So Guy truly was a scholar, Leila thought as Philipwent to the cupboard and selected a thick volume.
"My brother has always had a great fondness forheroic epics. Chretien de Troyes's romance of knighthood, highlighting theadventures of Lancelot and Percival." He pointed from book to book. "TheSong of Roland, the poems of Bertrand de Born, various chronicles of history .. ." He paused, glancing at Leila as he added stiffly, "I heard muchfrom Guy last night about how learned you are. Do you read French?"
"No, I don't."
"A pity. Most of these texts are written in eitherthat language or in English. Do you—?"
"My mother taught me only to speak English, not toread or write it," Leila interrupted him quietly. "There had been noneed . . ." She went no further, swallowing uncomfortably.
"Well, I'm sure Guy would be more than happy toteach you," Philip said, returning the book to its place on the cupboard. "Asmistress ofWarenneCastle, you will need a goodcommand of our language to perform your many duties. I'm sure he will ask youto take over some of the household accounts."
What an intriguing notion, Leila thought—Guy teachingher to read and write. Then she felt a sudden rush of regret. Of course it wouldnever happen. She would probably be gone long before the first lesson couldever begin.
"What of your medical texts?" she queried,hoping a change of topic would ease her darkening mood. "Are they also inEnglish?"
She was surprised to see Philip visibly tense. "They'rein Latin."
Leila brightened. "I've studied Latin. Could Ilook at them—"
"For what purpose, my lady?" Philip cut heroff sharply. "You will certainly not need the knowledge contained in thosebooks. I am the healer here atWarenneCastle, notyou. I suggest you content yourself with your wifely duties from now on."His severe black robes fluttered as he walked in agitation to the door. "Come.I think it is time that we began our tour of the castle. Guy asked me to coveras much ground as possible so you might feel more at home in your newsurroundings. Shall we go?"
Stunned by his vehement outburst, Leila rose from thebench and followed him from the room.
So that was why Philip had been so cold toward her, shethought incredulously, waiting in the dim hallway as he locked the door andpocketed the key. He felt threatened by her knowledge of medicine! Why elsewould he have scrutinized her so strangely when they first met, as if he hadalready decided he disliked her?
"I'll show you the great hall first," he saidtersely, leading the way as they left the keep. "This vast courtyard iswhat we call the bailey . . ."
Leila scarcely heard him, her thoughts reeling.
It was very clear to her now that Philip was escortingher around the castle only because Guy had asked him to. She also suspectedthat any civility he had displayed to her yesterday had been wholly for Guy'sbenefit. She had seen that the two men were close. Philip probably did not wantto give his brother the impression that anything was amiss.
SweetJesu, how she wishedshe could tell him outright that he had nothing to fear from her! One day soonshe hoped to be gone from this place.
But she kept silent. Otherwise, Philip would surelytell Guy, and then where would that leave her?
***
A few hours later Leila longed to return to thesolitude of her bedchamber. She would never have imagined her tour could proveso taxing; she doubted she would ever remember all the minute details Philiphad told her about daily life in a castle.
She had seen countless rooms and buildings; thetimbered great hall with its cellars, pantries, buttery, and musician'sgallery; the vaulted chapel; the kitchens; the scullery; the servants'quarters; a barracks for mercenary knights; a smithy; a laundry; stables;barns; a brewery; on and on. The only respite had come when they visited thewalled garden just outside the kitchen.
She had lingered there among the barren fruit trees andlast herbs of the season, feeling bittersweet delight and longing when she spiedrose bushes in one corner from which still hung a few fragrant blooms. She hadrecognized the bright pink flowers at once.
Damask roses. Just like the ones growing in thecourtyard she had shared with her mother. Wondering how her favorite flower hadever come to be planted in this faraway garden, Leila was almost glad whenPhilip urged her to move on with him to the last site on their tour, the row ofstorehouses at the far end of the bailey.
Now she leaned with gratitude against some sacks ofgrain just inside the open door, listening with half an ear as Philip droned onabout the contents of the building.
"Our foodstuffs are stored in here, staples suchas peas and beans, onions, salted meat and fish—"
"There you are. The castle guard said I would findyou in one of these storehouses."
Both she and Philip turned in surprise to find Guysilhouetted in the low door frame, his shoulders hunched and his head down toaccommodate him.
As he stepped inside and straightened to his fullheight, Leila was overwhelmed by the sight of him. He was so massive, hisslightest movement revealed such power. She never ceased to be amazed by how hecould fill a room with his commanding presence. As his gaze raked her, she felta dizzying warmth sluice through her veins, which increased tenfold when hetook her hand in his large one. It frightened her to realize how much she hadmissed him.
Philip broke the charged silence. "You'rebackearly, Guy. Did you catch any of the culprits?"
"Unfortunately, no. We searched the woodssurrounding the village and found manyhoofprintsinthe mud, but the tracks disappeared when we came to the river," he repliedgrimly. "We'll find them, though, and they'll pay. I'll not suffer theseraids upon my land."
