To The Castle

“Aye,” Lord Raoul agreed. “Just as Stephen wants to keep it for his own son.”

Roger dipped his meat into the dish of sauce that was between him and Nell. “What do you think will happen when she does land?” he asked.

“We’ll have to wait and see how many barons go over to her side,” Lord Raoul replied.

Roger brought the piece of meat back to his trencher. “Brian fitz Count has always been one of her supporters.”

“Yes,” Lord Raoul said. “And a few men from the west may go over to support Gloucester. That’s where she’s going to find her chief support—in the west.”

Nell listened to the men talk, but the reality of what they were saying didn’t penetrate her tense self-absorption. All she could think of was what was going to happen between her and Roger when the feast was over.

“Civil war is an ugly thing,” Roger said somberly.

“We have the power to protect our own,” Lord William said.

“Yes, there will be few who will want to antagonize us, not with this alliance we have forged.” Lord Raoul sounded very satisfied.

The bishop had been largely silent while the earls spoke, but now he said, “The Bishop of Winchester is Stephen’s brother. That will help him with the church.”

The conversation continued as the meal was served: soup, roasted pork and mutton with various sauces, green beans and green leaves for a salad, all served on fresh white-bread trenchers and washed down with red wine.

Nell could barely eat. Her mother looked at Nell’s almost-full plate and started to urge her to eat more, then fell silent. Instead, she reached over and squeezed Nell’s hand, where it lay loosely in her lap. Nell turned to her mother in surprise and Lady Alice gave her an encouraging smile.

The meal was finally finished and all the men turned to look at the two women who were seated side by side.

“I believe it is time for you and your daughter to go upstairs,” Lord Raoul said to his wife.

“Yes,” Lady Alice said. She stood up. “Come along, Nell.”

Nell stood up, as well. Lady Alice took her hand in a warm, reassuring grip, and Nell followed her to the door and up the stairs to the bedroom where she had slept alone last night. Gertrude was there, waiting for her.

“You must disrobe,” Lady Alice said. “Then the bishop will come to bless your bed.”

Nell stared at her mother out of enormous dark blue eyes. “I can’t do this, Mama. Please don’t make me do this.”

“This is something that all women of your class must do,” Lady Alice said briskly. “Believe me, Nell, having a husband is far better than not having one. Every one of my ladies would give the world if they could change places with you.”

“I would change places with them happily,” Nell said despairingly.

Lady Alice’s voice sharpened. “Remember who you are, Nell. You are the daughter of the Earl of Lincoln. Don’t shame your father and me by playing the coward. You are wed to a fine young man. You should appreciate that.”

Nell was silent. It was clear that she wouldn’t get any sympathy from her mother. Her mother thought she should be happy about this wedding.

I have to do this, she thought. Please, Lord, please help me to be brave.

Lady Alice and Gertrude stripped Nell down to her chemise and her drawers. They would have gone further, but Nell wrapped her arms around herself. “Can’t I wear my nightgown?” she pleaded.

“No,” Lady Alice replied. “But I have brought a night robe with me. Put it on and you can finish undressing underneath it.”

She handed Nell a rich blue velvet robe that was open in the front and tied around the waist with a matching velvet belt. Nell put it on, turning her back on her mother and her maid, and slipped off her chemise and her drawers and drew the robe close around herself.

The velvet was very warm. Too warm for the bedroom, but Nell didn’t care. It covered her up; that was all that was important to her.

There was a silver pitcher of wine on the table under the window and Lady Alice poured Nell a glass. “Here, drink it. It will help.”

Nell still wasn’t used to wine, but she took the glass and swallowed a sip. Her eyes watered and she handed the silver goblet back to her mother. “It tastes terrible,” she said.

“You will learn to like it,” Lady Alice said.

I don’t think so, Nell thought rebelliously. I don’t think I’ll learn to like anything about what is happening to me tonight.

The sound of men’s voices floated through the thick wooden bedroom door. Involuntarily, Nell tightened the robe about herself. There was a knock on the door. Lady Alice called, “Come,” and the men entered the room.

