Page 166 of The Daughters of Avalon
He was envious of those gentle smiles she gifted him, and the patience she bestowed, when all she had for him was querulousness.
Wilhelm only longed for some small acknowledgment for all he’d endured on her behalf—not to mention all the silver he’d spent. He’d fully anticipated having to spend good coin for horses for both Pendragon sisters. He hadn’t felt it appropriate to bring mounts, because they would have slowed him down, but he’d brought along plenty of coin to buy each sister a healthy mount. But the truth of the matter was that he didn’t enjoy putting out so many shillings for a horse only to serve a horny boy who, even in his grief, couldn’t keep his eyes off Lady Seren’s bosom.
And by the by, Jack hadn’t bothered to thank him either, and some part of him longed to chide them both, but he felt like a sorehead, because their grief was entirely too fresh.
How else should he expect them to behave?
How dare he lament feeling unworthy when she had so recently suffered such a devastating loss—so had the boy, for that matter. But for all Wilhelm’s own demons, he was poorly equipped to comfort them, when even now the lingering scent of smoke made him long for a dark corner in which to sob like a wee girl.
God’s truth, his eyes burned even now, so far from the city, and he could no longer blame it on the reek of smoke. He was a man full grown, bigger than most, and he felt like a child, longing for the solace of his mother’s embrace. Some called him the Hammer of Warkworth, and he had scars aplenty to show for his trials—the most hideous of all delivered by Seren’s own mother.
Wilhelm was no blubbering boy, but, of late, his emotions had bubbled to the surface, and he loathed the weakness in himself and begrudged Seren her mettle, because it made him feel so much less a man.
If, only once, she would cast herself at his feet to weep, if only he could lift her up and smooth a hand o’er the silk of her hair and whisper, “There, there,” maybe then he could feel like a man worth his weight.
But nay, he was left wanting by a pretty, little boy—a skinny child who could read, while he could not.
And, in the end, he had no right to any of these feelings. It was a bitter pill to swallow knowing he could not rise to the occasion and be a better man.
He wanted to be a better man—shemade him long to be a better man—but he simply wasn’t. He was baseborn—a babe born in the rushes to a mother who was never even tended by a midwife. She spat him out and returned to her duties, and as much as she had been enjoyed by his sire, and perhaps even loved by him, she, like Wilhelm, was never worthy enough tocarry de Vere’s name. He was Wilhelm Fitz Richard, no more, no less—bastard son of a dead lord.
And here was the worst of it: Once upon a time, he’d loved a girl who was too highborn to love him in return, and never once did Ayleth of Bamburgh admire him, not even after his brother left for the seminary—not even after Wilhelm gifted her that beautiful cross she’d worn about her neck, a cross that cost Wilhelm five years’ worth of his earnings.
For years, he’d loved Lady Ayleth from afar, but what scared him now was this: So much as he’d fancied himself in love with that lady, it was naught at all compared to the attraction he felt for Lady Seren.
Wilhelm didn’twantto want her. He knew in his heart of hearts that it was a sin to consider such a union. He was unworthy of even her lowest glance… and still, despite the grim occasion, he was blue in the balls and hard-pressed to keep his mind on the task he’d been given.
How in God’s name was he going to help anyone if he couldn’t think beyond the haze of lust she invoked in him… with nothing so much as a glance.
Wilhelm was furious at himself for his weakness to her. She was a bloody enchantress, and if he didn’t know better, he would think she’d cast a spell on him.
But nay, because long before Seren Pendragon ever deigned to acknowledge him, he was already bound to do her will. She needn’ttryto sway him, and what was more, he had every sense that this woman he was traveling with hadn’t the first inkling of her power over men. How Giles ever walked away from her he didn’t know.
And, aye, while it was so close to the surface, it was time to confess the bitter truth: From the very day he’d set eyes on her—that day in the King’s Hall—he’d been grateful she wasnot meant for him, because he, himself, would have forsaken everything he ever held true only to lie with her once.
So there you have it; that, above all, was the crux of his problem: He didn’t want to want anything so much that he was in danger of betraying his honor or his oaths—including the oath he’d sworn to himself.To see Morwen pay for the death of his kin.
It didn’t matter much that he knew there was no love lost betwixt that witch and her daughters. Inevitably, they shared the same blood. Seren was a witch, as well, and there, too, he suffered a bucketful of ambivalence, because so was Rosalynde, and a finer lady than Rose Wilhelm had never met.
Mulling it all over, he rode in silence, wondering how the hell they were going to get around London without being discovered. Seren could cast herself aglamour, but she likely couldn’t mask them all. And, even if she could, how in the hell was she going to do aught with hermagikwhilst in the company of that annoying boy?
No, he mustn’t be jealous of a child, he decided. It couldn’t be that. He simply resented being saddled with another mouth to feed, and keeping the two of them safe could prove to be an impossible feat.
Alas, deep down… he knew… he was jealous, and jealousy did not become him.
Chapter
Ten
Rhiannon sensed they were coming before they arrived—a crackle of energy in theaether. She awoke, shivering away the stupor of slumber and sat on the bed, throwing her legs over the edge to wait…
It was still dark out. The fire in her brazier burned low.
She shivered again, this time not because she was cold. Much as she loathed to confess it, some small part of her thrilled over the fact that Cael d’Lucy was returning so soon, but the new Lord of Blackwood was not amidst his guards when they arrived.
Coward.
So, then, he meant to avoid her after their latest discourse?
