for him to speak (as was the custom), I inquired, "Shall we attend to your horse and your belongings, my Lord?" He just smiled and floated on his back, revealing his manhood. I had often found the male need to display themselves this way as quite immature.

I would not be "caught looking" so I did not blink as he answered, "Please do." I motioned for one of the Saxons to take the horse and said, "See that the animal is fed, washed, and brushed before attending to your other duties..."

The other one had started gathering his armor and clothes when I said, "See to it that the clothes are laundered and give the armor a good polishing..." Then he dismissed all the Saxons servants, leaving me alone with him.

De la Mare remarked, "So you would keep me naked, would you, mistress?" I pulled a change of clothes from my pouch. "I have brought you fresh clothes."

He laughed, "They told me that you think of everything... Since you have brought clothes, please assist me in changing into them..." It was obvious to me that he was proud of his muscular body... and he wanted to show it off.

As he changed, "my Lord" asked me many questions about the operations of the castle... and he took every opportunity to stand as close as possible to me. From the start, it was clear his interest in me was not as it should have been.

The next day de la Mare insisted that I give him a guided tour of the entire castle. Once we were alone in the counting room, he shut the door behind us.

I was relieved when he sat down and seemed more interested in inspecting the castle ledgers than in making unwanted advances toward me.

He pointed to a line item in the ledger, "I understand there is a William who is supposed to be in charge over you and the entire castle..."

I sighed. "He is bedridden and has not been back to the castle for near a year now..." He noted, "I see that this William is still being paid..." I nodded.

Before he could ask why, I explained. "I visit our William every day... to keep up the fiction that he is in charge. Yet his mind is gone. Our old Saxon Lord wished him to keep his post and be paid... in recognition of his long and faithful service. It is makes it easier to for the men in the castle to take orders from a woman who seems to do a man's bidding. If you no longer wish him to be paid, I would be willing to pay him from my own purse." He stared at me a moment.

De la Mare rose and closed the book. "I see no need to change the present arrangements. In fact, it is clear to me that you are doing an exceptional job in running this castle..." I know my face betrayed my surprise at his remark.

He continued, "Are you willing to continue in your post?" I said "Yes" for I had my mother, sister, and brother to think about... as I helped to support them.

A big smile crossed his face. "Excellent! From now on, you shall be known as my Chatelaine." Chatelaine was a French courtesy title for a female head of staff. De la Mare insisted on calling me by that title from then on... and I must admit that I secretly found this mark of respect to be quite flattering.

Yet once old William was dead, de la Mare made no pretense of finding an elder male to legitimize my "unnatural female authority"... he made me head servant outright. In one way, it made matters easier: there was no more pretense and my orders were obeyed at once. In another way, it made matters harder as a woman who commands men never has their complete respect or obedience.

The very next day, de la Mare called me to visit him in his private dining room. I saw a servant set a bowl of soup in front of him. On top of it was a white rosette of the kind that the cook had often made for our old Lord. Yet, as soon as I saw it, I knew that something was terribly wrong with it.

De la Mare rose as I entered. Before he could say anything, I said, "Forgive me, my Lord, but something is amiss." I scooped up the rosette and smelled it. Although cook had done her best to hide it, that rosette was made out of soap.

At that moment, de la Mare's servant, Stephane, arrived with the post. I turned to him and pointed at the Saxon servant who was cowering in the corner.

"This servant has made an attempt on your master's life..." With that Stephane grabbed the boy who blurted out, "It was not my idea..."

I laughed as I said, "I know exactly whose idea this was." I cut the rosette in three parts. With Stephane's assistance, I made the boy eat one of the pieces. I explained, "This will not kill anyone... but it will make them quite ill."

I turned to de la Mare and said, "With your permission, my Lord, I would advise that your servant feed one piece of this rosette to the cook. Then they should both be dismissed from your service and banished from the castle."

De la Mare nodded and said, "Do as my Chatelaine has advised, Stephane..."

As the pair withdrew, the boy started cursing at me in the ancient Saxon tongue. I knew that many of the Saxons in the castle would hate me for doing this... but I refused to be a party to murder, even if he was a Norman. Had I not intervened, De la Mare surely would have died had he eaten that entire poison rosette.

Once Stephane and the boy had gone, I smelled the soup in de la Mare's bowl. "This bowl of soup has been tainted by the soap rosette..." So I dumped it in the chamber pot nearby. Fortunately, there was an empty bowl on the table. After inspecting the pot of soup, I poured de la Mare another serving.

As I set the bowl at his place, I declared, "The rest of the soup seems fine."

De la Mare bade me sit down at the table. He asked, "Would that have really killed me, Chatelaine?" His voice shook as he asked that question.

I sighed. "You are a big, strong man and perhaps you might have survived it. Yet, cook clearly intended to kill you. She and our old Saxon Lord were close... to put it politely. I knew that cook was... angry at our old Lord's death. Yet, this did not give cook the right to serve you poison, my Lord."

De la Mare reached across the table and took my hand. I froze. He said, "I must thank you, my Chatelaine, for coming to my rescue."

I looked down at de la Mare's hand on mine. He quickly released me. So I continued, "You wished to see my, my Lord, on another matter."

He sighed, "I thought that we could share a meal while we discussed castle business..." which explained the empty bowl on the table.

I rose and said, "That would not be proper, my Lord. I am a mere servant and therefore not fit to share your table. I will return once you have finished your meal. Now if you will forgive me, I need to appoint another cook from among the kitchen staff. That way your meals will continue without interruption."

I bowed and walked away without waiting for de la Mare to give me leave. I half expected him to dismiss me for such impertinence. Had I done this to our old Saxon Lord, he would not have tolerated it at all. Yet my Norman overlord said nothing not then and not afterward... to which I confess was quite a surprise.

I was in the main healing room where I was putting the bottles of various herbal remedies back into the proper order. People in the castle often just took what they needed and left the bottles anywhere. Since there were often emergencies at the castle, everything needed to be in its proper place at all times.

I was so distracted that I did not hear de la Mare enter. I only knew he was there when he said, "I wish to speak with you..."

With all I had to do, I resented this intrusion. So, I turned and said, "The cook and the servant who tried to kill you have survived. I sent the third piece to my mother. She was able to make a purgative that saved their lives."

I turned back to my work. He asked, "Why did you save my life, Sauran?"

The shock of hearing de la Mare address me by my Christian name almost caused me to drop the bottle I had been holding. I turned to face him.

"My Lord," I said after a bow. "You may address me as either Chatelaine or as Whyte. You may not address me by my Christian name, my Lord."

He bowed and said, "Please forgive me, Chatelaine. Yet answer my question."

Since he insisted on knowing, I replied, "I am a Saxon following in the healing tradition of my mother. I save lives: I leave killing to the Normans."

De la Mare looked as if I had slapped him in the face. He turned and left me alone. He did not dismiss me nor did he reprimand me. Again, this was quite the surprise. Even though I served him, I did not have to approve of him.

This diary will contain nothing but the truth... the good as well as the bad. If I am honest, De la Mare made an unexpectedly good start to his reign over us.

I was entering the main courtyard where a cart full of goods from the town was being offloaded. I was quite surprised to see de la Mare assisting the servants in this kind of drudgery (as our old Saxon Lord would never have done so).

It was then I caught an evil look crossing Geoffrey's face as he moved behind the horse. I saw him strike the horse's hind quarters with something in his hand. The poor beast reared up, lurched forward, and pushed the cart forward.

De la Mare's sharp reflexes kept him from falling under the cart. Yet his boy attendant, young Tim, was not so fortunate: the wheel of the cart rolled over his knee. Before I could say anything, de la Mare had started to lift the cart off the poor boy. All the other male servants nearby came to their aid.

Tim's father grabbed his poor son and pulled him out from under the cart. The little boy's knee was a twisted and bloody mess. I ran to their side. I took the handkerchief from my pocket and stuffed it between boy's teeth.

I shouted, "On three. One, two, three." Four of the men held the boy down as I gently yet firmly pulled on his knee to get it back into place. The boy bit down on the cloth and then - mercifully - passed out from the pain.

From there I gave a flurry of orders. Two men grabbed Geoffrey and dragged him to the North Tower. Four more gently picked the boy and took him to the main healing room. Others saw to the horse, the cart, and some goods which had been scattered all about. It was then I looked over at de la Mare.

He was wrapping his hand - which had been cut open - to stem the flow of his blood. It was clear he had cut himself whilst rescuing Tim. Since there was no time to waste, I said (rather curtly), "Follow me. I will see to that hand."

Once we had arrived at the main healing room, the servants had placed poor Tim on the long table. Mercifully, the boy was still unconscious. As custom dictated, I moved towards de la Mare. We all were pleasantly surprised when our new master said simply, "Tend to the boy first: his need is greater."

I replied, "Thank you, my Lord." Since this was not the first accident inside the castle, everyone knew exactly what to do. Few words were needed as I cleaned and bound the boy's wound. Yet, the entire time, I could feel de la Mare's eyes upon me scrutinizing my every move and my every command.

After young Tim was moved into the quiet healing room, it was de la Mare's turn to be tended to. The wound on his hand was quite deep. "I am sorry to say, my Lord, that this wound will require stitches."

De la Mare just smiled and replied, "It will not be the first time." Indeed, there was a long scar on his forearm that must have been stitched at one time.

So, I set about cleaning him. "My Lord," I began. "I saw who caused this accident. It was one of the Saxon servants named Geoffrey. I am sorry to say that I am certain he intended to harm or even to kill you, my Lord."

De la Mare nodded, quite clearly in pain. So, I continued, "If our old Saxon Lord had one failing, it was his fondness for this Geoffrey." Of course, everyone knew that Geoffrey was one of his many bastards but I dared not to say that.

"My Lord, I implore you to banish Geoffrey from the castle. He has proved to me that he is danger to himself and to others. God knows that poor Tim will be crippled for life even if his knee heals properly. You must not let this pass..."

De la Mare nodded again. He bore my stitching him without complaint. So I said, "With your permission, I wish to have the servants take Geoffrey into the woods without delay. This way their party can return safely to the castle before darkness falls." Through gritted teeth, de la Mare replied, "As you wish!"

I was surprised when de la Mare added, "Send him away with what the castle owes him plus a month's wages." This was more than generous... certainly more than Geoffrey deserved. I was very touched by his compassion.

To everyone's amazement, young Tim made a good recovery. De la Mare even ordered that the boy be fitted with a walking stick to make his movement easier.

Yet de la Mare was not so fortunate. Despite my best efforts, the stitches on his hand became infected. This took many weeks to heal. In the end, it left an ugly scar on his hand... yet he never once complained. Indeed, he never spoke of that accident except to express sympathy for poor young Tim's wounding.

De la Mare quickly gained the respect of the servants in the castle for his courage... and his tolerance. I was certainly impressed by his forgiveness of the injury that he suffered. I was even more surprised that he did not blame the Saxon servants for failing to protect him as others might have done in his place.

Yet perhaps the most astonishing thing was that once de la Mare had taken possession of Horsham Castle, he set about improving it. This was not just to make it more comfortable for himself but to make it better for everyone who worked there... in the fine tradition of our old Saxon Lord.

He asked me what I thought was best to be done. I handed him the list of improvements I and our old Saxon Lord had devised before he had set off for battle. No one was more surprised than I when he started working on it.

I was astonished by de la Mare's willingness to "get his hands dirty" and do whatever was needed around the castle. In fact, even I noticed how often I was saying things like "our Saxon Lord would not have done this..." or "are you sure that you shall not be requiring a servant for this because our Saxon Lord..."

Finally, de la Mare turned to me and remarked, "If I want a servant, I am perfectly capable of calling for one!" And so we all stopped asking him.

One time there was a terrible rainstorm just as carts of building materials were arriving at the castle. De la Mare had agreed to pave the courtyard as it turned into a dangerous quagmire of mud whenever it rained hard (our old Saxon Lord was never willing to make this long overdue repair).

The servants were tripping all over themselves to unload the carts which had brought the very supplies needed to make those repairs. So, I went outside and began feverishly directing their efforts as the rain poured down even faster.

There was lightning: one of the horses bolted but then was reigned in. De la Mare had single-handedly held the horse down. Once he had tied it up, I was amazed to see him help to wrestle out boxes that had sunk into the mud.

Next a servant somehow got himself pinned under one of those carts. His screams of pain were so great they could be heard over the storm. Everyone was desperately trying to raise the cart when, miraculously, it was lifted up enough for the servant to wriggle out from under it, almost unharmed.

I turned around to see de la Mare straining to keep the cart up. Once the servant was free, he let go of the cart and it broke apart! Others saw to the servant whilst I grabbed the master's arm and pulled him back inside the castle.

I was barking orders to get him a change of clothes when de la Mare rested his hands on my arms. "I can attend to myself," he said. "You are soaked and shivering... please see to yourself before you catch cold, Chatelaine..."

De la Mare did not wait for me to see to myself. He took the blanket a servant had brought for him and placed it around my shoulders. I could not help but think that even our old Saxon Lord would not have shown me such kindness.

After the courtyard was rebuilt, de la Mare had run through his prize money (what he had earned from King William the Conqueror in battle). I was amazed to learn that de la Mare had raised more money by selling his ceremonial sword.

With the money he gained, de la Mare expanded the farm, added livestock, and installed a garden... all of which benefited the whole community (more than himself!). Best of all, for the workers, he remodeled the kitchen and the servant's quarters to make them less drafty (these were areas he never entered or personally benefited from). He said that he wanted to "do unto others as he would have them do unto him" showing true Christian love and charity.

It was not long after that when I decided to show him some Christian charity of my own. By then, the Norman servants he had sent for had finally arrived at the castle. Needless to say, they were not welcomed by the Saxon servants.

Worse, despite my orders to the contrary, the Saxon servants kept "tripping up" their Norman counter-parts by using native martial arts techniques against them. I was feeling really guilty about allowing the Normans to be hurt that way... when all they needed was a little knowledge to fight on equal terms.

I decided to bring this up as de la Mare and I were touring the grounds. I was showing him how we had set up for the fall festival in years past. He felt it was important "to improve relations between the Normans and the Saxons" by keeping up traditions. Traditions that were Saxon and not Norman.

A wave of guilt rolled through me... just that morning a Saxon had flattened three Normans... so I had to show him how to counter the Saxon attacks. The last thing that anyone needed was for someone to be killed inside the castle.

My voice quivered as I began, "My Lord, I have something to confess to you..." Then it poured out of me and I ended by saying, "I beg you to allow me to show you the counter move. I just can no longer stand idly by and allow your men to be hurt needlessly... Whatever else you may think, Saxons value fairness."

He smiled. "That is most kind of you, Chatelaine. So how do we proceed?"

I blushed. "Forgive me, my Lord but I must touch you... it is the Saxon way of teaching." His smile widened as he said, "Please use me as you will. I am most anxious to learn..." Truthfully, I was unsettled by his willingness.

I started by doing the attack move in slow motion and asked him to come for me as the Normans usually did. Then in slow motion I showed him how the Saxons easily evaded such moves. Then I countered with the ancient move that had consistently baffled the Normans. He seemed to be paying more attention to me than he was to my instruction. So I decided that I should put him to the test.

He nodded and said, "I think I can do the move now." I sighed and replied, "I'm sure that you do not! Come for me!" He was reluctant to do it and so I said, "Afraid I will hurt you?" He pursed his lips, charged me, and I flattened him.

As he rose, he asked, "Where did you learn that, Chatelaine?" He could not keep the astonishment out of his voice at being overpowered by a woman.

I laughed. "My grand-father taught me those moves. He was the best fighter in all of the town. I was his best student or so he said often enough."

I could see that I had wounded his pride. So, de la Mare demanded, "Show me, again." I put my hands on the master and positioned his arms and legs as I moved him through each one of the steps until he had learned them thoroughly.

As I kept touching de la Mare over and over again this way, I was ashamed to admit that I loved the feel of his muscles. I found myself admiring the controlled strength of his movements. He was quite content to practice the counter attack over and over again as the afternoon stretched into early evening.

Finally, I said, "I think that you have learned it now. I shall come for you. See if you can now deflect my attack." So, I charged de la Mare and he flattened me... but he was careful to then catch me in his arms so that I would not fall.

He paused, holding me in mid-air as he looked into my eyes. I could feel my heart pounding. For a moment, I thought I saw desire in his eyes. A voice in the background broke this moment and he pulled me up to my feet. He kissed my hand and thanked me. Then we turned to see young Tim racing towards us.

No one was quite sure of how it had happened. The town church had caught on fire. Young Tim had been out gathering nuts and berries. Even though he had difficulty in walking, ever since his injury, the poor boy insisted on being useful.

This day his task put Tim in the perfect position to see both the church and down the hill where de la Mare and I had been practicing our martial arts skills.

Once he understood what was required, de la Mare raced up the hill and toward the church. I had barely gotten to the top of hill - where young Tim stood - when I saw that de la Mare was halfway to down to the church already.

I could see a poor old woman on her knees, pointing to the church, and wailing piteously. I would have rushed to her side sooner but I could only go as fast as young Tim could hobble down the hill with his cane. The poor boy was terrified and I could not leave him behind me in all good conscience.

I admit that my heart skipped a beat when I saw de la Mare charge inside the burning building. There were other Saxon men about who were trying to put out the fire by fetching water and dousing the flames. For a split second, I felt quite ashamed of all of the Saxon men present: why did none of them have the courage to venture inside as de la Mare had done?

As young Tim and I moved quickly toward the church, I saw de la Mare bring a frightened, smoke stained little boy out of it. His father took the boy away from the church as de la Mare charged back inside. He quickly emerged carrying a little girl this time. Her mother rose up from her kneeling and hugged the girl.

By that time, Tim and I got to where the newly rescued children and parents huddled. De la Mare looked at me briefly before charging back inside. I could hear the little boy saying that there was one more child left inside the church.

She was hiding under the altar and was too frightened to move. De la Mare had gone back for her. Just as the boy finished explaining the situation to me, the burning frame of the church collapsed, trapping de la Mare and the child inside.

Young Tim grabbed my arm and begged me not to go into the collapsed burning rubble. By now, more people had arrived with buckets and they had started putting the fire out. After what seemed to me to be an eternity, the flames had died down enough to allow the Saxon men to dig through the smoking rubble.

They found the young girl underneath de la Mare who had curled his body around her at the last moment. The girl was unharmed but frightened. Yet poor de la Mare had been knocked unconscious.

Someone at the castle had seen the burning church and had sent a cart with some men to assist with the fire. Surprisingly, it was a mix of both Saxon and Norman servants who had volunteered to lend a hand.

The Normans went at once to the side of their fallen master. Between them, they loaded de la Mare into the cart. It was agreed that I would accompany him on the cart as I inspected his body to see how badly he was wounded.

Fortunately, the hand where he had cut himself on the cart was still bandaged and so it escaped damage. Yet the other hand was burned on the top rather badly. The skin was blackened and peeling there.

De la Mare's eyes flickered open for a moment. With his bandaged hand, he grabbed my arm. "Don't leave me, Chatelaine. Don't leave me."

Before I could say a word, de la Mare passed out from the pain. I was quite surprised to find myself worried about him. So even though he could not hear me, I said softly, "I will not leave you, my Lord..."

De la Mare had been sleeping in the quiet healing room for a full week since the fire at the church. Each day I had cleaned the burn wound on his hand and had then applied the healing salve to it. Since his hand was healing nicely that was a sign of good health... yet it was taking de la Mare far too long to wake up.

His servant, Stephane, took charge of the castle in his master's absence. Each morning before his duties began and each evening after they ended, Stephane came to ask after his master. It was clear that he was devoted to de la Mare.

Young Tim stayed by de la Mare's side both day and night. I was astonished by how quickly the boy learned how to properly tend to his master's needs. Since he proved to be such an apt student, it was agreed by all, that I should instruct him in the healing arts... just as my own mother had instructed me.

I found that to be comforting. With a bad knee, young Tim would have little or no success in the usual careers open to men. As a physician, his knee wound would not hold him back from achieving excellence in a healing profession.

As it happened, de la Mare had inhaled smoke whilst rescuing those children. It took him some time to recover from it. Once he finally awakened, he suffered from a continual cough and hoarseness in his voice. At times, he even coughed up blood and it was clear that he suffered chest pain while he did so.

This so alarmed me that I sent for my mother to come to the castle as she was an even more experienced healer than I was. She advised that de la Mare go on ever longer walks in the countryside to get fresh air.

Young Tim became his walking companion. Each day they would walk out for a bit longer than the day before. Gradually, de la Mare had less trouble breathing. Then his spells of shortness of breath became less and less frequent.

His illness meant that there would be no fall harvest festival as was the custom. As it happened that year, de la Mare was too ill to host the town's Christmas celebration. All in all, this was a peaceful, quiet time for me.

After the castle was made more habitable and the first planting was done, de la Mare arranged for a week's celebration of his new role as master of the castle. Since he had missed the fall and the Christmas festivals, he was determined to make up for it by staging the largest spring planting festival the castle ever had.

There were feasts, games, and professional entertainment. Everyone was invited to come and enjoy. When the local priest complained about such festive behavior, de la Mare placated him by sponsoring a fund-raising campaign to benefit the local poor. His scheme was a bit "scandalous" for us Saxons.

For every woman, young or old, who agreed to kiss him in public, he agreed to donate coins to the church charity. These were "chaste" kisses (a peck on the lips only). Since it was only to be brief kisses, everyone readily agreed.

On this occasion, the "Saxons" agreed to suspend their normal hatred of anything "Norman" and de la Mare got plenty of kisses. It was his Christian duty, he said, to "spread more love" throughout the world. It was all for a good cause and, of course, it was done in public with the priest supervising.

As his Chatelaine, I was the one responsible for collecting the coins and letting the women move forward to kiss him. There were many "oohs" and "ahhs" as he kissed blushing maidens, boisterous housewives, and love starved elders.

By then, I had to remind myself that de la Mare was our Norman oppressor, no matter how kind he was. Yet I was also surprised to find myself being a bit jealous of the young and lovely women who he so obviously enjoyed kissing.

Who really enjoyed this event was the priest who was eyeing the "poor box" gleefully as it filled up with coins. At last, the line had come to an end... and, very surprisingly, several women had paid more than once to kiss him!

He rose from his makeshift throne as the "King of Love" to thank one and all for contributing so generously to so good a cause. And yes, all the money raised did go to helping the poor (all Saxons as the Normans were his responsibility).

Unexpectedly (not just to me but to the entire crowd), de la Mare pulled out a bag of coins from his pocket and waved it in front of the old priest's nose. He declared, "I will donate this entire purse to the poor box, if I can have our good priest's permission to kiss - in public - the woman of my choice!"

Everyone cheered enthusiastically and the priest readily gave his permission. De la Mare walked through the crowd as the women blushed and called for him and practically swooned in his arms. He was enjoying himself immensely.

"Who will it be?" became the chant of the crowd. He handed me the bag of coins and I put it into the box. He extended his hand to me and the crowd fell silent. "Will you not kiss me, my Chatelaine, for the sake of Christian charity?"

I turned beet red and this only made people chant, "Kiss him! Kiss him!" I shook my head. That just made the crowd stomp, clap, and chant even louder. He smiled with mischievous delight as the chants of "Kiss him!" grew louder.

The priest helped me out of my chair and escorted me to his side. De la Mare looked deeply into my eyes as he took my hand. I was trembling as he leaned down and kissed me. It was a sweet but brief kiss on the lips... he planted another longer one on my hand as the crowd clapped and cheered.

I was astonished. We had been working side by side in the castle for months now. In all that time, de la Mare had been the perfect gentleman (apart from several stares from time to time that had quite unnerved me).

He then moved closer and said in my ear, "Thank you, this was most kind and generous of you. I confess that I have today 'kissed many a toad' just to get to kiss you today." I was so stunned that I did not know what to say.

When I stepped back from de la Mare, there was a softness in his eyes that I had not seen there before. In that moment, I could completely forget that he was Norman: such was the gentleness, the tenderness, and the kindness in his manner. His very soul shone from him like rays of the sun warming my heart. At that moment, for just a moment, de la Mare touched me deeply.

Then the crowd broke the silence by clapping and cheering. De la Mare took my hand in his and raised up our arms... no doubt to celebrate his victory.

My mother had been at the planting festival and had seen de la Mare kiss me. She was none too happy about this... so she insisted that I come home so that we could talk. Yet de la Mare had overheard our little exchange. He boldly interrupted us and invited my mother, my sister, and my brother to come to the castle where a special luncheon was to be given in their honor.

On the appointed day, my family came to the castle. I was surprised to find that my mother had brought my fiancé, Robert, with them. Even though we were not yet wed, we were engaged. We had been promised to each other for years. As far as my mother was concerned, Robert was already part of our family.

When the introductions came, however, the way my mother referred to Robert made it seem as if he was just another one of my siblings.

I did not feel the need to explain matters further to de la Mare. Considering that he had kissed me in the marketplace, the luncheon went well. My mother saw that I was polite and respectful to the master but nothing more. My siblings were so excited to be dining at the castle that they could not stop thanking de la Mare. They had always wanted to dine at the castle: now he made it possible.

Robert was so nervous that he said very little. He just looked down at his food and ate it slowly so as to avoid looking at anyone, myself included. As for de la Mare, he was as gracious and as charming to my family as if they had been royalty. Quite clearly, by their dress and manners, they were not royalty.

In fact, I was quite impressed that de la Mare remembered that my mother had been ill. Before they left, he insisted they take a basket full of herbs and other medicines with them. However, my mother was not fooled.

"Be careful of that Norman devil," she whispered in my ear, before she left.

After the planting festival, I was grateful that de la Mare was so occupied with castle matters he seemed to have forgotten about our brief kiss. I was relieved (because we worked so closely that we were often together) but I was ashamed to feel disappointed (because it seemed to have meant nothing to him).

Now it was almost the season for weddings. Everyone was now wondering if de la Mare was going to exercise his right "de seigneur" - the privilege of spending the "first night" with any woman on his estate. I was chosen to perform the delicate mission of closely questioning de la Mare about his future intentions.

It was a lovely spring day... hotter than usual for that time of year. De la Mare had worn a tunic without sleeves... which showed his rippling muscles to good effect. I was embarrassed and surprised at how I kept on noticing them.

I knew that de la Mare would be in the counting room... alone that day. He was furiously writing letters when I entered. He did not look up.

"I left orders not to be disturbed!" There was an angry look on his face when he raised his head. Then he saw me and an unexpected and pleasant smile crossed his face. I admit to being flattered by being the cause of this change.

I said, "I am so sorry to disturb you, my Lord. There are just a few brief but urgent matters to be discussed..." He put down his pen and remarked, "I always have time for my Chatelaine... Please, sit and take your ease..."

I smiled and sat down. "Thank you, my Lord..." At first, we discussed castle business. That being done, he asked, "Anything else?"

I was surprised to hear myself say that a local boy had returned from university and that this youth might make him an able secretary. He shook his head. "I prefer to write my own letters... The less others know my mind, the better."

I nodded. "As you wish, my Lord." He continued, "However, I do very greatly appreciate your thoughtfulness in attending to my welfare as you always do. Well, perhaps there is work we can find him in the castle. I will think on it. In the meantime, I must get back to these letters... unless there is anything else..."

I blushed and so de la Mare asked me, "Is something wrong, Chatelaine?" I shook my head and asked, "Would you care for some refreshment, my Lord?"v

Even before the servant entered the room, we could hear the clattering of the tray she carried. I let her in and saw that she was shaking so badly that cups of wine were almost being spilled. I quickly grabbed the tray and dismissed her.

"What was all that about?" de la Mare asked, as I summoned my courage.

"I am ashamed to say it... but you have lived near a year in the castle and..." I suddenly became overwhelmed by his manliness as de la Mare stared at me.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but what you do or do not do is noticed by the castle and the town. You have not yet taken a woman to your bed... which is unusual for one in your position... and it makes people wonder about your intentions."

He shook his head. "I suppose Saxons will never trust Normans... no matter what we do..." I said, "It is not that, my Lord, it is just that..." A red wave of embarrassment rolled across my face as he repeated, "Yes, it is just that..."

I could hear the nervousness in my voice as I continued, "This is a delicate matter, my Lord. In a fortnight, it will be the season for weddings. Everyone is wondering if you shall demand... your right 'de seigneur', my Lord? That girl who brought the wine is to be married next week and... she is worried..."

I was quite surprised by de la Mare's reaction to this sensitive topic.

He sighed. "I would only tell you this but... I believe it is a barbaric practice of the English King. It is written into the charter for this land that I may 'take any woman in the castle or surrounding towns into my bed' at my discretion."

"I cannot go against royal authority by openly proclaiming this... but if you spread it about that I do not intend to exercise that right now or in the future... I would be most grateful. What think you of this, Chatelaine?"

I was touched. "That is more than kind and generous of you, my Lord. I can assure you that his news shall be well received by both castle and town."

He replied, "Well, I think it is best for me to start as I mean to continue... Please bring the servant girl back here..." So, I did as I was bid.

I made the mistake of not telling the poor girl in advance why she was being called in to see the master. When she arrived, the girl was a weeping mess.

My Lord handed her a handkerchief and then he got down on bended knee before her. The poor girl was startled by such unexpected kindness. For myself, I was quite shocked by this unusual act of chivalry on his part.

De la Mare said gently, "I swear before God and my Chatelaine that I shall not harm you in any manner... that further I shall respect your betrothal and your marriage vows. I beg you to accept this gift from me..."

De la Mare handed her a small purse of coins. Then he said, "I am certain there is much to prepare before you are wed. So, I wish you to cease working at the castle this week and attend to your preparations..."

Her mouth dropped open but she was speechless. I said, "I am certain she is most grateful, my Lord, for your kindness and generosity... May she not go now, my Lord?" He smiled and said, "Of course." The girl bowed and scurried away.

De la Mare rose and asked, "Do you think now 'people' - by that I mean the Saxons - may be convinced of my sincerity in this matter?"

I was deeply moved by de la Mare's surprising act of kindness. So, I said, "I think, my Lord, when others come to know you as well as I do, they will become convinced not only of your sincerity but of your compassion and generosity..."

Now de la Mare's mouth dropped open. I blushed and added hastily, "If I have been too free in expressing my opinions, please forgive me, my Lord..."

De la Mare moved close to me... too close. "What I chiefly value in you... what I rely upon you for... is that you are ‘free in expressing your opinions’, Chatelaine. So, if I may be as free... just to stop you from wondering..."

He took a deep breath and continued, "I have not taken a woman to my bed because the only woman I wish to bed with is my wife. Until I win my wife's heart with words and deeds, I will keep my body a holy temple... so that I may worship her with it when the time is right..."

I could feel my heart pounding as de la Mare moved even closer. He was stopped by an insistent knocking on the door. Reluctantly, he replied, "Enter!"

It was the fiancé of the servant girl... the boy fell on his knees and thanked de la Mare by taking his hand and kissing it repeatedly.

Once the happy couple had left the counting room, I realized that de la Mare was more relieved than I to see this matter settled.

So, I praised him again for his kindness and I added, "I know that this will have another beneficial effect. Everyone in both caste and town will trust you more readily now. In turn, it will make finding my replacement that much easier."

De la Mare shot out of his chair and began angrily pacing the room. I was quite surprised by this reaction. While he had lain ill, I had done my best to prepare his Norman servants for my eventual departure. Even had he not kissed me and forced matters into the open, at my age, marriage now was inevitable.

I pressed on. "I am to be married this year, my Lord. In view of your many kindnesses to me and to all in the castle, I have persuaded my family to change the date from April to September... so there will be ample time for me to instruct a replacement. I do not wish you to be at all inconvenienced, my Lord..."

My mother had been pressing me to settle the date each time I met her in town. On my last shopping trip, she was quite concerned that "the devil Norman" would rape me and get me with child before I could be wed.

She wanted her grand-children to be Saxon. We both knew that it would be safer for me to have a child before I got too much older. There was another consideration: Robert had been spending too much time at our farm... and tongues were wagging rather viciously about what an unmarried man did there.

So, it could be put off no longer. I asked my mother to make the arrangements. She had been overjoyed when I agreed to tell de la Mare of my plans at once.

I was not sure how de la Mare would react to this news... but I had not expected him to react with such agitation. I confess that I was sad to be leaving the castle... but I accepted that I could not have children and still work there.

De la Mare demanded to know all the details. "Who have you chosen to wed?" Gone was the calmness I had come to expect from him. In fact, I had only ever heard him use this commanding tone with servants who had disappointed him in some manner. Never before had he used that curt tone with me.

I laughed, hoping to lighten his mood. "I did not choose. There has long been an understanding that I should wed Robert Miller. Our family farms are hard by one another. They will be joined formally once we are wed."

De la Mare seemed genuinely surprised. "Is that the Robert who came to luncheon with the rest of your family? Can that be who you mean?"

I replied, "Yes, my Lord. It is the same Robert who dined at the castle." De la Mare's pace quickened. "You mean that you are to wed that lump who stared into his plate the entire time? He barely said two words!"

Even I had to admit that Robert's dullness, at times, tried my patience. Yet I could not tell him that. I said, "Robert Miller is a good man, a steady man..."

De la Mare interrupted, "You are describing a plow horse, not a man... You speak of families and farms... yet there is no passion in your voice. What would you want for yourself, Sauran, if you were free to choose?"

I was surprised that he had addressed me by my Christian name but I chose not to make the situation any worse by complaining... so I let it pass. I confined myself to just remarking, "The choice has been made, my Lord..."

He cut me off, "I swear you would have more joy from a plow horse than you would from that tiny, miserable excuse of a man..."

I cut him off, "Shall I leave now, my Lord?" He sat down in the chair beside me.

Anger edged his voice as he declared, "I intend to take a wife this year as well... from among the Saxons..." His knees were touching mine and his closeness was making me uncomfortable. His eyes seemed to be searching my face.

I said softly, "Even were I no longer your Chatelaine, I would be happy to assist you in preparing for your wedding... In fact, I would be honored."

He cut me off and leaned in closer, "The Saxon woman I choose... although I would not demand the right 'de seigneur' from her... I would pursue her... as a man would pursue the woman who stirs his deepest, passionate desire... Would you agree that is my God given right, Sauran?"

Before I could answer, two of his Norman foot soldiers entered the room: a dispute had broken out and my Lord was needed to settle the matter. He looked back at me to see if I would answer. Instead, I just bowed to him.

On the Sunday following the fight among the Norman soldiers (which was a petty dispute quite easily settled by de la Mare), the nervous servant girl was married. The happy couple were quite delighted to be wed at long last.

Out of gratitude for his generosity, the couple invited "the good master" to the celebration. He came but he also insisted that the highest ranking servants of the castle attend him there. So, I put on my Sunday best and stood beside him with the rest of the servants... but de la Mare could not take his eyes off of me.

Now his insistent stares set tongues to wagging. It was said that I was made "Chatelaine" not because I had been doing the work for years... but because I was pleasuring him. That the master had not taken a woman to his bed made everyone conclude we were intimate no matter how much I protested otherwise.

To his discredit, de la Mare did nothing to quiet the rumors. Indeed, he seemed to be pleased by them. If I could have, I would have quit his service then and there. Yet my mother had fallen ill and I had to remain at the castle to earn enough to pay her physician. So, I bore all with as much grace as I could.

In the days that followed, both Saxons and Normans (independently of one another) made increasingly snide comments implying that I was "servicing" de la Mare in ways that only a woman could. I just ignored their rude remarks.

Yet, I should have realized that ignoring such gossip only meant the general displeasure would be expressed in another way. Especially since what de la Mare was about to do would be taken proof positive of his carnal passions.

I had seen de la Mare get a letter earlier that fateful day... and I had noticed that ever since reading it, he became nervous, irritable, and upset... quite unlike his usually calm and controlled self. Normally, he loved sitting at the head of the table in the main hall where all the residents and servants took their meals.

That night, de la Mare asked me to dine alone with him in his private dining room... which we had done infrequently when the situation called for it. To my discredit, I had begun to trust de la Mare over the time we had worked together. It seemed we had something important in common: the welfare of the castle.

The dinner went pleasantly enough... although the conversation seemed forced on his part. Toward the end of the meal, I felt hot, flushed, and dizzy.

I could not stop myself from sliding out of my chair. Of course, de la Mare caught me and carried me to his bed. Although the dizziness got worse, I could feel him stripping off all my clothes. My body was on fire as he lay on top of me.

He whispered in my ear, "If you knew how much I needed this... you would not deny me what I am about to do..." He then proceeded to kiss and caress my naked flesh. I was unable to resist him physically but I was furious mentally.

Any trust I had felt for de la Mare was gone as I felt his erect manhood against my leg. He whispered, "You will leave this chamber a virgin... but I need to be close to you now so badly..." He thrust his manhood underneath me using my buttocks to supply the pressure necessary for his ejaculation.

After he climaxed, he kissed and caressed me. I cursed myself and went back to "resisting" him to the utmost by allowing anger and rage to harden my heart.

Two days later, the cause for de la Mare's anxiety became clear when his parents quite suddenly and unexpectedly arrived at the castle gates. His father was very henpecked by his arrogant and domineering mother.

They were still in the courtyard when his mother announced that she had arranged for her son to marry a rich heiress. This, she reminded him archly, would settle his debt to them "for the great inconvenience caused by his entering the Army!" without either her approval or consent.

The woman spoke as if it was already decided and that it admitted of no further argument. I was surprised to see how meekly de la Mare acted in her presence. My anger over his "lovemaking" melted away. I pitied him instead.

As I served them dinner, de la Mare's face bore the same dull expression as those Saxon children who had been beaten severely by their parents. His mother spoke almost the entire time. De la Mare's father spoke only to agree with his wife. Yet de la Mare did not say a single word and he ate very little.

I must admit to being surprised. I would have thought that eight years of almost non-stop warfare would have hardened him. Yet de la Mare listened with an impassive expression to his mother's grand plan for this life.

Although she explained it at great length, the plan was actually simple. De la Mare would marry her hand-picked heiress. He would then leave England and lodge with his elder brother, Roger, at the French Court. Once there, he would serve as Roger's advisor. Their servant, Stephane, would remain behind to run the castle. Thankfully, I would be leaving the castle anyway to get married.

His mother seemed quite satisfied that all her plans were arranged. Only I seemed to notice that de la Mare had not agreed to them. When she rose from the table, she gave her son a peck on the cheek. He did not move nor did he bid "Good night" to his parents as they did to him.

Once his parents had left the dining room, he turned to me and said, "Tomorrow we must review the accounts... to see how much money we can spare... without compromising the projects underway..." I agreed and left him alone.

So, the next day I gave him my opinion as to what we could spare. De la Mare asked me to fetch that sum at once and bring it back to the main hall. Clearly, his parents were ready to leave the castle once they had received this money.

Once there, he bade me give the chest to his mother which I did. She opened it and, quicker than any money changer I had ever seen, she counted it up.

De la Mare motioned for me to stand beside him. He said, "Mother, you will find that to be sufficient repayment for all the trouble I have caused you." She nodded and bade her servant to take the chest. This his mother again started outlining the financial benefits of his engagement to the rich heiress.

He stopped his mother by saying simply, "I will not take a woman to my bed who I cannot take into my heart..." He took my hand, looked at me, and continued, "The truth is that there is already someone in my heart."

His mother's reaction was instant and violent: "How dare you be disobedient? What does it matter if you love your wife? Why would you want a servant?"

"My dearest Sauran is everything to me... I love her beyond words..." He took me into his arms and kissed me... I was far too stunned to resist him.

"I love her for so many reasons..." De la Mare kissed me again and said, "I love her because her beautiful body stirs me to passion as a man like no other."

With another kiss, he said, "I love her because she challenges my mind and sharpens it like a blade in combat..." With another kiss, he continued, "I love her because she rouses my emotions and she makes me feel alive..."

With one final kiss de la Mare added, "I love my dearest Sauran's soul and I want nothing more from this world than to join her life to mine..."

I was not certain that de la Mare was serious about his declaration of love for me. I supposed that, since I was the only woman of marriageable age at hand, he was using me... just as he had used me earlier to slake his lust.

His mother was less uncertain about his intentions. Hearing of his love for me, she began quaking with rage. She stormed out of the castle (with her husband in tow). She vowed to have nothing further to do with her son.

He said to me, "You shall never be like my mother... I know that now. Indeed, you are her exact opposite. That is another reason why I love you, Sauran."

There was sincerity in de la Mare's eyes. Yet, the memory of him making "false love" to me filled my mind. I was so disconcerted by this unexpected turn of events that I withdrew to my bed chamber, pleading a sick headache.

My mother taught me that one should never feign illness as it invites God's wrath. Indeed, God's wrath was visited on the castle three days later.

Young Tim stumbled into the barn as I was working with the other servants to pack and store the surplus harvest. I saw the black sores on his neck before he collapsed to the ground. The servants took Tim to the quiet healing room.

In the meantime, I sounded the alarm that the Black Pox had invaded the castle. The black flags were raised immediately as the castle doors were locked.

At that time, de la Mare was outside of the castle. He, along with his favorite Norman servants, were out on a hunting party which was to last for several days. Although it had been prudent of him to want to bring in game that could be cured and stored for winter, that was not why he had gone from the castle.

Although de la Mare had apologized to me - more than once - for using my body to slake his lust, I wanted to be done with him. Despite his touching declaration of love for me, I asked to end my service to him. I begged de la Mare to be allowed to return home to my family at once... so I could begin my married life.

He had begged me to reconsider. To give me time to think, he went on that hunting party... hoping that I would change my mind. It was a vain hope.

As I ran back to the quiet healing room, all I could think about was poor Tim. When I sat down by his bed, young Tim smiled at me.

He said, "I will watch as you work on me, my lady." I usually corrected him when he addressed me this way but not this time.

I forced a smile on my face. "As I work, I shall explain what I am doing... step by step. That is how my mother taught me... and how you shall learn..."

Tim wrapped his fingers around my thumb. "I shall learn well. You shall see, Lady Sauran. I shall prove to be a worthy student."

Tears stung my eyes as I stumbled out of the quiet healing room. After a struggle of several hours, young Tim's body had given out... and he had died. Once I had attended to all those who had fallen ill, I went outside and wept.

My face was buried in my hands... so I did not know that someone was approaching me until I heard his voice. It was de la Mare. He had returned early from his hunting party with his cohort of Norman servants.

I could see from their faces how proud they were about how much game they had killed. De la Mare was clearly expecting me to be impressed... my reaction was panic and anger that shone very clearly through my tears.

"Oh my God," I shouted to the servant nearest him as I ran toward them. "What have you done? Get all that game to the outdoor smokehouse - NOW!"

Everyone froze for a moment until de la Mare shouted, "Do as the Chatelaine says! Get that game - all of it - out of the castle - NOW!" De la Mare took my hands in his. "Tell me what is amiss, Chatelaine?"

I cut off his words by asking, "Did you not see those black flags flying as you came near the castle? You must come with me... all of you must..."

They hesitated: so I shouted, "For Christ Jesus' sake I am trying to save your lives! You must come with me now to the South Tower!"

There was no time for politeness. "Who let you in?" I barked at de la Mare.

He told me and I ordered a servant to send that miscreant immediately to the North Tower where he was to be held under arrest until further notice.

As I led the Normans to the South Tower, I shouted. "Have any of you had the Black Pox?" They all seemed confused. "If you have not even heard of it," I continued, "it is unlikely that any of you have had it in the past... This is a disease that is native to England as far as I know."

So, I turned to de la Mare and said, "This morning we all awoke to find four dead of the pox and three more rotten with it. I had no choice but to post the black warning flags and to close up the castle... until it can be dealt with..."

By the time, we reached their "safe room", these strong, hard bitten soldiers were thoroughly horrified by my answers to their questions about the plague.

I looked at the terrified soldiers and said, "I shall see to your care myself. I shall bring you food... but first I must go back to assist in making our home remedy for the pox. The good news is that most grown men DO survive it!"

I added, "Since none of you have been exposed to it, all of you shall be the first to receive our medicine. If any one of you falls ill, I must be told at once."

"I pray God that you all shall be spared... death by pox is something I would not willingly see anyone endure..." Inside I added, "not even my worst enemies..." As I had much work to do, I left them alone to contemplate their fates.

Before I left, I could see the gratitude in de la Mare's face. Yet all I could not spare a single moment... because so many lives hung in the balance.

It took a few hours... but at last I returned to the Normans with food... and cups of my home remedy for the plague. Still suspicious, the soldiers were reluctant to take it. So, I took a cup and sipped some. Then de la Mare took the cup from my hand and downed it. He turned to his men and said one word, "Drink!"

Once I had seen them all take the remedy, I left. De la Mare followed me outside and he gently rested his hands on my shoulders.

All he asked was "Will you swear to remain at the castle?" I rolled my eyes. "I cannot leave now. There are many more of my people here than yours... I am honor bound to attend to them all. If I were to leave before the pox passed, I would be risking the whole town, my own family included. The pox is no respecter of persons. You must go back inside with your men, my Lord."

