To The Castle. Joan Wolf

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