The first thing Roger thought when he saw Nell was how lovely she looked. Her hair had been taken out of its braids and it flowed in a loose silken stream down her back. She was wearing a blue velvet robe, like the light woolen robe that covered his own nakedness. She looked so small and delicate as she stood next to her mother. She wasn’t looking at him.

The bishop stepped forward. He was carrying holy water in a small gold bucket and he dipped the shaker into it and sprinkled the bed. “I bless this bed and this marriage,” he said as he sprinkled. “May Roger and Eleanor follow your will, O Lord, and be fruitful and multiply. May they see their children like olive plants around their table. May the Lord so fill them with all spiritual benediction and grace, that they may so live together in this life, that in the world to come they may have life everlasting. Amen.”

“Amen,” everyone in the room with the exception of Nell echoed.

“It is time for us to leave,” Lady Alice said firmly.

Roger watched Nell as the room cleared. Her long brown hair was tucked behind her small ears and spread in a smooth fan to her waist. The pure oval of her face was regarding the floor with grave absorption.

Then they were alone.

He crossed the floor to where she stood. “You are so beautiful, Nell,” he said.

She cast a quick upward glance at him, then looked away.

A shy one, he thought.

“Everything will be all right,” he said reassuringly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She nodded slightly.

He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face up, so she would have to look at him. Then he bent his head and kissed her.

She gave him no response. He deepened the kiss and she hung like a doll in his arms. He could feel her trembling.

He lifted his head. “What is wrong?”

She didn’t answer, but a tear crept its way down the ivory of her face.

Roger muttered a curse word to himself.

“What is wrong?” he repeated, more strongly than before.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” she said. She spoke so low that he had to bend his head to hear her. “I know I should be brave but I just can’t seem to be.”

“Brave?” he said. “You said you entered this marriage willingly.”

She stared at his chest. “Everyone told me I had to do it. Even Mother Superior told me it was an opportunity for me to do good in the world. There was no place else for me to go….” Her voice ran out.

“I see,” he said quietly. And suddenly he did. They had all pushed her into this marriage for their political ends and no one had cared that she was a convent-raised girl who knew nothing of the world, nothing of men. Even he—he had asked her if she was willing and he had been very happy to accept her weak assurance that she was.

“Come sit beside me,” he said, and moved to sit on the side of the bed. Slowly she came to join him. The bed was so high that her feet didn’t touch the floor. He picked up one of her icy hands and held it between his two.

“What do you know about human coupling?” he asked bluntly.

He felt her hand grow rigid. “My mother told me last night,” she said tersely.

He sat there, thinking about what he should do next. He was a young man, with all a young man’s passions, but it occurred to him that if he took her tonight it would be nothing less than an act of rape. She was so frightened, this little girl from the convent. And he was a perfect stranger to her.

He inhaled deeply. “Would it be easier for you if we waited for a while?” he asked. “Perhaps, after you get a chance to know me better, all of this won’t seem so terrifying.”

She turned to look at him. “Do you mean that?” she asked breathlessly.

“I don’t want a wife who has to be brave to make love with me,” he said wryly. “I want a willing partner. The act of love can be a very beautiful thing, Nell, but I don’t think you’re ready to find that out yet. Get to know me. Get to be my friend. Then we will accomplish the marriage act and get to work on all of those olive plants around our table.”

For the first time that day color flushed into her cheeks. “Oh, my lord, that would be wonderful!”

“Call me Roger,” he said.

Her lips parted a little. She was really very lovely. “Roger,” she said shyly.

He smiled at her. “Nell. I am not such a bad fellow, but I will let you find that out for yourself. In the meantime, I think we should keep our little arrangement to ourselves. I have a feeling that our elders would not approve.”

“My mother would, I think, but not my father,” Nell said, her voice stronger now. “Mother wanted the marriage to be delayed to give me a chance to adjust to life outside the convent, but Father wouldn’t hear of it.”

“My grandfather also wanted the marriage to take place quickly.” He grinned at her. “I was nervous, too, you know.”

“You were?” she looked at him wonderingly.

He nodded. “I was afraid you were going to be ugly and that I wouldn’t be attracted to you at all. I was much relieved when I saw how pretty you are.”

A little more color came to her face. “It is vain of me, I know, but when I saw my face in the mirror I was happy that I looked nice,” she confessed.