Before de la Mare would agree to go back inside, he wanted a full report of how the residents of the castle were faring... so I gave it to him.

He listened politely and then he took my hands and placed them over his heart. "If this is the hour of my death, Sauran, then I want you to know that - with God as my witness - that I meant what I said - I love you with all my heart."

With that de la Mare kissed my hands and went back inside with his men. As I watched him leave, I prayed to God to spare him... "Love your enemy as yourself" I said to myself... but I knew that was a just an excuse.

I had to admit that, despite everything, I did not want him to die. Over the next few days, as I entered the Norman's safe room, my heart was in my mouth as I looked him over for signs of the plague... I was relieved to see none each time.

When everyone was cared for (to the best of our ability), I visited the North Tower. I confronted the Saxon servant who had let the Normans back into the castle. I took the Normans with me who I knew hated this servant the most.

"Take a good look at these men," I shouted, "for by your thoughtless act, you may have condemned them and the rest of their countrymen to death!"

With a face and a voice full of seeming innocence, the servant explained, "But I had to let the master in! It was my bounden duty..." That was a bald-faced lie.

I shook with the anger I was feeling, "We Saxons always claim to be better than the Normans because there is no blood on our hands. We do not rape! We do not murder! We do not steal what rightfully belongs to others!"

"If one of those men you let into the castle dies of the pox, they will look at rape, murder, and theft as blessings compared to the agonies they shall suffer before they die! I assure you that I will see that you join them in death!"

The servant spit at me through the bars of his cell and shouted, "Norman whore!" One of the Normans was about to reach in and strike the Saxon, when I stopped him. I wiped the spit from my cheek and glared at the Saxon.

I explained, "Someone will have to bring out the dead. This is the man for that job. Bringers of the dead usually die of the pox. A fitting punishment indeed."

With that we left the Saxon who screamed and begged for mercy.

Days became weeks. Just as I was beginning to think we were in the clear, there was a terrible clamor coming from the South Tower. Several of the Saxon servants and I raced there to find its cause. De la Mare would not open the door for anyone but me. What I found inside that room was truly terrible.

One of the men had fallen terribly ill overnight. Blood was pouring from his eyes, foam was lining his mouth, and his body was covered from head to toe with black sores. He was twitching and shaking violently. It took three grown men to hold him down. I knew instantly that his case was absolutely hopeless.

I took one of the soldier's daggers from the table. I plunged it into the man's eye and through his brain killing him instantly. "You bitch!" one of them cried.

That Norman moved to strike me but de la Mare was too quick for him. He knocked my attacker unconscious with a single blow. The others backed off.

I looked de la Mare in the eye and explained, "There was nothing I could do for him... It was not right to let him suffer so." Now he explained, "Your attacker was the dead man's elder brother..." All I could do was nod.

I looked at him and said, "We must remove the body... even though he is dead, his corpse can still spread the pox. He... it must be burned, sprinkled with soap and placed in ash. It is the ancient way... that is the only way which works..."

De la Mare hoisted the dead man over his shoulder and brought him down to the perimeter of the safe area. I made sure that the servant (who had let them into castle) was responsible for disposing of this Norman body.

As I led de la Mare back to his men, I explained that the illness seemed to be lessening. I said that, except for the one I killed, there were no new outbreaks of the pox in the castle. So, there was an end in sight for his imprisonment.

I paused on the landing, looked him in the eye, and said, "Had your man been a Saxon, I would have done the same for him. I am sorry that his life was lost for nothing. So I bear the man who tried to hurt me no ill will. I would have done the same in his place. I can understand one brother protecting another..."

De la Mare nodded. Then he threw his arms around me and started kissing me passionately. It took all my might to pull away from him. I was horrified that he had risked himself by kissing me. I said breathlessly, "I have survived five cycles of the pox... you are taking your life in your hands by kissing me now!"

His breath was warm on my ear. "I do not want to die without kissing you one last time, Sauran." Despite my better judgment, I found myself melting into his embrace. I did not resist when he slid his hand over my breast and fondled it as passionately as he kissed me. Although it was wrong, it felt right somehow.

He took my face in his hands. "I know I have destroyed any trust you might have had in me... once I used you... I was weak and there is no excuse..."

Tiny tears shone in his eyes as he continued, "Yet now that we all are facing death, I hope you will finally believe that I have loved you from the very first moment I beheld you standing among the servants of the castle..."

His voice was suddenly very gentle. "You were the only one who dared to glare at me with fire burning in your eyes. I knew that the man who could enflame your passion would find a love that would last a lifetime..."

He placed his fingers on my lips. "You need not say anything. I know that you still regard me as the enemy. All I ask is that you take care of your precious self. Promise me that you will do your best to live another day... even if it is to hate me for being in it..." I nodded. He released me and returned to his men.

A few days later, de la Mare had paid the price for kissing me. His body had finally reacted to the pox by trapping the toxins in a cyst that was perilously close to his groin. I had first noticed that something was wrong when he could not stand or walk without any pain. Yet he refused to complain.

He would not admit what was wrong in front of his men. So, we withdrew to a small but private storage room where he finally admitted what was troubling him. I had him lie down on a large storage box so that I could examine him.

The first thing I noticed was that he had covered a large cyst on the top of his hand with the sleeve of his shirt. As I worked on lancing and draining the cyst, I told him, "Such large poison lumps are common in young Saxon children. Since you did not grow up here, this is why you are getting these now. You must be examined so that any other areas of poison may be drained from your body."

De la Mare turned beet red as I went on to tell him that he had to strip naked... but he did so. He wrapped a cloth around his hips and lay down on his stomach. I located many cysts which I lanced, drained, and bandaged.

Once his back was clear, I asked him to turn over. The cysts on his chest and legs were worse than those on his back. As I drained them, he kept on passing out from the pain and then waking up as I worked on him. Finally, the pain overwhelmed him and de la Mare slipped into complete unconsciousness.

This was no time for modesty: I stripped de la Mare completely naked. There was an abnormally large cyst growing perilously close to his groin. So, I probed the edges of the cyst with my fingers to determine its size.

I was startled when I pushed in one spot and that give him an instant erection. A huge wave of sexual desire - caused by my touching that spot - was stirred inside his body. It started to pull him back into consciousness.

I was startled and so I hastily put the cloth back over his now erect member. I focused on the draining other cysts, hoping the pain would settle him down.

His eyes fluttered open and he became embarrassed by his erection (quite noticeable under the cloth). Unlike the day we met, he did not flaunt his manhood at me. Indeed, he seemed to be quite embarrassed that it was now revealed. Since I had a brother, this state of affairs was no mystery to me.

He looked at me with passionate desire but I had no choice but to press harder on the cyst to get it to drain more. He again passed out from the pain.

I tried other ways but I had to press on his arousal point to keep on draining the cyst. Amazingly, his desire proved to be stronger than the pain... and, at the end, he ejaculated while he was still unconscious. At that moment, de la Mare seemed more human... and less Norman to me.

It suddenly occurred to me that I could have killed him. I could have taken the castle back. All it would take was to insert the needle - that I had used to drain his cyst - under his eye and into his brain. Yet that was just a momentary flash of hatred that entered my mind. I could not do that: I was a healer, not a killer.

All I had to do was look at the scars on de la Mare's hands. One he had gotten when the sharp edge of a cart "accidentally" ran into him and crushed poor Tim's knee. The other he had received when he rescued a Saxon girl from a burning church. I was ashamed about what we Saxons had done to him.

As I drained the poison from his body, I reflected that it was much easier to hate someone for "who" they are... if you never got to know them. Indeed, it is hard to be prejudiced against someone... once you have seen their true heart.

Observing de la Mare's daily kindness to all who worked in the castle - Saxons and Normans alike - made it hard for me to hate him. Experiencing his tenderness to me - the gentleness whenever he touched me, the look of pure love in his eyes, the kindness of how he usually spoke to me... all this made it hard for me to hate him. It made it hard for me not to love him.

As if he had heard my thoughts, de la Mare's eyes flickered open. His voice was full of pain as he remarked, "I feel better..." I reassured him the cysts were draining and that I would not leave him until the poison was out of his body.

With that reassurance, he passed back into unconsciousness. Once the draining was completed, I bound up his wounds. Then I went back to his men and told them their chief was ill that but he would recover. Of course, they did not believe me so I had to take Stephane, his chief servant, to check in on him.

The poor man begged me to allow him to remain by his master's side. Even though I disliked this Stephane intensely, I was impressed by his devotion to his master. So I took a risk and allowed Stephane to tend to him. True to his word, Stephane never left his master's side until he was well enough to be returned to the safe room where the rest of the Normans were lodged.

Three weeks passed with no further sign of the plague. This meant it was safe to reopen the castle. The danger passed: I collapsed from utter exhaustion.

Although I did not break out with the pustules, I had serious bouts of anger and delirium. My thrashing around on the bed was so violent that de la Mare had to tie me up to it... for my own safety. After calling him a string of curse words of both the Norman and Saxon variety, I got more specific in my complaints.

At one point, I shouted, "Damn you, cursed French Norman devil... this pox is a judgment of God that you have brought down on us for wresting this castle from our old Saxon Lord!" Of course, de la Mare could not have caused the illness.

He dipped a cloth into a bowl of water, wrung it out, and moved it over my fevered brow. All de la Mare said was, "Then I pray God shall judge me... and exact His revenge accordingly!" The cool cloth felt wonderful on my forehead... but raging anger still gripped my mind and heart.

"Your words are the right ones but... you Normans always have an answer for everything! Your voice carries no truth in it, de la Mare! You should be heartily ashamed at swearing such a false oath before God!"

I took his silence as an insult. I continued, "Have you nothing to say in your own defense?" I did not really give him a chance to answer me.

"No! There is no defense! Normans just take what they want... they do what they want without caring about who gets hurt along the way!"

Of course, the plague which would have found me whether I was in the castle or not. De la Mare really could not be faulted for the plague visiting the castle or for having been born Norman. Mercifully, I slipped into unconsciousness.

I awoke to find myself lying in my bed at the castle. De la Mare lay beside me, his arm draped over my body. I moved and he awoke. "Are you still with us?"

I said "Yes" in a voice that sounded weak and strained even to me. I was too weak to resist when he kissed me. De la Mare told me how proud he was of how I had taken charge of the castle while it was in the grip of the plague.

De la Mare ran a wet cloth over my aching head. He said softly, "Your brother has come to the castle and he will remain here while you recover. He is taking a meal now. You have been sleeping for more than a week."

"Your mother says that you must rest... and that above all you must not be moved... Your brother will be pleased - as I am - that you have finally awoken from your deep slumber..." I took the cloth from him and took his hands in mine.

"My Lord, please I must beg you to release me from your service." He kissed and then caressed my hands. "You must not speak of such things until you are fully recovered. You must rest more... I shall go and have your mother brought back to the castle to attend to you. Right now, your only job is to get well."

"While you are resting, I would appreciate your working with the scribe you recommended earlier... to help him commit to writing all that you know about running the castle." Since I wanted the castle to continue to be run properly, I agreed. It was the least I could do to honor both my new and old Lords.

"This last week - without your leadership - shows how difficult a job it is... and how much we all rely on you. I think you will find that all the servants will treat you with greater respect from now on... Please, Sauran, help me..."

It was early in July. As long as I was wed by the end of September, all would be well. I agreed to do as he bid knowing this would be the last of his orders.

After I was back on my feet, I arranged my duties so as to see de la Mare as little as possible. There had been extensive damage to the North Tower from an unexpected lightning storm. I had agreed to supervise these repairs as they were progressing since I was the most experienced person for that job.

Of course, I was forced to endure the sniggering of the workers. De la Mare's declaration of love for me as well as our recent physical closeness had not gone unnoticed. It was clear that everyone now thought me to be his whore.

I was thinking this when I slipped on something that had been laying on the pavement. I lost my footing: I stumbled into the new stone wall which crumbled.

I fell off the side of the castle. De la Mare's quick, war-sharpened reflexes enabled him to grab my arm. I dangled in the air for a few moments until he pulled me up to safety. I hit my head on the way up and was knocked out.

I awoke in a darkened chamber... with him hovering over me. My clothes did not "feel right" on me... and I could not help but wonder if he had touched me in ways that he should not have done. Yet I was too full of pain to care about that.

His voice shook as de la Mare began, "I can assure you that I have discovered and punished those responsible for the failure of the wall. I promise that I will better protect you in the future..." I thought this to be an empty promise as I would be leaving the castle - and him - in a few weeks time.

Then he laid his hand on my cheek but I removed it. I said, "I must leave your service soon. You know I am to be wed... as I am practically married already. Even were that not true, I must leave because you are paying me too much attention... in the way that a man pays attention to the woman he desires..."

He smiled and said, "You know I love and desire you, Sauran... as a man desires a woman... I have seen you with the man you are to marry. He never touches you nor you him. During festivals, I have seen many couples holding hands, draping their arms across their lover's shoulder and waist, and touching each other in ways that shows how much they care... but not you and not he..."

I sighed. "I will stay until the end of September as I have promised, my Lord." I should have noticed the untruthfulness in his voice as he said, "At least I will enjoy the summer festival with you as my Chatelaine for the first and last time..."

It did not take me long to recover from my "accident" at the North Tower. By the time I was well enough to walk without dizziness, the castle was feverishly preparing for the summer festival. It was the first time that de la Mare, as lord of the castle could fulfill this role (as last year, he had been too busy to do so).

On the first Sunday in August, this festival was - traditionally - sponsored by the lord of the castle. De la Mare threw himself into fulfilling this role. Although he often consulted the written instructions I had laid out for him... he was anxious for everything to go smoothly... and he often asked for my help and advice.

So, I helped him as much as I could... and was surprised to find him the perfect gentleman... no touching, no "love talk", or other such romantic advances.

These festivals were an enormous amount of physical work, especially for those not used to doing them. I was sad to think that this was the last festival I would ever organize but I was a bit relieved that I would be enjoying it as only a participant in the future. Yet this was part of the cycle of life and I accepted it.

Before I knew it, the feast was well underway. My Lord insisted that all the castle staff sit with him at head table. As the chief servant, I sat next to him. I was a bit nervous and uncomfortable... both at wearing my Sunday best and at not sitting with my family... as I had done at festival in my old Lord's time.

I was surprised that my family was quite proud of this honor... they kept pointing and waving at me... and I kept smiling and waving back. De la Mare took great care to speak to everyone... and so he spent very little time with me. Indeed, he seemed to be avoiding me. I was surprised to be quite hurt by his inattention.

The worst part of the festival was cleaning up. Again, tradition dictated that this was the responsibility of the lord of the castle. De la Mare had been thoughtful: he hired extra help which enabled us to complete the clean up in half the time.

I was making the final inspection of the grounds when he came to escort the servants back to the castle. As was the custom and my duty as Chatelaine, I was responsible for seeing them all settled before I could retire for the night.

Then de la Mare asked me to join him in the main hall. A fire was still burning in the hearth but I became quite nervous when I saw that we were all alone.

At first, we talked about castle matters. Yet the conversation quickly turned to more personal affairs. He said, "I notice that your family did not come up to see you at the head table..." I was about to give him an excuse for their absence when he added, "Other servants' families came to see them..."

I lied, "I asked my family not to come... I knew that I would be too busy..." He persisted, "If I was to be wedded to you, I would have visited the castle each and every day while you were ill to assure myself of your well being. I would have come to the head table to speak with you, even if only for a moment..."

I sighed, "I am so weary, my Lord.... I would beg your leave to retire for the night..." He pulled a chair from the long table and ordered, "Have a seat."

I had no choice but to obey. I was surprised when he asked, "How many contracts have you negotiated with merchants who sell supplies to the castle?"

My body was aching and screaming for sleep. Yet, ever dutiful, I answered, "Two and twenty which are still in force at the present time, more that were since cancelled..." He pulled a chair up beside me and sat down.

"And did you ever take the first offer you got from a merchant?" I shook my head and replied, "Only if I knew it to be an excellent bargain..."

Impatience edged his voice as he asked. "How could you know it to be an excellent bargain? Could it be that you had so much experience with different merchants - having sampled their wares in the past - that you were able to spot excellent bargains accordingly?" I rubbed my eyes and said, "Yes!"

"I see that you are weary... so I shall ask you questions... which require only 'Yes' or 'No' as an answer. Did you ever enter into a contract with a merchant where you did not have good knowledge or experience of the prices and terms of the supplies you were bargaining for?" "No."

"Were you ever tempted to do so?" "No." "Is it because the only way to get a good price and good terms from one merchant is by knowing exactly what his competitors have to offer?" "Yes," I said, unable to suppress a yawn.

"Have you ever regretted taking the time and the trouble to shop around for what you wanted?" "No." "Has not shopping around proven to be a wise and sensible policy?" "Yes." "And the more you wish to spend with a merchant, the more time and trouble that you take, correct?" "Yes."

"And the longer the item is expected to last, the more time, thought, and care you put into acquiring it?" "Yes." "Is this especially true for things that will last a lifetime, like the new fountain in the courtyard?" "Yes."

He stopped his questioning long enough for me to ask, "Why are you asking me about things which are just common sense?" I was quite annoyed by his game.

He smiled, "To prove to you, that you are not being sensible... I have more questions and I do not expect to be interrupted again until you have answered them! So how many men have you taken the time and trouble to know?"

I was indignant, "That is a question I am not obliged to answer..." He retorted, "You will answer it, if you wish to get some sleep this night!"

I gritted my teeth. "I know all the Saxon men in the town."

He continued, "Did you walk out with any except for your fiancé?" "No." "Have you taken any by the hand... in the romantic way except for your fiancé?" "No." "Have you kissed any except for your fiancé?"

I was so angry at this pointless line of questioning that I blurted out, "I have not yet kissed him!" There was a strained moment of silence before he said quietly, "How unlike you to commit yourself to a lifetime purchase without sampling the merchandise first... That does not sound very wise to me, Sauran."

I sighed, "I have known Robert all my life..." He rose and so did I. He took my hand and said softly, "You have given me so much instruction that I must now return the favor." He raised my hand and kissed it gently. "I know not the Saxon manner... but this is how the Normans begin..."

"After he kisses her hand, the man moves closer to the woman like so..." I gasped as he leaned into me. I could feel the warmth and strength of his body against mine. I knew that he could easily have taken me by force.

"Then he looks deeply into her eyes... as I am doing now... Perhaps the man says something to endear himself to his woman... Allow me to demonstrate..."

I was startled as he began, "I am so grateful for all your help, Sauran... not just this evening... but for everything from the first moment of my arrival."

"If I were to thank you for it all, the servants would find me here in the morning still doing so. So it seems to me there is a more practical way to thank you... by advising you... as a friend... of what you need to know... before you are wed..."

His voice was unusually tender. "If I were the one lucky enough to win your heart, I would have come to the castle to attend you while you were ill... I could not have suffered your brother to come in my place. I would have offered to help you with your duties... just so that we could be together."

His eyes sparkled as he said, "I would never have taken my eyes off of you... I would have come to the head table as often as I dared. I would have told you how lovely you looked... and how it stirred me deeply as a man..."

I did not know what to say... so de la Mare continued with his demonstration. "So now I must school you on how a kiss is to be done properly. The man bends down to kiss his woman... very slowly, never taking his eyes off of hers. He does so to put her at her ease... for his sole desire is to please her..."

"As he does so, his arms encircle her body... he pulls her slowly into him. He pauses before their lips meet... He savors the feeling of her soft breasts melting into the hardness of his chest. He moves his hands across her back, caressing it gently. He hopes that she will allow him to pleasure her..."

I should have pulled away but I was weakened by the desire he had stirred in me. His lips gently connected with mine as his arms pulled me even closer.

I should have stopped him. I should have shouted for help. I should have told him to mind his own business. I should have acted like a woman who was engaged and who was to be married very soon.

When de la Mare hooked his arms under my knees and lifted me up, I could not pull away from the sweetness of his lips. He carried me all the way to my bedroom in the castle... kissing me as he went along.

As it was so late, the castle was asleep. I should have been concerned that someone would see us... yet, at that moment, I was really tired and I wanted something for myself. His lips were still on mine as he laid me on my bed.

He pulled away gently and knelt beside me. He took my hand and pressed it to his heart. "You shall not have to enter into marriage... without having a choice... I said that I wanted a Saxon wife... I should have been honest and admitted that I wanted you. Over these next few weeks, I shall lay siege to your heart..."

De la Mare kissed my hand again and left me to get some much needed sleep.

True to his word, de la Mare began his "siege warfare against my betrothal vows" the very next day. After he kissed me, I had become consumed by guilt... so I did my best to avoid him. I kept thinking: "only a few more weeks!"

Since the harvest was near, my duties required me to spend much time in the fields... which meant that I spent little time in the castle.

I had to make sure that the work crews had what they needed, that any problems with equipment were addressed, and that any disputes among the workers were settled. Mostly, I was there to make sure that the people were working... instead of sitting around grumbling (as they were wont to do).

I was making my rounds when suddenly a terrible rainstorm struck. In a matter of moments, I got caught in a flash flood. My clothes were mired in the mud and I was struggling to free myself from the waters rising around me.

I was beginning to panic when, from out of nowhere, de la Mare came to my rescue. He took out his knife and cut the clothes from my body. He had no choice: they were anchoring me down and I would have drowned otherwise.

All that was left was my linen undergarment... which clung to my body like a second skin... leaving nothing to the imagination. De la Mare pulled me out of the flood waters, wrapped me up in his cloak, and got me on his horse.

The rain was coming down so hard that he had to ride quickly to the nearest shelter... an outbuilding that was used for storage. There was no fireplace... so he did the only sensible thing... to keep us both warm and dry.

De la Mare took off his over shirt, stripped off my wet clothes, and dried me off with it. Then he took off his undershirt and insisted that I wear it.

It was still warm from his body heat... and it smelled of him... and it was big and long, covering me from head to toe. All of this - plus his smoldering stare at me for the brief moment I was naked - I found unexpectedly attractive.

From the items in the storeroom, de la Mare fashioned a makeshift bed for us. He ordered me to lie down upon it. Then he lay beside me and covered us both with his big cloak which was still dry on the inside.

"We must keep each other warm lest we catch cold" was his explanation. This was barely audible above the noise of rain pounding on the roof. He was shivering from the cold... and I was trembling from the nearness of his body.

Not only was I never kissed, I was never held like this... never felt a man (who was not my brother) so close to me, let alone to my naked flesh. It took awhile but we warmed each other up. He looked into my eyes before leaning in and kissing me. I should have resisted him but again I melted into his embrace.

Very gently, he opened his undershirt and my naked breasts spilled onto his bare chest. I could feel his heart beating fast inside him as he tenderly slipped his tongue into my mouth. A warm wave of desire rolled through my body as he gently caressed me with his fingertips. I had never before felt this way.

Slowly, he twined his arms around me and pulled me closer to him. Nothing was rushed. Nothing was forced. I thought about pulling away from him... but I kept remembering his argument about the wisdom of learning more about love before I was wed. Yet, I am ashamed to admit it, I wanted to learn from him.

Then I felt his manhood spring to hardness against my leg... I instantly tensed up, fearing the worst. He pressed his lips to my ear and said, "You have nothing to fear from me... Let us draw warmth and comfort from one another. I promise that you will leave this place still a virgin, my precious Sauran..."

De la Mare took my hand and used it to quickly stroke himself into orgasm... so that our kissing and caressing could go on uninterrupted.

I was astonished... I had seen so much of how men and women used one another sexually that mentally and emotionally I was more cynical than the most hard-bitten whore... even though physically I was still a virgin.

I was glad that I could not speak because I was overwhelmed by his voluntary self denial. It touched my heart so deeply that small tears of gratitude and relief gathered at the corners of my eyes. I prayed that he did not notice them.

On the following day, de la Mare could not hide his disappointment when I came into his counting room dressed from head to toe in bulky work clothes... all my hair shoved under a work cap. I could not have been more unattractive. I was cold and overly formal with him. I had to put an end to his advances.

De la Mare had taken my advice and had hired the scribe I recommended. I curtly explained I would need the scribe's services to write down more instructions so that "I would leave the castle in good order - as is my bounden duty to you - before my wedding would end my service to you, my Lord,..."

As I sat with the scribe, I gave him my instructions for the efficient and effective running of the castle. To anyone watching, nothing would have seemed amiss. Yet I kept reliving the moments that de la Mare had kissed and caressed me. To be honest, I could not image Robert Miller doing any of that to me.

Guilt over our "sinful touching" wracked me body and soul. Although I was glad for de la Mare's education in the art of love, I blamed myself for having given into him. No matter how kind or friendly de la Mare had been to me... still I was a Saxon and he was my Norman oppressor. I could never forget that.

That is what I kept focused on... deliberately putting his every loving word and deed out of my heart. De la Mare was so hurt that he left me alone for three days. Then his "siege of my heart" resumed. Since I would not accept any gifts, he confined himself to kind words, gentle touches, and stolen kisses.

Each time he spoke to me of love, I ignored it and focused on my duty to him as a servant. Each time he touched or kissed me, I stood still and did not respond to him. This was very difficult but somehow I managed it.

Now de la Mare's siege of "love warfare" had intensified. He had a contingent of his Norman guards escort me to his private dining room. Of course, he was alone there and, of course, I heard the door locking behind me.

Even by the flickering candlelight, I could a smile spreading over his face. He stood for a moment looking at me. Before I had arrived, Stephane had given me a fine dress and told me that the master had ordered me to wear it. One of the Norman women also saw to the arrangement of my hair.

So, I turned around slowly and said, "You paid for this dress so you might as well see it to full effect." It was then I noticed a dinner table set for two. Since I ran the castle, I had already heard about the fine meal he had prepared for us.

De la Mare clapped his hands and said, "You look lovely, Sauran." I raised my arms and said, "Go on. Take this fine dress from my body. Impose your will upon me. Then let me go." I lowered my arms and continued, "I do not have an appetite for food or for anything else, my Lord. May I go now?"

De la Mare laughed. "You have to eat. Stephane tells me that you have been so occupied with the harvest that you have not eaten yet today. Now that night has fallen and there is a meal before you, there is no harm in eating it..."

I shook my head. "I believe the last time I was in the room... you used my body to satisfy your desires. So, is that why you have ordered all of this?"

De la Mare sighed. "I will not do that again. I have apologized for that so many times... and if one more time will make a difference..."

I laughed. "Why would you apologize for what you are intending to do again?"

There was genuine sadness in his voice as de la Mare answered, "After you are married, I will honor your union and never see you alone again. I just wanted to enjoy your company and conversation for a few more times before you leave me. Please, Sauran, not everything between us has been bad..."

I was not sure that I believed de la Mare. Yet I was hungry and tired... and this lovely meal drew me in. So, I joined him as he asked. We spoke of things that were pleasant and amusing. I must say: he could always make me laugh.

When I felt more at ease, I asked him, "Where you did you get this lovely floral bouquet? It could not have been at the castle as no one here has such skill in arranging flowers. Yet they all do seem to be from the castle gardens..."

"Ah!" he remarked. "Stephane will be pleased that you have admired his work. It was his way of thanking you for saving all our lives during the pox."

I was surprised and, since our time together was short, I asked, "Why do you never refer to Stephane as your servant nor treat him as one?"

De la Mare paused for a moment and answered, "I regard Stephane as my brother even though but he is a distant relation. We grew up together. We were educated together. We fought in all our battles, side by side. No man could ask for a more loyal friend or a better companion than Stephane."

He smiled and added, "I hope that he was not too difficult in bringing you here. If Stephane has one fault - and one fault alone - it is that he is too zealous in my service. Yet, you should know he has a good heart and he always means well."

De la Mare reached over and took my hand, "Whatever you may think, Sauran, I do wish you well. I do mean to do right by you. All I ask from you - in the time remaining - is that you join me here for dinner... as a friend."

I raised my glass and said, "As a friend, I accept, Monsieur de la Mare." He touched my glass with his and we toasted our new agreement.

From then on, each night de la Mare and I shared wonderful meals. I was concerned about their cost but then that was his affair and not mine any longer. Each night there was new floral bouquet by Stephane on the table.

As I drank in the delicious aroma of the flowers, I remarked, "It is well that I am leaving or else Stephane will pick the garden clean of flowers."

That night de la Mare and I had spent most of the evening meal laughing and joking. Since this was the last night, I had agreed to wear his fine dress for the last time. Which reminded me, "Where should I store this dress before I leave tomorrow? Perhaps with the old Saxon Lord's wife's clothes?"

There was sadness in his voice as he replied, "That fine dress is meant for you. I would like you to keep it... it can be an early wedding present if you like."

I rested my hand on top of his and said, as kindly as I could manage, "Thank you, my Lord. That is most kind and generous of you..."

He laid his hand over mine. "My name is Gilbert... please say it just once."

His voice was shaking as asked, "I love you, Sauran, with all my heart. So I ask you - no, I beg you - to marry me. Marry me: not that peasant who is not even fit to wipe your boots. Have you not been happy these last nights as we have dined together? Could we not be happy together for all of the nights to come?"

I was not sure but it seemed tears were gleaming in his eye. I sighed and said, "I will store this dress with the old Saxon Lord's wife's clothes before I leave."

I got up from my chair and walked over to him. He started to rise but I stopped him. I kissed the top of his head and said, "Know that I shall always wish you well, Gilbert. I hope that life brings you all that you desire and more." I turned from him and wondered if he would follow me but he did not.

The day I was to leave for good... de la Mare sent for me in the morning to come to his counting room. I had gone there many times and so I was not worried about meeting him there - for the last time.

When I arrived with the scribe, Stephane and another Norman servant, were waiting for us by the door. He said that I was to go in to meet the master and that he was to escort the scribe to town to copy some important documents.

All this was completely unexpected and I was nervous as they left. I knocked, heard "Enter", but saw no one when I came in. Then I felt arms wrapping around me from behind and a cloth pushed over my face. I quickly passed out.

I awoke to find myself tied hand and foot to the four corners of his bed. I was naked underneath a sheet. I looked up to see him standing by the bed... he too was naked. I was ashamed of myself for admiring his well-built muscular body.

I countered that shame by remarking angrily, "I knew it. You shall demand the right 'de seigneur' after all. The Saxons all were right, they all tried to warn me... that you Normans are all devils... that no matter how kind, generous, and fair you seem... in the end, you shall just take what you want!"

A sad smile spread over his face. "If all I wanted was to take you, I could have done so already. I could do so right now." He pulled back the sheet and slipped in bed beside me. "No one knows you are here... I told the Saxon servants that you have gone to town. It will be hours before you are missed."

He reached over and started fondling my breasts. "I could have taken you a hundred times over when we worked alone in the castle. I thought about it when we sought shelter from the rain in the outbuilding but I thought better of it."

I was fighting the desire his touch was arousing in me. I gritted my teeth and demanded, "What do you want of me?" He replied, "Many things..."

He moved one hand between my legs and started stroking me while keeping the other on my breast. He laid his erect manhood on my thigh.

This was all too much for me... I became deeply aroused... and I gave into the desire and passion he created until intense passion overcame me.

I awoke to find de la Mare gently kissing my lips and caressing my flesh with long, languid strokes of his fingers. I felt as if I was floating on air.

He thrust his tongue deeply into my ear and then whispered. "I want the truth now... why are you marrying that ignorant lump of a peasant?

If I were to have been honest with myself at that moment, I would have admitted that what really attracted me to my fiancé... was that he was weak willed.

I knew that he did not have the "guts" to stop me from being or doing anything I wanted to do or be. What I feared about "the master" is that he was trying to make me over into something I was not... his "Norman" whore. I was a "Saxon" woman and proud of it! Whatever de la Mare was, he was not weak willed.

Since I could not admit the truth, I fell silent as de la Mare said, "Clearly, he has never pleasured you. Ever since I have been here, you have spent more time at the castle than with your family. Even when I have seen you two together... you never talk. Indeed, you seem fonder of your brother than you do of him."

He slipped his fingers into the wetness of my womanhood and thrust them up until he encountered my maidenhead. "He has not taken this. Even many Saxons do not wait until they are wed... Normans do not. Why marry him?"

De la Mare moved his fingers inside my womanhood so gently and skillfully that I was becoming aroused again. He said, "I doubt he has the skills to pleasure you like this..." I could not stop myself from reacting with movements and moans to the exquisite pleasure that his inner exploration was giving me.

"You see that I know how to make you beg me to enter you..." I could not help but cry out at the pure ecstasy de la Mare sent radiating through my body.

A confident smile curled over his lips as he caressed my maidenhead with his fingertips. Another wave of passion shook my body as I climaxed. I heard him say, "Your virginity is mine", before I again passed out from the bliss.

I awoke to find him gently caressing one breast with his tongue and the other with his fingers. He stopped to look me in the eye. "If I took you now, you are too weakened to resist me... you are too filled with love sweat to even feel the piercing of your maidenhead. I could have you now if I really wanted to..."

It took me a moment to ask, "What do you want?" He rolled on top of me and whispered in my ear. "Why do you want him for your husband? Why not me? I can be so much better than him in every way..." It was all I could do to stop from guiding his manhood into me... it was so hard, so close, so inviting.

De la Mare was right: all he had done had filled me with desire for him. I could not stop from pressing my lips against his. When I did, I felt the warm gush of his seed joyously streaming all over my stomach. I passed out again.

I awoke to the sensation of his tongue between my legs and his fingertips on each one of my peaking nipples. I did not think it was possible for so much pleasure to be experienced in so short a time. De la Mare was a skilled lover.

I found myself wondering how I could possibly marry any man but this one. The intensity of my previous orgasms meant it took time for me to build to another climax... so I enjoyed many waves of desire rolling through me. Finally, I felt the intensity of passion searing through me again: I shouted with pure delight.

He again moved on top of me... his swelling manhood tantalizing the exterior of my womanhood. I said weakly, "I cannot resist you... have your will of me. No one believes me to be a virgin anyway. They will blame you and not me..."

I whispered. "It is your right as granted by charter to this castle..." He kissed me and asked, "My dearest, Sauran, marry me?" Although my body ached for him, I answered, "I cannot, my Lord. Take me and then let me go..."

A tear dropped from his eye onto my cheek. Then de la Mare forced the cloth over my face and I passed out. I awoke to the feeling of being on horseback.

I was dressed, de la Mare was riding the horse, and one of his strong arms was holding me in place. As I struggled to regain consciousness, I could see that we were heading for our family farm. I was still very weakened by sexual arousal but I had enough presence of mind to ask him to stop for a moment.

He got right to the point. "You are still a virgin." I got right to the point. "What is to happen now?" His voice shook as he answered, "I am returning you to your family. You are to be married tomorrow. There is no more to be said."

I nodded and said, "So this is the last time we shall talk... as we have been used to doing. I must be frank... and fair with you. I thank you for my education... in the art of love. It has touched my heart... more deeply than my body."

I insisted that we dismount from his horse. I put my fingers to his lips to stop him from kissing me. "There are many reasons why I must go through with my wedding as planned, Gilbert. I know you would not understand or agree with those reasons... so there is little point in my speaking about them."

He held me closer as I said, "Yet, you do deserve to know why I cannot marry you... to put your mind at rest... One day you will come to understand what even the King of England knows... that you are a great man. Being a great man, you need a great woman at your side, one of noble birth, beauty, education, and accomplishment. I am not... and I cannot be that person."

He shook his head and said, "I want you..." I smiled and said, "It is just passion. I have seen it quickly burn out in this cruel world. All that lasts in a coupling is sympathy, understanding, companionship, and sharing of the same way of life. A peasant like me may run a castle but she can never be the mistress of it."

"In five years from now, when we both are married to others and have children by our side, you will thank me for saving you from the folly of a match between a low born Saxon maiden and a great Norman warrior... you will see..."

There were tears in his eyes as de la Mare asked, "If you had not believed yourself to be unworthy of me, if you were a Norman woman of high rank and fortune, would you marry me, Sauran?" I stepped back from him and bowed.

"Know that I wish you every happiness, my Lord." I curtseyed to him. It took all my will to turn away from him and walk back toward my home. Of course, de la Mare had refused to take "No" for an answer. Thus, I began my imprisonment inside the castle which had once been my home.

After two months of my being close confined, all the routines and disciplines I had put into place inside the castle had begun to fall apart.

De la Mare was still at Court. So, Stephane hit upon the novel plan of putting me back into my old job with one huge difference. I was always under guard (which was a good idea) because I was always trying to escape. One of my guards was a young French boy named Francois who never left my side.

Francois was trying to learn English because he did not want to return to France. He was kind and polite but he was my jailor nonetheless.

As the days went by, his sad story poured out of him. The poor boy had lost his parents to a sudden illness. Francois was brought to de la Mare's estate... where the boy was given to him as a servant when he went off to war.

They fought in many battles together... both took their share of damage. In their last battle, the boy was severely wounded by cannon shot that embedded itself in his arm. De la Mare had no choice but to send him to his family's home.

De la Mare's mother (who had the management of his family estate) reluctantly took Francois in as he recovered. Unfortunately, the boy's wounded arm became quite infected... and they had no choice but to eventually amputate it.

As soon as he was able, the boy decided to go to England (along with other Norman servants) to rejoin his master's service. Since Francois was less useful as a servant with just one arm, he was then appointed as my body guard.

Although this boy was kindly, he took his job very seriously. He stopped me from escaping the castle many times. Before he left, de la Mare had taken care to arm his Norman servants and to disarm his Saxon retainers. Indeed, the Normans had grown so cruel to the Saxons that one-by-one, they found new positions outside the castle... leaving me ever more alone and isolated.

I was always looking for ways to escape. More than once, my grand-father had been imprisoned... and he had escaped from them all.

I was fascinated by my grand-father’s tales of all his adventures in his youth... while my brother and sister were bored by them. So, after my old Lord banished my "father" from the farm, my grand-father undertook our education... in the arts of survival. Only I took what he taught with any seriousness.

"Always be on the lookout for an opportunity to escape" was his motto. It was November when I found one. The castle gates were open to admit three carts full of supplies. Francois was talking to one of the other Normans. A horse had pulled itself free from being tied to a rail so that it could eat some grass.

So I dashed for the horse and I quickly mounted it. I then headed for the gate. I was almost there when Stephane used his sword to trip the horse. It fell down, trapping my leg under it. This was intensely painful... and then made worse by the fact that Stephane yanked me out from under the horse... none too gently.

Rather bitterly, he remarked. "I do not know what it is that Gilbert sees in you. It seems to me that you are far more trouble than you are worth!"

Even though my hip and my leg were throbbing with pain as Stephane hoisted me up in his arms, I countered, "Mighty familiar with the master by using his Christian name, I see. Luckily for you, he is still at Court..."

Stephane just ignored this and took me back to de la Mare's bedchamber. He dumped me into the bed and remarked, "Someone will be by later to see to you. I suppose we can do without your services for the next few days!"

With that he left me alone. It was only then that I realized that both my hip and leg were badly injured after I fell from that horse. When I was let out a few days later, I had some difficulty in walking. I knew that until I felt better that I would have to give up my plans for a while. Yet, I knew I would escape: I had to!

It had been a bleak and bitter cold winter. That had turned into a cold and rainy spring. De la Mare had been gone from the castle for almost six months now.

I was still determined to escape my imprisonment. I was ready to return home now that my leg and my hip were healed from my injury. During that time, I had befriended my guard, Francois, hoping that I could convince him to set me free.

It seemed like he was warming up to me. After he had escorted me to my bedchamber prison one night, Francois asked me a very unexpected question.

Very quietly, he inquired, "Why you hate the master much?" I thought about not answering him... but the bitterness in my heart could not be contained.

"You were not here when he did it... but - on my wedding day - your master took me from my fiancé. He brought me to his bed... and as far as the world is concerned, I am his whore! Even though that is absolutely NOT true!"

The poor boy sighed and said, "The master he is a good man. He saved me... and others... There is other side to him... Tomorrow I tell you of it."

The next day there was a heavy snow storm. Since it was so dangerous outside, there was not much to do but to huddle by the fire and tell tales to keep our minds off the cold. Francois, as it happened, loved to tell stories.

At times, he would slip into French and I had to remind him to return to English. In the beginning, I only listened to gain his confidence. Yet, he was a very engaging storyteller... and soon I was listening for my own enjoyment.

The boy told me tale after tale of his time with de la Mare and Stephane in battle. To hear him tell it, the three of them had won every battle single-handedly. In all of these stories, de la Mare had clearly been the leader. Francois praised his quick thinking and his decisive leadership, time and again.

At times, when Stephane passed by us, he smiled (quite a rare sight) at the boy. The affection between the pair seemed very sincere and genuine. I think he was quite protective of Francois because he had lost an arm.

Of course, whenever Stephane looked at me... that smile turned into a glare. As Francois grew to like me, it was clear that Stephane grew even more unhappy. It seemed to me that he was quite jealous of my relationship with both Francois and his master. Annoying Stephane gave me a bit of comfort.

Soon it was planting time. I was still the best one to organize the seeding so I resumed my duties outdoors. Since I had already attempted to escape once, Pierre, the biggest and strongest among the Normans, served as a second bodyguard to me. He had been rendered deaf and mute in battle.

Yet, this Pierre was one of the few Normans who could read and write. He received all his orders from Stephane to whom he was utterly loyal. It was clear that Pierre could not read lips. Stephane had tried again to instruct him over the winter without any success. Although Pierre was not smart, he was strong.

So being with Pierre was like being alone with Francois. By now, we were quite friendly. When we were alone in the field nearest to my family farm, I asked, "Please, Francois. Distract Pierre. I can run into the woods and..."

I was surprised when Francois said, "The master say to me - in French - that he loves you... very much... He made me swear to keep you safe..."

I replied bitterly. "Yes, he has said he loves me but what he has done has made me his whore..." The boy unexpectedly put his arms around me.

He whispered in my ear, "The master returns tomorrow. Ask him to set you free. I think he will not keep you as prisoner forever."

With that, Francois, Pierre, and I returned to our work. I prayed very hard that night to the Holy Virgin to take pity on me and - somehow - to help me escape.

When de la Mare returned from the English Court, he brought more Norman servants with him. His plan was to allow these Normans to settle in an empty field on the estate hard by the castle. This way he would be less dependent upon the Saxons who still hated him despite his many kindnesses to them.

This also meant that de la Mare now had a rotating series of guards watching me all the time. One night, he was up late playing cards in the main hall with friends visiting from France. I could hear the guard outside my door snoring. Since it was warm and pleasant night, I decided it was time to escape.

I opened the lock, tiptoed past the guard, and went up to the roof. I could not risk leaving by the front gate as it was too heavily patrolled. I had stolen a rope and my plan was to lower myself down by the far wall and slip out the back. I knew the patterns of castle patrols and I was certain I could leave unnoticed.

Three quarters of the way down the rope snapped. I fell and scrambled to position myself so that I would not be so badly injured when I hit the stone pavement. Instead, I fell into the waiting arms of de la Mare. His breath stank of ale as he planted an unwanted - but extremely passionate - kiss on my lips.

"My lady Sauran, you never cease to amaze me. Just when I think I have adequately attended to our defenses, you find another thing I have overlooked. Climbing down the castle wall in the middle of the night? What other woman would even conceive of such a thing let alone do it?! Who else would have the bravery, the audacity, the cleverness? You are truly magnificent!"

Tears of frustration gathered in my eyes as he carried me into the main hall. He lifted me up and cried, "Gentleman, you have yet to meet the most beautiful and courageous woman in all of England! Nay! In all of the world!"

They laughed and hoisted up their mugs. De la Mare excused himself and carried me upstairs. I could hear the howls of the men in the hall almost up to his bedchamber. Mercifully, there was silence once the door was shut.

I braced myself for de la Mare's wrath but he merely laid me down on the bed. I could hear that Stephane was placing a new guard outside the door... and I could only shudder to think what would happen to the guards who had not stopped me from escaping. Yet I had to focus on the threat now at hand.

I had to keep on reminding myself that all the guards - and indeed everyone in the castle (including my remaining Saxon servants) - were my jailors. More importantly, I had to remember who was the cause of my imprisonment.

It was the man who even now had thrust his cold hands inside my warm bodice and was greedily fondling my naked breasts. It was the master who "loved" me.

De la Mare's voice was slurred by drink as he said, "When I saw you climbing down the castle wall, I wanted you even more than I ever have before. Then when you fell, my heart nearly stopped beating in my chest. You were lucky that I was not too far drunk to come to your aid..."

Although his touch stirred deep desires in me, I could not help but say, "You would have done better to let me fall... it would have put an end to both our miseries!" De la Mare was clearly angered by my remark.

"Misery? Woman, you are the most cursed shrew at times! Best for me to put you in your place!" He thrust his tongue down my throat and forced his hand between my legs. I braced myself to be raped. I was certain it would happen. After all this time, surely now, I would fall victim to his right de seigneur.

Instead de la Mare furiously stroked me... to enflame my passion against my will. I struggled at first but waves of desire rolled through my body. I found myself completely unable to resist his erotic touch... until at last, intense passion overcame me... and pushed me into blissful unconsciousness.

