Guy And Marian Retold

Temptation

The loud noise that woke me was his stomach suddenly growling almost as loudly as mine had, which elicited a giggle from me. He pretended to scowl and muttered something about having to keep his strength up and got back up, padding over to the table and bringing the tray back to the bed this time. He didn't bother to put any clothes on and I watched him, enjoying the way his muscles worked under his skin as he moved. I didn't think I'd ever grow tired of looking at him. He gave me a knowing smile as he caught my expression, and I blushed. As he ate, we made small talk, and I worked up my courage to request yet more information. If he was in a talkative mood, I was going to take advantage of it. He noticed my preoccupation and looked at me inquiringly.

"Tell me about your time in Normandy," I requested, and he sighed, closing his eyes at the memories. He set the tray on the floor and sat against the headboard, holding out his arms. I crawled into them and he settled me against his chest, where I could hear the steady beat of his heart. The heart I had almost broken. I closed my eyes momentarily at the thought, and listened to his voice as he began speaking.

Guy and Isabella had found their mother's family in Normandy, and Isabella stayed with them while he went to work as a stable boy for a wealthy friend of the family. It had gone well for about a year, until the Master's wife found her eye settled on him. She was the first lover he had mentioned to me, Florienne. She was unhappy in her marriage, which had been one of convenience to a man who, while not cruel, was indifferent to her and her needs. She took Guy into her bed, and taught him what those needs were. He believed himself in love, and was an eager student. Whether she loved him or not, he never knew, but she seemed to have a fondness for him. They carried on for almost a full year before her husband found out. He walked in on them when he decided one afternoon to come home early and bed his wife. He was furious.

He yelled at his wife that this was the last time she would do this to him because he was going to lock her in her room, not allowing her any access to anyone except her maid. He had Guy whipped mercilessly and dumped outside his lands. Guy managed to get back to his relatives, but they had already heard the news and kicked Isabella out of the house. She was able to get him to an inn, where they spent most of the little money he had on a room and a doctor. Although he fixed up Guy's wounds, they healed badly, causing the scars I had long wondered about.

During the time he was healing from his wounds he had time to think, and to realize what Florienne's husband had said to her. Guy felt like a fool -- of course he wasn't the first man she had taken into her bed. It made him realize that she had probably never had feelings for him, and had most likely just seduced him. He could never ask her, and so he could never know for sure, or find any closure. At that point he had vowed never to bed a married woman again. He paused his story here, and I wrapped my arms around him, pressing soft kisses to his neck as he sat lost in thought.

"I have never told anyone else about that," he whispered. "I didn't want anyone to know I had been such a fool."

"Thank you for telling me," I whispered back. "I don't think you were a fool, just inexperienced." He smiled ruefully and continued.

He was now sixteen; Isabella was fourteen. They traveled around Normandy, stealing food when they could and trying to find work, for two more years. Sometimes they did, but it never lasted long. Guy's temper would flare, or their employer would take an unseemly interest in Isabella; sometimes both. Guy swore that what had happened to him would never happen to her. So when an Englishman approached them about marrying Isabella, Guy thought it was the answer to their prayers. He negotiated to get passage back to England for both of them, thinking that he could try to get the Gisborne lands back...by whatever means necessary.

He realized on the voyage from Normandy to England what kind of husband Isabella had - ruthless, vindictive, and cruel.  She went from an optimistic, happy girl to a sullen, uncooperative one.  Guy regretted letting Thornton marry her, but she belonged to him as his wife.  There wasn't much he could do. I couldn't help interjecting at this point.