To The Castle. Joan Wolf
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“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