When I awoke the next morning, de la Mare was kissing me and cradling me in his arms. His first words were, "What do you want from me?" I touched his cheek and replied, "I want the one thing you will not give me, my freedom."

"If the price of my liberty is the loss of my maidenhead, then I am prepared to pay it. Take what you will of me... then let me go. I can never willingly give myself to a man who is my jailor... I want to go home: I beg you to release me."

"Today I have been your prisoner since last September... it is now the first of May. It has been nine months. Will you keep me here forever? If you do, I give you fair warning... I will never stop trying to escape this place. I would rather die than be a prisoner. I will not be anyone’s slave…”

“Francois told me that you said you loved me... "You have said it to me yourself. If you truly love me... if you have been my friend... if you care for me even in the slightest... then you must set me free. I will try again to leave this place... Next time, you may not be there to catch me when I fall... next time, I may die..."

De la Mare leaned over and gave me a deep gentle kiss on the lips. He took a deep breath and replied, "Freedom to go where? Freedom to do what? If only you could understand, Sauran, that you are at home here in this castle with me... and that the home you think you have no longer exists..."

I was terrified, "My family are dead... is that what you are telling me?" He shook his head and replied, "They are all alive and well..."

I sighed and said, "Then what do you mean?" He put his fingers to my lips and said cryptically, "You shall see... Go home. I shall not stop you..."

De la Mare stood watching me as the cart full of vegetables pulled away from the castle. I kept looking behind me to see if he or any of the Normans were following me. Yet it seemed that I was, in fact, free to go my own way.

I was relieved to be out of my prison. Yet I was saddened to find that I missed de la Mare. It was strange to feel that I would never live in the castle again. As we moved closer to my family farm, memories of de la Mare filled my mind. I wondered why, yet at the same time, I was impatient to return to my family.

Oddly the cart was being driven by one of the last Saxons left working at the castle. This man had lost his tongue as part of a punishment he had received in his youth. So, he could not answer any of the questions that filled my mind.

He stopped at the fork in the road which led to my family farm. I jumped off the cart. He drove away without looking back at me. It all seemed too easy but I kept on going. Soon I was on my home ground and I was over-joyed.

The farm was intact... and everyone, except for my sister, was there working in the fields. I ran toward them... I reached my mother first and embraced her.

Although she returned my hug, I knew that something was wrong. I turned around and saw de la Mare riding toward us on horseback. When I looked back, I saw my brother and my fiancé come rushing toward my mother and I.

As he dismounted, de la Mare broke the awkward silence by saying, "Each and every day Sauran tried her best to escape and return to you. First, she injured her leg after falling from a horse. My servants told me that she could hardly walk without pain for weeks but, pridefully, she worked through it."

"Next, had I not caught her, she would have broken her neck after climbing down the wall last night. All to come home to people who have betrayed her."

My family was too frightened to reply. Yet, after so many months in the castle, I had lost my "natural fear" of speaking with the master.

I was furious. "How dare you, de la Mare?" He snapped back, "How dare they? They did not come once to the castle to ask after you. Nor did they even send a note to ask after you..." I snapped, "They cannot read or write..."

He retorted, "They know people who do write. Failing that, why did they never question any of the servants from the castle to see how you were faring?"

I gritted my teeth to control my anger. "Because they were afraid to do so... just as they are too afraid now to stand up for themselves! They do not have a squadron of armed Norman retainers at their beck and call as you do!"

My rage had gotten the better of my judgment. "They risk you burning this farm to the ground should they dare to speak out against you! They have not been careless of their lives these last years... so they fear death like most people!"

De la Mare now gritted his teeth. "The only thing they have to fear... is you finding out the truth!" I laughed. "What might 'the truth' be?"

In a calm and ominous tone, he answered. "That they do not want you back. Even now, why are they not hugging and kissing you? Why are they not glad of your freedom? Why are they not welcoming you back home with open arms? There is quite a simple answer to this complex problem in logic!"

Our argument had drawn my sister into the yard. De la Mare continued, "If you look more closely at your younger sister you shall see this answer for yourself. That is... if she will lower the blanket she is holding that hides her swelling belly from your sight! Your Robert loves her now and not you!"

I stopped for a moment. I was afraid to turn from de la Mare and look upon my sister. I could feel the truth of his words by looking into my mother's face. She could not even look me in the eye. My mother put her hand over her eyes as she had often done after father had beaten her... to hide her shame.

I knew that my sister and my brother would not have hesitated to betray me. Yet my mother's participation in this was like a dagger to my heart. So, I turned to face my sister who did as she was bid by de la Mare.

I saw for myself that my sister was heavily pregnant. My former fiancé, Robert, put his arm around her... and I knew at once that he had become her husband. Worse, judging by her size, it was quite clear that they had not waited very long after I was kidnapped... to fall into one another's arms.

Shocked, my knees gave way underneath me. De la Mare rushed to my side and he lifted me up. I waited for an explanation from my family but they all merely looked at the ground. In a way, I already knew what had happened. My new brother-in-law had grown up in a family where he had been regularly beaten. One of his goals in marrying me was to escape them.

My younger sister always had a crush on "my" Robert My mother was getting older and she was not able to keep up with all the farm work. My brother was aging prematurely from doing more than his share... and from drinking.

I had been working at the castle to get money for supplies and repairs to the farm. My capture (and the stoppage of my wages) had been hard on them.

They all needed someone else to take up the slack... who better to do that than my former fiancé who was already practically a member of the family.

Gilbert - for I could no longer think of him as de la Mare - looked me in the eye. "Will you come home now, Sauran? Will you come of your own free will? Will you come knowing that the guards will only see to your safety from now on?"

"I do not care to be your jailor for one moment longer. You may come to the castle and sleep where you please and fill any role that you like..."

I said, "Please set me down." He did. Gilbert seemed defeated as he quickly mounted his horse. I reached my arms toward him. He was surprised when I said, "Please help me up." He was stunned as I mounted beside him.

I faced my family and said, "I wish you all well... although I shall never see you more..." I whispered in his ear, "Gilbert, let's go home to the castle!"

I wish I could say that once Gilbert took me back to the castle (which was now my home) that I simply melted into his arms... and we lived happily ever after. Life is never as uncomplicated as that... as I knew all too well.

Of course, it was quite unrealistic for me to "choose any role" that I cared to. Of course, I had to become Gilbert's wife if I no longer wanted to be thought of as his whore. Had not the Bible been clear? A woman could choose to be either a whore like Mary Magdalene or a mother like the Virgin Mary.

Indeed, I felt quite ashamed of myself: Gilbert had rescued me from a man who could not be faithful to me and from a family who did not appreciate me. Even though Gilbert was far from perfect, he had consistently shown his love for me.

Both our lives centered on the castle and it was up to us to make it a home. I held him tightly as we rode back to what was now my home. I felt light and free for the first time in months. I was surprised that I was not at all sad about what my sister and her husband had done... in fact, I was relieved to be rid of them.

While he was overjoyed at the prospect of marrying me, I was not quite ready... for the greater role. In marrying Gilbert, I would not just be his wife but I would be lady of the manor... a rich person... that I had been taught all my life to hate.

Yet God had made his plan for me very clear. All the desire Gilbert had stirred inside me... all his many kindnesses to me... all of his obvious passion for me... made me surrender to the love for him that had slowly grown inside me.

When we arrived at the castle, he dismounted first. He turned to help me off the horse and I slid into his arms. I kissed him very passionately... and now I did not care who saw us. He was quite pleasantly surprised by this.

Of course, there was work to do... and we soon returned to that. Yet now I was free of my bodyguards... and did my work on my terms… in my own home.

That night we were both supremely happy. After completing that day's work, we retired to our bedchamber. This time our lips were glued together before we even reached Gilbert's bedroom door. Our hands stripped the clothes from our bodies until we were as naked as Adam and Eve. We fell into bed together.

I opened my legs and whispered, "Take me... now!" His hardened manhood was even then teasing the outside of my legs and my belly. He plunged his tongue inside me and then... he again made "false love" to me, ejaculating between my buttocks instead of inside my body.

Yet he pleasured me in every other way... and I was fully satisfied by the time he climaxed. At that moment, a single word escaped my lips: "why?"

Gilbert's voice was slurred by sexual contentment as he replied, "I told you that we shall be married in the church... and we cannot do that unless you are proved to be a virgin. I'll not spoil you... any more than I already have."

I was astonished and said, "Even if we started tomorrow, it would take a full six months for the bans to be published... do you really want to wait that long?"

He replied with a yawn. "I sent word to the priest after we returned home that I want the full nine months to go by before we are wed... I'll not have you called a whore or our child called a bastard. 'Tis a small price to pay for a lifetime of happiness. I'll not do otherwise..." Then my darling Gilbert fell asleep. I was surprised to feel annoyed by the prospect of nine more months as a virgin!

I could not fall asleep. So, I watched Gilbert by the firelight as he slept. Was it just last night that I had been his prisoner? Now I was to be his wife... it was quite the unexpected turn of events. I had never thought I could be anything but a Saxon... and now I was to be a Norman because I would marry one.

Indeed, I loved Gilbert with a greater intensity than I had ever hated him. So, I gave thanks to God: if this was not a miracle, I knew not what a miracle was.

I knew that those next few months would not be easy but I had not expected the Saxon servants to retaliate against me so soon. They set me up to slip and fall into the mud. There had been a heavy rain and a pool of mud had formed where I was not expecting it. They had covered the hole with straw... and I fell into it! They all laughed and repeated "Norman whore!" over and over again.

Being covered in mud was more damaging to my pride than anything else. Everyone who saw me muddied found it to be very funny. I got up. I just sailed by and ignored them. I took a dip in the pond outside the castle to get the worst of the mud off me before returning to our bedroom to change.

Of course, all of my clothes were - mysteriously - gone to the laundry... one of the few times the Saxons and Normans had actually worked together. There were no clothes in the bedroom... except for those belonging to Gilbert.

I felt a warm wave of happiness roll through me as I slipped on his large shirt. It clung to my slightly wet body and was a bit tight across my breasts. I could not resist trying on his pants. I had to cinch the rope tightly to keep them on.

I was so intent on doing all this that I did not notice that Gilbert had entered our room. He cleared his throat. I looked up quickly. That was enough to knock the cap from my hair causing it to spill on my shoulders and my back.

He smiled. "My clothes suit you!" He strode across the room and took me in his arms. As he leaned down to kiss me, he said, "You look so beautiful!" Then he gently slipped his tongue in my mouth and we kissed one another tenderly.

Once he released me, he insisted on braiding my hair again. I was surprised to see that Gilbert was quite good at it. He remarked, "I love the sight of your flaxen hair... maybe you should not bury it all under your cap..."

I sighed. "How do you expect me to get any work done that way?" Gilbert started undoing my braid and kissing me on the neck. His answer was, "I don't..." He then eased me onto the bed while he kept kissing me.

After so long without a woman in his bed, I should not have been surprised that Gilbert was so amorous. So, I let him have his will of me... hoping that he would change his mind about taking me... but he did not. Still he made me happy.

The very next day we discovered that the meat we had been preserving was definitely tainted by the pox (the animals must have been carriers). No one wanted to risk another outbreak so all the meat was destroyed. Gilbert and his men had no choice but to hunt again to replenish our stock of cured meat.

I was the mistress of the castle once again... with one important difference. I no longer had the respect of any one working there.

The "Normans" once openly rude... after the pox struck... were respectful but silent... as I was still the "Saxon bitch" who had killed one of their own. The "Saxons" once very supportive... were neither silent nor respectful. After Gilbert had left the castle, they made their disapproval of our engagement clear.

It was the usual morning meeting where the day's work was being discussed when one of the Saxons interrupted me. "So now you are well and truly his whore, are you? Think you are better than the rest of us now, don't you?"

Then the servants assembled broke into a general discussion in which more blunt accusations were made. I confess to being very angry. I had helped to improve the lives of all the Saxon servants in the castle by giving them both wages and employment that were far better than any in the town.

One of the men, Cameron (a friend of Geoffrey who had been banished for wounding Tim with the cart) grabbed me and planted a slobbery kiss on my lips. This caused some of the assembled servants to clap and cheer.

I stamped on Cameron's foot, kneed him in the groin, and he doubled over from the pain. Suddenly the cheering stopped. I forced Cameron's head down on my knee with balled up fists, smashing his nose along the way.

As Cameron fell to the ground, blood gushed from his face. I shouted, "Have all of you forgotten that my grand-father was the best fighter in town? He taught me everything he knew about fighting back! Any other questions?"

The courtyard fell silent except for the grunts of the injured man. I continued, "Let us get one thing clear. I am no longer the master's prisoner."

I looked all around me, "Those of you who even bother to attend church, will see that the bans of our marriage have already been published. Nine months from next Sunday I shall marry the master and I will be right glad of it."

"I would marry him tomorrow but he is so concerned with the clattering tongues of small minds like yours that he insists on waiting... to preserve his honor and my own. At least, if you wish to gossip, you now have the facts straight. If you desire to keep your place at this castle, I suggest you get back to work!"

Several weeks later, my dear Gilbert and his party returned... with enough meat to feed the castle for the next year. Putting up that meat took everyone all day and well into the night... and we both fell into bed and slept instantly.

I awoke to Gilbert kissing my peaking breasts and caressing my naked flesh. I tried to talk but he thrust his tongue down my mouth. His body suddenly convulsed with a lengthy but premature ejaculation... all over my clean sheets!

This was so unlike him... Gilbert was always under control in every situation... and especially in the bedroom. I should have been flattered but stupidly I remarked, "I just laundered these sheets!" Thankfully, he ignored it.

Gilbert instantly returned to a state of sexual arousal. He looked deeply into my eyes, "I am told you said publicly, while I was gone, that you were 'right glad' to marry me. Is it true? Did you say it?" The word "Yes" barely escaped my lips when he kissed me with a passion that almost drew the air from my lungs.

When he finally released me, Gilbert demanded I say it again. "I am right glad to marry you..." He mounted me and said "again" and so I repeated it.

The joy this brought him resulted in him pleasuring me with more vigor and passion than ever before... even though it ended in more "false lovemaking"... five times that night! How I longed to lose my virginity to Gilbert.

I was so blissful the next day that I could not keep a sex soaked smile off my face. This only made Gilbert more passionate in the bedroom for the nights to come. This only made me long for "real lovemaking" even more.

Yet those seven little words "I am right glad to marry you" made the time until we were wed pass pleasantly. Often when we would cross paths, he would demand "say the words" and I would willingly obey.

Then we would both enjoy a passionate kiss... it got to be a game. Yet that game had an important prize... it made me feel safe and cherished... it made him feel harmony and love. If I had any doubts about him... they were gone.

It did not take long for Gilbert to discover that - not only had I declared my love for him while he was away - I had been attacked while doing so.

So that very day, Francois, the servant boy, who had been my jailor, was once again assigned to be my shadow. I did not mind as I had grown genuinely fond of the boy. I did my best to shield him from the cruelties of our Saxon servants.

He responded to my kindness by working extra hard for us. By then, it brought me pleasure to hear the boy tell me tale after tale of his master's kindness and bravery. Also, this boy, Francois, was quite discreet. When he saw that Gilbert was intent on stealing a kiss from me, he quickly moved out of the way.

One day I was in the main healing room. There had been a surgery earlier and all the bottles and instruments were in complete disarray as a result. Francois had been helping me clean up... when suddenly he scurried out of the room.

So when I felt a pair of arms around my waist, I knew at once that it was Gilbert. He had crept up behind me. He pulled me closer and began to kiss my neck playfully. I pretended to be annoyed... but I was not!

"This room will not clean itself," I began unconvincingly. I continued cleaning the empty medicine bottle as he ran his fingers under my cap and into my hair.

His breath was hot on my neck when he whispered naughty words in the French language into my ear. I understood his meaning well enough.

So, I remarked, "If you want to handle the goods, you should purchase them first, Monsieur de la Mare!" Gilbert responded by fondling my breasts.

Gilbert's voice was heavy arousal when he replied, "I fully intend to 'purchase the goods' in several months time as I have promised! Until then, will you not extend me some credit, my dearest, loveliest Sauran?"

After we had kissed and caressed for a while, on the recovery bed no less, Gilbert and I had settled into a contented silence. He had climaxed inside his shorts... and, oddly, seemed to be enjoying the sensation of his own seed.

So, I said softly. "We could travel to the next town and be wed in secret at first. Then we could couple often in the nights to come... to keep each other warm." I slipped my hand inside shirt and started gently caressing his chest. This made Gilbert moan with delight. Next, I worked my way to his wet "manly organs" which made him shake and shudder with passion.

I whispered in his ear, "We do not need to wait for the blessing of the Saxon church... love me now... I long for you, my dearest..." He purred as I stroked him back into an erection. When he rolled on top of me, I was sure that he would make love to me. A few more moments of passionate kissing and caressing convinced me that the divine moment had at last arrived.

Gilbert said, "I long for you, Sauran. Yet I love you more. I love you enough to respect you... and to see you come to our marriage bed a virgin... it shall be so!"

Now it was Gilbert's turn to pleasure me. He thrust his fingers between my legs and started stroking me furiously. He ripped the laces from my bodice with his other hand and caressed my breasts tenderly. Soon my desire peaked and my clothes became as wet with love sweat as his were.

I offered no resistance as he picked me up off the recovery bed. He carried me by the back stairs up to our bed chamber. Fortunately, Francois had used his temporary freedom to get something to eat. The other servants were about their business... so no one saw him taking me to our bedchamber.

His hands made quick work of my remaining clothes... until I was as naked as Eve. Surely, I thought Gilbert would change his mind. His hand and his tongue seemed to be everywhere. So, I surrendered to him pleasuring me... until, at length, my poor body passed into blissful unconsciousness.

When I awoke, Gilbert decreed that we spend the rest of the day in bed. Yet we both had work to do. So, we compromised and retired to bed earlier than usual. As I brushed my hair, I could hear the fire sparking very loudly.

I turned to see Gilbert stoking the bedroom fireplace with all my clothes! I could hardly believe it. Clothes that I had worn, cared for, and repaired for years!

I had loved my three outfits: two sets of workaday clothes and a set of Sunday finest. These were now just piles of rags burning in the fireplace.

I was outraged... Gilbert let my angry torrent of words flow as he pushed the clothing further into the fire with the poker. Once I had calmed down, he remarked, rather bitterly, "This should have been done a long time ago!"

I was surprised when he continued, "If you had been willing to accept more than just wages from me, then you would have had suitable clothing before now. No, you had to give all of your wages to your family... and keep nothing for yourself!"

I pulled the sheet up over me. "Now I have no clothing... unless you will allow me to use this sheet to serve as my under garments!"

Gilbert set down the poker and got back into bed with me. "As tempting as that sounds, I have arranged for dressmakers to come to the castle tomorrow..." He stripped the last of my clothes from me... despite my resistance.

This did not nothing to calm my anger. "You must really stop treating me like a servant, Monsieur de la Mare! I DO have choices you know! Why just the other day, the grain merchant offered me employment as his store manager. He was not the only one... other Saxon merchants - who fear that I am still being held here as hostage against my will - have made me similar offers..."

Gilbert gently kissed my lips. He slowly moved my head back down on to the pillow. Then he pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, "Must I live in fear of every merchant in this town? Or perhaps of every merchant in England?"

He moved his hand over my breast and caressed it until I was aroused. I could barely get out, "I am just saying that I have a choice..."

His breath was warm against my cheek as Gilbert pleaded. "Of course, you do... I just ask you to choose me now... and for the rest of our lives..."

Gilbert would not stop caressing me until my anger had cooled. He laid his head upon my shoulder and said, "You have got it wrong - for once. It is I who am your servant... and hope to be so for the rest of our lives." With that, he drifted into a sound sleep. After that, I was not long in joining him.

The very next day a small army of dressmakers with wagon loads of cloth arrived at the castle. I was getting new clothes, like it or not!

What was worse is that Gilbert would not leave me free to choose my new outfits. Instead, he was instructing the dressmakers to create outfits that were... sexually provocative to him... rather than what I actually wanted.

What I actually wanted was better versions of the clothes that were now but ashes in the fireplace. Two sets of work clothes and a fine Sunday dress were all I really needed. I had lived that way for years... and I saw no need to change my ways. Saxons cared not for finery as much as the Normans did.

It was bad enough I had to wear Gilbert's clothes - that were far too big for me - for the fitting. It was unendurable that I could not be left to choose my own outfits. Most women were at least free... in the choosing of their own clothes.

I could not help but burst out, "Monsieur de la Mare, you said you did not want me being called a whore! Yet if I were to wear what you would choose for me... the whole world would call me one... and be quite correct in doing so!"

"These colors are too bright! These fabrics are too fine! These styles are too tight fitting on the body! How could I get a moment's work done in any such garments?! How dare you destroy all my good work clothes?!!"

Gilbert's response to this was to hoist me up bodily and tell the astonished dressmakers to take their ease and that we would return in an hour's time. I could hear them laughing as he carried me away.

I could hear the stories that would be circulating in both town and castle over this incident. This just added to the anger that I was feeling over all this.

Gilbert took me to our bedchamber and dumped me on the bed. Then he lay beside me and started playing with my breasts (since his shirt was too big for me that was not at all difficult for him to do!).

"What other woman," he mused, "would possibly object to receiving all new clothes? Do you fear to enflame the passions of every man who sees you if you were to dare to really look like a woman? Your figure is so fine that I would like to see it flattered by clothes... instead of being buried underneath them!"

This just made me more furious. "Is that how it works among the nobility? Dressing up women to be no better than common whores? Saxons would never do such a thing... they... we... I... consider it to be indecent."

Gilbert kissed my naked breasts. "You mistake me. I would not... I will not share you with anyone. You are mine, Sauran, and I will kill any man that dares to disrespect the sanctity of our love. I just want to see the inward beauty of your heart outwardly reflected in your clothes. Is that so wrong of me?"

I shook my head. "I just do not 'feel like myself' in such fine clothes... Besides it is I who must wear the clothes all day every day and not you..."

Gilbert laughed. "Well it is I who have to look at them and not you!" Indeed, he was quite stimulated by what he saw while I was stimulated by what I heard.

So, before the hour had passed, we compromised and agreed on attire that was finer than my old work clothes but not "too fine" to cause me discomfort. I had to gradually work up my way up to clothes that were "befitting the lady of the manor" (which, believe me, Gilbert was none too pleased about).

Yet I did allow him to have some dresses created for me that were for our private use... and that seemed to satisfy him. I agreed to wear those dresses in our bedchamber whenever he called for them but not out in public.

The following week there was more cause for Gilbert's displeasure. I had decided - despite the fact that some of the Saxons were bound to protest - to attend the semi-annual "Day of the Dead" gathering which was my birthright.

This gathering was held twice a year: after planting (June) and then later after harvest (October). These were the only holy days that came from ancient times (and so were not at all sanctioned by or approved by the Catholic Church).

On this day, rain or shine, every Saxon would attend this ceremony in which they would honor deceased loved ones. For those who practiced the full custom, a speech would be made about the dearly departed. This could take hours depending on how many attended as well as how long they spoke.

That year it rained the week before and after the "Day of the Dead" but not on that day which was clear. Of course, we Saxons knew this was a sure sign of God's will in action. As much as my engagement to Gilbert frustrated the Saxons, I knew their reverence for the ceremony would allow me to participate. I had been born a Saxon and that was all that was required for me to attend.

Gilbert was frustrated by the fact that during the ceremony all work ceased. He was furious when he could not bribe a single Saxon worker to help him during this sacred holiday. Nor could he persuade me not to attend the ritual.

Rather bitterly he argued, "You do know that your family will be there!" I smiled, "Have you changed your mind about coming with me?"

This was but a joke. Normans were strictly forbidden to attend the ceremony. Not even my poor boy Francois could be allowed to accompany me.

This year Gilbert feared for my safety so he repeated his arguments against it in the strongest possible way. He would say things like "it's morbid", "it's a waste of time to worry about the dead when the living have so much work to do", "the speeches are dull and boring and the dead cannot appreciate them anyway..."

I would never have admitted it to him but there was some truth to this. Yet I found it to be a comforting custom... remembering those who you loved... knowing that one day you too would be remembered in this same caring way.

So off I went. Poor Francois took it into his head to follow me anyway. I was fortunate that the Saxon guarding the ritual took pity on him: they did not harm him. They merely asked Francois to return back to the castle without delay.

Both Francois and Gilbert were waiting for me at the gate upon my return. As soon as he saw me, Gilbert ran toward me and flung his arms around me.

I asked, "The Saxon guards did not hurt our poor Francois, did they?" Gilbert kissed me and said "No" much to my great relief. He then asked me, "Did you see your family while you were there, Sauran?"

I smiled and caressed his check, "I am looking at my family, Gilbert. You are my only true family now." He was touched and he kissed my hand.

He sighed, "I meant your mother, your brother, and your sister." Now that he and I were to be wed, Gilbert felt bad for his part in detaching me from my family. For my part, I was grateful that he had shown me who they really were.

I shook my head. "They were all in attendance. We all spoke about grand-father. My mother's father, my grand-father, had been particularly kind to all of us. When my father left, when I was very little, my grand-father took his place... indeed he was a father to me... It gave me comfort to remember him."

"I also spoke about old William as well as our old Saxon Lord. I might remind you that this day is about those who have passed. It is strictly forbidden to speak of anything else but the dead, especially family arguments."

Gilbert embraced me... and we did not speak further about my Saxon family. There was nothing I wished to say about them. Their betrayal of me was still fresh in my mind and in my heart. I did not tell him but my mother had tried to approach me after the ceremony had ended. It had not gone well.

Her words still rang in my ears. "If you turn your back on me, you will have a daughter who will turn her back on you. Mark my words, Sauran!"

The week following the "Day of the Dead" ceremony, our Francois got a black eye whilst in a fist fight with a Saxon servant. The poor boy was defending my honor after that Saxon, in his hearing, had called me a Norman whore.

By this time, there were only a few Saxon servants left working at the castle. These few remained only because the pay, the food, and the working conditions were better at the castle than those they could find in the town.

This also meant that our castle was now being run under Norman law and custom. So, Gilbert decreed that the Saxon servant who had fought with and hurt Francois would "shaved" as punishment for starting the fight.

I was as disgusted by the Norman custom of "Shaving the Soldier" as Gilbert was by the Saxon "Day of the Dead" ritual.

"Shaving" was done to punish insubordination among soldiers, servants, and other subservient individuals. If a Norman was "found guilty" of some offense - even an honest mistake, an unintentional error, or a stupid slip of the tongue - they could and would be punished by having their head shaved.

This shaving was no kindly cut by the barber while pleasantly chatting. It involved the offender getting their head shoved back and forth under water while their hair was lopped off haphazardly with a razor.

I would say things like "it's needlessly cruel", "it leads to runny noses if done when the temperature is too cold", "the person has to live with the shame of their mistake until their hair finally grows back..."

In his defense, Gilbert employed it only when there was a serious offense involved. Yet he thought it was an effective practice... and many did think twice before risking getting their head shaved (especially the Norman women).

To his credit, Francois pleaded with his master to employ a lesser punishment but Gilbert would not be persuaded. The "shaving" was conducted according to the Norman custom. Then the hairless Saxon was dismissed from the castle.

Now that the last of the Saxons had left our service, the Normans who remained - both those living in the castle and those who settled around it - began to relax and to become a close knit community. Both English and French were spoken by all. I tried my best to speak French but I never quite mastered it.

It turned out that Gilbert became quite amorous whenever I spoke French. He would reward me with sweet kisses and caresses whenever I got things right. I had wanted to learn French because - since all the servants were now Normans - it was just easier to give commands in French rather than in English.

In preparation for our upcoming wedding, Gilbert had rebuilt the master bed so that there was plenty of room for spirited lovemaking. I was happy to let him take his time in doing this... because while the construction was in progress, we slept in a much smaller bed... where we were squeezed together.

Our building plans soon expanded to include a church for the Normans within the castle grounds. Increasingly, Normans were not welcome in the Saxon church... which was slowly being rebuilt at the same time.

Building on both churches were halted by a freak hail storm. Giant balls of ice pummeled the roof of the castle. Fortunately, the castle was well stocked with food and wood so we were all as comfortable inside as we could be.

Yet the roof of the castle was taking an unaccustomed beating. We could hear the sounds of the ice bouncing off the roof and then the shattering of tiles.

The hail had collapsed a portion of the roof and it was piling up inside the castle. So everyone had to pitch in and help to close up the roof as soon as possible.

The men gathered up the hail while the women stored it in the icehouse. Since Gilbert had built a passageway between the castle and the icehouse, the women could go there in complete safety and store the ice.

Unfortunately, the Norman men suffered by being hit by the hail. A few were knocked unconscious after being hit in the head. Stephane saw that they were carried into a nearby room as Gilbert and the rest of the men gathered the hail. I attended to the wounded men and bound their wounds as best I could.

At length, the hail storm died down. Before night fell, it was essential to close up the roof. Gilbert, Stephane, and some of the other men had gone to bring more tiles from the storage room to where the roof was being repaired.

Our dear Francois - contrary to my orders - had chosen to work beside the stone masons repairing the roof, where he slipped. If he had two arms, he might have hung on until others could help him... but he fell to the pavement.

When I saw the pool of blood around the boy's head and his frozen glassy eyes, I knew at once that he was dead. I ran to his side and picked up his broken body. I began to cry uncontrollably over Francois as I brought him inside.

It really bothered the Norman servants that I, who was so calm and controlled, was acting so uncharacteristically. I brought Francois into the quiet healing room which was empty (as there was so little activity at the time).

I laid him on the table. I pulled a chair beside him, took his hand, and wept. I was crying not just for Francois but for Tim, my little helper, who had died in the plague. There was no time to mourn for Tim then... but there was plenty of time for me to mourn them both now. So, I gave full vent to my grief.

At that moment, I felt keenly that now both Gilbert and I were truly alone... he because his wealth and his foreign background permanently branded him as an outsider... me because I was unwilling to beg my family's forgiveness (or that of the Saxon community) for what was not my fault: my love for him.

I am not sure how much time had gone by... before Gilbert found me with Francois. Gilbert gently took my hand from Francois.

He carried me to our bedchamber and asked me to explain what had happened to the boy "if you are able..." as he had been elsewhere at that time.

Between sobs, I told him what happened. With a shaking voice, he related his own memories about the boy. Then we both cried together... he held me in his arms... for the rest of the day until exhaustion forced me to sleep.

When we awoke the next day, Gilbert stroked my hair and said, "We shall marry this month and not wait until January. There is no need to wait those extra months. Your slim figure will convince everyone that you were not with child before we were married. I know that this is what Francois would have wanted."

This set me on a fresh bout of weeping. Indeed, I was still crying at Francois' funeral. Although it was even against Norman tradition, Gilbert held me while I sobbed. I buried my face in his chest so that any "Saxon spies" at the funeral would not report my grief over a "Norman" boy... who was still the enemy.

Gilbert too grieved for Francois. Like Stephane, he had a genuine fondness for the boy. At times, the two of them had called him "little brother" in French whenever he had done something that they were particularly proud of.

We had moved to the large bed that had been completed the day before the hail storm had hit. Gilbert said, "Poor Francois would have so enjoyed being my best man at our wedding. This was Stephane's idea once he took it into his head to perform the wedding... Such a short life... so full of sorrow."

He added, "'It is best to live each day as if it is your last... and to enjoy all the love around you while you can.' That is what my uncle used to say and he was right..." I kissed him and said, "Then make love to me, Gilbert. If one so young as Francois can be taken... I do not want to wait anymore..."

Gilbert sighed. "We must sleep, dearest. Tomorrow we must see how much of the harvest has been spared from the hail. At least, we shall have more water on hand then we anticipated..." With that we rose and began the day.

Fortunately, we had lost very little in the hail storm. We were able to harvest most of the crops. We worked hard to store them so that our wedding could go forward as planned... and so that there would be time for a honeymoon.

As the wedding day drew near, my grief over Francois and Tim lessened. I was deeply touched when Gilbert replied to a letter from his mother. She once again expressed her disapproval of me. His letter showed his love for me.

Gilbert had written to her that "as much as I love you, mother, I must show love to myself by following my greatest possible destiny which is Sauran..."

Finally, it was the Sunday in September that we were to be married at long last. It was another sunny day. It was just as lovely as my first wedding day. Yet, this time my body was literally aching from unfulfilled desire for Gilbert.

I was tired of being a virgin. I was tired of "false lovemaking" which was so unsatisfying. I longed for complete sexual union with Gilbert. I was impatient for our vows to be sealed... and for our lives together to officially begin.

Again, I chose to be married out of doors in what he had created as a pleasure garden for use by the entire community. My heart pounded with delight as this time (contrary to Saxon custom) Gilbert walked down the aisle toward me.

This was his idea and it was meant to reflect the path of our love... that he had to slowly and patiently walk toward me. Tears clouded my eyes as Gilbert stepped beside me. He took his hand in mine and he kissed me on the cheek.

He turned to Stephane who had been serving as the priest for the Normans. The two friends smiled at one another before Stephane opened the book containing the Norman ritual for the sacrament of marriage.

The perfect silence between us at the altar was suddenly broken. The sound of hoof beats could be heard... soon a party of men was riding hard towards us. Many fled from their seats to keep from being run over by the horses.

The leader of the men dismounted. Gilbert stepped in front of me as the man asked him, "Are you Monsieur de la Mare, master of Horsham Castle?" Gilbert demanded, "What is your business here, sir?"

The leader pulled out his sword and put the tip to Gilbert's throat. My dearest one did not even blink when this nasty man repeated his question.

Then one of the horse men from the armed party came forward: it was Geoffrey who we had banished from the castle after he had harmed my Tim.

Geoffrey shouted, "It is Gilbert de la Mare! I know him." Geoffrey quickly unsheathed his sword, rode up to him, and smashed the flat of the sword against Gilbert's head. He fell unconscious to the ground and I ran to his side.

Stephane rushed forward to try and knock Geoffrey off his horse. Another of the King's men knocked Stephane to the ground before he could strike.

Geoffrey swung his sword at me... but he missed my head and instead hit me flatly in the stomach. I was dazed but had the presence of mind to demand to know why they had arrested Gilbert. "What are the charges?" I shouted.

"It's King's business" was the only answer I got. I could only watch helplessly as the men grabbed my unconscious darling man and tied him onto a horse. Then, as quickly as they had come, the King's men rode away.

I crossed myself and said a brief prayer for Gilbert's safety.

The Norman servants and I ran back to the castle. We changed into battle armor, grabbed our weapons, mounted up, and followed them.

Fortunately, the King's men were as lazy as they were stupid and brutal... and we soon picked up their trail. Once they had bedded down for the night, we overpowered the guard on duty and took Gilbert from the King's men.

He was in terrible shape but he could still ride a horse. We all split up and went our separate ways. The Norman servants went back to the castle.

I was certain they would follow the trail of Pierre, my Norman bodyguard who was abnormally big. They did because his was the easiest trail to follow.

No one would suspect that a woman was the one taking their prisoner from them. Stephane rode beside us and we took my darling to the Saxon convent nearby. Although Stephane wished to remain with his master, I begged him to return to the castle. The Normans there would require his leadership.

Stephane would not leave until he had helped to get Gilbert into bed. I was moved when Stephane said a short prayer over Gilbert in French (it was a blessing that I did not fully understand). Before Stephane left the convent, I was touched to see him kiss his friend on the forehead.

When lightning had struck this convent, Gilbert had rebuilt it. Now it sheltered him as he recovered from the blow to his head. It took three days for him just to regain consciousness... but when Gilbert did, I was right there beside him.

All he said was "Send for a nun" before he passed out again. I did as I was bid. He awoke again as soon as he heard the door open and the nun enter.

In a still groggy voice, he explained, "She is a virgin... you must examine her now and confirm her virginity... so that we can be married. Please help us."

I kissed Gilbert and said, "That can wait... you are unwell..." He struggled to reply, "No more waiting... No more waiting..."

I submitted myself for examination... I would have been better off with an inspection by a prison guard... than with the nun who was assigned to this task.

This bitter old nun was so certain that I could not have been a virgin that she was unnecessarily rough. I must have cried out because Gilbert stumbled into the room and pulled the nun off me. She was terrified but the nun managed to say: "This woman is a virgin and she may be married in the church..."

I had not noticed until then but the priest who supervised the house had entered the room with Gilbert. "You heard that, priest?"

The old priest was clearly too terrified to speak. Even though Gilbert was still suffering from this blow to the head, he managed to say - in a loud and commanding - voice. "Then marry us, here and now... no more waiting..."

Two more nuns entered the room and the priest performed the marriage ceremony. Gilbert was shaking as he took my hands in his. "This is not how I wanted it to be, Sauran. I am so sorry... We should not have waited..."

I put my fingers to his lips. "There is nothing to be sorry for. All that matters is that we are joined together now and forever. What God has put together, no man can tear asunder. Words in vows are only for others... we are already married in our hearts and we have been since the moment I left my family."

With that, the old priest began the vows. Both of our voices were shaking as we "swore to be faithful... one to the other... until death we do part..."

Gilbert insisted that the priest complete the marriage certificate at once. The ink was not even dry before he asked the priest and the nuns - politely - to leave.

"Secure that paper in your pocket, Sauran," he commanded. "You shall have need of it in the days to come. Let no one take it from you. You will need proof that you are my wife... and that you are entitled to inherit the castle."

I raced to his side and I did as he bid. I could not keep my voice from shaking as I said, "That you know we are wed is all that matters to me, Gilbert..."

My poor husband was at the end of his endurance. He locked the door and I helped to ease him into the single bed inside the cell. "My poor head aches and I must sleep a little now." With that Gilbert passed out.

I put my ear to his chest. He was still breathing and his heart was beating strongly. I called out to him was Gilbert was too deeply asleep to waken.

So, I lay down beside him. Tears choked my eyes. I was not certain how badly injured Gilbert was. I remembered my dear grand-father now. He too had received a blow to the head. He too had drifted into sleep. He had never woken up from that slumber. I prayed that this would not happen to Gilbert.

I was so frightened because, for once, I did not know what to do. There were almost no remedies for head injuries... except to let the sufferer rest. All I could think about was: "what if the King's men would discover us here?" It was quite possible that we could be put to death for escaping the King's justice.

All I could do now was hold Gilbert as he slept. I too was exhausted for I had slept little the night before in excited anticipation of our lovemaking. Little could I imagine how badly this day would end. My thoughts tormented me... and as the day turned into night, I could not keep them from pushing me into sleep.

I awoke to the sensation of clothes being stripped from my body. Gilbert's lips were pressed to mine as I explored his body to discover he was totally naked.

His breath was warm on my ear, "Now you shall become my wife beyond all undoing... no matter what happens... we shall always have this moment..." He still seemed impaired from his injury. Yet I did not have the heart or the will to stop him. Nor could I ask him the questions that I feared the answers to.

Gilbert entered me with a tenderness and a passion that words cannot describe. He was so gentle and considerate... that only a small trickle of blood proved I that I was no longer a virgin... there was no pain... it was completely joyous.

I pressed my lips to his ear. "No matter what happens, I love you, Gilbert de la Mare. I will always love you in this life and in the next… world without end."

He pressed his lips to my ear. In French he said, "I love you, Sauran." Then he repeated it in English. "No matter what happens, no one can take this moment from us. I will always love you in this life and in the next… world without end."

I kissed Gilbert again and again. There was so much that I wanted to say to him because I became gripped with the fear that we would be parted.

I whispered in his ear, "Remember when you were so ill from the pox, you asked me not to leave you. Now I ask you not to leave me..."

Gilbert's reply was to stop my words with a kiss. I held him as tightly as I dared as my mind spun with plans for the two of us to start a new life elsewhere. I tried to speak of my plans but he kept overpowering me with his kisses.

We made love that night a full three times. I fought to keep my eyes open at the end because I wanted to be with Gilbert for as long as I possibly could. Yet finally, exhaustion overcame us... and we both drifted into a deep sleep.

I awoke the next morning to find Gilbert gone. He had left a message for me on the pillow where he had lain. I knew before I even unfolded the page that my husband had submitted himself to the King... all I lacked was knowing the reasons why... which his most beautiful letter explained.

Tears streamed down my face as I read the words of his deepest and most heartfelt love. I felt as if my heart was being torn from my body.

"My dearest, Sauran, I shall hold the precious memory of our first night together as a married couple forever in my heart. Know that I love you above all things... above my honor, above all that I own, even above my very life..."

"Know that it is my love for you that has driven me to surrender to the King. If I do not do so, my dearest, they will never stop looking for me... for us... worse, they shall take their vengeance against you... and that I cannot allow."

"Please, my dearest, I beg of you to return to the castle. Although I may own it, you are the one in charge. Know I will rest easier leaving it safe in your hands.

Allow Stephane to help you. He is the best man I have ever known. Show this letter to him... he will be as a good a friend to you as he has been to me."

"Above all, please do not be so foolish or so careless of your life as to follow me. Although I am touched beyond words that you risked everything to save my life, please do not pursue me now, Sauran. It is far too dangerous."

"Know that I will return to your loving arms... and that if I do not, it was only death that kept me from you, the woman I adore. Honor the wishes of the husband who loves you with all his heart... with all that he has... with all that he is... with all that he shall ever be... body and soul, now and forever... Gilbert"

I took put his letter in my pocket with our marriage certificate. It took some convincing but the priest finally lent me a horse. I rode hard for the castle.

I was disconcerted to see dead bodies littered in front of the main gate. There had clearly been a skirmish between the Normans and the King's men. It was hard to tell who had won the day... and who was now in control of the castle.

Suddenly, my horse was shot by an arrow and I was thrown to the ground. I looked up to see a man straddling my body with a knife posed to kill me.

The sun was so bright that I could not see my attacker clearly. I was surprised when he moved off of me. He sheathed his knife and helped me up. I was relieved to see that it was Stephane. He asked, "How fares the master?"

Since there was no way to soften the blow, I replied, "Gilbert has surrendered himself to the King's justice. Now, you tell me what happened here, Stephane."

I bent down and pulled the arrow out of the horse. I was relieved when the poor animal got to its feet. As we walked back to the castle, Stephane explained.

"The King's Men followed Pierre back here just we thought they would. When they caught up to him, they cut off his head. By then, all of us were inside the castle. We knew it was only a matter of time before the King's men returned."

"Luckily, those the master had sent for from France had arrived the day before. They thought they had come to help with the expansion of the castle... they quickly discovered that they had to fight to keep the castle in Norman hands. It was a hard fought battle but we won in the end over the King's men."

I asked, "So our Normans are now in charge of the castle?" He said, "Yes."

As soon as the castle gate shut behind us, I turned to Stephane. "Gilbert and I were wed before his surrender." I was not sure that Stephane would believe me so I took both his letter and our marriage certificate from my pocket.

I was surprised to see how moved Stephane was by reading Gilbert's letter to me. I could see that he believed I was telling him the truth.

"Stephane, I am going after my husband. Can I count on you - and the rest of the Normans - to help and support me in this rescue mission?"

I was astonished when Stephane dropped to his knees, took my hand, and kissed it. "Of course, we will, my lady. With your marriage, you are Norman. Yet, I regret to inform you that our numbers have been so reduced, that we cannot now win against the King's men in battle..."

I motioned for Stephane to rise. "It is clear that we must take another approach. We cannot fight with weapons but we can fight back with needle and thread."

He looked at me as if I were insane. "Tonight, just as darkness falls, take all clothes and weapons from the King's Men. Dispose of all the bodies in the animal pit where no one will think to look for them. Have the women folk fit their uniforms to our men so that they will look like the King's Men..."

Stephane now looked confused. "But why? I don't understand..." I said softly, "Because I am going to pay a visit to King William... along with a contingent of our best and most loyal Normans. What battle cannot accomplish, guile, deceit, and treachery may. There are many ways to fight back, Stephane."

As I walked with Stephane deeper into the castle, I prayed that my clever, old grand-father would guide my hand. Now everything he had taught me would be put the test. I would get Gilbert back... or die myself while trying to do so.

Stephane drew up the list of which Normans would remain behind to secure the castle... and which would accompany us on our journey to London. It was so well and thoughtfully done... that I only made one change.

"You must come with me, Stephane. I must call on you - the best Norman among us - to accompany the men and I on this journey to Court."

His mouth dropped open. "I am the only one you can trust to hold the castle for when our master returns... Please, my lady, reconsider..."

I sighed. "I have only learned enough French from my husband for simple conversation. I do not how well King William speaks English. If I am to play the part of a rich Norman widow seeking to buy an estate in England, it must appear that I speak excellent French. If you come with me, we can pretend to confer while you supply me with the proper French words and phrases."

I concluded by saying, "If we do not get Gilbert back, the castle will revert to the Crown. The only chance we have for rescuing my dear husband if is you are there to help. Gilbert said you are like a brother to him... so I appeal to you..."