He stared at her in astonishment. “You sound as if this was a recent occurrence.”

“Since I came home, a few weeks ago. There were no mirrors in the convent.”

“You really didn’t see yourself until a few weeks ago?” She nodded. Then she offered, “My mother’s ladies were all agog about how handsome you are. They all of them wished that they were marrying you.”

“But my looks didn’t sway you.”

“I prayed that you would have a kind heart,” Nell said. She actually smiled at him. “And you do. I thank you, my lord, for your consideration of my feelings.”

“Roger,” he said.

Her smile stayed in place. “Roger.” Her hand loosened its clutch on her robe and the top of it opened a little, giving him a glimpse of her long, delicate throat. She said, “I hope I am not going to be a disappointment to you. My mother has been trying to teach me how to run a castle, and I have learned somewhat, but much of it is still unknown to me.”

“You will do fine,” he said cheerfully. “My grandfather’s steward, Simon Everard, is in charge of all the domestic staff in the castle, and things run like clockwork. Lady Mabel, Simon’s wife, is in charge of the women. Will you be bringing ladies with you?”

“My aunt, Lady Alida, will come with me and stay a few months until I am settled in. How many ladies do you have in residence?”

“Not very many, I’m afraid. We are very much a bachelor household. My grandfather has been a widower for many years.”

“How old is he?” Nell asked.

“Seventy,” Roger replied.

“He seems very young for his age,” Nell said.

“He is. This year he insisted on going on a tour of his vassals that took us almost two months. He bore up wonderfully.”

“You sound as if you love him very much,” Nell said softly.

“My own father died when I was an infant and he is the only father I have ever known,” Roger replied matter-of-factly.

“What about your mother? She doesn’t reside at Wilton?”

“No. After my father died, my mother went to live at the convent in Cirencester.”

“Is she a nun?”

“No, she is still a laywoman, but she chooses to live there instead of at Wilton.”

Nell gave him a shy smile. “You seem to be surrounded by convent-dwelling women—first your mother and now your wife.”

“Yes.” He returned her smile. “It is odd.”

Her eyes slid away from his and her fingers once more clutched the front of her robe. “I have always slept in a nightgown,” she said. “Do you think I can sleep in this robe tonight?”

“I think you will be very uncomfortable if you do,” Roger said. “Velvet on a summer night, no matter if it is a bit chilly, is too warm. Besides, they will think it odd in the morning when the servants come in. I won’t look if that’s what you want.”

“That would be…good,” she said, relieved. “Should I get into bed now?”

“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll just wait here.”

She slid off the bed and went to the other side. The cover had already been turned back and she quickly folded her robe at the bottom of the bed and slipped in between the sheets, pulling them up to her chin.

“It’s all right, I’m in bed,” she said to Roger.

He turned to look at her and smiled. I have a long way to go here, he told himself. Then, unselfconsciously, he shed his own robe and walked to the opposite side of the bed. He slipped in under the covers and pulled them up to his waist. Then he turned to Nell. She was staring resolutely at the ceiling.

“You can look at me,” he said softly.

She shot a swift look in his direction, then returned her stare to the ceiling.

“Will it be all right if I kiss your forehead?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said on a soft breath.

He moved closer to her, pushed himself up on his elbow and leaned over her. He bent lower and touched his lips to her forehead. Her skin was soft as silk and her hair smelled like lavender. He inhaled. “Your hair smells nice,” he said.

“Mama washed it in lavender soap,” she said.

“I like it.”

“I’m sure I can make some myself if you really like it,” she said.

He flopped on his back. “I like it on you. I’d lose all my status with my knights if I showed up smelling like lavender.”

She chuckled.

It was a charming sound, he thought. He was relieved to find she had a sense of humor.

“Good night, Nell,” he said.

“Good night, Roger,” she replied softly. With a wry smile, he settled himself to sleep.

Eight

Nell, who had scarcely slept at all the night before, slept deeply and was surprised when it was a male voice that called her back to the world.

“Nell, wake up,” Roger was saying. “Your maid is here to help you dress.”

She opened her eyes and looked into the dark gold eyes of her husband. He smiled at her. “Wake up,” he said again. “We are going to be late for mass.”

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