Stephane stopped me. "I would do anything for Gilbert. Truth be told, I would rather help you with his rescue for I too regard him as a brother. I only wanted to stay behind because I thought that is what Gilbert would have wished."

So, once all our garments were in readiness, we set off. We had told as few as possible of our true plans and intentions. To the rest, we explained that we were off on a hunting expedition... and that we could be returning at any time. We said that just in case the King's men returned to Horsham Castle.

On the way to London, we met up with the carriage that Stephane had hired. It was a fine carriage with curtains over the windows. As soon as I entered it, I closed the curtains... so that I could begin my transformation into a French lady.

How I hated that prospect. I had to put on all the finest clothes my husband had bought for me (which I rarely wore). I started with donning the "travel dress" that was supposed to be ideal for carriage rides (it was stiff and uncomfortable). It pressed the under garment more tightly against my flesh... which made me feel as if I needed to itch my skin all the time (although I did get used to it).

Yet that was nothing compared to the tight little shoes that strangled my feet or to the bone in my corset that kept jabbing into my sides. That was made even worse whenever the carriage jostled up and down over rough roads.

The worst was the concoctions that I had to smear all over my face. The blue paint on my eyelids stung. The white powder on my nose itched. The red cream on my lips tasted like poison to me. Yet Stephane assured me that this was what women from France wore... and I prayed that he was correct in this.

The black French wig covered my flaxen hair went on last. That wig was quite heavy and not to mention quite uncomfortable after wearing it for a while.

At the first rest stop, I got out so that Stephane could give me his opinion. He said, "If I did not already know that it was you, Lady Sauran, I would have never recognized you. You look quite the French Norman lady indeed!"

Now that my disguise was in place, we spread the word about wanting to meet the King wherever we went... and surprisingly he arranged for messengers to come and meet us. This was a blessing as the King had just settled into his castle at Westminster after his recent visit to Normandy in France.

Stephane fell to chatting with the King's escort along the way. My faith in God was always strong but it was reaffirmed by what he learned from the escort.

It turns out that Gilbert's own parents had arranged for his capture! They had travelled with the King from France to England. Along the way, his parents had filled the King's ear with lies about their own son's disloyalty. They had spread the rumor that Gilbert was raising an army against William.

The (ridiculous) tale was that Gilbert had won the loyalty of the Saxons who wished to revolt against William. They advised the King to capture Gilbert and to take Horsham Castle back from him... by force if necessary!

That explained why Gilbert had been taken away from me. Further, his parents had covered up for the commander of the King's men who had claimed that Horsham Castle was now under royal control (when it was not!). That explained why the castle had not been attacked for a second time.

His parents had then bribed the King into imprisoning my husband... where he was being beaten daily because he would not agree to sell the castle to some anonymous buyers (in reality his own parents!). The King agreed to this because they had promised him a modest share of its future profits.

This state of affairs was common knowledge among the royal household. Since the plot was so sinister, news of it had spread like wild fire. I thanked God that this news had reached me... because now I knew exactly what to do.

When we arrived at Court, Stephane went to seek out some of his old friends who worked for Gilbert's parents (and despised them). His mission was to find out exactly how much the elder de la Mares had brought with them... as well as where their fortune was being kept. My mission was to get to see the King.

I wore the dress that Gilbert had thought so "flattered" my breasts. The effect was greater than I had anticipated. There were gasps and stares as I entered the throne room. People stepped back when the King motioned for me to move forward. The room fell silent as I quickly moved towards his throne.

My heart skipped a beat as I walked past my husband's parents. Since I was beautifully dressed and perfectly made up, they did not recognize me. I also came on my own as I dared not risk Gilbert's parents recognizing either Stephane or the contingent of their former Norman servants in my party.

Just as Stephane had advised me, I drew my fingers provocatively across the tops of my breasts. This, he explained, was a French code which conveyed - without words - that I was ready and willing to have sex with the King.

Although I told Stephane that I would never break my marriage vows to Gilbert, I did not see how I could obtain his release without prostituting myself. I had to get Gilbert back home and I was willing to do whatever that took.

After I curtseyed to him, the King nodded and then motioned with his hand for me to leave. I was quite disappointed. I thought that I had failed as I headed back to my appointed chamber. I tried not to cry for fear of spoiling my makeup... but mainly because I did not know how else I could get to the King.

Then Stephane burst into my chamber. He was breathless and red in the face as he cried, "You have caught the King's eye, my lady. His page is outside and he has orders to take us both to his private chambers."

King William got right to the point. "What do you want for your favors, my lady?"

So, I responded in kind. "I understand that you are holding one Gilbert de la Mare. I wish to purchase him from you, your Majesty!"

I bowed so that he could get a better view of my breasts. The King laughed, "This de la Mare is in high demand it seems. What might you want with him, Lady Felicity? Just out of curiosity, of course..."

I laughed. "What does any woman want out of a man? Gilbert was one of my lovers and he pleases me greatly. I would have him back..."

The King just laughed. "So you are not part of his Army then?" I drew my fingers across my breasts. "Do I look like a soldier to you?"

He smiled, "Perhaps you are a warrior of love. Well, I must, in all fairness, warn you that he is suspected of being a traitor so he was beaten accordingly. So this de la Mare will not be leading any battles soon either in love or war. Given that he is - somewhat - damaged goods, what do you offer for him?"

As planned, Stephane stepped forward and bowed to the King. "We can double the sum that the present anonymous buyers have offered the Crown..."

Then Stephane clapped his hands. The door opened and the servants of the elder de la Mare's came into the chamber bearing two chests. After they set the chests down, they each took a key and opened these treasure boxes.

I held my breath as Stephane spoke. I prayed hard that his intelligence was accurate... and that we had enough money to secure Gilbert's freedom.

Stephane continued, "I believe that your anonymous buyers only offered you one chest of gold. Lady Felicity offers you two chests of gold, my King!'

I added, as I drew my fingers provocatively across the tops of my breasts, "You will also discover, my King, why my name of Felicity is so apt..."

The King laughed. Then Stephane went over and knelt before him. He bowed and handed the monarch a stack of papers. The King nodded. He rose and went to his nearby writing desk and quickly signed both sets of papers.

Stephane and I had prepared this contract in advance. It called for a warrant for Gilbert's immediate release into the custody of my servants. It also specified the annual percentage of the castle's profit paid to the Crown (which the King crossed out and then doubled). This was not as high as we had feared.

Once the King had signed it, he handed the quill to me. "My lady?" I said boldly, "I will sign it only after I see that Gilbert de la Mare is still alive. After all, you described him as somewhat damaged goods..."

The King was "aroused" by my insistence that I see Gilbert first. So, his page took Stephane, I, and the two other men (who now served me and not the elder de la Mares) to the dungeon where Gilbert was being held.

It broke my heart to see that my dear husband was black, blue, and bloody. He was unconscious after so many beatings... but he was still alive. My men took Gilbert away as I went with the page to return to the King.

Before we lost sight of one another, Stephane began "my lady..." I cut him off by saying, "Follow my orders... to the letter... all of you!"

I was now on my own. I had told Stephane and the men to take Gilbert and return at once to Horsham Castle. I would have to follow them as best I could.

Now it was time for Lady Felicity to make good on her bargain with the King. There were so many rumors about the Conqueror that I had no idea about what to expect. Some said that he was attached to his Queen but then again she had waged war against him. Others said that he had a secret mistress that he was quite faithful to and passionate about... who he kept hidden from sight.

Whatever the truth was, King William the Conqueror did not have an official mistress like other monarchs did. So literally anything was possible with him.

When I returned to King William's private chamber, I signed both contracts. I put my copy into the bag which was attached to my dress. I just prayed that Stephane would not need those papers to get Gilbert out of London. I hoped that leaving the great city would be as easy as entering it had been.

Once the King had locked up his copy of the contract, he dismissed his page and left strict orders that we were not to be disturbed. He asked, "Are you satisfied about de la Mare's condition now, Lady Felicity?"

I smiled, "What matters about Gilbert - his manhood - is intact..." The King laughed. He sat down on his throne and freed his own member from its cloth prison. He was already aroused. "Strip!" he commanded.

So, I slowly stripped off my clothes as he watched. I got through it by imagining Stephane and his men getting Gilbert out of the castle. Yet I also thought that I was now truly a whore at last. At least, it was being done in a worthy cause.

Yet fate lent a hand... the King had a common sexual problem: he ejaculated prematurely. As item after item of my clothes were being provocatively removed, I was treated to seeing fountain after fountain from the King.

Even though I had prepared myself for it... he never entered me. Finally, in frustration at the failing of his own body, the King dismissed me. Once the page had escorted me back to my chambers, I was going to be myself again.

I unpinned that cursed wing from my head and threw it on to the bed. I kicked off my fancy, ill-fitting shoes. I shed my false, fancy clothes. I scrubbed the paint from my face. I took some ash from the fireplace and put it all over my skin.

I tied the bag with the precious contract around my waist. I changed into plain but comfortable servant's clothes. I put on thick walking boots and I stuffed my flaxen hair under a cap. I prayed hard that no one would recognize me.

I hoped that whoever visited Lady Felicity's chamber next would be so busy with stealing her clothes that they would delay the search for her.

I had just left my chamber when the page who had just taken me there walked past me. Since I was dressed as a servant, he looked through me as if I were glass. So, I hurried to the kitchen: the least secure area of the palace.

No one questioned me when I took a barrel of kitchen scraps to the compost heap. Fortunately, the door in the outer wall of the castle was still open. I moved toward it as fast as I dared. Once outside, I ran as hard as I could.

It was a good forty miles from London back to Horsham Castle. I dared not use a coach in case the King decided to search for Lady Felicity... or in case the elder de la Mares discovered who had stolen their chests of gold.

On my way out of London, I passed a priest who was staring at a uniform that had been left in his poor box. The plan was for my Normans to leave the outer layer of their "King's Men" uniforms in the poor box of churches as they left.

Not only did Lady Felicity have to disappear, her contingent of men had to vanish as well. Before I left, Stephane told me he had already had "Lady Felicity's carriage" draped in black and he had installed a bed inside.

This is how we would get Gilbert out of London: for no one would dare interfere with a funeral coach for fear that they would contract some deadly disease.

The men would split up into groups of three. Each group would take different routes back to the castle. I alone would shadow the main road back to Horsham since I was the only one who would be travelling alone.

At least the weather was fairly warm and the road was well marked. I had changed some of the gold coins for silver ones before I left London. Gold coins were rare in the countryside and using one would arouse suspicion.

I should have been concerned for my own well-being but all I could think about was Gilbert. The sight of his bruised face and his bloody body haunted me.

Although I was anxious to get back to the castle, I was terrified about what I would find when I returned home. I was terrified that Gilbert had died. If he had lived, there was another problem... I had left the dress that "flattered my breasts" behind me. He loved that dress and I knew that leaving it behind would upset him. That made me laugh... and it also gave me an idea.

I would distract myself with pleasant memories of our life together. It would not only pass the time... but it would keep my worries at bay.

My dear husband was always coming up with clothing concoctions that I refused to wear. The dressmakers loved us! He created clothes and I rejected them. I made changes to his garments and he rejected them. Each and every time the seamstresses got paid so they did not mind this clothing warfare one bit!

One time, Gilbert came up with a design that gave no support to my breasts. As I was rather well endowed, I liked to have bodices that gave me the extra support that I needed. I put his "breast flattering" dress on and I was flipping and flopping all over the place. Of course, he loved it: full breasts on display!

My darling was so aroused by this revealing dress (the one I had worn to Court) that he started to make love to me on the spot. I had to wave the dressmakers out of the room because his tongue was thrusting into my mouth so vigorously.

Once his passion had been satisfied, I informed Gilbert, "I am glad that you like this dress, my dear..." (We had made love with that dress still on!) "Yet," I declared, "I shall not be wearing it anywhere outside this bedchamber!"

A spirited argument ensued... which I finally won by pointing out that if this dress had enflamed his passions so easily that it might give other men the wrong idea. Quite frankly, I was afraid that I would turn the wrong way in that dress, smack someone with my breast, and knock them unconscious!

So, we kept that dress - for our private use - until I wore it at Court - and had the dressmakers make other ones... more to my liking.

I called in each of the dressmakers - privately - after that and told them what designs they could and could not offer up to my husband. Since I was the one who saw to the payment of the accounts, they were happy not to cater to his every impractical whim after a while... as this cost us a great deal of money.

The time had passed so pleasantly that day had quickly turned to night. Before the darkness had fallen, I was able to find a good place to hide in for the night.

My grand-father had taught me how to find natural holes in the ground where I could sleep safe from animal attacks. It also kept me safe from the highway men who skulked about at night seeking to rob those foolish enough to travel then by cart, coach, or carriage. That night I had difficulty sleeping.

So, my mind wandered back to the morning after Gilbert kidnapped me. Rays of moon light were streaming into his bedchamber as I jolted myself awake.

He was lying beside me peacefully sleeping. I looked around the room for something I could use as a weapon against him... but the room was stripped of "all sharp objects". The only thing at hand was a pillow. He was so soundly asleep that I could have half suffocated him with it before he awoke.

I picked the pillow up and held it in my hands. It took a few moments but I put it back down. He was amazingly attractive... well built, muscular, and strong.

Certainly, Gilbert had the body most women dream of when they think of their perfect man. Yes, seeing him like this filled me with romantic desire... Yes, the fact that his manhood was semi-erect certainly gave me a warm feeling of sexual arousal... but that is not what stopped me from harming him.

It was my memories of our time together at the castle... as written in the flesh of his body. I was so lost in my memories that I did not notice him wake up.

"I did not think you would be able to use that," he remarked. I had forgotten that one hand was still clutching the pillow. I quickly let it go. He continued, "If you do decide to use it, even if I were to die, I would understand..."

Tears filled my eyes as I realized how much I would have lost had I chosen to act upon my murderous impulse back then. I loved Gilbert so dearly now.

I will never forget the gentleness in his voice as Gilbert continued, "After what I have done, you have every right to hate me... but I hope - someday - you will understand that I took you because I could not do otherwise."

"The simple truth, Sauran, is that I love you... it might have been easier for me if I did not... but I do love you... most desperately..." I remembered laughing and repeating mockingly, "Desperately! You love me desperately?"

He said softly, "Snatching a bride from her groom is certainly a great act of desperation..." He took my hand and wrapped my fingers around his manhood. "You think what I have done has been all about 'this'... but you are wrong."

Gilbert continued, "It is about the years to come... years that I hope to share with you... in love and joy and passion. One day, 'this' will cease to function... because that is the nature of life... but, until I the day I die, my heart shall beat for you... and for you alone... That is what I mean by desperate love..."

He sat up, looked deeply into my eyes, and moved slowly to kiss me. I wanted to resist him... but I found myself unable to move. His lips met mine. Then he pressed himself against me and slowly moved me back down onto the bed.

He took the pillow I had been holding and he slipped it back underneath my head. He kissed my forehead and I went back to sleep. Remembering that I wept afresh... until I finally wore myself out.

The next day as I continued on my journey, I passed by an abandoned church. So I went inside and prayed. That was a big difference between my husband and I. I was quite religious and he was not. He was a man of action who had no use for prayers. I found that hard to understand as praying comforted me.

I seemed to me that Saxons, in general, were more religious than the Normans. For example, they did not have a "Day of the Dead" ceremony (which I would miss this time due to my travelling). Very few of them prayed or worshipped God unless it was Sunday. I hoped that I had prayed so often that God would hear my pleas in this hour of need… because prayer was my only hope.

First, I prayed that I would arrive home safely (since, so far, I had managed to avoid any problems in walk along the open road). Second, I prayed that once there I would discover Gilbert had survived his torture. Third, I prayed that if it did rain, that I would find shelter before my clothes were soaked through.

Suddenly my mind turned back to the months while I was waiting to be married. Gilbert and I had decided to build a church within the castle walls.

Relations between the Saxons and the Normans had become impossible. The Saxons had made it clear that the Normans would not be welcome inside the new church they were building (on the site of the old burned one).

So, a new church was needed for the Normans. I awoke one morning with a vision of exactly how I wanted it done. It would feature windows in the shape of crosses with clear glass inside them (even though that was expensive).

I had drawn the plan for the window by hand. I had discussed it with both Gilbert and the stone mason, and we all were in agreement... or so I thought.

On the day that the stones creating the windows were being laid, there was a serious problem with a shipment of supplies delivered to the castle. I could not be in two places at once so I handled the supply issues.

Two days were needed to straighten everything out... and I did not have time to inspect the construction until the third day. Of course, the windows were wrong!

My husband and the stone mason had found a problem with my original design... instead of telling me, they had "fixed it" on their own. It was dreadful! I simply could not believe how badly the work had been done.

Two windows were installed. While the mason worked on the third, I showed him how to set up that window as I had originally designed it. Amazingly, to the men, the third window could be completed exactly as I had planned it!

Yet the first two windows were STILL wrong. My husband and the stone mason did not think there was much of a difference between the three windows and they just wanted to forge ahead. I wanted the first two windows redone.

There was an epic battle that involved heated conversations in half French and half English between Gilbert and I. This all left the stone mason baffled as to what we were saying in multiple languages as we were screaming at one another. Our anger had apparently gathered some storm clouds outside and a downpour of rain put an end to the day's construction.

At dinner, in the main hall, although we sat next to one another, we both decided to speak with the other people around us such was our mutual anger.

When we were alone, later that night in our bedchamber, there was a deafening silence in which only the brush moving through my hair could be heard.

I put on a nightshirt (usually I slept naked), plopped into the bed, and faced away from Gilbert. I felt his hand reach over and grope my breast. I pushed his hand away from me and buried myself under the covers. Gilbert sighed, "If we redo the windows, will you love me again?"

I turned to face him. "I will always love you whether you have the windows redone or not... BUT it is not like you will be spending much time in our church. It will be me there trying to pray to our Lord and constantly being distracted from my devotions by those two misbegotten, ill constructed windows!"

He sighed again, "As you wish, but only if you take off that shirt!" So, I slipped out of my nightshirt, we kissed, made love, and slept in perfect harmony. He once told me that "it hurts my heart when we sleep and you are angry with me" and, of course, I felt the same way.

Sadly, I now realized how unimportant such trivial things as windows were. All that mattered to me now... was if Gilbert was alive... and, if he was, that it would be within my power to restore him to health. So, I prayed with each step that I took as I continued to make my way back to the castle.

I could only hope that Gilbert would live. I resolved to better appreciate the gift of his love when I got home. I prayed (yet again) that the Lord would spare him.

I was not too lost in my thoughts to hear a horseman approaching. I scurried behind a tree and watched the horseman pass me. As the horse retreated, I thought it looked familiar and so I cried out, "Stephane?"

The man stopped the horse and dismounted. As he turned, I could see that it was indeed Stephane. I ran to him and we embraced.

"Please," I begged him. "Please tell me that Gilbert is still alive!"

Stephane stepped back from me and smiled. "He is, my lady. I am here only to stop Gilbert from looking for you himself. The Norman physician made him promise me that he would stay in bed until I returned."

I made the sign of the cross over Stephane and I to give thanks to our Lord for such a happy outcome. He insisted I ride the horse as he walked beside it.

Then he told me about the rest of the men. All of them had made it back to the castle without incident. All I could think was the Gilbert was wrong to doubt the power of prayer. Surely, this happy outcome had been a genuine miracle.

While we spoke, I prayed silently for another miracle... that Gilbert would heal and recover... and live to be a husband to me.

I was closer to the castle than I had realized. Stephane and I had made it back home before darkness fell. Stephane took me at once to see Gilbert who was fast asleep... so I went into another room so that he could rest in peace.

When I rose the next morning, I was distressed to learn that Gilbert was still asleep. So, I used that time to really assess the damage to his body.

Although the Normal physician had done a fine job of biding his wounds, he had missed the fact that his body was riddled with fractured bones. So, I put splints everywhere I could and this process finally woke Gilbert up.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked as his eyes struggled to open. Then his voice shook as he added, "Sauran, am I dreaming? Have you come home?"

I put my hand on his head and stroked his hair. "Stephane found me and brought me back home. You are not dreaming. Can a dream do this?"

I leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. I could see tears in the corner of his eyes. Gilbert said, "I thought I had lost you forever..."

It took all my will to keep the tears out of my face and voice. I took his hand and said, "I am right here by your side. You will never lose me."

Even though I did not believe it, I said, "The danger is passed now." The truth was otherwise. His skin was so pale. He had lost much blood. He had lost weight. The healer in me knew that his condition was grave.

I could see that he had to go back to sleep. I said, "All that remains is for you to heal. You must not move. You must lie as still so your bones can set properly. I will be by your side from now on. Nothing will part us, I swear before God."

I insisted that he rest... which was hard for Gilbert to do because he was so active and independent. Yet, as I correctly pointed out to him, if he did not rest, he would never get better. However, his pain was much more persuasive than I was. Before long, it talked him into returning back to sleep.

Gilbert slept through the next week without once waking. As the days went by, I became ever more worried. I had seen this before. One of my mother's friends had almost been beaten to death by her husband in a drunken rage.

Like Gilbert, she suffered from broken bones all over her body. At first, when she awoke, like Gilbert, the young mother had spoken with the ones she loved. Then, once her mind was at rest, she never woke up. She died in her sleep.

Now that Gilbert saw that Stephane, I, and the rest of the Normans were safe inside the castle, his mind was at rest. I shared these fears about him only with Stephane. So, we agreed that one of us would be by Gilbert's side at all times.

That should have been easy to accomplish except for the interference of the Saxons. One of them was suing in the castle in court, hoping that no one would appear from the castle and that the case could be won by default.

I was sad to think that I had grown to despise the selfishness and pettiness of the Saxon people. Had it been our old Lord who lay seriously ill in the castle, no one would have dared to make trouble in court. Yet a Norman was fair game.

Since I was the one who handled matters with the court, I had to leave Gilbert in Stephane's capable hands. It was up to me because my Saxon face at least assured that I would be listened to - seriously - by the magistrate.

Each moment I was in court, I prayed that Gilbert would not leave me. I cursed every moment that I was parted from him... yet failing to defend ourselves would have cost us more. When the day's session was over with, I rode hard for the castle. As soon as I dismounted, one of the servants said simply, "He's awake!"

I ran as fast as I could to his side. Even before I arrived, I could hear Gilbert and Stephane speaking French so rapidly that I could barely understand it.

Once I entered the room, they stopped their conversation. Stephane rose from the chair by the sick bed and kissed Gilbert on the forehead. He then walked to me. Stephane put his arms around me and gave me a gentle hug.

His voice shook as he said, "Gilbert gave me permission to do this, Lady Sauran. I just had to thank you again for saving our Gilbert from the King."

I returned his embrace as I looked at Gilbert. "We did it, Stephane. You, I, and the rest of the Normans. We all rescued my dear husband, together."

When Stephane released me, he asked, "What can I do for Gilbert?" I replied, "He needs water and some soup right away."

Stephane nodded, "I have already called for that. I shall hurry the servants along." With final parting words in French to Gilbert, he left us alone.

I gave Gilbert a kiss on the forehead as I sat down beside him. "You must not move. You must lie as still so your bones can set properly." My husband smiled. "I remember your orders from last time."

So, I added. "You must stay awake until you have had some water and soup. You may only have soup for a few days before you can eat solid food."

He took a deep breath. "While you were at court today, Stephane told me all of the details about your rescue of me from the King's Court..."

I interrupted him. "We all played our part in getting you back from the King." His voice shook as Gilbert said, "Yours was the most difficult role."

At that moment, Stephane and the servant arrived with Gilbert's food. Stephane raised Gilbert up a little so that I could feed him. I was pleased to see how well he ate and drank. Of course, the effort tired Gilbert and he went back to sleep.

The next day Gilbert was able to eat on his own. I was very encouraged to see his impatience with the whole process of cleaning him and changing his splints. His bones were healing more rapidly than I could have hoped.

I knew that the old Gilbert was truly back when he demanded that everyone leave the room after he was properly attended to. He said, "I need to speak privately with my lady wife. Stephane, see to it that we are not disturbed."

When we were alone, I could not help but say, "I see that the master has truly returned now." So, I sat down beside him and gently rested my hand on his.

His response was, "Be serious." Then his voice shook as Gilbert asked, "Did the King poke you? Poke is the English word for rape, is it not?"

I kissed his hand and said, "I swear before God and on the love I have for you, Gilbert, that the King did not enter me. It was quite a miracle that he was unable to perform like a man when we alone. I was astonished: I understand that the King has ten children. So, I expected no mercy from him..."

Gilbert's voice shook as he replied, "You do not have to spare my feelings."

I smiled. "I wish you could have known my grand-father. He was often hired as a hunter of men and he knew how to travel far and wide in complete safety. He taught all of my family how to protect ourselves whilst traveling. So, the journey home to the castle was the easiest part of the rescue plan for me."

Gilbert said meekly, "Will you take your cap off, loosen your flaxen braid, and lie beside me for a little while, my dearest Sauran?"

After Gilbert promised that he would not move if I laid down beside him, I granted his wish. I carefully placed some of my hair in his hand as he requested. He wanted me to face him so we could look into each other's eyes.

He explained. "While they were beating me, I dreamed of this moment. That you would be lying beside me in bed just as you are now. I saw your pretty face. I saw you smiling at me. I saw you so clearly, Sauran..."

I smiled at him. "Gilbert, you must not upset yourself." As he often did, Gilbert did not obey me. "Please, Sauran. I must speak my heart. I shall not be easy until I do. I would have given up but for you."

I replied, "I will not listen unless you do as I say and lie completely still." He sighed, "As you wish. I love you, Sauran, so much..." I kissed his cheek, "I love you too, Gilbert. Please it is best if you rest now."

He took a deep breath. "Stephane told me that it was your plan that saved me. Do not deny if it: had it been his plan, Stephane would surely have taken the credit. I have never known my dear friend ever to be untruthful with me..."

His whole body shook as he said, "I married you so that you would be well provided for if the King were to have killed me. I no longer wish to force you... It would be easy for us to be divorced with the Saxon rite..."

I sighed, "You forget, my dear husband, that the priest who married us as well as the nuns who witnessed it were Saxons. They asked me if I wished to be released from our vows... once you were gone from the convent."

"I will tell you, Gilbert, what I told them... that I love you, that I desire to be your wife, that I desire to join my life to yours, and that I desire you body and soul..."

His voice shook as he asked, “Sauran, have you forgiven me then... for imprisoning you... I cannot go another moment without knowing if you do."

I would not let him finish and said, "If I had not already forgiven you for that, then I would not have married you in the first place. I was not marrying you to get a castle... Yet, perhaps, it is that you have not forgiven me, Gilbert."

He seemed genuinely surprised, "Forgiven you: for what?" I kissed his forehead as Stephane had done. "For being so slow to accept the hand of the only man I could ever truly love. So, do you forgive me?"

A bright smile lighted up his face. "Of course, if you think it necessary. You saved me, Sauran, in every possible way... not just from the King. You have made my life worth living. I did not know what happiness was until I met you. I fought so hard to stay alive while they beat me... because of you..."

I kissed him again. "Thank God, you did. Now that we are at peace with each other... please Gilbert... if you love me, then you must rest." I promised to stay beside my husband as he slept. I watched him for a while before joining him.

Now our positions were reversed. Gilbert was the one trapped in our room because of his body's weakness... and I was the one who roamed the castle freely doing whatever needed to be done. I spent lots of time with Gilbert, employing all the healing arts at my command to help him recover.

What he liked the best was having me serve as his crutch as he painfully started to walk again. I would stand under his arm, he would put it around my shoulder, and we would take turns around the bedchamber... and later around the castle.

The moment that my husband could do something... he pushed himself to do more. Yet an unfortunate side effect of all this stress on his body was that Gilbert could not achieve an erection... no matter how hard he tried.

I pretended not to notice him crying about it when he thought I was asleep beside him. It tore at my heart as well. So many nights we could have been intimate because we were both whole and healthy... but my pride and his scruples got in the way... now his wounded body was in the way.

I tried to make up for it by showing Gilbert love in every other non-sexual way... but I could see in his eyes how hurt he was that we could not make love.

Then one night, when Gilbert was sleeping and holding me close to him, I felt something very familiar against my leg... it was his hardened manhood. He was so soundly asleep that I dared not wake him... but I knew, at that moment, all would be well between us... sexually.

Then one morning he made the same discovery as I had... his sexuality was reawakening... but he did not tell me. That day I went to help him bathe - as I had done for many mornings now - and he asked to try that on his own.

So, I honored his wishes but I hid nearby in case he fell and needed my help. As I peeked in at him, I saw his manhood erecting... and I was overjoyed. All day I looked forward to that night... because I was sure we would make love.

Yet when I got back to our bedchamber, Gilbert was sleeping. So, I thought "tomorrow morning for sure" but again he went straight to washing up.

Later that night I awoke to the feel of his lips on my shoulder and the tip of his erection on my back. I carefully turned around and slowly twined my fingers around his swelling manhood. I could feel desire rolling through his body.

I got right to the point, "Your bones have mended nicely. It seems that you are well enough to be my husband... It seems that this is what you and I have so fervently desired for so long... It seems as if nothing stands in the way of our lovemaking... And yet I know, Gilbert, that you are holding back. Why?"

I asked tearfully, "Is it that you no longer desire me, Gilbert?"

He pulled me close. "I do desire you. Yet I wonder, Sauran, if... after all that has passed between us... if you really can desire a broken down man like me?"

Poor Gilbert was well enough to see how badly scarred his body was. I had told him he would heal but that scars would remain. I knew he did not believe me at first but he did now that they had ceased to improve. In his own eyes, he was no longer a handsome man. In my eyes, he was even more attractive.

I gave him my answer in a way that could not be mistaken. I responded by fondling his manly organs and stroking him into greater hardness. I kissed him as passionately as I had ever done. I caressed his scars with my fingertips.

He clearly enjoyed this so I guided his throbbing member into me and we both gasped with pleasure. I whispered in his ear, "I am yours, now and forever, world without end. Amen." He whispered the same thing into my ear.

So, we made love to one another for the first time in joyous marital harmony. I accounted this as the first time that we made love because we fully and freely gave of ourselves to one another. No pain, no pressure, and no problems: it was magical as first time lovemaking can be, as it should be.

Almost a year had to pass before Gilbert had fully recovered his strength. On the anniversary of our wedding, he gave a great feast for all the Normans. We also welcomed those few Saxons had proved to be our friends.

It was a merry festival indeed. Finally, all the guests had left except for Stephane. For months now, Gilbert had wanted to express his gratitude to his long time friend, companion, and right hand man. He had offered Stephane some land on the estate along with funds for building a home of his own.

I was hoping that Stephane had stayed because he was going to accept Gilbert's offer. They embraced and Stephane said, "I am glad to see you so well and so happily settled, my friend. I could never have left you before this."

Indeed, in the time that Gilbert was recovering, Stephane had taken his place. I had expressed my gratitude to him many times for his service above and beyond the call of duty. In fact, by this time, I thought of Stephane as my friend.

I was stunned. "What do you mean, Stephane? Are you leaving England?"

He sighed. "I am returning home to France. Please do not think me ungrateful. Indeed, I want what the two of you have. I want to be married to a wife that I can love and have a home that I can be happy in. There is no one here for me in town or castle. I tire of the constant hatred of the Saxons..."

Gilbert was clearly devastated. He nodded his head and replied, "You must do what is best for you, my old friend. I shall miss you beyond measure."

Gilbert embraced Stephane once more before walking away from us. I could tell that my husband's grief at this news was too painful for him to share with me at that moment. Yet, I too was stunned and saddened by this news.

I had started out despising Stephane and now tears rolled down my cheeks at the thought of losing him to France - forever. Before I could say anything, Stephane brushed away my tears as he shed a few of his own.

He said, his voice shaking. "If there had been one, such as you, Lady Sauran, for me, then I would never leave this castle. You and our dear Gilbert have shown me that love can be found in this cesspit of the world."

"I wish to find such a love for myself. I know - in my heart - that this will never happen for me in England. I must find my true love in France..."

I interrupted him. "If you found someone in France, you could bring her back here. We would welcome you back, Stephane, at any time."

He smiled, "Yes, if she would be willing, I would do so. Yet even King William lives in France more and more... and in England less and less. If you had ever known the comforts of France, you might want to live there yourself, my lady."

It was not that long ago that I would have been over-joyed by the prospect of Stephane's departure... but now I could not bear the thought of him leaving.

I was surprised to find myself saying, "Is there nothing I can do or say to persuade you to change your mind? Won't you reconsider?"

Stephane sighed. "I have come to think of you as a friend, Lady Sauran. It hurts me to leave you almost as much as it hurts me to leave Gilbert. Yet I know that you love my dear friend as much as I do. I know you will care for him. That will always comfort me. Yet I must move out from under my dear brother's shadow and become my own man with my own life..."

I took his hand. "Promise me that you shall write to Gilbert and I often." Stephane took my hand and kissed it. "I promise I will, Lady Sauran. Tell Gilbert that I shall expect his letters as often as I shall be sending him mine."

On the morning Stephane left, the two men embraced each other. They spoke to one another in French so quickly that I could barely understand it.

Gilbert had tried his best to convince his friend to stay at the castle. For his part, Stephane had remained with us for longer than he had intended. Yet the weather was turning cold and Stephane had to be on his way.

Gilbert begged his friend to wait until the next year to travel so that they could spend one last Christmas together. Yet Stephane said, "The longer I wait to go, the harder it will be for me to leave you." So, he departed as planned. The two men did not lose sight of one another until Stephane's carriage was out of view.

I stood behind Gilbert and put my arms around him. I said, "Stephane will always be inside your heart... as you will be inside his."

Gilbert turned around and embraced me. He held me close but did not say anything. There was nothing that I could do but hold Gilbert. My husband had told me that he could never remember a day without Stephane in it.

For the rest of that day, I stayed close to Gilbert and helped him with his duties. He told me stories of their youth together that I not yet heard before. Yet there was little joy in my husband's voice as he related them… such was his loss.

We went to bed early as I held him. Gilbert's sadness was so great that I could almost feel it. He said, "I feel as if my right hand has been cut from my body."

I kissed him. "Oh, my dearest, I am sure that if you are feeling that way then so is Stephane. Perhaps that will cause him to come back to us."

Gilbert shook his head. "I would like to believe that... I know my dear friend too well. I know that he gave his decision to return to France much thought. He would not have even mentioned his desire to leave unless he was certain that he would go. I tried to talk him out of it even though I knew it would be useless."

I stroked his hair and said, "Perhaps, as time goes by, Stephane will reconsider. You never knew what the future will bring." Gilbert nodded and I felt him relax into sleep. I prayed hard that a letter from Stephane would arrive soon.

Christmas had come with no word from Stephane. Although Gilbert did his best to be merry, he was heartbroken over this situation. Periodically, he had sent men back to France to acquire goods that were not available in England. This last time he sent an agent specifically to search for Stephane.

Gilbert had become convinced that Stephane had to be in deep trouble because he would have written us otherwise. I prayed that this agent would somehow find Stephane because I knew if he failed, that Gilbert would go after him next.

My husband promised me that he would not leave to go looking for Stephane until spring. The seas were too rough in winter for safe travel. I told Gilbert that I would go with him... but he refused. So, I did not argue: instead I gave thought to how I would change his mind about this... as I refused to be left behind.

After the Christmas festival, once we retired to our bedchamber, Gilbert had the "I am missing Stephane badly right now" look on his face. So, I asked Gilbert to sit on the edge of the bed because I had a surprise for him.

I asked Gilbert to close his eyes as I got Stephane's bag of gifts out of my clothes drawer. I sat down next to him and said, "Open your eyes!"

Gilbert looked at me as I pulled a big gift from the bag and handed it to him. He seemed surprised and said, "It is not yet New Year's..."

I kissed my husband and said, "I cannot bear to see you so upset on our Lord's day... so I thought you should have these gifts now." He forced on smile on his face. "I will get your gifts then..."

I put my hand on his. "No, not yet. These gifts are not from me. They are from Stephane. He put them in my keeping before he left."

Gilbert took the gift box from me and said, "We gave each other New Year's gifts before he left. How like Stephane to surprise me this way. How I wish Stephane had been here. He loves the Christmas feast so much..."

I kissed Gilbert's cheek and said, "Each of these gifts comes with messages from Stephane that I have committed to memory. The message with this gift is 'I cannot use this without you, my old friend.'"

Gilbert took the box from its pouch. The first genuine smile - since Stephane had left - crossed my husband's face as he opened it. It was a game box that opened into a strange board. There were little odd shaped pieces inside.

Gilbert fingered them gently and said, "We used to play with this by the hour when there was a breaking in the fighting... most often when it rained. I am not sure that you noticed but we played this when I was recovering... after London."

I observed, "Well if Stephane loved playing this game with you, then perhaps he will be back for a rematch. You should look upon this as a good sign..."

Gilbert sighed. "Stephane has not written us as promised. He has not gone back to my parent's estate: I received a letter from my father telling me that. Something has gone terribly wrong... Stephane always keeps his promises."

I took his hand and said, "I must keep mine to him. There is a second gift. The message with this one is 'You should have had this from the start'".

I took a smaller box out of the bag. Gilbert seemed to recognize it immediately. His hands were shaking and he would not take the box from me.

I was surprised when Gilbert said, "Put it to the side. Please lie down with me."

So, I did as I was bid. Gilbert held me close and insisted that I lay my head on his shoulder. "What is it, my dearest?" I asked. "Please tell me."

Gilbert replied, "When we - my elder brother, Stephane, and I - were younger, there was a local contest among the men of a certain age in the village. Its goal was to determine who was the best athlete. Everyone competed for a prize."

"That prize was the golden medal inside that box. Of course, my elder brother, Roger, Stephane, and I were the only real contenders. The contest consisted of a series of challenges. Each challenge was worth a certain number of points."

"Roger, Stephane, and I were even in points going into the round where we had to run on a path through the village. In this challenge, Stephane was sure to win because he was the fastest runner of us all."

"Before we started the race, we took some refreshment. I noticed that - quite unusually for Roger - he handed out the mugs to Stephane and I. Then the race began. Stephane started well and then he started slowing down."

"Since running was not my best event, I just pushed myself to go as fast as I could. I passed Stephane and won the race. When I looked back, I could see that Stephane had fallen to the ground and he was shaking badly."

"I knew at once that Roger had put something in my poor friend's drink. I ran back to him to find Stephane throwing up... and some of it was blood. I took him at once to the physician who proclaimed that he had been poisoned."

"I was furious and that night I confronted Roger and we had a fist fight. I beat Roger so badly that he could not complete the contest. He and I made a pact: that he would not tell of my beating him and I would not tell of his poisoning Stephane (at Stephane's request). So, I went on to win the contest."

"It infuriated my mother that, when I won that medal, I insisted on giving it to Stephane. I told him that if had he won the racing challenge then he would have won the entire contest. Stephane deserved that medal... not I."

I kissed him and said, "We will find Stephane - together you and I - we shall find him. If he is hurt, we shall bring him home and heal his wounds." Gilbert pulled me closer. "Pray God, that you are right, Sauran."

Spring had come bringing another friend of Gilbert's to the castle. He gave us the sad news that Stephane had died of a chill shortly after his arrival in France. He brought - as proof - the ring that Stephane had never taken from his finger. I remember Stephane telling me that Gilbert had given him that ring as a gift.

That explained why we had gotten no news from our dear friend. Gilbert could not say anything. He put Stephane's ring on his smallest finger as it was the only place that it would fit. My poor husband retreated to the silence of his counting room to deal with his grief... and he only emerged to go to bed.

The next day, this man Herbert, and Gilbert started sharing stories about Stephane. That led to sharing stories about Francois. I was touched to see how grieved old Herbert was when he heard of the death of his former pupil.

I insisted that Gilbert take a break from his normal duties so that he could have more leisure to speak about our late friend. As the days went by, I learned that this Herbert had instructed Gilbert, his elder brother Roger, and Stephane in the arts of war. Once Francois was old enough, he joined in the lessons.

Of course, the old man gloried in telling about how he took my husband as a raw recruit and had molded him into a finely tuned fighting machine. To hear him talking, you would have thought that old Herbert had won every battle single-handedly while Roger, Gilbert, Stephane, and later Francois looked on.

Since they had fought side by side with for more than eight years, I reasoned that Herbert could only have survived with the help of the other men. I was surprised to learn that Herbert was still offering himself as a soldier for hire.

Herbert explained that he was between "jobs", he had heard of Stephane's passing, and thought he would "look up" his old friend and condole with him. Sponge off his old friend would have been a more accurate description: Herbert had to have the best of everything: wine, food, soap, you name it.

My dear husband could not refuse Herbert anything... because that old man had saved his life several times. I found Herbert to be boring and obnoxious... and not worth all that my husband was spending for the pleasure of his company.

After two months of Herbert's "company" I was thoroughly sick of the old man and his empty blustering. I tried delicately to suggest that his friend might want to "look up" some other old friends... but Gilbert would not have it.

Being the "great lord of the castle" was very isolating for my naturally gregarious husband. Being Norman only made matters worse for most men his age were Saxons. Besides which Herbert did seem to be easing Gilbert's pain. Except for me, my husband had few people he could converse with as an equal.

With Stephane gone, my husband missed male companionship terribly. Even though I was grateful that Herbert had cheered my husband up with his stories of Stephane, at the same time, I wished him gone. So, I prayed each night that soon Herbert would get a "job" and be on his way to reunite with "old" friends.

So, despite the constant tales of how Herbert's hands were all over the serving girls, I did my best to "grin and bear it" and to protect them from his advances. It got so bad that I had to pair them up so that no female was ever alone with him.

That did not stop Herbert. So, I assigned one of the young and strong Normans to be his bodyguard. Of course, I did not put it that way. I described this man as an "attendant" who was there to cater to the old man's needs.

This had an unexpected result: Gilbert was touched by my "thoughtfulness" about tending to the needs of his old friend. He came into the healing room as I was putting it back into order. My husband showered me with kisses as he threw his arms around me... so I had not the heart to tell him the truth.

So, all I could do was pray for a miracle... and hope that somehow God would find a way to call Herbert to his next assignment.

Again, it was time for the semi-annual Saxon "Day of the Dead" ritual. This time I was surprised to see my mother, my brother, my sister, and her husband all dressed in black. The reason soon became clear: my sister's child had died.

None of them could keep from weeping as they spoke about their merry little child and of his death from a childhood illness. I felt sorry for them. Yet, by now, I was tired of the Saxons treating the Normans as if they did not exist.

When it was my turn to speak, I said, "Today I remember all those who so faithfully served Horsham Castle. I particularly remember Tim who had so wanted to become a doctor but died of the plague. I remember Francois..."

Gasps rippled through the crowd at the mention of a French name. So, I continued, "I remember Francois who had lost an arm in battle but who overcame this to serve faithfully until he fell to his death whilst tending to the damaged roof of Horsham Castle. I remember Stephane..."

Here my words caught in my throat. "I remember Stephane who served the castle excellently well and later became my friend. I honor all their memories..."

I had expected a great clamor to arise from the mention of my Norman friends. By then, the community had become permanently divided: Saxons stayed in town and Normans stayed in the castle. The bitterness was such that the Normans were confined to our castle church so that we could worship in peace.

Yet all that happened was the customary declaration of "Amen" as well as the making of the sign of the cross as if all of these men had been Saxons.

I did not hold back my tears. They were not just for Tim, Francois, and Stephane. They were for Gilbert as well. Despite all his many conversations with Herbert, my husband seemed to me to be as grief stricken as ever.

When the "Day of the Dead" ceremony was ended, people silently made their way back home. I had lingered to place a flower on Tim's grave when I heard my mother's shrill voice shattering the silence.

"Sauran!" she cried. I rose to see that only she and I remained in the grave yard. "You must hear me now. Can't you see that we both have been judged by God for the disharmony inside our family? God took our little boy..."

Her grief was so genuine that it brought more tears to my eyes. She continued, "God took him because we all betrayed you, Sauran. We deserved this sorrow because we should have done more to help you when you were held captive at the castle. We were wrong. We were selfish. We were frightened..."

I could hear no more of my mother's excuses. I said, "Enough, mother! I must be on my way." I turned my back on her and began to walk away.

My mother shouted, "And you Sauran! Have you been judged? How many years now have you been married to de la Mare? Have you been with child even once in all that time? Everyone says that you are barren because you have turned your back on your true and only Saxon family!"

Gilbert and I had been married for more than two years. Despite our non-stop lovemaking once he had recovered, we had still not conceived a child. By then, we both spent little time outside the castle. Yet these evil Saxon words, like pestilence which makes its way through the air, had already reached my ears.

The Saxons and even some Normans said that our childlessness was a sign that God had judged our union to be sinful and unclean. Rumors swirled that my husband kept a Norman mistress on the premises who he kept hidden from view until she had given birth and her child could be passed off as ours.

I turned to face her my mother and found on her knees with her hands clasped in supplication. Her voice shook. "Please, Sauran. Please listen."

"Get up mother," I replied. "There is no need for you to hurt your knees." At times, my mother made grand gestures like this which were meaningless.

My mother rose and moved towards me. "Before..." she began. I knew what she meant: before she had betrayed me. So, I said, "Go on."

Her voice was sad as she continued, "Were we not once quite close? Was I not a loving mother to you? Were you not a loving a daughter to me?"

"I will never forget the day that you flung yourself on your father's back to keep him for beating me further. You, the youngest of them all, were more fierce than a wolf. While your brother and sister watched in silence, you took action!"

"Then when you got our old Lord to banish your father from our lands, I was never prouder of you. I was never sadder than the day our old Lord took you to work in the castle. I have missed you every day that we have been parted."

She pleaded, "Perhaps now that God has balanced the scales between us, we can start afresh. Perhaps we can forgive each other..."

I shook my head and replied, "The key word in those sentences are perhaps. If you will excuse me now, mother, I must return at once to my husband."

My mother fell to the ground and wept pitifully. So I ran as fast as I could to escape the mournful sound. Yes, we had been close. Yes, part of me wanted to forgive my mother. Yet, no, I was not ready to forgive her.

Three days later, my mother's words still rang in my ears. I was still thinking about her as I worked - alone - in the store room trying to assess what we needed to stock up on. Our guest was using up our supplies at an alarming rate. Then who should appear but the man himself - without his bodyguard.

Herbert's breath stank of my husband's best wine stock. I could not stop myself from remarking rather rudely, "A bit early for wine, even for you, monsieur?"

He came closer to me and drooled, "By God, I can see why poor Gilbert is so besotted with you! You must be one lusty wench in the sack!" I just gave him a disgusted sigh, rolled my eyes, and moved away from him.

Yet I quickly discovered how the old man had survived so long as a soldier. Before I saw it, Herbert had punched me hard across the jaw. I fell down.

Once I was on the ground, he was straddled over me. There was a knife in his hand. As I focused my eyes, I saw Herbert cut through the laces of my bodice. Then he sliced open my undergarment baring my breasts.

Fortunately for me, at that moment, Gilbert had entered the store room. Furious, my husband hurled himself against Herbert, knocking him down. I struggled to sit up. I looked around for a weapon but there was no need.

Gilbert was pummeling the old man with his fists. If I had not stopped him, I am certain that my husband would have killed Herbert. After arranging for his ex-friend to be hauled away, my darling threw his cloak over me and then he carried me to our bedchamber (despite my protests).

All along the way, I kept telling him about all the work we had to do that day. Herbert's visit had disrupted our routine... and we were behind schedule in preparing for our next building project but Gilbert would hear none of it.

He kicked open the bedchamber door and put me gently into bed. I was surprised to see him locking the door. "Gilbert..." was the only word that I could get out of my mouth before his lips locked onto mine.

His hands ripped the rest of the torn clothing from my body. I tried to speak but his mouth was glued to mine as he undressed us.

So, I surrendered to the intensity of his desire for me. Truth be told, I was glad to see that Gilbert had returned to his high level of passion (that he had shown me before he had learned that Stephane had died).

It did not take long for him to explode inside me. Then he kept saying, "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me..." Of course, I reassured him all was well as he made love to me all through the day and into the night. We took breaks from our lovemaking only to eat what the snickering servants brought up to us.

All day lovemaking was apparently a Norman custom that was observed in the spring and summer months. Gilbert matched the servants - joke for joke - as they continued to make sly comments and sexual innuendos

As he devoured a choice cut of meat, I remarked, "I am so glad that my merry and cheerful Gilbert has returned to me at long last..."

Gilbert put his food down. He had briefly forgotten about Stephane's death and now I had quite stupidly reminded him of it. Once again, the melancholy cloud had settled over my poor dear husband... and now it was my fault.

I had taken Gilbert back into bed. He laid his head on my shoulder. My voice was shaking as I said, "Please listen to me. I need my merry and cheerful Gilbert to be with me once again. It pains me more deeply than you can know to see you suffer so long in silence over Stephane's death..."

Gilbert sprang up. He gently brushed his fingers over my tears. "Why are you crying, Sauran?" I was so upset that I could only answer by kissing his hand.

His voice shook as he said, "Do you know what Stephane said to me before he left? That he wished you had another sister - who was just like you - so he could marry her and be as happy as we were. I know Stephane would have done that... if he had, he would be safe with us… here in England now..."

The floodgates of Gilbert's tears were unleashed. He wept by the hour as I held him. Through his choking tears, Gilbert finally told the truth about he and Stephane. I was shocked to discover they were not just master and servant. The truth was that Gilbert and Stephane were half-brothers in the flesh.

After his mother had given birth to Roger and Gilbert, she decided that "an heir and a spare" was all her husband needed. So, she embarked on a series of affairs at Court. After two years, Stephane had been the result of them.

His mother retreated to a convent to give birth to Stephane. When she returned home, her husband agreed to keep Stephane on... only if she would not own him. That certainly explained why Stephane was nowhere to be found when Gilbert's parents had visited (because the father could not even look at him).

So, the story became that Stephane was a poor relation whose mother had died. Although he received the same education as Roger and Gilbert, Stephane was but a servant... even though all in the family knew of his true heritage.

All at once, Gilbert had lost with Stephane's death, not only his best friend and his finest servant, but the only family member who he had truly loved and honored. So, it was no wonder that his grief over Stephane had been so deep.

While Gilbert had been occupied with Herbert, without his knowledge, I had a mud bath built inside the castle. I had hoped that some sessions of mud bathing - which could be sensual and erotic - would cheer Gilbert up.

Mud-bathing was a time-honored Saxon custom, especially among those having problems getting a child. Since my husband had shown a loathing for Saxon customs in general, I decided not to share this one with him until I thought he was ready. As fate would have it, Gilbert stumbled across it quite on his own.

One day he ran into the healing room where I was restocking herbs. His face was beet red and he was so flustered that he was unable to speak in English. He spoke so rapidly in French that all I heard was "Come with me!"

My darling took my hand and I could see that we heading for the mud room. I had ordered that the bath be filled with a fine, silky mud so it would be ready for the afternoon. For once, the servants completed their task early.

What I did not know was that another happy couple was already christening the bath. Gillbert opened the door a crack and I saw them both covered in mud. This pair of Normans had Saxon friends in town (who were former servants of the castle). This Norman couple must have found out about how to do erotic mud bathing from their Saxon friends... judging by their movements in the bath.

I had learned enough French to understand that the woman had worked her man into an erection. As if they were native Saxons, we witnessed him entering her through the mud. In a moment, it was clear that the man had ejaculated.

I pulled my husband away from the door. I spoke softly so the other couple would not hear me. I said, "Surprise!" My husband was so shocked that he could not speak for a few moments. Instead, he grabbed my hand and took me to our bedchamber. There Gilbert demanded to know what was going on.

I told Gilbert this was "just another Saxon custom that I know you will think is stupid!" I was waiting for the usual lecture on how "Saxons are barbarians."

I had not anticipated that Gilbert witnessing a sex act in the mud bath would have aroused him so powerfully. Between kisses, I said I had intended that mud bath as a surprise gift for him. Since the heavy rainstorm the day before had dredged up fine silt from the bottom of the stream, I had gotten the servants to collect it and fill up the bath with it. I had not expected them to use it.

Gilbert laid me down on the bed without taking his lips off me. He was so aroused that he just moved my clothes aside so that he could take me quickly. I let him have his way... as I too had been aroused by the sight of the Norman couple making love. In a moment, our passion peaked and then fell.

I was shocked when he whispered breathlessly into my ear, "Sauran, would you come with me into the mud bath... once I have recovered myself..."

I whispered into his ear, "Of course, my dear. I had that bath filled up with that fine mud today just so we could enjoy bathing in it together!"

Later in the afternoon, we returned to the mud bath (which was empty by then). So eager and enthusiastic was Gilbert about mud bathing, you would have thought him to have been born and raised a Saxon!

He did not like the thought of others catching us in the act so soon he had a lock installed on the door that could only be operated from the inside. Gilbert had explained, "We cannot have the peasants interrupting our pleasure!"

I could not stop myself from saying, "The others in this castle are servants and not peasants." I hated it when Gilbert adopted his mother's way of speaking.

The truth was that, despite what he said about her, Gilbert actually admired his mother... and sought to be strong, proud, and decisive like she was. Yet, he, at times, he could also be domineering, heavy handed, and arrogant like she was.

Similarly, Gilbert despised his "weak willed excuse for a father" and so he acted "just the opposite." Unfortunately, his father had some good qualities that my husband would have done well to imitate: like being relaxed, calm, and patient. All these, at times, my husband saw these as signs of weakness.

Mud baths were supposed to draw negativity from the body and mind. This worked better than expected, because - in the bath - Gilbert was finally able to speak about his brother and friend, Stephane, without sadness.

My merry and cheerful Gilbert had finally returned. He was even sad when we had to close up the mud bath because the weather was becoming colder.

That fall, a messenger had come with the news that his father had died. The estate had transferred over to the elder son, Roger. The will had been read.

The messenger brought a huge, ugly China pot that was my darling's only inheritance. My husband could not conceal his hurt. It was not that he wanted money (the castle was doing well), he had just wanted some sign of his parents' esteem for him. I thought this ugly pot showed their true contempt for him.

When we were alone, I was shocked to hear my husband blaming his father for this "clear insult!" He spoke these words in the same haughty tone of voice and disdainful manner of expression as his mother had always used. To be honest, I found it hard to be listen to him when he spoke like his mother.

Worse, Gilbert placed that ugly pot in our bedroom. I was hoping that it would be consigned to the storeroom along with other items of his that I did not like.

He was touching that ugly China pot when he said, "I am amazed that my wretched father went to the expense of sending it to me." There is was: his mother's hateful words pouring from his precious lips in her tone of voice.

Every time his parents had contacted us, Gilbert went through a period of speaking like her. This time, I became so furious about this situation that I took the China pot out of our bedchamber. I raced up the stairs. I flung the hateful thing from roof of the castle to the courtyard below, smashing it.

My astonished husband had followed me because he had never seen me so angry. "Sauran, why did you do that? What is wrong with you?"

Now my true opinions of Gilbert's parents came out in the most painful way as he stared down at the broken pot. I could no longer hold back the truth.

I had never told Gilbert about his mother's part in his imprisonment and torture by the King. At first, this was because he was so ill and I feared to upset him. Then, I thought it would hurt him too deeply to know how readily his mother chose to have him beaten so that he would be forced to sell off the castle... to anonymous buyers (she and her husband!). So, I had just let it go.

Now I blurted out... everything. I told him what I thought of his mother ("hateful, selfish bitch"), his father ("abused, hopeless wretch"), and how he could use "more of your father's tolerance, calmness, and patience" and "less of that vindictive bitch mother's arrogance, hatefulness, and selfishness."

I told him how "when you start acting like your hateful bitch mother I can barely stand it..." To top it all off, I finally admitted "that evil bitch you call a mother was really the mastermind behind your imprisonment and beating by the King!"

My poor husband was devastated. Gilbert did not say a word... he just went down and picked up all the pieces of the broken pot and put them into a bag. My heart melted because he seemed more broken inside than that poor pot.

I flung my arms around Gilbert and begged his forgiveness. He just asked me to return to our bedchamber where he held me close.

When he seemed more relaxed, I said, "I am so sorry. I should have told you about your parents before now. There just never seemed to be a good time." Gilbert interrupted me, "Do I often speak like... her?" He sounded so sad.

I kissed him and replied, "Not often. That is why when you do speak like her, it is so painful for me to hear it... I should not have broken your pot... I wanted to smash your parents - both of them - for all they made you suffer. I can never forgive them for how they had you beaten... and how they plotted against you."

I sighed, "Please forgive me... for breaking your pot..." Gilbert kissed me and said, "I will, Sauran, if you promise me... that if there are any more secrets between us... that you tell me now..."

I looked him in the eye and said, "There are no more secrets... I swear." Gilbert embraced me. I was grateful - from that time forward - he made a conscious effort to act more like his father and less like his mother

After I broke Gilbert's China pot, I went out of my way to make it up to him. I gave him erotic massages. I made him special dinners. I sang to him (which I really did not like to do) but he seemed to enjoy it and often called for songs.

If there was one thing in our marriage that I was truly sorry for... it was breaking my beloved's ugly China pot that he had inherited from his father. Every so often I would see Gilbert open the box where the pieces were stored... a sad look would pass over his face... and I would feel as guilty as sin.

I had often asked him if I could arrange to have it repaired but he would refuse. He said that it would never look the same and it was best to leave it as it was.

I had tried to find a replacement but he did not want one. It tore at my heart when Gilbert said - with deep sadness - that it could not be replaced.

I even swallowed my pride and wrote to his mother asking where I could get an identical one... no reply. The other Normans had never seen a pot quite like that one. Even visiting merchants had no idea where to get one.

After a while, I finally got Gilbert to tell me why this pot had meant so much to him. His uncle - who he was named after - had (supposedly) gotten this pot from China. From what the other Norman servants told me, this uncle was a habitual liar... but he had always been very good and kind to my husband.

This pot was all that my darling had left of him (the uncle died far from home). When he was a boy, my husband had spent hours looking at it and imagining that he would travel to the faraway scenes depicted on the pot. It inspired him to become a soldier. I could not stop myself from crying at hearing this sad tale.

I kept on saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." but that just was not enough somehow. I kept on searching for another one when I found a merchant who broke the sad news that in his many years of selling pots he had never seen one quite like it.

Then this enterprising merchant gave me an idea about how to bring the broken pieces back to life... in a way that was sure to please my husband.

It was nearing winter and my husband had arranged a hunting party to lay on extra meat for the castle. As soon as he was gone, I hustled the merchant inside our bedroom so that he could work on "our China pot" project.

It was slow and painstaking work but it did not take long for me to see that my husband was sure to be delighted with the result. There was just one problem... he and his men arrived home a day early... and the merchant was still working!

As often happened when he had a great hunt, my husband was in the mood for love. So, I wined him and dined him in our private dining room. After dinner, I danced and sang for him... hoping to delay him from taking me to bed.

Finally, Gilbert swept me up into his arms and announced we were retiring for the evening. He said that my dancing had aroused him deeply

I asked him if he was sure that he did not want more wine as we made our way up the stairs. He said that he wanted to see my naked body illuminated by the fading light of the sunset. Then he started into sexually explicit talk in French.

I should have worded it better because he put me down, unsheathed his sword, and ran into our bedchamber. The merchant had just finished installing the last scene from the pot over the fireplace. My husband's mouth dropped open. He re-sheathed his sword and walked slowly toward the new work of art.

As if in a trance, Gilbert ran his fingers over each scene of the pot in turn. The merchant had done a flawless job of repairing and installing each one. Since each scene was showcased, this display was actually better than the original. This way Gilbert could enjoy his favorite pot all at once... forever.

For once in his life, my talkative husband was speechless. The merchant was confused, "Is not my Lord pleased with my humble efforts?"

I moved forward and said, "My husband is more than pleased. You have done an excellent job. Come by tomorrow so that we can settle your account." The merchant bowed and once he was gone, my husband's lips and hands were all over me. Needless to say, this led to the most passionate round of lovemaking.

It was Christmas and there was a feast the castle. All throughout the feast, my darling husband kept picking up my hand and kissing it. When he did so, his men would hoist their mugs and shout words in French that I did not recognize (and was not sure I wanted to). How I wished Stephane could have seen this.

Everyone was filing out of the main hall and was heading for the church. Gilbert had cleverly constructed a passage between them so no one had to go outside in bad weather. Apparently, this design was common in Normandy.

At that moment, a servant brought in a snow covered woman and her child. My husband instantly sat her by the fire as I made her up a plate of food. As she and her daughter devoured the meal, she explained that the heavy snow had collapsed the roof of her house. It caught fire and now they were homeless.

My generous husband immediately offered her a position at the castle with free lodgings. She quickly accepted and became overwhelmed with gratitude. The poor woman kissed his hand and then she moved to kiss him on the cheek.

My husband pulled back explaining, "Only my lady wife may kiss me there..." She apologized to me and I assured her that no harm was done.

I assigned a servant to see to the woman's needs. Then I reminded Gilbert that the church service could not start without him. So, we excused ourselves and headed to the church through the newly constructed passage way.

Once we were alone in the corridor, I grabbed Gilbert and pushed him against the wall. He was startled but he did not resist me. I pressed my lips against his before he could speak. I kissed my husband passionately as I heard him in my mind saying, "Only my lady wife may kiss me there..."

I was so aroused by his kindness and generosity to the poor woman and her child as well as his non-stop affection for me. I just had to have him... as soon as possible. When I pulled away from him, I said, "After the service, Gilbert, I want to take you to bed and make love to you..."

He was speechless as I took his hand and led him to the church. Once there, he did what he usually did and moved his heavy cloak around us both... to keep us warm. I took the opportunity of slipping my hand between his legs... and massaging his manhood which I could feel swelling beneath his clothes.

By the time the service was over, my husband could not get me out of the church fast enough. I was laughing as he swept me up in his arms and literally ran all the way to our bedroom. The loving that followed was spectacular!

That winter, while we were confined to the castle, Gilbert had turned his hand to stone carving. He decided that our church should have a memorial for Stephane. So, he painstakingly carved one. I would not have guessed that it was a first attempt on his part. It looked as fine as any I had ever seen.

I was quite moved by the inscription that Gilbert had made beneath Stephane's name. "For my true knight, my true friend, my true brother, Stephane. Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal."

Once spring had come, Gilbert put it up. Many of the Normans who had known Stephane gathered around as he did so. They shared their own memories of our friend. Although I dared not say it, this reminded me of the Saxon "Day of the Dead" ritual. This time I did not speak, I just rubbed Gilbert's back to keep him calm as the other Norman's gave their own tributes.

By then, we had seen that those Normans who had stayed with the castle did so if they had brought a wife and family with them. Those who had left, like Stephane, did so because there was no prospect of finding a mate among the Saxons. Sadly, the division between town and castle was as great as ever.

Gilbert had hit on a novel plan: he would pay the passage - for any single Norman who wished to marry and settle on the estate - back and forth from France. This way single Norman servants - who wanted to remain in England - could find a Norman wife and bring her back to the castle.

This worked better than expected. Our small community was growing into a larger one. Now the Normans could be self-sufficient and not rely on Saxons in the town for anything that was essential. This made Gilbert very happy.

Honestly, it made life easier all the way around. The Normans did not wish to consort with the Saxons any more than the Saxons wanted to consort with the Normans. On Sundays, this allowed everyone to be able to observe a day of rest. All in all, except that Stephane was not here, Gilbert and I were content.

One Sunday, my husband and I were strolling through the castle grounds. We were outside the walls, discussing future building projects.

A steady stream of half French, half English was flowing between us as easily as the water in the nearby stream. Except for our childlessness, we were happy. All that changed in a split second. A party of men came out of nowhere.

They instantly overpowered my husband, knocking him unconscious. One of them started stripping him of his valuables while the others grabbed me.

I started pleading for them to leave poor Gilbert alone. All I heard were the words "Norman whore" before I was knocked unconscious.

I awoke to find myself, bound, gagged, and stripped down to my under-garments in a dark, cold cellar. I could hear men talking outside. From what I could piece together of their conversation, I was being held for ransom.

One man asked the question, "Do you think he would really pay for her?" Then another man - a disgruntled Saxon servant who used to work at the castle - said, "He is totally besotted (in love) with her... he would pay anything to get her back. Best that we do not poke (rape) her... that man has a vile temper!"

Hearing this, I felt strangely comforted. There was simply no doubt in my mind that my husband would come to my rescue. Plus, the servant was right: Gilbert would have killed any man who had dared to violate me.

I should have been frightened... but a warm wave of sexual desire filled me as I envisioned him coming to my rescue. And I did not have long to wait... only a few hours had passed when the doors of their house were broken down.

The well fed, well trained Norman shock troops easily overpowered the starving Saxons. Once they were subdued, my husband called out for me.

I shouted as loudly as I could through the gag. Gilbert hurled his massive body against the door to the cellar and broke it open. Seeing me there, he shut the door behind us. He took out his knife and quickly cut the gag and the ropes off of me. Then our lips locked passionately for a few moments.

I was shivering from the cold so he took off his shirt and his cloak and wrapped me in them. A torrent of half French, half English flowed between us. I quickly answered the question that I knew he was afraid to ask.

I whispered, "They have not violated what is yours and yours alone. Except for the loss of my clothes and being torn from your loving arms, I am unharmed, my love." Gilbert covered me with kisses of profound relief.

I melted into his arms and said, "I knew you would come for me. My faith in you sustained and comforted me, my dearest." He lifted me up and carried me to his horse (for they had taken my shoes to stop me from escaping).

We rode home together my front curled into his back. I kept remembering their words: "he would pay anything to get her back..." and so he did.

When we were alone, Gilbert insisted that I - again - be accompanied by a body guard whenever I was outside of the castle. Worse, he now decided that a new wall needed to be constructed around the Norman settlement.

When I was taken, we were debating that topic. I wanted to have a separate building where the ill could recover for a while under supervision. Now when someone was treated, they stayed in the quiet healing room for only a few days before they were forced to move back home. This was a problem when many fell ill at the same time... and when care at home was not reliable.

Yet, now events settled matters. Gilbert would build that wall instead. In fact, all the Norman men assisted with that project after their normal duties were done. They reckoned that if I could be taken then their women were at risk. So, I saw very little of my husband while the new wall was going up.

After the wall was finished, I hoped that Gilbert would return to his normal schedule of duties. I was sadly mistaken: he started to work even harder on rebuilding the church which had been damaged during a lightning storm.

What was worse - is that my usually talkative and open husband became increasingly and unusually quiet and secretive. What was most worrying was that before the attack, we would spend at least a half hour in bed kissing and caressing one another in the morning and at night.

Now, Gilbert was up and out before I woke and he fell into bed at night and slept instantly. I would catch him whispering with the servants and abruptly stopping whenever I came nearer. He got a strong box... that he did not let me see... and he was constantly putting papers in it and then locking them up.

When I asked him about what he was doing, Gilbert just said that the castle church was in need of repairs (except, of course, for my sturdy, well constructed windows!). Without giving anyone a good reason, my husband decreed that the construction on the church had to be completed by a certain date.

As that date grew nearer, Gilbert hired extra crews and worked longer hours to get the job done on time. This was creating an unreasonable hardship for the workers and an unnecessary strain on castle operations (and on the budget!).

So, I got many requests to ask my husband to reconsider his completion date. When I did so, Gilbert flat out refused. Worse, during the final two weeks, he locked himself in the church and allowed only the work crews to enter.

I began to miss my husband terribly and I pleaded with him to let me in but he would just say that he loved me... and then he asked me to leave.

When I had resisted him, my husband had told me everything... now that we were in love, we seemed to have many secrets. I was so upset that I looked at myself in the mirror: to see if or how I had grown unattractive. I looked the same physically but mentally and emotionally I was in despair.

Finally, the appointed day was at hand. I was surprised when a hairdresser arrived and arranged my hair. She brought a note with her from Gilbert. He asked me to let her do my hair and then to put on the dress she had brought.

So, I did as I was told... except that I put some flowers in my hair... knowing how much this was bound to please him. I wanted to see Gilbert right away but the hairdresser was until strict orders to keep me out of the church until a certain hour. As the time drew near, I could see workmen running out of the church carrying construction tools and other items with them.

At last, the hour had arrived. The rebuilt church was magnificent: everything gleamed and sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the windows. It was crammed with flowers and greenery... I was overwhelmed by the beauty and excellence of all the loving work that had perfected the church.

The church was beautifully decorated with lots of small candles, dozens of silken banners (of the de la Mare heraldry), and other lovely decorations. The immense planning this must have taken certainly explained all of my husband's unusual activities in recent weeks. Even Gilbert himself was finely dressed.

In fact, my husband had never seemed more handsome to me. Someone had even tamed his normally wild black hair into perfect order. He wore a suit of clothes of the fashionable kind I had seen at the Court of King William. The colors in his clothes perfectly matched mine... which I then realized were the same colors as those featured in the de la Mare heraldry.

My darling knelt before me and kissed my hand. "How beautiful you are, my dearest Sauran," he said. I could not help but ask, "What is this all about?"

He rose. "Do you know what today is?" I had known there was some reason Gilbert had chosen this date but after racking my brains, I had no idea what "today" meant. I shook my head. He explained, "Six years ago today, I arrived at this castle... and I met you... and my life truly began..."

I was too stunned to say a word. I thought Gilbert had been moving away from me... when what he was actually doing was moving us closer together.

He continued, "When a man and a woman have been together in love for six years... it is the Norman way for them to recount the blessings of their life together. Since I alone am Norman, it falls to me..."

I was so moved by all of Gilbert's hard work and thoughtfulness - just to show his love for me - that I embraced him. All I could say was, "I love you so much..." as my husband wrapped his arms around me.

I showered him with kisses as Gilbert slowly twined his fingers in my hair. He whispered in my ear, "From the first moment that I beheld you, I have looked forward to this day. I knew in my heart that you were the one I wanted be with."

My husband kissed me and whispered in my ear, "I hoped and prayed and worked so hard for you to love me... and you do... I just never thought that... things could be so wonderful between us... I never could have imagined..."

His voice trailed off. I kissed his ear and said, "I thank God for the blessing of you in my life each and every day. You are right... things are so wonderful between us... they are so much better than I ever could have hoped for."

I added, "Even if I were to have prayed to God to send me a miracle, I could not have imagined a better one than you..." Gilbert smiled and kissed me... as passionately as if we had been in our romantic bedroom (and not in church).

I was hoping that Gilbert would take me to bed... but that was not how the Norman blessing ritual worked. While still holding me close, Gilbert began to speak the most beautiful words of love that I had ever heard. I was so touched and moved... that I could not stop myself from crying.

Gilbert ended his speech by saying, "You look like a Queen, Sauran! So, Your Royal Highness, will you do your most humble servant the highest honor of becoming his wife?" All I could say was, "Gilbert, I am your wife..."

My husband took my hands in his and said, "We did not have a proper wedding the first time. I wanted you to have one now, especially since you agreed to the arranging of your hair just to please me..." That made me smile.

Gilbert continued, "We need to take back what the King took from us... namely our wedding day... come, my love, let us go to the priest..." He scooped me up in his arms. "I think no one will mind if we hurry this along a bit..."

Until this point, the Normans who filled the pews of the church had sat in quite silence. Now they got to their feet. The men cheered and clapped. The women smiled and cried. By now, our Norman community had grown very close to one another. To me, they were like the family I never had.

As Gilbert carried me down the aisle, I looked from face to face... mostly Normans but some Saxons who were considered to be Normans by the town.

Each face had a story that flashed through my mind. These stories were joyful, sorrowful, and somewhere in between. All of them were connected to Gilbert and I in some way and I hoped that they all shared in our joy.

So we were wed again: I only wished that Stephane could have performed our the service. I know that Gilbert would have wanted that as well. I hoped that Stephane and my grand-father were looking down at us from Heaven. Quite unaccountably, I wished that my mother could have seen how truly wonderful Gilbert was at this moment... and how blessed I was to be his wife.

From time to time, the beauty of this ceremony overwhelmed me with desire... but I was determined to do things his way. I did nothing to spoil Gilbert's carefully orchestrated wedding day... I simply relaxed and enjoyed it.

The wonderful feeling from our second wedding day stayed with us for a very long time after that. I found myself smiling as the memories of that special day kept coming to my mind. Gilbert seemed almost to be reborn: he was as vigorous and as energetic as he had been before he was beaten.

It was a week after we were wed. That day I could not resist taking a few moments to stop into the Norman church to pray and give thanks for my dear husband. I had been there for only a few moments when I saw a young woman rise from one of the pews. She was definitely a Saxon.

My voice was harsher than I intended when I asked, "What is your business here?" The girl reached down into the pew and picked up a package.

"She said you would be here... that you like to pray. She said I wouldn't have to wait long for you to come to the church. I was sure I'd be here all day..." The girl walked toward me as I asked her, "Who sent you to me?"

Her answer surprised me. "Your mother. She saved my life... and so I owed her a favor. I waited until it was busy at the gate and then I slipped past your Normans. Everyone was far too busy working to notice me..."

The girl handed me the package. She said, "The cloth this is wrapped in is mine..." I unwrapped it: I found a circlet made of ribbons inside. Around the band holding it together were decorations in the shape of summer flowers.

The girl rather rudely took back her cloth. "Your mother says she heard you remarried your Norman fellow. This is her wedding gift to you..."

Gilbert's voice was rather rude as he commanded, "Your business is done here, girl. You best go now." Apparently, he had heard everything, including her insult of him. The girl seemed rather relieved as she scurried away.

My husband - without asking me - took my cap off. He placed the circlet on my head. Then he undid my braid and let my hair flow freely. He said, "You are so beautiful, Sauran. Let me work beside you in the barn today... so I can take my time to admire your mother's gift as well as your beautiful golden hair."

So even though I hated to work with my hair loose, I could not refuse Gilbert. I must confess, I greatly enjoyed how much he admired me in that circlet.

Gilbert would have liked me to wear that circlet everyday... but that was very impractical. So, I agreed to leave it in our bedchamber for him to admire. Summer had gone and the fall harvest was upon us all too quickly.

That fall my husband was out inspecting the fields. He wanted to make sure that every last plant had been properly harvested. At the time, I was working in the barn making sure that the harvest was being properly stored.

Out in the field, Gilbert suddenly started to shake uncontrollably. He fell off his horse. Fortunately, he was with Philippe who had taken over Stephane's duties in running the castle. The servants carried their master back to the castle at once and put him into the main healing room. One of them came and got me.

I instantly knew what was wrong with him. "He is poxed," I cried as terror filled my body. "Bring him to our bedchamber. Raise the flags. Close the castle..."

My husband was convulsing so badly that we had no choice but to tie his hands and feet to the corners of the bed... just as he had done to me so long ago. I could see that he was trying to control his movements but was unable to do so.

I felt panic rising inside me at my strong husband's sudden helplessness. Only this morning he had felt vigorous enough to make passionate love to me. Now he was struck down with illness and it was all I could do to remain calm.

He shouted, "I... must speak... with my wife... alone..." I nodded and all the servants left the room. He got right to the point. "Am I going to die?"

I put on a brave smile. "Not if I can help it... you have yet to finish building my library, Gilbert... and so I cannot allow you to die... my books need a home!"

Gilbert knew I was joking and he managed a weak smile. I quickly got him some wine. As I helped my husband to drink it, I said, "It is best if you get some sleep... Just give me a moment to fix you some herbal remedy..."

Gilbert pulled against the ropes binding his hands. "Do not leave me. Do not let me sleep. I fear I shall not wake up. Tell me a story... to keep me awake... please I beg of you." At that moment, a servant knocked wishing further instructions... and after arranging for my Lord's herbal healing remedy, he left.

My poor husband was writhing with pain but he demanded, "A story! Please, tell me a story." I caressed his cheek. "What do you wish to hear?" He forced a smile. "The one... you have always... refused to tell me..."

He had always wanted to know what I had really thought about him the day we met. I was reluctant to tell him... because it was not good news.

I said, "I thought you to be a handsome man..." Pain racked his voice as he shouted, "I want the truth!" The truth was not even remotely romantic.

At this point, my husband demanded to know what I had thought of his body. "You had never seen... as handsome or as... well hung... a man as I... had you?" Only my Gilbert would have focused on that at such a moment!

I smiled, "I have never seen a more handsome or a more 'well hung' man than you!" He started to cough and I helped him up and gave him more wine.

He continued, "How many men have you seen naked?" I sighed, "We Saxons are far more relaxed about our bodies than you Normans are!"

This philosophical discussion was interrupted by the servant who brought in the healing posset I had ordered. My husband was uncharacteristically rude as he dismissed the servant... I thought it was the pain talking... but it was not.

Once we were alone, he said, "Will that drink... put me... to sleep?" I sighed. "What you need most is sleep..." He interrupted, "I have heard tales that those who are not from here and have been poxed twice usually die in their sleep..."

I took his hands and put them over my heart. "I swear to you upon my deep and abiding love for you... that you, Gilbert de la Mare, will not die..."

Gilbert started shaking. "If you believe that I shall die, waken me... I do not want to leave you... without saying 'Goodbye'..." I nodded my agreement.

I ran my fingers through his thick black hair which was now edged by a touch of gray. I now told my husband what I knew to be true. "Most who die of the pox in my experience are awakened by the pain just before they... die."

"Yet to set your mind at rest, my dearest Gilbert, I promise to waken you. You are a fine strong man... and although you will sicken, you will not die of being poxed twice. If you want to live, then you will drink this posset, my dearest..."

Gilbert took the cup and drank it to its end. He said, "Two things more I must know, Sauran. I have heard that... sometimes... when men survive the pox twice... that they are unable to... pleasure their women like a man..."

I kissed him. "That happens rarely, Gilbert. When it does, it only seems to effect men small in their bodies... One as large as you are, my dearest, is unlikely to be effected..." His voice trembled as he asked, "...but if I am effected... and I feel desire for you... in my heart... but I cannot..."

I laid my fingers gently on his lips. "If the castle was under siege... would you devote any men to putting on an entertainment? Of course, you would not."

"You would send all of them to defend the walls and the gates. That is what your body is doing right now... it is devoting all your strength to preserving your life. Once you are well, you shall feel fully a man again. And if not, I know of herbs that can help to enflame your desire should it be lacking..."

Gilbert looked surprised. "Why... have you... never told me... of such herbs?" I smiled. "Oh my dearest, you never had any need of them. I have only told you of them to ease your mind. You are so full of natural passion that I am not at all concerned that the pox will diminish it... Please, you must rest now..."

The bed shook from the violence of a convulsion that ripped through his body. I had no choice but to lay on top of him... to keep him from being hurt by his own thrashing. Then the posset began to take effect and his convulsions grew less.

Although Gilbert was groggy, the panic in his voice was still apparent. "I cannot sleep yet... one thing more... Please, Sauran, tell me..."

I got up so that I can look him in the eye. His eyelids were fluttering. "Did you love him? Do you bear me any ill will because I took you from him?"

I asked, "Him?" My darling dug his fingers into his palm to focus his mind. "Your sister's husband... the one you would have married but for me?"

I was genuinely surprised. We had lived and loved one another for years by then. I thought, what did that matter now? Yet clearly, this must have been bothering my poor husband the entire time. Truth be told, I had ceased to think about Robert Miller at all on the day I learned that he had betrayed me.

Yet I had offered to answer him and so I said, "I thought I loved Robert Miller at the time... all those years ago... but I did not know what love was until you taught me, Gilbert. You were right about Robert - I remember that you called him a plow horse... and if I am honest, I shared that opinion of him."

"You were right to take me from him at the time. I could never bear you any ill will, my dearest. I love you with all my heart, Gilbert de la Mare... So If you love me as well, for Jesus' sake, then you will do as you are bid... and sleep now."

I stroked his hair. I began singing a French lullaby that I had heard some of the Norman women sing to their children. A smile spread over Gilbert's face. "I love it when you speak French to me..." Then, mercifully, he fell into sleep.

My poor husband suffered so badly from the pox that I kept him asleep for as long as possible. When Gilbert was awake, he would call for a story. Since I was so worried about him, I told him things I had been reluctant to speak of… just to keep his mind engaged. I hoped this would help him feel less pain.

Yet I realized that if God had decided that my dearest Gilbert was to leave me, then it was best if he could depart with his mind and his heart at peace.

The questions he asked me were not what I expected. This one amazed me, "Why, Sauran, did it take you so long to understand that I truly loved you?"

I rested my hand on Gilbert's heart and said, "You have more wisdom here than I do. You followed your heart... I obeyed my head. I am grateful that you did what was best for both of us... honoring your deepest, passionate desire..." I took his hand and kissed it. He was tired and drifted back to sleep.

After that, Gilbert slept for nearly a week. I tried to stay awake as much as possible... but finally I too was weary. So, I laid on the bed beside him: he under the covers, me over them. I awoke to find him caressing me.

Gilbert smiled and said, "I feel a little better..." I put my hand on his forehead, "You still are a bit feverish..." He caressed my breasts gently and said, "Is it any wonder? You are as beautiful and as enticing as ever."

I said playfully, "This answers a question I have always had... When I was in the North Tower, after I almost fell from the wall, you did fondle my breasts as I slept, didn't you?! Truth now since I have answered your questions!"

"Guilty as charged," Gilbert admitted. I could not resist leaning over and kissing him. When he protested, I reminded him that I had survived six cycles of the pox. Yet my husband made me swear not to kiss him again until he was better.

I added, "Just remember that we kissed the first time that you were poxed and I survived it." Gilbert took my hand and kissed it.

He said in his sweetest voice. "I will never forget that. It was the first kiss we shared that gave me hope... that you could love me as much I loved you..."

Although my husband's fever had broken, his body was covered in seeping sores created by the pox. Each one of them had to be cleaned and dressed... it was a time consuming and painful process. As I worked my way over my darling's naked body, Gilbert asked for a story to keep his mind off the pain.

I made the mistake of asking, "What would you like to hear?" "Tell me about your Saxon family. You never speak of them."

I felt like saying there were good reasons for that. My sister and my brother had never cared for me at all... as far as I was concerned they were no better than strangers. Indeed, the only people that I had ever thought of as my family were my late grand-father and my mother. Yet, Gilbert had asked so I would do my best to make sure that no secrets remained between us.

I began, "Did you never wonder why such a young woman was left in charge of the castle? There were any number of men to take my place."

When the pain let him reply, he said, "I did wonder but you seemed so capable at doing your job, I just assumed your exceptional abilities had merited it..."

I sighed and kissed him on the top of his head briefly. "My 'exceptional' abilities kept me in the post... they did not get me there to begin with."

"Our old Saxon Lord had practiced his own version of the right 'de seigneur'... only he never forced a woman to do anything that she did not want to do. He was still a handsome man even in his old age when I knew him..."

Gilbert's voice shook as he asked, "Oh my God, he was your father, wasn't he? That is why the Saxons were always so resentful of you..."

Then another realization hit him. "Oh my God, it was not just your master I killed but your real father... no wonder you hated me so much at first..."

I sighed. "Yes, our old Saxon Lord was my real father. He was kinder and better to me than the man - who others mistakenly thought - was my father. When my old Lord found my mother weeping in the forest, they fell to talking. Their talking led to lovemaking... and eventually that led to my birth."

Pain shot through Gilbert's body but that did not stop him from saying, "That is why you resisted me for so long... it was not just because I was your 'Norman oppressor'… it was because I was your father's killer... Marrying me and living in the castle must have felt like dishonoring his memory somehow."

I kissed the top of his head and said, "Only at first, dearest Gilbert. Our old Lord had two sons by his married wife but they died in battle. His wife, overcome by grief, fell ill, and then died within months of their sons."

"Our old Lord often said that I had the most ability of any of his offspring. That is why he chose to teach me how to run the castle... so that he could make sure that it would be kept in trustworthy hands. That is why I stayed with the castle... to honor his memory. Also, I wished to support my family with my wages."

Now it was time to tell Gilbert the entire truth about Robert Miller. "I know that you hate... my sister's husband... but only he was kind to me while I was growing up. I was one of the few who was kind to him. He has deformities: he has a witch mark on his arm and he has six toes on each of his feet."

"His father claimed that his mother had slept with the devil... and so he beat her to death. His son proved to be much stronger and survived those beatings... until he was big and strong enough to put an end to them."

"After my mother's husband was banished by the old Lord, Robert came every day to our farm after he completed work for his father. After a while, our family felt duty bound to repay all his kindnesses... and so we were engaged."

He sighed. "That is why you two never kissed or touched... you were bonded by duty and by not love." With his mind at rest, Gilbert drifted back to sleep.

My husband's body was shaking with a terrible bout of the chills. His thrashing around was so violent that we had to use more restraints on him. Now his head, his arms, his torso, and his legs were tied in addition to his hands and feet. This was the only way that we could keep Gilbert from hurting himself.

That is what made the plague so terrible... the patient could seem to be well on the road to recovery and then have a violent relapse... like poor Gilbert was having. The only thing that helped him... was me telling him stories.

"Since you asked about my Saxon family, there are a few more things you should know. You may have noticed that my sister and my brother are really just strangers to me. The truth is they hate me. The old Saxon Lord refused to invite them to the castle... such was his hatred for our mother's husband."

"When my sister and my brother found out that they could not visit the castle, they blamed me for it... even though my old Saxon Lord had ordered it... That is why they were so excited when you invited them to the castle for luncheon. They had been to many festivals but never to a private luncheon."

My husband's voice was wracked with pain as he asked, "Do you miss them?"

I touched his cheek. "Truth be told, the only one I miss is my mother. Before... when I was young, she was very good to me. She taught me all I know about healing. At times - like now - because you have fallen ill, I wish she was here to given me advice on how to treat you... I am sure she is tending to the family."

Gilbert raised his hand as far as he could above the restraint. So I held it. He said, "Just as you are tending to YOUR family, Sauran. I and all the Normans in and around the castle are so grateful for YOUR healing skills." With that Gilbert had exhausted all his strength and he drifted into sleep.

My darling husband fought the pox with all his might. I knew he was winning the battle when he developed a high fever... his body’s way of burning out the poison of the pox. Of course, he called for another story. So, as I bathed his naked body with water to cool his heated flesh, I obeyed his request.

Gilbert wanted to know the TRUE story of my visit with the sage. I should have seen that one coming. As time went on, I became ever more interested in books. The more I read, the more I wanted to read. My husband did not share my interest. In fact, as time went on, he grew increasingly jealous of my books.

Many times, he would rip a book from my hand and take me into his arms. We would kiss and caress (which I enjoyed). So, I tried not to read in front of him. I found that reading while I did tedious work made the time pass more pleasantly.

Just before my husband had fallen ill, a renowned sage had decided to make a pilgrimage to England to see its sacred sites. Hearing that he would be passing by the castle, I wrote and invited him to stay with us on the night he would be in our area. I confess that I did not seek Gilbert's permission to do this.

My husband was none too pleased at the thought of me speaking privately with another man. It did not matter that the man was old enough to be my grand-father... Gilbert did not want me to see any man alone.

The sage just smiled at my husband's obviously misplaced jealousy. Then the sage and I started talking. My wide ranging knowledge (such as was available to me!) impressed the sage. So, we ended up speaking on esoteric religious topics for four hours straight... which was an unexpected blessing.

Although my darling squeezed my hand reassuringly whenever I looked over at him from time to time, I knew that this whole conversation was mystifying to him.

It was like we both were speaking in some foreign language - instead of English - that Gilbert could not understand. Finally, the sage put an end our discussion, as well as to my poor husband's misery, by claiming weariness.

The sage had breakfasted with us and he was taking his leave... or so we both thought. The sage addressed Gilbert and said, "My Lord, I beg your kind indulgence. I require a few moments of your lady wife's time... alone."

As he could not think of a good enough reason to object, my husband allowed the sage and I to take a short walk into the garden alone.

At this point in the story, Gilbert demanded, "You have never spoken of what the sage said to you alone... so you must tell me all... now!"

As ill as Gilbert was, his voice crackled with jealousy. I was genuinely surprised by his reaction. Quite clearly, there was no time the sage and I to have done anything more than share a few words. I knew that he was spying on us at a distance through the hedges... and he could see that nothing was amiss.

So, I said, "The sage sat me down on the bench in the center of the garden. I was eagerly waiting for the deep mysteries of the universe to be revealed to me. Yet he asked me, 'You love your husband with your whole heart, do you not?'"

"I naturally answered, 'Yes, I do.'" Gilbert grunted, "That cannot be all of it."

I bent down and whispered, "I do love you with my whole heart. The sage was right about that... yet are you sure you want to know more?"

Gilbert sighed, "Of course, I do! I would not have asked you otherwise." So I admitted, "The sage told me, 'After today, you must open more of your heart to your husband...' As you can image, Gilbert, I told the sage that, "There is nothing that I do not share with my husband!"

Gilbert snapped, "Except for your private conversation with the sage!" Since Gilbert was still so ill, I thought it best to stop teasing him.

"The sage laughed at me and said, 'You do not share your interest in religion with him. It was quite clear that your husband did not understand most of what we were discussing!" I kissed his ear and whispered, "Is that true, Gilbert?"

Gilbert's pain was making him impatient. "Get on with the story." I said, "I told the sage that 'If it is not farming or hunting or gaming or building, my husband is not interested!' To which, he replied, 'Perhaps that was true once... but what is true now is your husband wants to know more about religion...'"

We both knew how accurate the sage's words had been. Indeed, after the sage's visit, Gilbert had - on his own - started reading religious books.

"I will own that I could not stop myself from laughing. The sage simply said, 'Your husband has no sincere religious vocation. Yet today he understands that religion is very important to you... and because it is so important to you... he now wants to know more about it... because you are so important to him...'"

"The sage then told me, 'Try sharing with him what you are reading... if I am wrong, no harm done... if I am right, then your husband will be relieved of the burden of having to ask what is going on inside that wonderful mind of yours.'"

"Then the sage rose and added, "Now let us go and meet your lord before he charges into this garden to find out what we are doing in here!"

Gilbert seemed relieved as he said, "I was thinking about rushing into the garden to discover what you had spoken about. I wish I had asked you about that day sooner. I was so worried that the old man had done something to you!"

I kissed his ear and whispered, "You were worried that he would do something to lessen my desire for you... but you have abundant evidence, Gilbert, that your wife loves you as much - if not more - than she ever did."

As Gilbert recovered from the pox, I had to constantly remind my husband that, because he had got his sex drive back once (after he was severely beaten), he could do so again. That not only comforted Gilbert but it proved to be true.

I wish I could say that my husband fully recovered from battling the plague relatively late in life... but he did not. My dearest Gilbert did get back his sex drive but it was clear that he would wrestle with bouts of impotence for the rest of his days. I had to remind him that it was quality - not quantity - that mattered.

One night, Gilbert was absolutely inconsolable. I said, "My dear, you are pushing yourself too hard. Your passion will return... just not tonight."

I put my arms around Gilbert. "Let us remember another night... I will never forget how you undressed that particular time... as if you had total confidence in yourself as a man... in your ability to please me... and to please yourself."

"This put me at my ease. Then when you came to bed and took me in your arms, I could feel your gentleness and your strength. I could feel your love for me as if it were something that I could reach out and touch..."

Gilbert could not stop himself from adding bitterly, "It used to be something you could reach out and touch... but not right now..."

I kissed his head. "Strange that you should be right about so much… except this. At this moment, you are even more a man than you were back then. For everything that we had lived through and shared fills your arms now, making them even more gentle, and even more strong... Your arms now hold so many precious memories for me... and that is why you are better than ever..."

This calmed and comforted him greatly. So, Gilbert asked me to recount more details about our romantic past together. Indeed, he grew to love me telling him stories about our lovemaking from my perspective and I was happy to oblige.

In fact, this story telling happened several times each month from then on. On New Year’s, he would always ask for a longer story as one of his gifts.

This became his favorite story. We were out inspecting our fields. The harvest was over and frequent rainstorms had caused the grass to shoot up. There was a clap of thunder and buckets of rain fell. In a matter of minutes, we were both soaked to the skin. I was annoyed but a mysterious smile spread over his face.

I was headed toward an outbuilding when he hooked my arm and stopped me. I turned around to see that he had thrown his cape and shirt on top of the tall grass. I was startled as he kicked off his high boots and then shed his pants. Raindrops glistening on his skin made Gilbert look even more handsome.

I was frozen with desire as I looked at his naked body. Only the strong yank as he pulled off my skirt snapped me back into reality. Another yank and my laces broke as he ripped off my bodice. A last pull on my under-gown and I was as naked as he was. Now the warm rain was clinging to and soothing my skin.

My darling only admired my nakedness for a moment before pulling me onto his makeshift bed of clothes. The rain and the thunder were almost deafening but I could hear what he said when he pressed his mouth to my ear. "I know that we will be blessed this time, my dearest, loveliest Sauran. I can feel it..."

With the tall grass to shield us from view and the warm rain caressing us, we felt closer than ever before. Our lovemaking was slow as we moved in harmony with the raindrops. It was all comfortable... the rain was deliciously warm, the distant crackle of thunder was exciting, and the grass was softer than our bed. Knowing that no one could disturb us took any last stress out of the situation.

Four years into our marriage we finally got what we both had been wishing and praying for. God had finally granted Gilbert and I the gift of a child.

It was a cool day but I felt quite hot. That day we were being visited by wine merchants. Since they came very infrequently to the castle and since there were few pleasures on the grounds (except those that came naturally), all work was suspended while the merchants were on the premises.

Gilbert said that I looked pale and ill that day. He wanted me to rest but I would not... because our wine stock was running low. I was getting annoyed that he was hovering over me when I suddenly felt dizzy. He caught me before I fell.

I can still remember the panic stricken look on Gilbert's face before I passed out. I awoke to see him kneeling beside our bed. His head was down and he was pleading for God to spare my life. Trying my hardest to smile, I said weakly, "You will not get rid of me that easily, Monsieur de la Mare..."

His eyes flashed with equal parts anger and concern. Gilbert kissed me and demanded, "Why do you never listen, woman? I told you that you were unwell... that you should be resting instead of haggling with the wine merchants... I should have tied you to the bed... except that I know how much you dislike that!"

I remarked, "I wager that they cheated you without me to stop it!" Gilbert's eyes flashed with anger. "I have bought no wine from the merchants... excuse me for being far more concerned that my wife might die!"

I laid his hand on my stomach. "I was not sure before but all the woman in our family have bouts of fainting when they are with child..."

My husband's mouth dropped open. I could not resist joking, "The child is yours... in case you are wondering..." He pressed his lips to my belly.

His voice shook as he said, "I had given up hoping..." Then my darling did what he rarely did: he began to cry while mumbling, "Thank you, Jesus..."

My husband was quite sincere in his thanks for my pregnancy... and he went out of his way to show it. It was rather amusing... at first.

If the child would kick, Gilbert would remark that it was practicing to become a fearless soldier. If the child would turn, he would ask it to rest quietly because it was disturbing its mother. Then he would promise the child future gifts if it would not move again during the night. If the child was quiet, he also would thank it for letting their mother (and he) rest peacefully.

Each morning, Gilbert measured my expanding belly and would record the daily measurements in a journal. He would press his ear to it (swearing that he heard our child talking even in the womb). He would carry on amusing conversations with it. He would say things like, "You are going to have the best mother. She is so kind and sweet and loving. We cannot wait for you to be born!"

My husband carried me up and down the stairs... because he was afraid I would slip and fall. He personally inspected my daily attire... to make sure it was not too tight on my body. If he did not think I was eating enough, he would feed me - from his own hand - all sorts of tasty treats to get me to put on weight.

He then set servants on me... ready at a moment's notice to give me food and drink... and even readier to report any misdeeds on my part. Misdeeds included such things as lifting or carrying anything, being on my feet for more than a few minutes at time, and, God forbid, daring to ride a horse.

His rules began interfering with my work! So, I confronted Gilbert with it. We were arguing rather heatedly when I again became unsteady on my feet. This was all he needed to see... my "confinement" began then and there.

My husband scooped me up and carried me upstairs. I was expecting him to take me to our bedchamber. Yet he took me to another room. It had been specially fitted to be a birthing room. He laid me down carefully on the bed.

I had talked about preparing one but had not yet gotten to that task. I could not help but remark, "This confinement room you can build... but not my library!"

Gilbert laughed as he sat down beside me. "This is but one room and it was easily converted for this purpose. An entire library of the kind you want is a major project." He laid his hand on my belly. "We have here a major project that must come first. You shall have your library at some point I promise."

I laid my hand over his. "And how shall you manage while I am here being close confined? Have you considered that at all, Monsieur de la Mare?"

Gilbert laughed. "We shall manage poorly. All will fall into disarray without your guiding hand. Yet, my dearest Sauran, we shall manage... somehow. You will stay here of your own free will... and you will tend to our child."

A wry smile crossed his face as he added, "I am not above putting guards on the door to keep you here." I could not help but laugh along with him.

At first, I resisted being restricted to my bed. Then I started becoming very uncomfortable. I had seen enough of birthing to know that something was wrong with me. Yet I dared not tell my dear husband that until I was sure.

Here is where our isolation really hurt. I was the only experienced midwife on the castle grounds. I had delivered all of the Norman children, both in the castle and in the settlement that was around it. Yet there was no one to help me.

I tried to put on a brave face on it but I could not fool Gilbert for long. When I started sleeping most of the day away, my husband became alarmed.

I awoke one day to find that my mother was busy bustling around the birthing room that Gilbert had confined me to. She was re-organizing our careful and well considered arrangements. So, I said, "Mother, what are you doing?"

She laughed, "That Norman told me you were dying. He even got down on his knees and begged me to come to the castle! So - if he was asking for my help with your birthing time - I reckoned you must be in terrible trouble..."

My mother's voice turned serious as she sat down on the bed beside me. "In truth, your husband told me that everyone said I was the best mid-wife in town. He said, 'I will pay you or give you anything... if only you will come and help her... I beg of you... please...' In truth, it was quite... touching."

My mother took my hand and said, "Sauran, please tell me what you have kept hidden from your own husband. You must know what is happening to you."

I took a deep breath and said, "I think I am carrying twins..." My mother took my hand and kissed it. There was nothing more to be said. We both knew that I would be in for a difficult birth... which I might not survive.

So, we waited until we were both sure that I was carrying twins before I told Gilbert. He and I were alone in the birthing room when I broke this news.

He took my hands and said, "I do not understand how two are even possible. I have never heard of such a thing among the Normans."

I sighed, "It is not common among the Saxons either but it does happen from time to time. I helped my mother with such a delivery once..."

He raised up my hands and kissed them. "What happened with that?" I had to be honest with him. "The children survived, the mother did not."

Gilbert wrapped his arms around me. "Oh Sauran, I cannot lose you. What is best to be done?" All I could say is, "We must trust in God."

I had been carrying twins... but I was too weak to give birth naturally. So my mother cut them out of me... and nursed me day and night until I recovered.

I was drifting in and out of consciousness after having given birth, to see that Gilbert was kneeling by our bed. He was holding my hand, and praying hard in French for God to spare my life. There was such despair and desperation in my poor husband's voice that I thought it best to do something to cheer him up.

I said weakly, "You are not getting rid of me that easily..." I hoped that using the same words as I had when we first discovered I was with child would somehow put him at ease. Gilbert pressed his lips to mine and kissed me gently.

My mother, who had fallen asleep in a chair, sprang to her feet... but I motioned for her to leave us alone in the birthing room. I knew she understood.

My husband thanked me for sending her away. "Close your eyes that I may wipe the sweat from your brow," Gilbert said. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the cool feel of the wet linen on my head. I opened my eyes and it was then I noticed, "You look like you have not slept in a week, my dearest..."

He nodded and then lay down on the bed beside me (over the sheets). His voice shook. "I fear to sleep... that if I do, you shall be gone when I awaken..."

I pulled his head onto my breasts (which I knew he loved). I was touched by what Gilbert had said... and I wished to return the favor.

"I do not think it is fear. I think it is that you miss talking to me before you sleep. So my dearest let my voice lull you to sleep. I will be here when you awaken."

Gilbert's voice shook. "I almost lost you, Sauran. I have never been more fearful in my whole life... not even when charging the enemy. Had I been given the free choice, I would have sooner risked my life in battle than risk your life in the childbed. Please, please do not ask me to sleep now..."

I stroked his hair and asked, "Then what would please you, my darling?" "Just hold me like this, my dearest wife. Let me feel you close to me. I need to feel that you are yet in life... and that we may have many more years together."

So, I did as I was bid. Although Gilbert struggled against it, he finally fell asleep. I held him close: we were still intertwined when I joined him in slumber.

We had fine strong children... a boy and a girl. The boy was very Saxon in appearance (like me) while the girl was very Norman looking (like Gilbert). They were both wonderful souls who we were blessed to have in our family.

We named them according to their looks. Our son was named Andrew Edward (Saxon names after each of my fathers). Our daughter was named Angelique Margot (Norman names after Gilbert's twin sisters who had died at birth).

We were lucky that both children lived because - my mother and I agreed - that my body was too damaged by this birth trauma for me to have any more. Having seen this happen to many women, I was able to accept this more readily than Gilbert. He was heartbroken and would not look at our twins (at first).

My normally talkative Gilbert had said very little since the day of their birth. So, when we were alone in the privacy of our bedchamber, I pulled him closer.

"Oh, my dearest husband. You must begin to hold our children in your arms..." I was beginning to fear that he would not become a good father to them.

His voice shook as he said, "I can barely stand to look at them. All I can see is your face... so pale, so cold, so still. You had stopped breathing for a while. Your mother had me shake you hard, hoping it would bring you back to life..."

I added, "And you did bring me back to life. I am here with you, am I not?"

Gilbert wrapped his arms around me tightly. "In a way, I am glad we cannot have more. I had never seen the childbed before... I did not realize how close I could come to losing you. I would sooner be beaten than see that again."

I said gently, "Then perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that I cannot have any more children. The lesson here is to love and cherish the children we do have... Gilbert tomorrow I insist that you come to the nursery and hold them. You must not blame them for coming into this world. You must be a father to them."

He sighed, "As you wish... if only you will agree to rest more quietly than you have done. We can still manage the castle for a while without you."

I kissed Gilbert's cheek, "Very well. You will see that the joy of having children will soon erase all memory of the pain of their birth..."

Quite bitterly, he replied, "For once, you are quite wrong. I will never forget... the panic I felt during your childbed for as long as I live. I will never forgive... your mother for having cut open your precious, beautiful body..."

Having seen many births, I knew my mother had done what was necessary but he did not. He said some things in anger that he should not have said. In the end, my husband's unkind words drove my poor mother from the castle.

By then, she and I had reconciled. I had agreed that my mother would become part of our children's lives... whether Gilbert liked it or not.

One night as my husband lay on my chest, he began fingering the long scar across my stomach. I kissed his head and said, "We are so lucky - you and I. We have been blessed with so much, my dearest Gilbert..."

He asked bitterly, "Does it hurt when I touch you here?" I sighed. "I can feel you touching it... but there is no pain..." I could feel a tear escape his eye.

I continued, "Instead of worrying about what can never be again, we should be grateful for what we do have... For we do have much to be thankful for."

"Both our children are thriving. We have been abundantly blessed with a rich harvest of every good thing from the Earth. There is great happiness in the castle now that more of the community are marrying and having children of their own. Each year the castle is improved for the benefit of everyone."

"Most of all we should be grateful for the love that we share... a love so rare, so beautiful, so unlike what others around us possess..."

"My mother never liked her husband. Your mother speaks so often that it is a wonder your father ever knew how to talk. From what I hear from the servant's gossip, my sister and her husband constantly argue with one another."

"Worse, my brother has taken to drowning his loneliness in a bottle. While your elder brother cannot get another wife because he drinks too much as well..."

My husband's voice shook. "I wanted another daughter... one that would look like you... one that would show me how you were as you grew. Please do not mistake me... I love both our children dearly... but what if something happens to them or to you... Knowing we can never have more is a dagger in my heart..."

I ran my fingers through Gilbert's thick, black hair. "You never know, my dear... maybe something will not happen to me or the children... maybe it will happen to you!" My husband raised his head up and the glare of his anger was deepened by the reflection of the flames flickering in the fireplace. I smiled and said, "My dearest Gilbert, I was just joking with you..."

He shook his head and lay back down on my chest. I knew that all was forgiven because he started absent mindedly caressing my breasts. I enjoyed the warm glow as I continued, "I forgot to tell you... My mother thanked me for all the gifts and money I have been sending her and the family for all these past years."

I felt Gilbert's body tensing up. I continued, "Of course, I knew at once, you had done this. You were wise to send them in my name... my mother never would have taken gifts from a Norman no matter how much she was in need of them."

"So, tell me, my dearest, why did you show my family such kindnesses?" He mumbled, "I thought it good strategy to keep their door open to you..."

I laughed. "We have been married too many years for you to get away with such a lie! Well, I shall supply the truth on your behalf. You were happy... you were in love... your heart was overflowing... and you wanted to share your good fortune with my family." Gilbert corrected me, "Our family!"

I continued, "Perhaps there was also some guilt... that you had arranged for me to learn of my sister's marriage to my former fiancé... in a way that would cause me to turn away from them... and toward you..."

Gilbert sighed. "I can only wonder why you bother to ask questions when you already know the answers to them." He resumed fingering the scar on my stomach. "I cannot bear it that your mother intentionally cut your body..."

I continued, "If positions were reversed... if it was I who had to make the choice and she who had been with child... I would have made the same choice as she did. You are looking at this the wrong way around. Instead of cursing my mother for opening my belly, you should be blessing her for saving my life. I would have died had she not intervened. That is the God's honest truth..."

I could feel his body tremble with the force of his emotions. His voice shook as he said, "I could not live a single day without your love, Sauran. I cannot bear to contemplate my life without you. I beg of you not to speak of it more..."

For only the second time in our marriage, tears flowed from his eyes. His whole body shook as he wept with more force than when Stephane had died.

I knew that it was best for me not to speak further but to just caress Gilbert with my fingertips. If positions had been reversed, and he was the one dying, my tears would have been as deep and as long as his were.

The next day he loaded up a cart with all manner of food and supplies and we drove out to my family's farm. Although my sister and her husband refused to see us, my mother and my brother thanked Gilbert profusely.

My mother, who also rarely wept, cried for a while in my arms. She asked me why I had done this. I thought for a moment before I answered.

"I am happy, mother, each and every day with my husband. Each day he shows me more love and kindness. Each day the dream of our lives becomes better. I am so full of love that it overflows and makes me want to share it!"

Our twins grew up quickly. Three years had gone by in the blink of an eye. Even with the aid of servants, raising two babies at the same time was quite difficult. I was blessed because Gilbert had proved to be an equal partner in raising our children. He allowed my mother visit them three times a week.

Except for the fact that other projects kept my library from being completed, our lives were happy. Gilbert had built a separate building dedicated to the healing of the sick. This had helped to contain the spread of disease. It also helped those who were seriously ill or wounded to get the best help we could give.

Spring had come again to the castle. I was enjoying watching my daughter, Angelique, ride on the back of her father who pretended to be her horse. She raised her wooden sword to fend off her brother, Andrew, who pretended to attack her. Whenever she was getting into the slightest trouble, my husband would rear up and make it hard for my son to get at her.

I was playing the role of my son's reserve troops... if Andrew got into trouble (rarely if ever) I would come to his aid. I could not have been happier to see everyone I loved... having such a wonderful time playing together.

I was so proud of what a wonderful father Gilbert had become. He had gone from not wanting to hold them at first to being very affectionate. When they were very little, he liked to get down on his knees and open his arms so that the children could race into them. He loved to pick them up and hug them.

I was so absorbed by my own pleasant thoughts that I did not notice the servant sit down beside me until he spoke. This boy was Saxon. His parents had died during the bout of the plague that had almost cost Gilbert his life. So, we took him into the castle. He proved to be amiable and hard working.

He became very loyal to me since I was the only Saxon in the castle. He also conducted the trade that had started to reopen between the castle and the town.

He began quietly, "My lady, I would tell you something of great importance for your ears only. Please do not betray me by seeming upset..."

I trusted this boy and so I said, "I shall wear a smile on my face as you speak..." He told me that he had seen my sister in town. My mother was seriously ill with the pox... and was 'like to die' of it. She had asked him if I could come to the family farm before word spread... and the town and the castle were shut down.

I nodded and said to him, "Get my horse ready. Tell no one. I shall leave directly." The poor boy said nervously, "I do not wish to remain in the castle, Lady Sauran, after my Lord finds out that you have gone..."

I said, "You are to come with me... and then turn back to only order the castle shut down. Once the black flags are flying from the towers, come to my family's farm... I shall see you are reinstated with my Lord when the danger is past. You shall not suffer for your loyalty to me, I promise!" So, he rose and left me.

The boy then made the mistake of running from me. This immediately aroused Gilbert's suspicions. My husband stopped his game with the children to ask me what was wrong. It was tearing at my heart to have to lie to him.

I rose and said, "There is a castle matter that I must attend to... I beg leave of my master (my son) to let his troops (me) withdraw from the field."

Andrew, with a great flourish, said, "Permission granted!" My darling persisted, "I shall help you, my dear." I shook my head. "Not when the battle is joined. No, my love, I wish you and our precious children to play for a while longer..."

I wished that a portrait painter had been on hand. The three of them were such a happy sight that I would have preserved forever if I had the means. It took all my courage to turn away from them... as they resumed their game.

As I left my lovely family, I wondered how they would fare during this new bout of the pox. I prayed that the pox would somehow leave the castle alone.

Of course, the castle was locked down before my husband knew it. Knowing me all too well, my husband was certain that I would not leave without an explanation. I know he went at once to our bedchamber to find my letter.

"My dearest, darling husband, I have gone to tend my mother who lies dying of the pox. Since she saved my life, I must go now and try to save hers. Quite simply, we owe her our present happiness with our dear children."

"Please, my darling, forgive me for having left you like this... without a 'Goodbye' or a kiss farewell... but I know that you cannot understand why I must go myself. This is why I could not ask you... it is why I chose to leave on my own."

"Even now I can hear you thinking... 'I could have arranged for a physician to attend her' or 'I could have sent her some of my home remedy'. You are right about this... but you are also wrong... If she could not save herself... then I know that she must be close to death. I can feel this in my heart."

"I must use all my skill and knowledge to save her... just as she did for me... Know that it has broken my heart to leave behind all those I care for most in this world: your dearest self and the children of our love for one another..."

"Please understand that I love you above all things... Please do not follow me but stay at the castle and keep our dear children safe... Please, for the sake of your wife who loves you with her whole heart, respect my wishes."

"Know there will not be a moment we are apart that I will not think of you, long for you, and wish to feel your arms about me... Gilbert, you have all my love, now and forever world without end... Your loving and devoted wife, Sauran."

Luckily for me, my daughter got upset at my departure and begged her father not to leave them and follow me. My brave son had offered to go after me but my husband insisted he stay behind to help him run the castle until I returned.

So, Gilbert remained safe in our home... which was not affected by this wave of the plague. Meanwhile, I did all in my power to try and save my mother's life... and miraculously, she finally pulled through and recovered from the pox.

Three weeks later, I returned to the castle. I was tired but I was more heartsick at missing my husband and my children... so I forced myself to ride home. I had left my loyal Saxon servant behind to tend to my family... and to give me time to prepare for what was certain to be my husband's righteous anger.

I was so exhausted upon my return that my husband only allowed me to briefly kiss our children before he swept me up into his arms and took me to our bedchamber. Gilbert did not speak a single word to me on the way there... but I could feel the anger welling up and flowing through his body.

He laid me on the bed and ordered, "Get some sleep!" I replied, "How can I sleep when we are in such great disharmony? If we do not speak about this now, I shall lie here tossing and turning about wondering if you still love me... wondering if you shall ever trust me again... wondering what you are thinking..."

Anger flashed in Gilbert's eyes and echoed in his voice. "You wonder what I am thinking? You desert me! You desert our children! And yet you are wondering what I am thinking? Woman, you are impossible sometimes!"

As he often did to control his anger, Gilbert hit the palm of his hand against the stone wall. Then he started quickly pacing back and forth across our bedchamber. Yet, his eyes burned more brightly than the fire in the hearth.

I was shocked. "Desert you? Desert our children? I did nothing of the kind! I closed the castle to protect all of you! It worked, didn't it? There was no outbreak of the plague here... that is what they said in town..." I had been checking in on the castle and there had been no reports of any illness there.

Bitterness twisted Gilbert's voice. "If the town said so, then it must be true." He hit his palm against the wall again. So, I said, "The town fears plague from the castle just as the castle fears plague from the town. The watchers from the town swore that no one had brought out any dead from the castle..."

Indeed, before Gilbert had arrived, several servants had already confirmed that the pox had not come into the castle. So, I knew I had done the right thing.

Gilbert pounded his palms into the wall several more times before he said, "Just when I think that all is well between us... just when I believe that you truly love and trust me... just when I am sure that you have forgiven me for all I have ever done wrong in the past... it becomes Saxon against Norman all over again."

"Your Saxon servant goes behind my back to tell you in confidence what I cannot be trusted to know. Of course, Saxon loyalty is everything to you... so you go running off... to your real family and your real home... without telling me!"

I sighed, "This is my real home and you are my real family. I might point out that if my mother had not come and saved my life whilst I was in the childbed... we would not have had these last wonderful years together. Blame this on Saxon versus Norman if you like, but that is not the truth of this matter..."

He exploded. "And what is the truth? That you cannot treat me with enough courtesy and respect to consult me about what you were going to do?"

"Sauran, you would never do such a thing when it comes to managing the castle... like buying supplies or working the fields or improving the grounds! And yet when your very life is at stake, you just take it upon yourself to decide what it is you will do... and then you treat me as if I do not exist at all!"

Now it was my turn. "Gilbert, it is you who treat me as if I do not exist at all! If I had asked you, I am certain that you would have said 'No' and that you would have locked me in the castle to make sure that I obeyed you!"

"You are quite happy to share those decisions you feel to be unimportant... like buying supplies or working the fields or improving the grounds. Yet when it comes to something important you close your ears and impose your will!"

Tears edged Gilbert's eyes and his voice as he said, "Forgive me if I love my wife so much that I would do anything to keep her safe... including locking her into her room to save her life! By God, Sauran, why can you not act as other women do and just allow me to be a man and protect you?"

"Why must you always think of others before yourself and put your life and your health at stake? Why must you take such terrible risks that rob me of good sleep at night?" I put out my arms to him and he buried his face in my chest.

"Gilbert, you are the most generous... the most kind... the most considerate man in the world. Oh, my dearest, I know you would have done whatever you could to help my poor mother. I am sure you would have paid for a doctor to attend her. I am sure you would have bought her any medicines that she required. Yet money cannot solve all problems... my mother needed my help..."

My husband pulled away from me and went over to the window. "I need your help... your children need your help..." I sighed again. "And was there any pox in the castle?" He did not move. "No, but there could have been..."

Now Gilbert got to the heart of the matter. "Why can I not be the most important person to you in the world? Have I not done all in my power to be a good husband to you? Can you never forgive me for taking you for myself?"

I rose and ran to Gilbert. I curled myself into his back and put my arms around his front. "You are the most excellent husband a wife could ever have."

"If you had sent word from the castle that you or one of the children was ill, I would have left my mother and come to you. You ARE the most important person in the world to me, Gilbert. She just needed me more at the time..."

"And as for forgiveness, there is nothing to forgive. All you did was rescue me from what would have been a dull and loveless marriage. Please, my dearest, may we not be more forgiving and kinder to one another?"

Gilbert turned around and took me into his arms. "You must never take a decision again without telling me first. I need your promise before God..." I smiled, "So I must consult you first but you must not consult me first?"

He lifted me up. "I did not say that. Let us make a pact... and sign it with a kiss..." We kissed each other then he laid me down in bed and sat beside me.

"Our pact shall be that each must consult the other first before taking a decision on matters large or small. I swear before our Lord that I cannot sleep at night unless I am certain that we can act as one. Sauran, I cannot bear to have you run off on me again. Are we agreed?" I kissed him and said "Yes."

A seductive smile spread across Gilbert's face. I pressed my fingers to his lips and said, "There must be an addition to our pact to make it work." He rolled his eyes, asked, "And what might that be?" I caressed his cheek.

"That we shall decide together... and that you shall not have the option of imposing your will upon me... with your manly strength or by any means other than words and argument... Can you promise me that, Gilbert?"

Gilbert pursed his lips. "That is not fair: you are much better at words and argument than I am..." I pursed my lips. "I have not your physical strength!"

He nodded and smiled. "I suppose accepting such unfair terms is better than having to worry about whatever it is that you will do next without telling me... Ah well, I suppose that we have a bargain... Although, as usual, Sauran, you have drawn a hard bargain to your personal advantage!"

I kissed him and said, "Not so. I believe that we are both the winners here... and that our bargain will reap rich rewards in future love, peace, and harmony..."

A few days later, the stress of saving my mother from the pox caught up with me and I fell ill. My darling - true to his promise - did not use force to get me to stay in bed... I agreed... even though I felt guilty for just resting.

Gilbert was a man of action and he always felt better if he could be doing something. I was not surprised when he asked me what he could do for me.

I had already ordered my own brand of herbal remedies to be prepared... so I told him there was nothing that he could do for me... except to love me. He protested, "You are too ill..." I laughed until it caused a bout of coughing.

When I stopped coughing, I said, "How like you to think that I meant pleasuring (sex)! I meant just hold love in your heart for me!"

Gilbert cried, "I need to do something!" So, we agreed that he would get into bed beside me... and hold me while we were both naked. He held me from behind and said, "Do you feel me willing my energy and strength into you?"

All I could feel was his hardening manhood but I lied and said, "Yes..." The warmth of his body was wonderful. I enjoyed the feel of him on my back and his arms twining around me. Yet I could also feel the tension in his body.

Without meaning to, I blurted out, "I shall not die! I cannot die... our children are yet not wed!" He started shaking. "I don't know what I would do without you..."

Ever practical, I said, "Of course you would wed another... our children would need a mother..." Gilbert got angry. "Do not speak so, Sauran!"

I persisted. "If you did wed again - for the sake of our children - you would be too much the gentleman not to pleasure their new mother. So, I would have to look down from Heaven upon such an unwelcome scene... No, that will not do! I shall live to pleasure you myself, Gilbert. You will see!"

He grunted. "You are just stubborn enough to do as you have said! Please God let it be so..." My strength was gone and I drifted off to sleep.

When I awoke, I felt much better. I could feel Gilbert still holding me from behind. So, I dared not move for fear of waking him. I enjoyed the delicious warm sensation of this body next to mine. Yet, as he always did, Gilbert soon sensed that I was awake. He turned me around to face him.

"You look so much better, my dearest Sauran. How do you feel?" His face and voice betrayed his worry and concern for me.

I kissed him and said, "I believe that the danger from the pox is now passed." I no longer felt feverish or at all discomforted. I was just tired... which was to be expected for a while. As my husband scrutinized my face, I could see the relief flooding into him. I laughed, "You must have healed me by holding me."

Gilbert kissed me and said, "Imagining pouring my life force into your body was far better than imagining that you would die. On that subject..."

My husband took a deep breath and declared, "You must promise me to never again speak of your death - not even in jest - as you did yesterday. I cannot bear the thought. It felt like all the air at once was taken out of my body."

His voice shook when he continued, "When I said, 'I don't know what I would do without you' I meant it. The truth is that I don't want to know what it would be like to live without you. I know that I would surely die... I would want to..."

I put my finger to his lips, and replied, "As you wish, I shall not speak of it again. I want you to know that I pray daily for us to live a long and happy life together."

Gilbert smiled, "Since you pray daily, then surely God will answer not only your prayer but mine. The only thing I pray for is not to live a single day without you."

I was still recovering and I had fallen into a deep sleep. It took quite a while for my sister to shake me awake. My Saxon servant who was "friends" with her had escorted her all the way from the castle gates directly into my bedchamber.

We had not spoken since she had married my fiancé... except for me giving her instructions as to what I needed her to do to help save our mother's life.

My sister was frantic... she was with child. Her husband and she had not slept together in over a year... so he quite rightly concluded that the babe was not his own. Worse, poor Robert had threatened to spread that truth all over town.

Since her husband had "always listened" to me, she wanted me to "reason" with him. She argued that such gossip would only serve to hurt an innocent child. Her husband had been on a drunken binge and now was passed out at home.

My sister wanted me to come back with her to the farm right away... before he could return to town... and start "slandering" her unborn child.

It was then my husband entered our bedchamber. He was furious. "Why do I have to set servants on my own wife to see that she gets the rest she needs?"

My sister blurted out, "Sauran did not call for me... I came on my own... Please forgive me, my Lord, I most desperately need my sister's help..." I reached out my hand to him and asked, "What would you have me do, husband?"

Gilbert took my hand and kissed it. Without even once looking at my sister, he commanded. "I must speak with my wife... alone. Please leave us."

He sat down beside me and said, "Forgive me. I should have trusted you to keep our pact. My dear, I beg of you not to rise from this bed. You always do too much for others. I beg of you, for once, please take the rest you need..."

To be honest, it was very easy to for me agree with him... my sister had made her bed and she could lie in it. Yet it had made Gilbert so happy to believe that he had persuaded me not to go... that I let him believe in his victory!

My husband's happiness was short lived. Whether my sister had brought it or I had, another cycle of plague swept through the castle. This time only a few fell ill, including our precious children who had not yet suffered from the pox.

I was consumed with worry for our twins... they had contracted the pox sooner than most young Saxon children did. My mother came to the castle, despite having recently recovered from the pox herself, because she wanted to help.

Even though my mother tended to our twins expertly, I refused to leave their side. So, in an act of desperation, my mother called upon my husband to take me to bed. By then, I was too tired to resist him other than by argument.

As Gilbert picked me up and carried me away, I cried. "If you need me, please mother, come and get me at any hour..." I heard her promise to do that before we had moved too far away. I was furious with Gilbert and I told him so.

My husband laid me on the bed and got on top of me. "You will rest, my love! I am prepared to lie on top of you - if I need to - while you sleep!" I continued to object when he said, "I cannot bear to lose you. I will not risk you falling ill again. I could not bear for you to become delirious and..."

Gilbert was trembling and the words stuck in his throat. I reached up and caressed his cheek. "What is it, my dearest?"

My big, strong husband could barely reply, "I could not bear hearing you say such... hurtful things to me... again. I know it was the plague talking... not this time... but the first time you fell ill in front of me..."

I threw my arms around his neck. I profusely apologized for what I had said all those years ago when plague had first struck him at the castle.

By the sweetness of his kisses, I could feel the relief pouring through Gilbert's body. For every unkind word I had said to him back then, I said a loving word now. I kept saying "I love you" over and again until I finally drifted into sleep.

The plague had done its worst. Both our children had survived it. Not only that: each of them were growing stronger and healthier every day. Our twins, Andrew and Angelique, rarely fought one another and never spoke unkind words to each other (as my brother and sister had often done).

Not only that, our children became the best of friends and spent most of their time merrily in each other's company. Most of all, they were kind to their parents as well as to their grand-mother. At times, my mother and I could hardly believe our luck in having twins who were so very loving and kind.

Over the next few years, there were no further outbreaks of the pox. Indeed, relations between the town and the castle had improved to the point that both Norman and Saxon could freely travel back and forth between them without incident. I hoped that the Saxon and Norman hostilities were finally dying down.

Our Saxon servant, who had been the "go-between" the town and the castle, had even been given another job. Yes, Gilbert had finally forgiven this young man for warning me about the last bout of plague (without having told him first).

He became the construction manager for all our building projects. He helped us to expand not only the castle but the community surrounding it. He had even drawn up plans for the library that Gilbert had been promising to build for me!

This time I was starting to believe that I would get that library as Gilbert was becoming quite impatient with the piles of my books that were everywhere. Since there were now no longer any other projects in the way, I was certain that my dream of building a large library would finally come true... this very year.

Now that we had children, Gilbert was beginning to think that a library in the castle would be good for their education. So, all in all, I was quite content with our life together. I prayed daily that life would continue in this happy way.

One day, Gilbert and I decided to walk to town and go on a shopping trip. Surprisingly, for once, our children did not wish to come with us. As they were old enough, we left them at the castle while we enjoyed the fine weather.

We had gone into one store where my husband got to talking with some of the Saxon business men. It was too crowded in there for me... so I went outside.

Before I knew it, my brother-in-law was standing right in front of me. He was the man I would have married but for my husband's kidnapping me. We exchanged greetings and then he got right to the point (which was unusual for him).

"I may never have an opportunity of speaking with you - alone like this - so I must ask... Do you ever think about what it would have been like if we had married?" His voice trailed off: I was now the "great lady" of the castle and this had made him nervous. Gone was the familiarity we had once shared.

I shook my head. "I have never thought about... that... to be honest... I do know somewhat of your situation from mother... and I am sorry that you and my sister do not share the same blissful happiness that I and my husband do."

I smiled and said, "From my heart, I sincerely wish that you could know such joy with your wife as I have found with my dearest husband."

He nodded and replied, "So you never regret... what happened?" I sighed. "I only regret that I was so slow to recognize my true happiness. I am sorry that I spent so much time resisting the only man that I could ever truly love."

Indeed, I thought that I wished I could get back the time I had most foolishly wasted in rejecting Gilbert. What I said to Robert was, "I have no need to look back on the past with regret because my husband has made my life now so beautiful... we are so happy, more and more so each and every day..."

I did not know it but Gilbert had heard every word I said. He slipped his arms around me as my brother-in-law walked away. He whispered, "You have never said anything which touched me more!" I turned and rewarded him with a kiss.

A new wave of Normans had arrived at the castle. While Gilbert was busily greeting them, I decided to take a walk alone - since it was such a fine day. Although I loved my husband dearly, since my childbirth, he was reluctant to let me go anywhere on my own. So, I seized upon this very rare opportunity.

I was halfway between the castle and the town. I was about to turn back when I heard a little girl screaming for help. I ran toward the sound and found that a wolf had sunk its teeth into her leg. Fortunately, my grand-father had taught me how to get wolves to drop their prey. It took me some time but it worked.

By the time the wolf had let the child go, she was unconscious. It was clear to me that she had lost a lot of blood. I ripped up my under-gown and bound the girl's wounds as best I could. I had to be sure that her damaged leg was bound securely enough so that I could carry her back to town.

Day was turning into night. I could practically feel my husband's panic rising... but I had no choice... the girl's life had to be my first concern. As soon as I got closer to town, I ran into the party who was searching for the missing child.

Her father - a big, strapping man - found me first and took the child from me. Before he could speak, I told him that she needed stitches. So, he took me to their home and I performed that surgery. Sadly, there was no one about who was willing to go to the castle and send word to my husband.

A pack of wolves were plaguing the town. The little girl had not been their only victim. My mother was already hard at work on others who suffered from wolf bites. Since there were so many in need, I could not turn away from them.

As the hours passed, I just prayed that Gilbert did not send a search party into the night to look for me. I just hoped that my husband had stayed in the castle.

Dawn was just breaking by the time the little girl's father walked me back to the castle. I was bracing myself for a tongue lashing from my husband. What I got was shocked, silent stares from those opening the gates.

One of the servants shouted, "Send for the master!" I went over to that boy and before I could say a word, he said, "We all thought you dead, lady. We found your handkerchief stained with blood in the fields. We know that wolves hide the bodies they take... The master's been heart-broken... all night now..."

I must have dropped that handkerchief while attending to the girl. Now I was panicking. My voice shook as I asked, "Is he all right? Was he hurt?"

I got my answer when my husband strode up to me and embraced me passionately. His lips pressed on mine cutting off my anxious words. I could feel relief flooding through his body as we kissed and hugged.

Gilbert's desire overwhelmed me and I just melted into him as he gave me kiss after passionate kiss. Then he reached down, hooked his arm under my knees, and lifted me up. As his lips left mine, I said, "I am so sorry, my dearest..."

Then I asked the servants to see to the girl's father as Gilbert carried me away. I explained to my poor husband what had happened as he took me to our bedchamber. Gilbert listened and his silence was unnerving me.

He laid me on the bed and then he got in beside me. Again, my husband wrapped his arms around me tightly... and let his lips do the talking. Not knowing what was on his mind was driving me crazy even as we made love.

After our loving, Gilbert broke the silence and said, "I am glad you were there to help that little girl. Yet you are so precious to me... You must promise me to never wander off alone again. If you do not wish for me to accompany you..."

I placed my fingers over his lips. "Of course, I want you to be with me. Before you came into my life, I was used to talking solitary walks. Since the children were with their tutor and you were with the new arrivals, I thought I would get some fresh air. I was on the point of returning when I found that little girl..."

Gilbert stopped me and put his hand on my heart. "Promise me, on your love for me, that you shall never again go out alone. If I cannot come, then you must go with a trusted Norman servant. Please, Sauran, you must agree."

I agreed - rather reluctantly - to allow someone to come with me whenever I left the castle. Most often, that was Gilbert. It was a small price to pay for his peace of mind. It was also a duty I owed to our precious children.

Of course, Gilbert and I did not agree on everything. As our marriage went on, my husband became increasingly impatient with the number of books that I bought. In his view, the only books a person really needed was the Bible, the "Farmer's Almanac", and ledgers for accounting. He thought it was a waste of time and money for me to get and read anything else (and he often said so).

Gilbert especially did not like me reading in our bed. In his view, the bed had only two purposes: sleeping and lovemaking. He was really losing patience over my nightly book reading... until I came up with an ingenious solution.

One night I was reading as he got into bed. Before Gilbert could say a word or take the book from my hand, I grabbed his manhood. I then gave him an "Erotic Massage" (as outlined in books I had recently acquired). This caused Gilbert to release his seed three times in very rapid succession. Of course, it made a mess of the sheets but he loved the intensity of the bliss this massage created.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Gilbert asked, his voice laden with equal parts of sexual satisfaction and deep suspicion. I slyly answered, "I thought you should get some return on the investment we are making in my books..."

Impatiently, my husband ripped the book from my other hand and said, "This book is about religion!" I took it back. "This is not the book it came from!"

Gilbert was so aroused that he pulled me under him and said, "You will show me that sex book!" I was amazed that he was erect for the fourth time.

I dropped the book and replied, "What I did was combine techniques from three other books..." Then my husband covered my mouth with his and proceeded to pleasure me with the most intense passion... until he exploded inside me.

As we lay together in contented silence, he suggested, "Perhaps you can read to me from those books!" I asked, "Can I read my books in bed without you complaining or resenting them?" He laughed as I picked my book off the floor.

So, we agreed that I could read books in bed... as long as I made sure that he was pleasured along the way. In fact, Gilbert ended up allocating more money to my book fund. Finally, he agreed to my plans for an even larger library.

Each year when the King's representatives came to collect his share of the castle's profit, my stomach became filled with knots. I was worried that they would insist on more... and that we would not have more to give. Fortunately, the King's Men came after the harvest each year so that we were prepared.

As the years went by, the chance that the King's men would recognize me as being "Lady Felicity, the owner of Horsham Castle" lessened. King William had finally died in September 1087. This was the first year the King’s Men came to collect on behalf of the new King, William (Rufus) II.

Whenever we were visited, I would retreat to an upper room where I could get a good look at the courtyard below. After the children were born, they were confined to their schoolroom and servants were on hand to see that they stayed there. So, it was left to Gilbert to greet the King's Men on his own.

Most years they would come, choose what they wanted for profits (like money or grain or livestock), and leave after a few hours. This year was different.

This year I saw Gilbert draw his hand across his forehead. That was our sign that something had gone wrong. That year there had been rumors that the English King was going to wage war on France. As a Norman, my husband was as French as the King's enemy... and this put him in danger.

Now that the Conqueror had died, I had no idea of what his successor would want of my husband. I was secretly fearful that the new King might have been persuaded to re-arrest Gilbert and sell the castle to his parents.

It seemed like an eternity before Gilbert entered my hiding room. I flew to his side and he wrapped his arms around me. We shared a long kiss before he pulled back and said, "Thank God, we made love last night..."

Before I could say anything, Gilbert explained that he was to leave with the King's men along with ten of our Norman community. They were going off to war. They all would be leaving in less than a quarter of an hour.

My husband took my face into his hands. "I will come back to you. It may be months - or God forbid - years before that happens but I will return home."

"I will not die... for if I did, you would have to wed again - for the sake of our children - you would be too much the lady not to pleasure their new father. So, I would have to look down from Heaven upon such an unwelcome scene... No, that will not do! I shall live to pleasure you myself, Sauran. You will see..."

I had said that very thing to Gilbert when I lay ill from my childbed. I know that he was trying cheer me up. I touched his cheek and said, "I will never wed again. Just come home to me, to us. That is all I ask, my dearest darling."

Gilbert embraced me and we shared a final kiss before he left.

Before I knew it, I was standing on the roof of the castle wall looking at Gilbert and our men disappearing over the horizon with the King's soldiers. I could not stop tears from rolling down my face at the prospect of never seeing him again.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that Gilbert had ridden so confidently through the castle gates. How deeply I had hated him then... and how deeply I loved him now. So many memories of our life together flooded into my mind.

As I lost sight of my husband, I wondered at how my bleak my life would be without him. The only light in my life now was our dear children.

Since I rarely wept, my tears upset my poor daughter, Angelique. Her father had told her to be brave for his sake. Now she could no longer hold back her tears. Since she looked just like her father, she and Gilbert shared a special bond. Angelique relied upon his strength perhaps more than she should have.

At length, my poor little daughter became so weary from her weeping that I put her to bed right away. I sang the French lullaby that Gilbert had so often sung to her whenever she was ill or sad. Fortunately, that put her right to sleep.

My brave little son, Andrew, accompanied me to help with his sister. Once we had left her room, he said, "Father told me I am lord of the castle now and that I am to help you run things..." I knelt down and embraced him. "You are helping me already!" Andrew said, " Father will be back soon, momma."

True to his word, Andrew followed me around the castle as I completed my usual round of duties. We had sent so many able-bodied men to war that it left us short-handed. Andrew helped me as best he could: I was so proud of him.

Supper was a sad affair as those who remained were deeply concerned about those who had departed. I let Andrew sit in his father's place as it made him feel as if he were the new lord of the castle. I was quite proud of how well he led the meal... following the pattern that Gilbert had laid down to the letter.

Finally, I returned to our bedchamber. It was a bit of a mess as Gilbert had thrown opened his war trunk to gather what he needed quickly. I started to put his war trunk back into order. I put one of his shirts over my face to muffle the sounds of my weeping. What if he never returned? It was a terrible thought.

If only Andrew had been right about Gilbert returning soon. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. Fall turned to winter and then to spring.

In all that time, I only had brief word from Gilbert that all was well with he and the new King. Since no one had arrived to lay claim to the castle, I was certain that it had not been sold. At least, our children and I still had a home.

So, the only problem was that my husband and I were parted. I could not show my worry for Gilbert as I did not want to alarm the children. It made my son and daughter feel better to take turns marching on the top of the castle roof. They pretended to be their father's army on the lookout for their commander's return.

Each night I prayed for my dearest Gilbert to come back home. Each evening I was disappointed at spending yet another day without him. I kept hoping for another letter from him. Yet, I knew, there were so many ways for it to get lost.

Then one spring day I watched my children do a guard change: my daughter stood watch in the morning after their lessons, and my son in the afternoon after the mid-day meal. Suddenly, they both screamed with excitement.

They ran down the steps and in English and French cried, "Father!" I ordered the gates to be opened. Gilbert was riding his horse hard toward the castle. He was followed by all ten of his contingent of Norman soldiers.

My husband had barely reigned in his horse and dismounted when our children almost knocked him off his feet to give him hugs and kisses. It took all we could do to get them to allow their father to take me into his arms.

It was a warm, satisfying kiss that was all too short. My darling was quite hungry... so I got him some supper. Gilbert enthralled us all with the tales of his adventures since we had been apart... between bites of his food.

Gilbert explained that he had been drafted into the King's service and sent to France as part of an envoy to the Norman Duke. There he helped to smooth over the differences between the two countries.

As a reward, my husband had been presented with a ceremonial sword and so we asked to see it. After dinner, his servant went to fetch it for him. It was all I could do to keep the children from taking it away from him. They asked him to tell them more stories of his battles and how he had used the sword in them.

At length, the children had finally allowed us to put them to bed. Naturally, having been apart for months, Gilbert and I had started undressing one another even before we reached our bedchamber. Our lovemaking was intense, fiery, and brief. Poor Gilbert was so exhausted that he could not move.

I said, "Allow me to finish your undressing, my love." Gilbert just grunted with deep satisfaction as I removed the last of his clothes. "Now yours," he commanded, as he better positioned himself in bed. So, I did as I was bid.

I climbed into bed and I laid my head on his shoulder. He ran his fingers through my hair. I kissed him and said, "Before you sleep, my love, I..."

Gilbert groaned. We knew each other too well. He asked, "How much have you cost us, Sauran? I am too contented now to become unhappy."

I kissed his chest. "I stayed within the annual building allowance." He kissed the top of my head, "That's my sensible, wife. What did you build?"

I stroked his chest and admitted, "I built the library which you have been promising to build me for years... and which you agreed to before you left! Yes, it is the larger one that you thought could not be built within the budget!"

He laughed. "I suppose that is a safety measure. To keep the children and the servants from tripping over your piles of books!"

As if he read my mind, Gilbert continued, "No, I'm not saying that because I am weary now. I am sure you were glad - for once - to have a free hand in the building of the library. It is just as well that you spared me the trouble..."

Since luck was favoring me I pressed on, "And I turned the nursery into a sick room for my mother. She is there right now." I was deeply touched by his compassionate reply. "I am sorry, Sauran. If your mother has consented to enter our 'den of Normans', then she must be very ill indeed."

I kissed my husband's chest again. "She allows herself - without complaint - to be tended to by Norman servants at every hour..."

I could not keep the tears out of my voice as I continued, "Our children have become even more attached to her. They read her stories each day. They have taken to playing in her room whilst she is awake. This is a great comfort to my poor mother and it has done much to lift her spirits."

Gilbert hugged me and asked, "Is there anything else that I can do for her?" I stroked his arm. "Just allow my mother to stay here until the end of her days." "Of course," was his answer and then I insisted Gilbert get some sleep.

As usual, Gilbert had awakened first. He had gotten out of bed and he was standing in front of the fireplace. I had almost forgotten how well built my beloved husband was. He looked like a Greek god with his naked body bathed in flickering firelight. As if he heard my thoughts, Gilbert turned and faced me.

Being as experienced in love as he was in war, Gilbert knew exactly how to show himself off to great effect in the firelight. I could hear the smile spreading over his face as he asked, "Does your old man's body still please you?"

As he walked back to bed, I replied, "Of course. It does... always. Of course, Gilbert you are not that old. You are still... vigorous…"

As he crawled in bed beside me, Gilbert asked, "How do I compare to the first time you saw me? Be honest, Sauran... as you always are"

I smiled. I remember the first time that he caught me looking at his manly package in this bedchamber... it was the first night we "slept" together.

As hardened as I was by seeing men and women copulating in just about every nook and cranny of the castle, I had yet to witness ejaculation closely until that moment. I had hated Gilbert then... now I loved him with all my heart. "Oh Gilbert," I replied. "You are as magnificent as ever!"

Gilbert smiled, asked me to sit up, and then he draped his legs on my lap. It only took him an instant to become completely erect. He wrapped my fingers around his manhood and he looked deeply into my eyes as he began to use my hand to stroke himself to orgasm (which was quite unusual for him).

The glow of love in his eyes burned brighter than the flames in the fireplace. He stared into my eyes so intently that he was hypnotizing me into pleasuring him. When he climaxed, I could feel - literally- a jolt of sexual energy surge into my heart. I was so enthralled that I did not even mind him fouling the sheets.

Gilbert explained, "I had to clear my mind... because, Sauran, I have a very special gift for you... I did not want my lust to cloud this moment."

My husband reached for a small box on his night stand and he gave it to me. I opened it and it contained the most beautiful ring of gold. He took off my old metal wedding ring and he slid the gold ring into its place.

"At first," he said, "I refused the King's offer of the ceremonial sword. I told the King, that I was grateful for his generosity... but that I wished for a reward of a different kind. I asked him to grant me the gift of this golden ring."

"I told him that I wished for this instead because I had already received the greatest reward life had to offer and that was my lovely wife. I said that it was she who was to be honored... for it was she who made everything possible... So moved was he that the King granted me both ring and sword."

I had no words to express my gratitude to Gilbert... but I showed it instead. I embraced him and kissed him. Once I regained my speech, I said, "I promise you, Gilbert, that I never take this ring from my finger..."

The next day Gilbert had wanted to crush my old wedding ring to bits now that I had a new ring. I refused: I had worked too hard to get that old ring and I was keeping it no matter what. So, I hung it on a chain around my neck at first.

Yet, Gilbert thought that it looked out of place when I was dressed in finer clothes. So, I sewed a pocket into my under-garments where I kept the old ring safe. At times, he would play a game and try to steal that ring from me. Yet, I was too quick and too clever... and he never succeeded in getting it.

This proved to be a quite enjoyable game... and I knew we would play it for the rest of our married lives! Of course, only after the children were asleep.

In the years after Gilbert returned from war, we took great pleasure from watching our children grow. My mother had recovered from her illness. The children begged their father to allow their grandmother to remain in the castle.

I will never forget how that was done. My husband and I were taking our ease under the shade of a tree. My daughter, Angelique, ran up to him and gave him a sweet kiss on his cheek. Then Andrew got between us and took his hand.

"Oh, Papa!" Andrew began. "May not grand-momma stay in the castle with us from now on? She is so good and kind to Angie and I. Please?"

Then Angelique joined in and said, "Please! Please!" Gilbert turned to look at me. So, I joined in and said, " Please! Please!"

I knew that Gilbert could not resist us all. So, he said, "Go and tell your grand-mother she can stay. Why don't you both help her to arrange her room as she would like? She can only stay at the castle if you two will help her with that!"

Our children kissed him and then ran to tell their grand-mother the good news. Gilbert pulled me closer and asked, "Did you put them up to this?"

I answered honestly. "No. Our children genuinely care for my mother. It is good for them to have more than just their parents to look after them..."

I did not have to say that, for her part, my mother could no longer bear to watch her son destroy his health by drinking too much alcohol. Nor could she endure the endless arguments between my sister and her husband.

Even better, my mother found a way to be reconciled with my husband that made her indispensable to him. She quickly took on the new job of keeping away unwanted visitors, like children, at times when we wanted to be lovers.

This came about one morning when Gilbert was vigorously thrusting into me and both our children came into our bedchamber. We had forgotten to lock the door the night before. So, they innocently asked what their father was doing to their mother (we were both moaning with delight by that stage).

Gilbert had the presence of mind to answer, "Pleasuring your mother. Now why don't the two of you go down with your grand-momma and get a special treat from the kitchen?" Of course, I had to assure them that I was not dying first.

As if by magic, their grandmother appeared and whisked them away. From then on, she made sure that we were not disturbed. Since the twins liked getting treats from the cook, there were no further intrusions.

Now that our children were older, Gilbert and I (mainly I) decided that the twins were too close confined in the castle. Since they chose to spend all their time with one another, instead of with even the Norman children, we sent them to the town school. I had hoped that they would forge new friendships there.

That first day, Andrew came home with a black eye and with his arm around his weeping sister's shoulder. It was clear they not found friends at school.

Gilbert saw them before I did. He swept Angelique up into his arms to calm her. I raced forward and knelt down so that I could take a look at Andrew's eye.

The story of the day spilled out of Andrew. "I had no choice but to fight. Poor Angelique was being told..." My son's voice shook before he continued, "...all manner of cruel and hateful things. Some of them threw dirt at her..."

"My poor Angel," Gilbert said, as he patted Angelique's back to calm her down. Now that she was safe inside her father's arms, she became quieter.

Andrew continued. "So, I tackled those who were tormenting her just as father taught me. Then we got into a fist fight... and one of them hit me in the eye."

Our son turned to Gilbert and said, "You would have been proud of me, father. There were six of them and I was just one... but I made them all run away."

I sighed as I thought that was hardly something to be proud of but Gilbert did not. He beamed as he remarked, "I am always proud of you my son."

Andrew then took my hand and said, "Please, mother, do not make us go back to the town school. What if they separate me from Angelique..."

Before I could reply, Gilbert interrupted, "You and your sister are not going back to the town school. I will arrange for better tutors to come to the castle."

Then Gilbert turned to me and said, "We agreed, Sauran, that we would get them new tutors if the town school did not work out. You have only to look at our son's eye to see clearly that all has not gone as you had hoped..."

"Very well," I agreed. I could see the relief written on all of their faces.

I had just finished tending to Andrew's eye in the main healing room when he said, "I am sorry mother. I know how much you do not like fighting..."

I interrupted, "I am sure you were just being a good brother to your sister... and I am proud of you. I should be apologizing to you. I should have known that the differences between town and castle were still so great that..."

Uncharacteristically, Andrew interrupted me. "You mean between Saxons and Normans. Mother, we need our own school for the Normans here in the castle. It was not just Angelique and I who suffered. The Saxon children are quite cruel to the Norman children... who bear it as best they can just to get schooling."

Even though Andrew was "a man" now (according to his father), he no longer wanted his mother to hug him ("that was for little boys", he explained). Yet I could not stop myself. I hugged Andrew and said, "What a brave boy you are!"

This time he did not resist me. Even though Andrew had put a much better face on it than Angelique, I knew that he was as hurt as she was by actions of the Saxon children. I also knew that his fears for the Norman children were real.

When I released him I added, "We shall go to all the Norman parents in and around the castle this very day. I wish them to see what you have endured. I will ask them to send their children to the church tomorrow instead of to the town school. I will teach all of you myself until we can find another teacher."

Now he hugged me, as I asked, "Do you think you are able to do this, Andrew? If you would prefer to rest because your eye is hurting..."

Andrew got down from the table and replied, "We have many people to visit so we had best get started!" He took my hand and away we went.

Gilbert was delighted by this turn of events. As long as our children could be near him, then he was a very happy man. Of course, Angelique was never far away from her brother. The pair of them were now totally inseparable.

All of the Norman children left the town school. I was heartbroken to hear so many tales of their conflicts with the Saxon children. The only good outcome was that this made the Norman children eager to learn. Many of them had to teach English to their parents... and these were among the best students.

For the first time in my life, I was truly ashamed of being Saxon. We had always thought of ourselves as superior to Normans in every way. Yet, now Saxons had grown as cruel as they always claimed that the Normans were. There was no excuse for the Saxon children to torment their Norman peers as far as I was concerned. So, from that moment on, I ceased to consider myself Saxon.

While I taught in the church, Gilbert was hard at work building a school room. All of the Normans in and around the castle - whether they had children or not - helped with the construction of the school building. This was quite a strain on everyone but not one person complained about all this extra work.

Fortunately, for me, Gilbert had found and hired a teacher to take my place before the school was finished. Not only was it difficult for me to work two jobs, it was awkward for me to be a teacher in a classroom that included my own children. Yet to give Andrew and Angelique credit, they were model students.

Even so, it was hard for me to watch all the children file into the church with the new teacher and without me. Of course, Gilbert was thrilled. While I was teaching, I had been too tired to perform "my wifely duty" as he called it.

The first day children entered the new school, Gilbert came up behind me. He wrapped his arms around me and suggested that we celebrate by going to our bedchamber. I was surprised for he only liked to make love when it was late at night or early in the morning. Making love by daylight was quite the treat!

The new teacher was a great success. He joined the community by marrying a Norman widow whose mate had died in a sudden snowstorm the year before.

That winter had been quite hard on us all. So, my brilliant husband came up with a plan. Gilbert arranged for musicians to come to the castle and put on concerts... to which all were invited. Even the children liked attending them.

My husband was deeply affected by music. As a boy, wandering minstrels and troubadours would come to his parent's estate and play music or put on plays.

I can remember whiling away many a happy hour in the castle to the sounds of musicians playing and singing. Gilbert would lay his head on shoulder lap as he played with my hair... and we both just listened and enjoyed our closeness.

Lying on the ground for an extended period (when it was not too cold outside) always relaxed us both. Quite naturally, this heightened state of relaxation would put my dear husband in the mood for love! And it got me thinking that way as well... because I knew what he would be wanting.

One day was so hot that Gilbert took off his shirt and bared his battered chest. It was the first time that our children had seen his wounds. They both - in their own ways - were horrified by this sight. By now, my husband had accepted his scars. Seeing this made Gilbert reach for his shirt... but I took it from him.

I sat our children down and said, "Your father is so brave." I ran my fingers over his chest, and continued, "And these scars are the proof." I kissed Gilbert and added, "I love your father for his injuries... he got them from fighting for me... from fighting for us." I bent down and kissed his chest.

Each of our children then did the same. They said, "I love you, father, for your scars." Gilbert was so moved that he increased the number of concerts. These were always accompanied by the children fussing over their father's wounds.

That September my darling husband made our anniversary special by having a troupe of minstrels playing outside of our bedroom window. As soon as I heard the sounds of music, I ran to see it. He came up behind me and kissed me on the back of my neck. I said, "Oh my dearest, how very sweet of you to do this!"

Gilbert just wrapped his arms around my waist and started nibbling on my shoulders. "I am glad you approve, my love." My husband kissed me for a while and then he started to pull me back towards our bed.

I protested, "Can I not stay and listen until they are done?" Gilbert answered mischievously, "They will be playing all through the night!" Needless to say, we made passionate love the entire time, inspired by the playing minstrels.

Once my husband had a taste of leisure, he decided to hire others to undertake tasks that he had once reserved for himself. This left him free to take over another task that I would have preferred a woman to help me with. After my tiring woman was too old to perform her work, Gilbert helped me get dressed.

I am not quite sure exactly when it happened but gradually my dear husband had weaned me off of my rough work clothes. Over time, I began to dress in more flattering and fashionable clothing. Now that our community had grown, there was staff to complete tasks that I used to do by myself. My role was to see that others were doing the work at the castle instead of doing it myself.

Dressing as "the lady of the manor", however, was a new form of work. There were many layers that needed to be put on and tied together before dressing was complete. The richer you we became, the more layers that got added to my dressing up process and the more time it took to assemble the entire outfit.

Yet my husband just loved dressing me up... and I liked when he did it. The clothing that was changed the most was the under-garment next to my skin. This way oils, sweat, skin flakes, etc would be trapped on the under-garment, making it easier to keep the other outer garments clean.

Of course, my husband loved to rip off my under-gown to see if it needed cleaning (he said) but in truth so that he could get a good look at my naked body... which he just had to caress for several minutes if he felt amorously inclined! After inspecting a laundered under-gown for cleanliness, Gilbert would slip it over my body and fondle me all along the way.

He would cup my breasts just to make sure they were fitting into the gown properly (not necessary!). Then he helped me into my under-pants after briefly caressing my lady parts (not necessary but it was his price for dressing me!).

Then Gilbert would help me put on the under-bodice with more cupping as he laced it up to make sure my breasts were seated comfortably (which actually was very helpful). At times, he would kiss the tops of my breasts if time permitted (by now all his dawdling could cause us to be late for meals).

The next step for Gilbert was to help me into one or more skirts (sometimes I wore layers for warmth and also to show the rich fabrics!).

The final step was to help me into the over-bodice which he always had the dressmakers fit more tightly than I really liked. He loved to show off my breasts... and I agreed as long as the bodice was comfortable and tasteful.

As he did that, I quickly braided my flaxen hair and coiled it into a cap (he did not like that but I had to work: so too bad). Although on feast days and Sundays, Gilbert insisted that I wear the circlet my mother had made for me with my flaxen hair flowing loosely. He often paid more attention to my hair than to the sermons (by now, the castle had taken on a full-time minister).

Needless to say, my mother was none too pleased by my "fancy" dressing. From time to time, she would scold me for looking like a "Jezebel" when I knew that she meant I looked like a whore... but she held her tongue around Gilbert.

Now that the dressing was done... Gilbert had only a few minutes to convince me into undressing again! That really only worked in spring and summer if that would not make us late for breakfast... in winter and fall it was just too cold!

My husband loved to put his hands inside my clothes to caress me wherever he wanted! It was a game... that he loved winning. Gilbert said that this made him feel young. Of course, he was much faster at unlacing than lacing me up!

At times, my mother would catch us playing at dressing. More than once, she simply started breakfast without us. She would remark, "The children have to eat while you two are feasting on one another!" Most days, we not only had fun dressing up but we both made it to breakfast on time.

At night, my dear husband delighted in undressing me. The key part of the undressing ritual was taking off my cap and unbraiding my hair. Most women went to sleep with their braids on because it was just more practical to do so!

For the first few years, I tried to talk him out of unbraiding me... but he wore me down and so I accepted the unbraiding. While Gilbert was unbraiding my hair, we would talk about whatever business from the day was left unfinished.

In an unusual role reversal, this meant him explaining why he had or was going to spend more money than we had originally agreed upon. I would try and talk him out of it... which was a very strategic move... since while he was enjoying unbraiding my hair... he was FAR more receptive to my arguments!

Once discussion of the day's business was concluded, he would reach around from behind me and unlace my bodice. This unlacing took a while as there were many laces and as he just could not leave off of playing with my breasts.

If I complained, Gilbert would remind me of the marriage vows of those days... which gave a husband unlimited rights to touch his wife's body! Not that I minded that much... since a spirited discussion was part of our undressing ritual!

By now, I would turn around and start removing his clothes... as he reached behind me and unlaced my skirts in the back. It was hard for me to be anything other than loving while his hands were all over my body.

I would ask him to stop for a moment to raise his arms so that I could peel off his shirt. Many times, I would take a moment to really caress his naked chest. Then we moved on: as he loosened my skirts, I unlaced his pants.

Finally, we were both in our undergarments. Slowly and tenderly, we rolled them off our bodies. No matter how cold it was, we always went to bed naked (we only wore nightshirts when we were angry at one another).

By now if we were not completely worn down by the day, we both were really in the mood for love. Sometimes all that was were passionate kisses, more often it was full blown lovemaking... whenever Gilbert was well enough to do so.

Our happiness was so great then I decided not to tell Gilbert that a letter had been delivered to the castle from his mother. After her betrayal of him, Gilbert would not return her letters... and eventually she stopped writing him. The letter contained the news that she was very ill and she begged her son's forgiveness.

Although the memory of how badly Gilbert had been beaten was seared into my mind, I felt that it was time for the hatred to stop. There had been several fights between the Normans and the Saxons recently so town and castle had gone back to being isolated from one another. I just wanted peace at long last.

When Gilbert took Andrew on a hunting trip with the other Norman men and their sons, I took the opportunity to let the peace begin with me. I wrote a reply to his mother. I said that my husband was out on a hunting party and that I was writing on his behalf. I lied and said I was writing to her on his instructions.

I gave her general news about our family. I knew that she would be pleased to learn that we had named our daughter after her two eldest. They had died before her sons were born but, according to Gilbert, she spoke of them often.

I told her of the memorial to Stephane (full well knowing that was the last thing she wanted to hear). I told her that "despite everything" that Gilbert was well. I was not sure if she ever realized that we knew all about her treachery. I must confess that I hoped this would make her feel sorry for all she had done to him.

I wrote that my beloved husband had forgiven her. I hoped that this news would allow her to die in peace. I said that, while all was not forgotten, it was forgiven. I concluded by wishing her well. I signed with my formal married name.

I knew that my husband was still angry with his mother... but that some part of him would regret not making amends with her before she died. So, I interfered and hoped that my husband would never discover my meddling.

Then one day, nearly a year later, I was supervising the taking inventory of the grain in one of the store rooms when my darling ran inside. Before I could ask him what he wanted, my husband started showering me with kisses.

I got swept up in the whirlpool of his passion and it was all I could do to keep up with his fevered kissing. As soon as he released me, I asked him what I had done to merit such passion. He held me close and whispered in my ear, "She apologized to me... I could scarcely believe it when I read it..."

Then Gilbert explained that another letter had arrived that day from his mother. She had admitted to all her wrongdoings in the past. It was his forgiveness, she wrote, that had inspired this apology. His mother had enclosed my letter with hers. So now my husband knew everything about my interference.

My darling pressed his lips against my ear. "You are the kindest, dearest wife a man could ever be blessed with. Thank you for having the courage and the kindness to do what I could not bring myself to do..."

I replied, "I knew what was in your heart, my love. I knew what needed to be done and I am glad you are not angry with me for interfering. You are the best husband a woman could ever have... I am the one who is blessed in you."

Gilbert persuaded me to let the servants continue with the inventory without me. The day was fine and so we took a walk. I was surprised when he took me to Stephane's memorial. He opened his mother's letter and read from it.

He read the part where his mother had begged Stephane's forgiveness for having treated him so cruelly all her life. When he finished, Gilbert made the sign of the cross and said, "I hope you can be at peace now, my brother."

Not long after Gilbert had received his letter from his mother, one morning we were awakened by our children. Angelique was sobbing and Andrew was frantic. They had tried and failed to wake their grandmother up.

So, I asked Gilbert to calm the children down as I raced to my mother's side. She looked so peaceful. All the care and struggle that usually was written on her face had melted away. She looked serene and happy. I knew before I touched her that my mother was dead... and her hard life was finally over with.

I felt empty inside. Long before she died, we had completely reconciled. Once she became a part of our children's lives, her health improved. Her old vitality returned. It seemed like she would live long enough to see them married.

Her passing was quite unexpected as she had seemed perfectly healthy the day before. She had been playing with them as usual the night before.

Andrew loved to play battle games with my mother because, unlike Gilbert, she would let him win. Unlike me, she actually enjoyed playing such battle games.

Angelique loved my mother to fix her hair because, unlike me, she was quite good at braiding and making curls. At times, my mother was far better at getting Gilbert be less over-protective of our shy, sweet daughter than I was.

At her funeral, Andrew buried his face in his father's side because he did not want anyone else seeing his tears. Gilbert had to hold Angelique in his arms because she was so tearful that she kept on falling down.

Out of respect for my mother, all of her Saxon patients came for her funeral service. Out of respect for Gilbert and I, the entire Norman community turned out. I gave the eulogy for my poor mother as I was the only family she had left.

By then, my brother was dead. My sister and her husband had left the town to start new lives. That was the usual way Saxons got divorced: they assumed new identities and went their separate ways to different places.

Being naturally talkative, my Norman husband never liked to remain silent. Although I loved talking with Gilbert, my heart was too full after my mother's passing. I could not speak to him or anyone else without crying.

There was only one way that I ever got my husband to lie with me - silently - in bed. I would wash my hair in rose water and unbraid it. That was the signal that I did not wish to speak but merely to be held in quiet.

Rose water was water infused with crushed flower petals. When hair was washed in rose water, it would have the most wonderful floral fragrance. Rose water also made my hair ultra-soft and silky to the touch.

My darling loved nothing more than burying his hands and face in "rose washed" hair while we lay silently together in the privacy of our bedchamber. Playing with my flaxen hair brought my husband immense pleasure.

Having my husband worship my body in this loving manner made me feel beautiful. This night, I enjoyed the freedom from talking. I focused on feeling Gilbert's love. I needed to feel his love so badly that night.

Although my relationship with my mother had often been troubled, at bottom, we had always loved one another. Even when my mother "betrayed" me by letting my sister consort with my then fiancé, I still loved her. Even when I had walked away from her on the Saxon "Day of the Dead" when her grandson had died, I still loved her. Our bond had been stretched but it was never broken.

My silence had finally gotten to Gilbert. "Sauran," he pleaded. "Please talk to me. Tell me what is in your heart... I want to help you."

I turned to him and buried my face in his chest. I felt as if I had run out of both tears and words. He then said, "It's all right... I won't make you speak." He stroked my hair, kissed my head, and said, "Just don't leave me..."

Andrew, my brave little soldier, did his best to cheer us all up after my mother died. Yet, poor little Angelique was inconsolable.

Angelique cried by the hour as her father and her brother held her hand. When they tired of this task, I took over. I could not bring myself to cry in front of my children. I felt that I needed to be calm for their sakes. Indeed, it seemed to me that my poor daughter was crying for the both of us.

I was sorry that my children had to be confronted with the reality of death so young. Yet, as it was often repeated in church: "death is a part of life." My mother had also said that whenever she had to comfort grieving mothers when they lost their children during the birthing process.

This was as little comfort to Angelique as it was to me. Yet, I finally understood Gilbert's reaction to the death of his brother, Stephane. The loss was too deep and the hurt too great to deal with at first... just as it was with my mother.

I knew one day that I would grieve as piteously as Angelique... just not today. I was more like Andrew, keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself.

Gilbert did his best to comfort us all. In fact, about two weeks after my mother died, Gilbert took me to the Saxon grave-yard where my mother was laid to rest. There among all the wooden crosses was a headstone... for my mother.

My dear husband had commissioned it just after she died. It was full of Saxon symbols carved carefully into beautiful patters. Her name was written in both English and in the native Saxon language. I was deeply touched.

Although it was not yet the Saxon "Day of the Dead", I began speaking as if it were. Gilbert stood in silence while I related tale after tale of my mother's kindness to me. He listened patiently until I could speak no more.

At night, Gilbert would do his best to try and break me out of my despair. When I was ready to make love again, I agree to experience a "sex trick" that my husband had learned during his time in the Army.

He would look deeply into my eyes, projecting his energy into my body and mind... as if he was penetrating them just like he normally entered me during intercourse. We would keep our eyes locked as Gilbert repeated these words.

"In the distance, you see a gateway. See yourself walking through this doorway into a land of forbidden desire. Once you step through this door, you will feel intense sexual desire filling your body. I will count from one to five."

"One, you are going through the door. Two, you are feeling all your cares fall away from you. Three, you are becoming relaxed. Four, breathe slowly to fill your body with warmth. Five, feel desire spreading throughout your body."

"Notice seeing my naked body and hearing my powerful voice… Notice how you feel desire for me building… notice how you are desiring me more and more..."

"Feel yourself desiring me even more passionately... Feel your love for me pouring into the top of your head. Take a deep breath and allow your love for me to slowly travel down throughout your body. Feel it gathering in your heart. Feel it moving down and then gathering in-between your legs."

"Feel your desire for me taking you over and filling you will unstoppable passion. Now, as you continue to feel this, I will count from one to three. And when I finish counting down, while you will remain in this heat of passion, you will share all your desire with me now. Counting one… two… and three!"

Although this did make me feel better, I could not take pleasure from it. Gilbert, of course, understood. This wore me out and mercifully I drifted into sleep.

I woke up to find Gilbert peacefully resting beside me. Usually he woke up first. So, I now I had the rare chance to watch my husband sleep.

When Gilbert was awake, he was so full of energy and ambition that he was constantly moving around and doing things. Yet when he slept he rarely moved... so I could pass the time pleasantly by tracing the contours of his muscles with my eyes. Oddly, this filled me with feelings of peacefulness.

Most days it was like Gilbert could hear me thinking or feel my eyes upon him... for it did not take him long to wake up once I started watching him. Yet it did not happen that night... perhaps it was my mother's spirit that kept him sleeping.

So, I thought back to happier times. For a few moments I got adventurous and pulled back the sheets so that I could view Gilbert in all his naked glory.

When I did that in the past, it was certain to result in lovemaking because, in his words, "you should never inspect the goods without first having the intention to buy them!" More often I would spend the time thinking of what I would say (usually a compliment) when he opened his eyes and saw me staring at him.

Another time, I remember being concerned that Gilbert was doing too much and that it was aging him prematurely. This was because my husband started going grey earlier than most men. He told me this was common to males in his family.

Actually, that streak of gray made my husband appear to be quite distinguished. He looked older but wiser. His streak of grey made him even more handsome - in my eyes - than he been on the day we had first met.

I wished I had told my mother about some of this. Then I thought that perhaps she was looking down on us from Heaven... and that she finally understood why I had loved Gilbert so much. I shut my eyes and prayed for her eternal soul.

Little by little, the pain of my mother's passing fell away from me and from our children. Gilbert and my mother had tolerated one another for our sakes. So, he was much less affected by grief over her passing than the rest of us were.

I was still so grieved that I found myself unable to make love to Gilbert. He understood and contented himself with receiving healing from me. Even though it was a healing touch, my husband could pretend that I was pleasuring him. For myself, I could still feel like I was being a true and loyal wife to him.

One time when I was working my way across his chest with my thumb pressing gently against him, Gilbert purred with contentment. "I am the luckiest husband in the world to have a wife so skillful and compassionate... What you are doing feels so wonderful! I am so grateful..." I bent over and kissed him.

I said softly, "It is my sincere pleasure to heal you this way, my dearest. I love touching your body and feeling so much warmth and pleasure flowing through you. I am especially grateful that we can share this time together."

"My mother was the one who taught me this..." I said, but I could not keep the tears out of my voice. After she died I had become more deeply aware of the fragility of life. I had lost my mother: what if I were to lose Gilbert?

I could not stop my tears. I said, "Oh, my love, you work too hard... as I have often told you. Seeing you so relaxed and happy - at this moment - touches my heart... and gives me hope that we shall share all our days together..."

"I wonder how much longer we will be together if you insist on pushing yourself as if you were still young." At this point, my thumb was right over his heart.

"I cannot imagine my life without you. You may think that I am being kind in healing you like this... but in fact I am being quite selfish. I do this because it is all I can think to do... to keep you healthy... since you refuse to listen to sensible advice to slow down... and take things easier..." I melted into tears.

My husband put his arms around me. "I promise to take things easier... so I put myself in your hands, my dear wife. I swear to act on your sensible advice."

What I regretted most about my mother's passing was that she did not see our children growing into adulthood. If it had been up to Gilbert, our children would have remained as the little sprites he could pick up and twirl through the air.

Yet both Andrew and Angelique grew into their own distinctive personalities. As Angelique grew, she became even more sweet natured and devoted to us as her parents. Although Andrew and I continued to be close, at times, our son and his father's relationship grew to be ever more problematic.

As he grew older, Andrew seemed less and less interested in his father's pursuits. Although our son was happy to help his father with building projects around the castle, he was less interested in hunting, farming, or gaming. Andrew seemed to take even less interest in learning soldierly pursuits.

Increasingly, he spent more time in his mother's library. Yet Gilbert's interest in reading more books was confined to those about pleasuring. Even then he only brought those books into our bedchamber so we could act on their advice.

One day, rather bitterly, Gilbert had asked, "Are there book worms in your library? I think that Andrew may have been bitten by one of them!"

We had been walking in the field inside the castle wall... I tried to make light of it and said, "Andrew just takes after me in his love of reading... that's all." Gilbert sighed, "When I was Andrew's age, I was training to go off to war..."

I took his hand and said, "I prefer peace. I am selfish enough to want both of my men by my side. Besides, Angelique would be lost without her brother."

My husband embraced me and said, "As long as Andrew continues with his martial arts practice along with his riding and archery lessons, I suppose it will not hurt him to read a few books." Then we turned to more pleasant topics.

So, when Andrew was in the library, it was time that he was certain to be away from his father. The more time Andrew spent in the library, the more unhappy that father and son seemed to become with one another.

I started to notice that, like Gilbert, Andrew read books on the same subject. He was reading about the law... so I asked him why.

"If I tell you, just as I have already told Angelique, then I must swear you to secrecy. I know how much you hate to keep anything from our father."

I took the rosary from my pocket. "I will swear on this, before the Holy Mother, that whatever you tell me, will be held in the confidence of the confessional."

Andrew finally admitted, "I don't wish to become a soldier, mother. I have to desire to fight in battle. Please don't tell father."

I laughed. "That is the last thing I would do as your father has his heart set on you becoming a soldier. Yet, at some point, he will have to be told about it." I pointed to his book and said, "I take it that you wish to study law instead?"

The passion of his answer reminded me of his father in his youth. "It is so unfair, mother. The Saxons misuse the law to cheat the Normans out of what is rightfully theirs! Someone must fight back against this injustice!"

I smiled, "Who better to do that the Norman son of the master of the castle?"

Andrew rose and threw his arms around me. Since he had been "too manly" to want to do that anymore, I enjoyed this rare mother-son embrace.

I knew that this news would devastate Gilbert. However, Andrew had inherited his mother's restless mind and thirst for knowledge. How many times had I brought a book to mock tournaments that my husband loved and read them while others were taking the field? So, I needed to find a way to help my son achieve his dreams... and to stop that from breaking my husband's heart.

Before I would reveal Andrew's plans to Gilbert, I had to make sure that his desire for the legal profession was genuine. Since there was an ongoing dispute between the castle and one of the merchants in town, I took Andrew to court with me. There he could see what it meant to be involved in a legal battle.

I was hoping that my son would quickly weary of being in court. If I had any doubts about his zeal for the law, they vanished as soon as Andrew stepped into the court room. He listened with more interest to the proceedings than I could have ever believed possible. Never had I seen him more engaged.

In fact, at one point, Andrew whispered a great defense in our case that I had not even considered. So, I presented it and the judge ruled in our favor.

Apparently, Andrew had read about a similar case in our library. Although I knew that Gilbert would be pleased that we had won in court, he would not be pleased by who had done that. I knew he would not be as proud of our son as I was. As we walked back to the castle, I dreaded having to face my husband.

Of course, news of this spread like wild fire through the Saxon community as this wisdom from this "Saxon looking" boy made them proud. So, I knew that it would only be a matter of time before this news reached the castle. Even though the Normans and Saxons were at odds, the one thing they had in common was the need to spread interesting gossip.

I was shocked that word had gotten to the castle before we returned. I could practically feel the heat from Gilbert's eyes burning me as we approached them.

My husband snapped his fingers and Andrew's tutor came forward. "You are late for your riding lesson and your archery practice, young man!"

As Andrew went off with his tutor, Gilbert gave me an angry stare before he turned and walked away. I had been hoping that my husband would be pleased that we had prevailed in court. Yet he avoided me for the rest of the day.

My husband was a firm believer in the time-honored rule: "Do not go to bed on your anger." During the period of my "captivity", I went to bed angry at him every night. After we resolved our differences, Gilbert was adamant about us never going to bed on our anger again. That was not true of this night however.

On this occasion, Gilbert kicked off his boots, shed his clothes, and got in bed beside me facing in the opposite direction. So, I reached over to him and said, "Please, my love, before I sleep, may I not have the privilege of holding you in my arms? I have missed you so much this day... I crave your touch!"

My dearest husband put on the false snore that told me he would rather pretend to sleep than to discuss why I had taken Andrew to court with me. I caressed Gilbert's back provocatively in the way that I knew he liked it.

It was the supreme irony of our marriage that I was more open about asking - in words - for what I wanted during lovemaking than he was. Obviously, Gilbert was better about taking actions to get what he wanted than I was.

Quite clearly, my darling had sexual preferences but he did not speak openly of them. Instead, I had to judge by his reactions in bed as to what my husband really did and did not want from me as a sexual partner.

One of his unspoken favorites was for me to cup his balls in the palm of my hand... and then gently finger them into hardness. So, I started doing that.

"I am not a fool." Gilbert's voice was more hurt than sad. "Did you think I failed to notice that Andrew was reading those law books? Did you not know that I saw Andrew speaking at length with the magistrate last Christmas?"

I started to answer when he interrupted angrily. "And now my own wife takes my son into court for all the world to see!" I stopped massaging him.

"Oh, my dearest," I began. "I am sorry that I have upset you..." His voice was so hoarse that I could barely make it out. "How could you do that to me?"

I started showering him with kisses as I said, "Forgive me for not having told you of Andrew's desire to study the law. I took him to court with me because I wanted to see if this was just some passing fancy of his. It was not."

Gilbert's body shook with the force of his emotions. "Will you never fully trust me, Sauran? Andrew is my son too, not just yours..."

"Oh, my dearest," I said. "I do trust you. I just... I just had to be sure. I knew how much you wanted Andrew to follow in your footsteps. I knew how much it would hurt you if Andrew proved to be sincere in his calling to the law..."

"I was just trying to spare you pain had the law been just a passing fancy of his. He told me that he wanted to study law so that he could protect you, Angelique, and the rest of our Normans from what he called 'Saxon injustice'..."

Gilbert's reaction was instant and explosive. He pounced on me like a love starved teenager. He practically sucked the air out of my lungs. He grabbed me and we rolled around on our big bed bouncing from place to place.

His passion was so very loud and unrestrained that I was glad that Gilbert had increased the thickness of our bedchamber door... or else the servants would surely have heard the shrieks of my utter delight... and perhaps have mistaken them and come to my aid. That only made him bolder and louder in his noises.

This wave of passion climaxed into an explosive orgasm for us both... that literally broke the legs of the bed! He was so overwhelmed by this explosion that he went to fast to sleep in my arms. After having suffered from the plague late in life, he "could only go once a night" by then unlike "a real man".

Gilbert had asked me to search through all my books for a cure to this "problem" but I knew this was a natural result of the aging process. Yet, I, too was getting older. So, we both learned to enjoy "more" of what had become "less".

Sexual satisfaction slurred his voice as Gilbert asked, "How long have I slept?" I purred, "Not long... you are still inside me... it pleases me to feel you there for a while longer!" He rewarded me with a tender kiss.

I could literally feel his smile lighting up the darkness. With a satisfied voice, he replied, "Not bad for an old man, even if I do say so myself!" I rested my hand on his back over his heart. I nibbled his ear (which I knew that he loved).

I made sure that my voice was loud and clear as I said, "You are NOT an old man! I doubt that any young and strong man could pleasure his wife... as deeply as you have pleasured me this night! It is simply impossible!"

Gilbert laughed and tightened his arms around me, "I suppose there is something to be said for years of experience..."

I replied, "Do not forget that the 'book learning' of love you have studied so diligently makes you... the most passionate lover in the entire world!"

I was completely surprised by his reaction of utter shock! "You mean that I am better NOW than ever before?" I kissed him before I said, "Without a doubt, you are a better and more skilled lover now than at any time in the past!"

Gilbert corrected me. "WE are better than ever before... So, Sauran, I must accept that our son is as bookish as we both are. Well, if Andrew is to study law then he must do it from the castle. I will not have him go to university."

The matter became settled. Andrew was over-joyed when Gilbert arranged to pay to have the magistrate give him private instruction in the legal profession. Now all the tension between father and son was gone. They became as happy with one another as they had been when Andrew was just a little boy.

Now that Andrew had settled on his career, Angelique gave increasing thought to her future life. Now roles were reversed. It was my daughter who sought her father's assistance in convincing me about the wisdom of her choice.

Unlike Andrew, I did not have any idea of what was going on in my daughter's mind. At this point, although I had tried to draw her out, Angelique was a mystery to me. Although we were close, she was truly her father's daughter. Just as Andrew usually confided in me first, Angelique confided in Gilbert first.

As our daughter grew older, she had become ever more shy and retiring. I knew that part of it stemmed from the constant mistreatment she had received from the Saxons due to her Norman looks. I knew that part of it was that she was content to do whatever her father or her brother advised her to do.

I had raised this topic with Gilbert one night in our bedchamber. "Oh, my poor Sauran, you worry too much about our dear Angelique. She is young yet." I countered, "Andrew knows what he wants and they are the same age!"

Gilbert pulled out a book and said, "You need to relax. I found something in this book that we have not yet tried. It is called the 'Female Triple Crown' and, if what it is says in here is true, then you are bound to be pleased."

So, I decided to try it. My husband insisted on doing everything himself. He repositioned my body as if I was a rag doll. I was far too intrigued to resist him.

He pressed his thumb on a certain spot on my elbow. My eyes flew open wider as a jolt of sexual desire rolled through my body. Then he added in a gentle massage of my instantly erect nipple. Then with his other hand, he reached in-between my legs and started massaging my female pearl.

All I could think about was the intense pleasure coursing through my body as sexual energy surged from my womanhood to my breast to my elbow and back again. At that moment, I would have said "Yes" to anything he asked of me... that was how completely Gilbert had aroused my passion.

I could not move or speak as Gilbert rolled on top of me. His lips and his hands where everywhere. I became caught up into his high sexual energy.

"Oh, my dearest," I cried, as soon as his tongue was out of my mouth. "I love you so much, Gilbert!" At that moment, my husband's body shook mine with the volcanic intensity of his sexual release. We both cried out with passion.

It was minutes before either of us could take in enough air to speak. He was the first: by the way Gilbert said my name, I knew something was amiss.

"Oh Gilbert," I pleaded. "I am so happy. Can your bad news wait?" We knew each other so well that, many times, a single word between us could communicate volumes. Most of the time that was a good thing... but not now.

He looked into my eyes and said, "I wish it could wait... but Sunday will come whether we wish it to or not. There is no easy way to say this... Angelique wishes to become a nun... and to take her holy orders this Sunday."

If I had not been happily nestled underneath my husband, I would have sprung from our bed to walk off my anger. "NO!" was my loud and instant answer.

Before he could reply, I said, "Angelique is just seeking to escape from life. Who is the one that prays for a half hour each day in the church castle? Me not her! Who is the one that prays for an entire hour on Sunday? Me not her!"

"Who is the one who fell asleep in the pew last year during Christmas services? Her not me! Who is the one who always yawns during sermons? Her not me!"

"Can you honestly tell me, Gilbert, that Angelique has a sincere religious vocation? No, you cannot! You may not indulge Angelique's shyness this way!"

When I had calmed down, Gilbert let me out from under him. We laid side by side as we continued the conversation about Angelique.

I stroked his hair and said, "If I thought that Angelique could be made happy by joining holy orders, I would not stand in her way... Yet, she is just very lonely now that Andrew is courting Edwina and he is more often in town..."

Gilbert snapped, "Andrew and Edwina are NOT courting. In fact, I daily pray that Andrew will come to his senses and find someone MORE suitable! This Edwina... I do not think she is right for our Andrew."

I hoped to calm him down by saying, "I do agree with you that Andrew and Edwina are far too young to be married. Our son has promised me that he will not even consider being wed until he has completed his law studies." Gilbert kissed me. "I should have known my sensible wife had a plan."

I reminded him. "We were speaking about Angelique! Think back, my dear, to when your mother tried to force you to go into the monastery. How often have you said that the month you were on trial there was the worst of your life?"

"Not to mention that if Angelique goes into the convent, she will never see any of us ever again. Don't you think she would come to miss her father's love, her brother's kindness, or her mother's devotion to her?"

Gilbert's voice shook. "I do not want Angelique to leave us. I just want her to be happy. I want her to be protected. I am certain that, when we are gone, Andrew can take care of himself... but I worry constantly for Angelique. I know her brother will always look after her... but will that be enough?"

I embraced Gilbert and said, "It is as you have said, Angelique is young yet. Before we leave this life, I know that we shall see her safely settled."

Our anniversary had come again. As usual, there was a lavish dinner. It was a mostly all Norman affair except for those few Saxons who were loyal to us.

That year there was one Saxon addition to our party: Edwina, the girl my son had fallen in love with... over his father's strong objections. My husband was not happy that my son brought Edwina to the castle for our feast.

Andrew felt that he should begin to include his betrothed in family events to get his father used to the idea of their intended marriage. Now that Andrew had completed his law studies and was starting to practice law, I felt that it was time for them to honor and complete their love. It was time for them to wed.

Knowing how much this was sure to upset Gilbert, I did my best to put him in a good mood. I wore the circlet and let my hair fall loose (which he loved). The night before I made him one of his favorite French desserts (which I served in the privacy of our bedchamber). He loved that I spoke French as I did so.

Then I coaxed my dear husband onto our bed and rubbed healing salve all over his scars (which he loved). I told him - truthfully - that his scars were beautiful to me because it reminded me of how hard he had fought to be with me. This had relaxed my husband so thoroughly that he feel into a deep sleep.

He awoke this day so happy that he kept on humming his favorite songs all day. So, now, I kissed Gilbert before I stood up and made a startling toast.

I raised my cup to calm the clamor of the assembled crowd. I began, "I can think of no better way to celebrate the love that I share with my darling husband... who is the best man I know and who I cherish above my own life..."

I paused to enjoy the broad smile that was crossing Gilbert's face... because I knew it would not last. Then I took a breath and continued, "...than to announce the engagement of our son and his lovely young fiancée, Edwina."

This was a surprise to all concerned. My son had been waiting for the right time to approach his father about this... but I knew that the right time was now.

"Please," I continued, "both of you, stand up and receive our congratulations on your engagement..." My son's jaw dropped open but then he smiled and helped his blushing fiancée to her feet. The room broke into wild cheers and applause.

As expected, my beloved husband was the only one who did not share in the joy. He just gritted his teeth as I sat down beside him. I put my hand over his and Gilbert immediately withdrew it. He would not look me in the eye.

All sorts of people came over and patted Gilbert on the back. My poor husband just shook his head and pasted on a lukewarm smile. Quite honestly that was a better reaction than I had expected to what was - for him - unwelcome news.

Although Gilbert would never had admitted it, he thought that no one was good enough to be wed to either of our children. If I am honest, at first, I did not have a good opinion of Edwina. She seemed secretive and reserved. Yet, like our daughter, she was also considerate and kind. Andrew was head over heels in love with her. I thought, at first, that it was just a childhood passion.

Over time, I became convinced otherwise. What won me over was how Edwina went out of her way to be considerate of Angelique. She included our daughter in their walking out (no other young woman would do that!). If our daughter could not go out with them, Edwina waited until Angelique could join them.

Then I discovered that Edwina had been forbidden to see Andrew by her family. Angelique had gone to her family and asked to hire Edwina to dress her hair. I was touched to learn that Angelique paid the family for that from her own purse out of her allowance. While Edwina was supposed to be at work on Angelique, she and Andrew continued to court... underneath Angelique's approving eye.

When I became convinced both of Andrew's love for Edwina and Angelique's friendship for her, I became their ally. I took over paying Edwina's family for her time. She dressed my hair which made Gilbert less suspicious of her constant presence at the castle. Now, however, their engagement was out in the open.

My son Andrew, although quite brilliant in other ways, was not one to pick up on any subtleties of behavior. I saw him making his way toward us and so I headed him off. I grabbed my son's arm and whispered, "Your father is not very happy with either one of us at the moment. Best to leave him alone for a while."

So, Andrew returned to his fiancée who was now surrounded by Normans (who were quick to adopt her as their own). They began telling Edwina all sorts of embarrassing stories from my son's childhood... and she loved it!

I looked over my shoulder at my husband who was staring sadly at us. I waited until my son had joined into the lively conversation before returning to his side.

Before I could reach him, my husband sought out other companions. Our daughter, Angelique, seeing this went to give her father a kiss hoping to cheer him up. Although he gladly received it, Gilbert returned to his conversation.

After a while, Gilbert's companions called for more drinks. He rose and called for a dance. He walked right past me and extended his hand to Angelique and they danced. Andrew and his fiancée led the line of dancers (this was my son's right since this dinner was now his engagement party).

Except for the fact that Gilbert was avoiding me, the time passed pleasantly enough. Then we retired for the night. My husband stripped down to his undershirt and flopped into bed. He was surprised to hear the ripping of cloth behind him. He was angry to feel my hands on his now naked back.

"It is still our anniversary," I explained, "that gives me the right to enjoy your naked body..." He snapped, "...but not the right to ruin my clothes!" I added, "... and not the right to ruin your anniversary. It was bad enough that you did not congratulate Andrew's fiancée... but your coldness really upset Angelique."

I pulled the last of his night shirt off him and I rolled him onto his back. I said, "Our son loves this woman. Have you grown so old that you have forgotten what it is like for a man to love a woman with his whole heart?"

Gilbert put his arms around me and rolled me under him. "I have not forgotten... I love you with my whole heart, Sauran, even though you broke our pact. Remember you agreed not to take decisions without me!"

After we spoke for a while, Gilbert finally got to the heart of the matter. "Edwina is pretty enough I grant you that. Yet she is so common. Even you must admit, that she is not well educated. I wonder at what they can even speak about when they are alone. I just wish my son loved one who was worthy of him..."

I kissed him. "Oh, my dearest, you may not remember this... but that is what your mother said about me... that she 'wished her son loved one who was more worthy' of him...'" Gilbert sighed and then wrapped his arms around me.

He kissed me for a few moments before I said, "Allow your son the same freedom you took for yourself..." He whispered in my ear, "I only hope when they are our age that they enjoy the same happiness we have found together..."

Our lovemaking that night was especially sweet. We both loved one another in perfect harmony. No one seeing this would have thought that any angry word had ever passed our lips about our disagreement over our son's engagement.

So, I was justified in believing that I had "sexed" my husband into approving of Edwina. I was wrong! The next day father and son had a huge fight over the "wisdom of Andrew's marriage" (one of the few times they ever fought in anger).

This fight ended by my son saying, "How you can stay married to that man, mother, is an amazement to me!" I knew Andrew did not mean that... and it was just anger. Unfortunately, his father overheard that remark and shouted, "Tell your son that until he can show better manners he is unwelcome in this castle!"

Andrew kissed my hand, glared at his father, and stormed out. I followed my son and gave him the keys to my family's old farm. I was going to give it to him on his wedding day but now he needed a place to stay. So, while his father cooled down, my son could take shelter at the farm for as long as he needed to.

My husband was miserable all day, growling and snapping at everyone, quite unlike his normal wonderful self. Even another spirited round of lovemaking did nothing to improve Gilbert's sullen and angry mood.

I could hear my husband still arguing with my son in his head even as he lay in seemingly contented "post coital" silence on my chest.

I wrapped my legs around him (which he loved) and said, "Andrew is just like you, my dearest." He grunted, "Your son is nothing like me!"

I started massaging his legs with the soles of my feet. "Let's see," I persisted. "Andrew wants to be his own man... just like his father. Andrew wants to make his own way without help from his family... just like his father. Andrew is strong willed and opinionated and hot tempered... just like his father. Andrew wants to pursue his own profession and marry who he chooses... just like his father..."

My darling snorted. "I would sooner hang myself than practice law! What kind of work is that for a man anyway? Endless arguments and paperwork! Nit-picking over the true meaning of words. Squinting away one's eyesight by scratching small words into smaller ledgers. What is Andrew thinking?"

I pressed on. "Andrew wants to have his own land and build his own house... just like his father. Perhaps the thing you cannot forgive Andrew for... is that he wants to choose his own wife... just like his father."

Gilbert grunted. "If he really wanted to succeed at law then he could, at least, choose to marry a woman who would help him to further his career!"

I continued, "He wants a woman to stir his passion... just like his father! He wants to wed a Saxon peasant... just like his father..."

Gilbert raised his head and looked me straight in the eye. "I never thought of you as a Saxon peasant..." I smiled, "Yet, I am and so is she..."

He sighed, "Edwina is just so commonplace... I fear Andrew will grow tired of her..." I kissed him. "I know that you want what is best for our son... just as I do. The problem is that Andrew does not know this... our poor son thinks you are being difficult because you have ceased to love him..."

Shock and surprise danced in his eyes. "Of course, I love Andrew. If I did not love him so well, I would not care about what he does or does not do with his life. I just cannot help but feel that Andrew is making the wrong choice..."

I sighed, "Now you know how I felt about Angelique wanting to go into the convent... That would have been the wrong choice for her. The difference between them is that Andrew has always been serious about the law... and he has always been serious about Edwina. Angelique has never been serious about going into religious orders. Please Gilbert think carefully..."

My husband sighed: I touched his cheek and said, "I know you love Andrew... that you want what is best for him. When you were his age, you insisted on choosing for yourself: grant him our son the same privilege."

I added, "You are wrong about his fiancée... Edwina's family objects to the match even more than you do. Heir to the castle or not, he is still half Norman and none but she are even willing to consider our poor Andrew for a husband... Edwina really loves him. I am certain that she would be a good wife to him..."

My husband was humbled by my words. So, I let them rest in his heart while I paid a visit to my family farm to find that Andrew was as miserable as Gilbert.

My son and I had taken our ease under the shade of a tree. My poor son had finally remarked, "Father hates me. He only really loves Angelique!"

I took his hand. "That is not true, Andrew. Angelique is so meek and trusting that your father feels that he must protect her... just like you have often felt that you must protect your sister. Although I love my sweet daughter Angelique dearly, she has not the strength that you, I, or your father possess."

"Your father, at times, fusses over your sister more because he feels that she is in more need of his care than you are. Truth be told, you and your father are cut from the same cloth... which is why the two of you have clashed now."

I could see that Andrew was quite upset so I put my arm around his shoulder.

"Remember that your father is the one who delighted in teaching you to hunt, to fish, and to ride. He never took special trips into the woods with Angelique..."

Andrew countered, "Angelique was far too delicate to go..." I smiled. "When you and your father were away on your trips, Angelique told me that she thought your father only really loved you because he took you out hunting!"

Andrew was surprised by this, "Really, mother? Angie really said that?" I kissed his cheek, "Has your mother ever been untruthful with you?"

My son embraced me. "No, mother. You have always told me the truth." I could feel him shaking as he asked me, "Why does father no longer love me? How can he not see how much I love Edwina?" Like his father, my son rarely cried. So, I held him as he wept for a while.

Once Andrew calmed, I said, "Your father does love you very much. If he did not care for you so deeply, then it would not matter to him who you wed. Since he does care, he believes - wrongly - that Edwina is not the right woman for you. I have to convince your father of the error of his ways."

That made Andrew smile. I continued, "There is a part in this that you are not seeing... which I must tell you now. Do you remember that your father has an elder brother, named Roger, in France?" Andrew nodded, "Father rarely speaks of him... and then not very kindly."

I replied, "There is a reason for that. His elder brother Roger, like you, pursued studies of the law. Roger had been trained as a solider along with your father and Stephane of blessed memory. Like you, he had no interest in martial arts."

"Your father loved being a soldier. Despite his mother's wishes, he did not become a priest as she intended. Yet your uncle Roger fulfilled his mother's highest ambitions by rising through the legal profession to become an advisor to the French King himself. In your father's family, only Roger was loved and never your father or Stephane... and that hurt your father deeply - it still does."

I concluded. "So, you can imagine what a dagger to your father's heart it was when you decided to follow your uncle's path and not his." Andrew sighed. "Why did you not tell me this sooner, mother?"

I shook my head. "You must stop thinking your parents to be perfect. We are not. You and your sister idolize your father far more than you should. While I love him dearly, I knew your father when he was much less perfect."

"I shall tell you a story proving his small imperfection... one that you must never repeat to him... Now you must swear to keep my confidence." Andrew smiled and said, "I swear that I shall mother."

"In the early days of our marriage, your father sometimes - well, really often - became carried him away by his passion for me. At times, his enthusiasm caused him to be... rougher with me than he intended during... love play."

"Since I was enjoying his attentions, I was reluctant to tell him about it when the love marks made at night would show up on my body by day."

I patted Andrew's shoulder and said, "I have seen such marks on your intended, my son, so do not pretend you do not know what I speak about!" Andrew laughed as I continued, "One day, the truth could no longer be hidden."

"I awoke to find a big bruise on my neck from where your father had kissed me too passionately during the night. I was staring at the bruise in my mirror, trying to decide how best to hide it... when your father crept up behind me."

"I tried to cover up the love mark but he pushed my hand away and asked, 'Did I do that?' I told him 'It was in the heat of passion, my dear. I know that you did not mean to hurt me...' Your father said, 'I am so sorry, my love...'"

Then he avoided me for the rest of the day. His shame was so great that he could not look me in the eye. When bedtime came, he gave me a quick and gentle peck on the cheek and said 'Good Night' rather sheepishly."

"I reached over to touch him but he gave off what I knew to be a false snore and so I left him alone. This went on for several days... until one night I blurted out, 'If I have forgiven you for that love mark, why can you not forgive yourself?'"

"Your father's answer was, 'I would rather die than hurt you...' I took his hand and said, 'I believe all that is lacking here is... the proper instruction.' I went on to show my husband how better to touch me in love. After that, he never hurt me again in the slightest... So, you see, Andrew, your father is not perfect."

Andrew seemed amazed by this revelation. When I returned home I was amazed at Gilbert's contrition. The very next day we went to town and my husband begged for my son's forgiveness. Gilbert and Andrew reconciled on the spot. Then Gilbert finally gave his blessing to Andrew's engagement.

In his typical lavish style, my darling got on bended knee and welcomed our son's fiancée, Edwina, into the family. The two of them returned to being the best of friends. Gilbert even promised to help Andrew rebuild the old farm.

Once Gilbert started helping Andrew to rebuild my family's old farm, he gave himself to the task whole-heartedly. Since I was needed at the castle, Gilbert and I saw very little of one another during that time. So, I was determined to make the best possible use of the time we could share together by bathing.

Saxon or Norman, most people usually bathed once a year... whether they needed it or not! At the castle, Gilbert and I were thought to be odd for bathing frequently... each week in summer and as often as the cold permitted in winter.

Bathing was a real chore because extra water had to be gathered, lugged, and poured into a tub... and then it had to be hauled away and disposed of afterwards. Fortunately, we had faithful servants who made that possible.

Our servants thought I was crazy one day when I heated up our bath even though it was quite warm for autumn. My husband was a bit skeptical... until he got into the tub... and was exposed to the sensual delights of warm bathing.

My husband was sore from a hard day at building. The warm water relaxed his aching muscles. Then I massaged them to help loosen them up.

Even though, Gilbert was moaning about his sore muscles, I asked him, "Are you enjoying rebuilding the old farm, my dear?" He laughed and said "Yes."

He continued, "If it helps, I am enjoying your massage even more than the warm bath. My dear wife, you never fail to surprise and delight me..."

All it took was one time and, much to the servants' dismay, the water was always heated after that! I had really created a monster because he would NOT have a cold bath again - ever! Since warm bathing aroused Gilbert, it did make the sex that much better afterwards. So, I learned to live with it!

Just as his relationship with Andrew was dramatically improving, Gilbert's usually harmonious relationship with Angelique was worsening.

We loved both our children dearly... but my husband felt especially close to our daughter. Poor sweet Angelique looked even more Norman than Gilbert did... and that caused her many problems growing up.

Even though her twin brother did his best to protect her, for much of her early life, she had been teased, taunted, and, in general, treated rather poorly by the Saxon townsfolk. To make up for it, my husband was overly protective of her... and he felt the cruelties Angelique endured more than she did herself.

Yet the greatest cruelty I foresaw was she would have difficulty in finding a mate. So, when a travelling merchant came to the castle, Angelique became infatuated with him. Once Gilbert noticed this, he had the man forcibly removed from the castle. Angelique was heartbroken and I was furious with him.

That day we were scheduled to go into the warm bath. Since the servants had gone to all the time and trouble to heat the bath... and since I felt rather grimy and uncomfortable, I got in the tub BUT facing away from where he would enter.

I could feel the water move as Gilbert moved in behind me. Usually I faced him: so, he asked in a plaintive voice, "What did I do this time?" I told him... for a half hour... by which time the water had grown cold!

During my angry lecture, he used the time to bathe both of us in the warm water. As he glided his hands over my body, it really became harder and harder to sustain my "righteous" anger over his treatment of the travelling merchant.

When we got out of the bath, my anger was spent. The next day, Gilbert made it up to me (again upsetting the servants) by having another warm bath ready. This time we faced one another and bathed together in perfect harmony!

The day for Andrew's wedding had finally arrived. Edwina's family had agreed to allow their daughter to be wed inside the castle church. Although we had opened the castle to the Saxons for this event, very few came. Our entire close knit Norman community turned up for the wedding.

The wedding at the castle church was possible mainly because Gilbert and Edwina's father had become friends over time. They had many interests in common - besides their children - that bonded them. Yet they were not close friends since they were on opposite sides of the Saxon-Norman divide.

Edwina's father seemed pleased when Andrew said that he wanted Gilbert to be his best man. Gilbert was pleased when Edwina made Angelique her maid of honor. Everyone was truly merry about the wedding, except for Angelique.

Ever since Andrew had moved into the old farm, she had missed him terribly. While they were rebuilding the farm, Gilbert would not let her or Edwina on the site. It was for their own safety as he explained it to me. Funny, how he never stopped me from participating in construction projects for my safety.

Since Gilbert needed to repair his relationship with Andrew I did not object. Instead, I invited Edwina and Angelique to help me sew a fine tapestry for their new home while the work went on at the old farm.

Although Angelique was grateful for Edwina's friendship, she had started to miss her brother terribly once it was clear he would only infrequently visit the castle from then on. Even though she was full of smiles at Andrew's wedding, I noticed the sadness in her eyes. Angelique would no longer have her brother and her best friend by her side now that Andrew had finally married Edwina.

As soon as she finished her meal, Angelique slipped away from the reception feast. So, when Gilbert, Andrew, and Edwina's father became engaged in a spirited conversation, I went after her because I knew where she would be.

My poor girl lay sobbing on her bed. I sat down beside her and rubbed her back. This had always calmed her when she was a little girl and it did so now.

"Andrew told me how you wished him great happiness. Edwina told me that she had not only gained a husband but a sister as well. I am sure that they will soon be missing you, my dear. Not to mention your poor father..."

All Angelique could say was, "I can't, mother..." She put her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder as she wept some more.

I asked, "My dearest girl, please tell me that this is not about that merchant. Although I disagree with what your father did, I agreed with him that he was not right for you. I do not believe that man would have made you happy."

Angelique shook her head. I knew that her only interest in that man was that he had been available. None of the Saxons would have her. Due to the plague, Angelique lost a dear friend who she might have married one day. All the other Norman men were now too old, too young, or promised to someone else.

So, I asked Angelique the question I had been dreading to ask. "My dearest girl, I am willing to admit when I have been wrong. If it is truly your desire to enter holy orders, then your father and I will not stand in your way..."

Angelique said, "No, mother. I do not wish for that any longer. I never really did. I could not bear to never see you, father, or Andrew again."

Her body shook as she admitted, "I want to be as happy in marriage as you and father are. Yet there is no one for me... so I might as well be in the convent."

Her truth being told, Angelique melted into tears. I cradled her in my arms and said, "We, none of us, know God's plan for us. When I was as old as you are now, I had thought I would marry another. Then God sent your father to me."

"So, there is time yet for you to be married. You must remember that Andrew is still full young. They only wed because he found his sweetheart quite early in his life. I think you shall be like your parents and take longer to be married."

This comforted her. When she was calmer, I set about making Angelique once more presentable. I had just finished when Gilbert rushed into her bedchamber. I knew that it would only be a matter of time until he found us.

"What is the matter?" he demanded. Angelique answered him by rising from her dressing table and giving him a big hug. She reassured him, "All is well now, father. If it would please you, I will return to the wedding feast."

Then I insisted that Gilbert honor Angelique with a dance once we returned to the reception hall. She was all smiles as she and her father danced around the hall. Then Andrew asked for a turn with his sister - and after she gained Edwina's permission - brother and sister took a turn around the floor.

As I watched them dance, Gilbert sat down beside me and slipped his hand in mine. I told him about my conversation with Angelique. He was sad until I remarked, "God brought us together. He will not fail our daughter. I pray every day that Angelique will find the man that is meant for her..."

With that, Gilbert insisted that it was now our turn to dance in celebration of our son's wedding. So, I took his hand and we danced as merrily as if this had been our wedding day. Life was good and I thanked God for all His blessings.

A month later our son had moved the last of his possessions out of the castle. He and his wife were now living in the house his father helped him build on our old family farm. It was hard on all of us as we had lived together as a happy family ever since the twins were born... which seemed like a lifetime ago.

Later that night, I was missing Andrew terribly and I could not hide it. Knowing me all too well, Gilbert asked, "What is the matter, my dearest? Something is amiss and I will not let you sleep until we speak of it..."

I started to answer him but I burst into tears instead. It took a while but my husband finally got it out of me. Gilbert said, "Oh my dearest, Sauran, you are thinking of this the wrong way around... for once..."

"By helping Andrew into his new home, we are giving our son a precious gift. We are allowing him to know the joy we have shared in pleasuring one another... as husband and wife. Andrew confided in me that living in the castle had made him feel embarrassed to be a true husband to his wife."

I nodded. Intellectually, I knew that Gilbert was right... but emotionally I still wished my son and his wife back living at the castle. My husband knew me well enough to know my thoughts without my having to say them.

He caressed the edge of my ear with his tongue and said softly, "Let me remind you what a great gift a wife is to a husband who loves her with all his heart... as I do you. Let me pleasure you again in the way you like best..."

My darling did not give me a moment to reply. He used every loving weapon in his passionate arsenal to fill my body with so much sexual desire that... I could think of nothing else! It was so overwhelming that I passed out and drifted into a deep and refreshing sleep... that comes only from such intense bliss.

Once our daughter had really started blossoming into a woman, I sent for books from all over Europe to be brought to the castle. I wanted our castle to have a great library full of many books as just like many other castles in France.

My husband was not as bookish as I since his university had been the sword. Except for our son, who was now doing legal work for the castle, he despised men whose sole occupation was "useless book learning".

So, I dared not tell them... that my plan was to use the library to find a husband for Angelique. Like her brother and I, my daughter had developed a test for reading. Once Andrew had left the castle, Angelique spent more and more time in the library, helping me to manage my growing collection of books.

Whenever my husband grumbled at the cost of bringing new books into the library, I would overcome his doubts by making love in closets, corridors, or other unusual places. I think, at times, he only complained about them just to get some extra sexual attention from me... I did not mind at all.

This blinded Gilbert to my real purpose in having scholars bring books to the house. Surely he would not approve of a "bookish" man as a suitable mate for our daughter had I decided to reveal my plans to him.

One day a young man arrived bearing a rare book I had bought through agents abroad. He insisted on personally escorting it safely to England.

From the moment Angelique and he laid eyes on one another, I knew he was the one for her. So, despite my husband's strong protests, I hired that scholar to stay on to organize and catalog my vast book collection.

My daughter volunteered to help him out. They spent many hours together in the library. At first, he confined himself to just teaching her what she needed to know to be his assistant. Then they started discussing the books.

One day I caught them kissing behind the stacks of books... and I knew it would be a matter of time before he would ask her and she would accept him.

All this time her father still thought of our daughter as just his little girl. Even though Angelique was full figured and almost the same age as when we married, to Gilbert, she was still an innocent child needing his protection.

My husband got a rude awakening when he caught the scholar and our daughter laying together outside in the tall grass. They were kissing innocently but my husband became enraged. He pulled the poor boy off my daughter.

Gilbert threw the young man bodily into a nearby stream. Then he pushed the boy's head underwater and might have killed him but for the fact that I heard them fighting. So, I tackled my husband, knocking us both into the water.

The poor boy was gasping for breath as he stumbled away from us. I ordered the shaking scholar to go to the kitchen so his clothes could be dried... and I sent my weeping daughter to her room as I held her father down.

My husband was still furious as he lifted me off his body. Fortunately, my light summer gown clung to my wet breasts... and this distracted him from his anger.

He pulled me out of the water and laid me in the tall grass. I kissed him and said, "Whether you like it or not, our daughter will soon be a grown woman. She will need to take a husband... and she wants one. Be reasonable..."

My husband slid my gown off my shoulder and he covered my exposed breast with kisses. He knew that I was about to lecture him... so he decided to enjoy it.

I continued, "I have spent enough time with Henri..." Gilbert looked me in the eye as I explained, "That is the scholar's name... Henri. I am sure if he had been one of your men, you would have learned his name by now."

Gilbert just grunted and went back to kissing my breast. Sometimes - like at moments like these - my husband truly infuriated me.

I pressed on. "You might have noticed that our daughter was fully clothed..." He replied angrily, "Angelique will have to be examined."

I shook my head. "Why not just openly declare to our daughter that you do not trust her? I swear if you insist on that you will break her heart..."

I let my anger get the better of me. "Don't you understand, Gilbert? Angelique reveres you as if you were her lord and savior! She will let her heart be broken and say goodbye to a potential mate rather than go against your wishes..."

Rather subdued, Gilbert uncovered my other breast and remarked, "It is not our sweet daughter I do not trust, it is that... beast I do not trust. As you see," he continued, fondling my breast into hardness, "men are truly beasts!"

I sighed, half from enjoying his sexual attentions and half from frustration at his stubbornness. "He loves her, my dearest. He is very kind to her. He is very patient. I know that he would take very good care of her..."

My husband started stroking me between the legs. Gilbert admitted, "I would like to have our daughter find a real man... one who can love and pleasure her like this..." I could not speak again until after he had stroked me into orgasm.

When I recovered, I continued, "And did you not tell me that you learned such things in a book?" By now, my husband was fully aroused and he thrust into me vigorously until we both climaxed together.

When he was recovered, he declared, "I would like our daughter to know this kind of joy. For that she needs a real man... not some book worm! She needs a soldier... a big, strong man who can protect her no matter what..."

I made sure to wrap my arms around Gilbert as I remarked, "When I saw him kissing her, it seemed to me that Henri was acting like a real man... and that Angelique was being pleasured like a real woman!"

He exploded. "Do you mean to tell me that this was not the first time? You mean that you allowed that... beast... to kiss our Angelique before now?"

I thought it best not to admit that they had been kissing for at least two months by then. Angelique and Henri had been so happy together that I wanted to hide their budding romance from Gilbert. I had never seen our daughter smile so much... not even when her brother Andrew had been present.

I smiled, "Yes I allowed them to kiss and to caress... There was certainly no harm in it. From what I observed, Henri was more gentle and respectful of Angelique... then you were of me at first... or just now!"

Gilbert was shaking with anger as he asked, "How could you... betray me that way? How could you let this go on, Sauran? What were you thinking?"

I caressed his cheek and looked deeply into his eyes. "My dearest Gilbert, we want the same thing: our dear daughter's happiness for the rest of her life."

I sighed. "My dear, be practical. Daughter of the lord of the castle or not, no Saxon will have her... she looks too Norman. All the eligible Normans in the castle are now pledged to others. Besides Angelique and Henri truly do care for one another. I am completely convinced about that..."

"As much as you may believe otherwise, you shall not live forever... and we owe it to Angelique to leave her in safe hands. Truth be told, she is her father's daughter... Angelique pursued Henri... and he had to be won over..."

Gilbert pursed his lips and asked bitterly, "So the beast thought he was too good for her, did he?" I shook my head. "The real problem is you think that no one is good enough for your children." He corrected, "Our children..."

I kissed him and said, "Think back to all your objections to our son's marriage. Was I not proved right by their current happiness that they were a good match? I was waiting to tell you this, my dearest, but our daughter-in-law believes she is with child. Please act surprised when Andrew tells you this tomorrow."

My husband wrapped his arms around me and cried, "Praise God!" I pressed my lips to his ear and said, "Do not deny our daughter the same happiness!"

I continued, "I overheard them talking... why they have kept their love a secret... is that he does not believe he is good enough for our daughter... is that she fears breaking your heart. Please, Gilbert, do not set yourself against them."

"You still see Angelique as a little girl... but she is a grown woman. She is the same age as I was when we met. I sincerely believe that this young man cares for her. If you care for our dear Angelique, you will let her follow her heart..."

Gilbert kissed me passionately and then said, "I can scarce imagine what my life would have been like... if I had not followed my heart... if I had not snatched you away from that... peasant!" (My husband never got over his hatred of his brother-in-law, my former fiancé, even after he had long departed from town.)

Gilbert sighed. "I do love our daughter... and I do want what is best for her. Are you sure that this young man truly cares for Angelique?"

I smiled. "Why don't you ask them?" And so he did. Henri and Angelique were so grateful that Gilbert had asked them. Their gratitude and their devotion to one another soon impressed him... and so he agreed to their engagement.

It took a while but my husband became reconciled to the idea of his daughter's marrying. In time, he came to accept her intended... grudgingly. "Henri cannot shoot... he rides a horse poorly... and he is hopeless with a sword but he does love our daughter" was my darling's consistent comment about the scholar.

What finally won Gilbert over was the couple's agreement to reside in a house that he would build for them on the castle estate (which he took more than a year to build). He had never quite forgiven our son for living on my old farm.

Yet part of Gilbert's unhappiness had nothing to do with the scholar courting our daughter. After he suffered from the plague for the second time, my husband experienced bouts when he could not pleasure me sexually.

Before that, Gilbert was not able to perform at his peak only if he were quite ill, nervous, or stressed. Now there were times when his will was strong but his body could not perform. I hoped that all would be well once our daughter wed.

Henri, the scholar, had given my husband a book at New Years. It was all very secretive: neither our daughter's intended nor my husband would say what it contained. My daughter and I teased them about it... but their bond of secrecy would not be broken. Then time passed and we both forgot about it.

What became worrying, as the wedding day approached, is that my husband started spending time at my dressing table in front of my mirror. He was always one who was careful of his personal appearance... but now he seemed to be obsessed by it. I could only attribute this to Henri's new influence on him.

Yet each time I came near enough to see what Gilbert was doing in front of the mirror... he would abruptly stop, rise, and give me a kiss.

I liked the kisses but I could not help but wonder at this strange behavior. At last, my curiosity got the better of me and I asked him why he had developed a new habit of lingering at my dressing table. All he ever said was, "You'll see!"

One the day of Angelique's wedding, for the third time in our marriage, Gilbert permitted himself the rare luxury of deep tears. We lay in bed and his violent sobs shook the bed as I held him. I had arranged a later than usual wedding because I knew he needed time to grieve the "loss" of his little girl.

While Gilbert could accept that Andrew's marriage (and now the birth of his first child) made his son a man, he found it hard to accept that Angelique was now a woman. He still felt as if she were the little girl who he could pick up and twirl and make laugh. It was hard for him to conceive of her as a grown woman.

Yet I managed to pull us both together and the wedding went off... flawlessly.

After the reception, my husband insisted on us accompanying newly wedded couple to their new home. He took Angelique and Henri by the hand.

Gilbert said in a hoarse voice, "I hope and pray that you both will be as happy as your mother and I have been for all these years. I can barely remember what my life was like before I found your dearest mother... nor do I have any wish to remember. For my life did not truly begin until she loved me..."

Now I was the teary eyed one. Gilbert looked at me and said, "She brought sweetness, gentleness, and love into my life. I cannot imagine a day without her in it... Truly my wife is my very life, my very heart, and my very soul."

"Even if every word I ever spoke was to say how much I love your mother... it would not express all the love that is in my heart for her. My sole wish for you both is that when you reach my age, you still feel this way about one another..."

My husband and I embraced... and the newly married couple was moved to tears. I could not speak... all I could do was to shower Gilbert with kisses.

At long last, Gilbert and I were alone in our bedchamber. He sat on the bed, half undressed, staring at the floor. I knew that he was thinking about how Angelique was faring on her wedding night. I wished to comfort him.

I said, "I am fairly certain, my dearest, that neither of them waited until tonight to consummate their love..." His jaw dropped open. "How do you know that?"

I had not the heart to tell Gilbert that I chanced up Angelique and Henri in her room while he was out on a hunting party. It was clear what they were intending to do... and since it was so close to their wedding day I did not stop them.

I stood next to Gilbert, ran my fingers through his hair, and said, "A mother knows..." was all I could bring myself to admit to him. My husband turned, reached around me, and started to unlace my skirt.

Gilbert said, "I knew I would need to take my mind off... things... tonight... so I have something planned... Don't move..." He unceremoniously stripped off my skirts and thrust his head under my long undergarment.

Now I understood what he had been doing in front of my mirror. He had been building up the strength and the dexterity of his tongue. It was then I felt how muscular and powerful his new "weapon of love" had become.

He thrust it across my female pearl bringing me to a quick and explosive climax... which knocked my legs out from under me. Luckily, I fell safely back onto the softness of the bed in a deeply satisfied orgasmic heap.

All I could say was, "You are magnificent, Gilbert. Just when I think you cannot pleasure me any better, you find a way." Then he confessed that he learned that technique in the book that Henri had given him for New Year's.

Soon his tongue went quickly back to work... bringing me to orgasm three more times... before my darling husband took his pleasure. After more than twenty five years of marriage experiencing something new sexually was magnificent!

Now that our children were settled into their new lives, Gilbert and I had begun to experience a new level of contentment. I found myself thinking back on all that had happened in our lives together.

No place held more warm and loving memories than our bedchamber. The room that had started out as my prison became my paradise. Everywhere I looked there was something to remind of my happy life with Gilbert.

Like my beloved's ugly China pot which was reconstructed and installed over the fireplace... which showed my sincere repentance over a fit of anger.

Like the circlet of ribbons and flowers that my mother had made for my second wedding... which signaled the start of our reconciliation with her.

Like the two really ugly clay pots on the mantle of the fireplace made by our children when young... which they did out of love for us.

Like the swords from Gilbert's various battles that I had arranged in a decorative pattern on one wall... which reminded him of his youthful victories in war.

Like my collection of rare and special rocks and gemstones which he did not like but... for which he built a special cabinet to keep them safe.

Of course, there was our bed which was built and rebuilt many times. In its final form, our lovely bed was wide enough for four people (he liked to move around during lovemaking). It was long enough for his dogs to sleep at the end of it without our feet touching them (for the few times that I ever allowed this).

It had four posters holding up a "roof" and four "walls" of the finest red-gold damask from France. In winter, it kept us warm... at all other times, it gave us total privacy from children or servants whenever we needed it.

For a rough soldier, my husband loved his comforts. We had a mattress and many pillows full of chopped bird feathers... which he had changed every year.

Each month, he had servants fill our mattress with dried flowers from the castle so that it was always sweet smelling. Our bed was covered with the finest linens and blankets that Gilbert had imported from France.

He built in fireproof drawers into the bed which could hold pans of smoldering coals... that kept us both warm and toasty in the depth of winter. It was the most comfortable bed... I believe that our bed was fit even for royalty.

On the floor were soft furs of the animals he had hunted... except around my dressing table. Under that table was a very fine oriental rug... that he paid a fortune for to a traveling merchant (without first consulting me).

It was a rug that would last a lifetime, Gilbert had said, and he was right. I loved and enjoyed that sturdy rug for all the years of our married life.

Over that dressing table was the finest mirror that money could buy. You could see yourself in it... but not very clearly. That mirror always made me smile.

Every time I would look in the mirror Gilbert would say something like, "You do not need to consult the mirror: you are as beautiful as ever!" Of course, to see a true likeness of myself all I had to do was look into the stream nearby to see my reflection. Still I always craved and cherished my husband's kind words.

I would return the compliment and usually add mischievously, "You certainly look at that mirror a lot for a man!" Gilbert would just laugh and give me a kiss... sometimes he would try and muss up my hair as a punishment.

At the foot of the bed was his battered old war chest. Everything else in the room was new... but Gilbert would not part with that old thing. It housed all his battle armor... which usually only saw the light of day when our son insisted that his father wear it... and then later when Andrew tried it on himself.

On the chest, were vases full of fresh flowers when in season... and dried flowers when the season was past (Gilbert wanted the flowers, not me!).

By my side of the bed was a large nightstand... again specially built by him. It housed oils, candles, lamps, writing supplies, the current book I was reading... plus a lockable compartment full of the sex books I owned in case HE wanted to refer to them whilst we were making love.

On his side, there was a smaller matching nightstand with various sex toys he had collected over the years... protected by a lockable compartment.

One time, Gilbert had left his drawer open by accident. So, I peeked inside and saw it contained all my letters to him. On the top of the pile was the letter I had written to him in French about my decision to tend to my mother when she had the pox. It was tear stained and rubbed through in some spots.

I kissed that letter and put it back into his secret drawer. I was touched that Gilbert kept all my letters and that he stored them in such a special place.

Of course, all his letters to me were kept beside the sex books. I read them often when he was away. They were a lifeline to me when he was away at war. I only took them out again when he was on a hunting party.

After we had fallen in love... I felt a huge wave of peace and contentment wash over me every time from the moment I walked into our bedchamber. Over the years, whenever I was stressed or upset or needed to think, I would go to this room for a few moments... just to regain my calmness and composure.

After a while, my husband noticed my strange pattern of visiting our bedroom at odd hours of the day. One time he followed me and entered very quietly to find me there alone. So, Gilbert asked me what I was doing there,

I turned to him and said, "I just needed some happiness. Where better to find joy than in the room of our love?" He ran to me, took me up in his arms, and twirled me around. I did not need Gilbert to tell me that he felt the same way.

I had gone to lay flowers on my mother's grave. We had moved it from the Saxon grave-yard after some threatened to dig up and scatter the bones of the "mother of the whore of the Norman castle." We had reburied her bones beside Stephane’s memorial. I hope she understood why we had to do this.

The castle grave-yard was now secured by a wall so I could go there in perfect safety by myself. I had fallen into the habit of speaking to them both as if they were still alive. There was much happy news to share with them.

Both Angelique and Edwina had gotten with child at the same time. Gilbert could not have been happier. I was happy as well and yet...

I said, "How I wish you were here, mother. I am great need of your advice. I have been so tired lately. It has been unusually cold... but I fear that something else ails me. I keep having to stop to catch my breath. I feel my heart beating in my chest in an odd way. I have tried the herbs to strengthen my heart..."

"Yet I feel no better. I fear to tell Gilbert about any of this. It will just make him worry. So, I ask you to watch over me from Heaven. Send me the strength and wisdom to help me overcome my present state of weakness."

"Mother, I am not ready to leave my precious family. I want to be there for both Angelique and Edwina when their time comes. I want to help them as you helped me. I want to see the smile on Gilbert's face when they arrive."

"Please intercede for me with the Holy Mother by helping my children have children of their own... we are both helping Her bring more life into the world."

I could hear someone approaching so I brushed the tears from my face. It was Gilbert. "Have you told Stephane our happy news? And your mother?"

I nodded and smiled at him. He declared, "We will be late for the mid-day meal if we do not hurry." He picked up me and he ran back to the castle.

My dear husband had a favorite saying, "Live each day as if it will be your last... for someday it will be." Ironically, this was more of a Saxon than a Norman attitude. Yet Gilbert insisted that it was solely his late uncle's idea.

I awoke to my husband's lips and hands all over me. It only took me a split second to respond to his sexual invitation. Our lovemaking was passionate and joyful. We were both so carried away that we ignored the knocking of the servant at the door... and we climaxed twice in a row.

It was like we were young again. When I could finally speak, I said, "I should have persuaded our son to move back onto the castle estates years ago!"

He replied in a sex slurred voice, "I am an utterly happy man! All my dear family under one roof at long last! Thank God, Andrew has finally come to his senses. Our life together is just so perfect now! I could not ask for anything more!"

I laughed, "You could ask, my love, but I doubt I could... go one for more time!" He smiled, "Then maybe you could do something else for me!"

My husband reached into his nightstand and pulled out a cap. It was a headband attached to a long tube of cloth... under which my long hair could swing freely. I liked my hair braided and tightly controlled when I worked.

I had often refused to wear such headgear in the past. Yet today, I was so joyful from our lovemaking that I agreed. It ended up just as I knew it would... he kept playing with the hair that poked out of the bottom of the cap all day!

Yet toward the end of that day, I felt my heart pounding inside my chest. I begged to retire early. Gilbert was so happy to help Andrew move back in that he did not object or question my decision to go to sleep early that night.

For some time now, my duties at the castle had been getting lighter. Andrew had really moved back in... out of concern for me... as well as to give both his aged parents a break. Andrew and Henri, our daughter's husband, ran the castle now. I had taught them everything they knew and they did a good job.

Even though Gilbert and I had loved like teenagers that very morning... we were both showing signs of our advancing age. Today, I was feeling very tired so I chose - as I seldom did - to keep to my bed that day.

Gilbert had asked to stay with me but I insisted this was but a passing illness that would be improved with some additional rest. So - rather reluctantly - he agreed to make a short inspection of the fields while I took my ease.

When my dear daughter brought me luncheon in bed... I told her how much I loved her and how much joy she had given me in my life. Angelique wept, we hugged, and I told her to find her brother and bring him to see me.

Once Andrew arrived, I went through the same process with my dear son. Afterwards, he demanded to know why I had done this.

So, I gave him first answer that came to mind. "In three days time, it will be the Saxon 'Day of the Dead'... I was thinking this morning that it was better for me to tell the living how I felt about them... rather than the dead who can no longer hear my words. That is why I had to tell you both what I felt."

My son hugged and kissed me... and then my daughter. They left me alone because I said that I wanted some time to write in this diary.

I knew that my husband would missing me. The older we got, the more often Gilbert needed to see me throughout the day. I knew that it would only be a matter of time before our children told their father about what had happened.

So, I am writing these words down... so that when dearest Gilbert visits our bedchamber... I will be able to tell him all that is in my heart.... And so...

"I love you, my dearest. Gilbert. I often think back to that day when you saved me from my folly of wanting a loveless marriage. I just did not know what love was when I stepped out to be joined to a man that I could never love."

"You had to teach me above true love... about what cannot be learned in book... what can only be learned from living and loving every day in perfect joy and harmony. I may be accounted the more learned among us... but you were always the wisest... especially in the ways of love."

"Were I to give you tribute, as if you were a Saxon, as if this were the 'Day of the Dead', I would say that my dearest husband, was the best man I had ever known... a Norman who was better than any Saxon man could ever be..."

"Before my dearest Gilbert came into my life, I lived in perpetual darkness... knowing only tiny drops of the light of love from my mother... and even then from her only when she did not fear being beaten by her husband."

"I was an all too visible reminder of her love for my real father, our Saxon Lord. Our lord was very kind to me... but I saw him little... and then he was gone."

"Into my life came Gilbert de la Mare... the very sun of compassion, love, and light. At first, I was too blinded by hate and sorrow to recognize his true brilliance. From the beginning, he was honorable, reasonable, decent, just, and kind to all whom God had given him mastery over... even me."

"I deeply regret letting honor, pride, and self righteousness keep me from seeing that for such a long time. I came to love Gilbert in spite of myself. Indeed, I know that I loved him for quite a while before I could even admit it..."

"I think what caught my attention and then what caused love to flicker and then burst into flame... was how Gilbert was always trying to make things better for everyone... not just better for himself. His overwhelming generosity is what I really admired about him... it was what made me fall deeply and passionately in love with him... despite my pride and my prejudice against him."

"And once I did love Gilbert... all the darkness in my life fell away. It did not take me long to grow used to the warmth, the constancy, and the depth of his precious love. Now I have grown completely and utterly dependent upon it... and glad to be so. Gilbert is truly the flesh of my flesh."

"Our deep, abiding love for one another has kept us alive and in health longer than all those we knew in our youth who are now gone. It is pure magic and joy for which I am daily grateful. Each day I thank God for the infinite blessing of my husband in my life and I praise his wisdom in bringing us together."

"Gilbert, our life together is so perfect that there is no more to be asked for from God. God has indeed blessed us richly and deeply in one another. As long as we are together, there is nothing to fear, nothing to need, nothing to envy."

"I wish for our children and their spouses the perfect joy and harmony that we share now. Wherever you go, I shall never be far from you though we be parted... by duty, by distance, and even by death itself. You will live inside my heart, now and forever, world without end, my dearest Gilbert."

"The only thing I regret in this life is the time that I wasted hating you... that I could have spent loving you instead... You have loved me so perfectly that I will not hear you at all criticized, not even by yourself, my love."

"It matters not to me how we started... only that we ended in this place of perfect contentment and love. It is this perfect place of harmony that I wish to live in forever... with you, my dear husband and my dearest love..."

These were the last words that my mother Sauran ever wrote. That day both Andrew and I knew that suddenly something was terribly wrong with her. So we immediately went and fetched our father. We brought him to their bedchamber.

My mother had rested her finger on her last entry in this diary. She insisted that our father read the entire passage to us out loud.

The last thing she saw was him reading her words. When my father turned to look back at my mother... he knew at once that she was dead. Her last movement had been to touch her wedding ring. My father was heartbroken.

For the first and only time, my father attended the Saxon "Day of the Dead" ritual three days later. There he spoke about my mother... for so long that the others had to move elsewhere to have time for their own remembrances.

I did not want to leave father alone that night but Andrew insisted. The next day we found our father resting on top of my mother's newly dug grave. He had died... of a broken heart. A sad smile was frozen on his face.

I could not help but remember my father's last words. "It is best to live each day as if it is your last... and to enjoy all the love around you while you can." My parents showed us all that there is no greater joy to be found in this life than to live in perfect harmony with a beloved mate.