Read Online The Holding - Book 1 in The Medieval Knights Series by Claudia Dain - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Claudia Dain
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steps that stopped completely upon seeing Lady Cathryn standing alone in the chapel. Dressed as she was in white, with hands clasped before her in meek supplication, she looked the penitent pilgrim. He thought it a particularly apt comparison.
William, seeking her, appeared in the portal as silently as ever. Odd that it was William and not Father Godfrey that she was instantly aware of. His dark hair curled abundantly on his head; would it be soft or springy? Would it be as blue-black in the summer sun as it was in the winter fog? Catching her thoughts before they flew away with her, she laughed inwardly; it would be wiser to ask if his jaw would be as resolute and his eyes as penetrating six months hence. She did not know what she hoped for in answer to her unspoken question.
As William was coming to expect when he came upon her unexpectedly, he had eyes for none save her. He did not see the penitent pilgrim that Father Godfrey saw; he saw a strong woman, a woman in full command of herself and everyone else. But as cold as she seemed, she drew him in. It was folly—he knew it was—but she drew him to her as the earth draws the lightning bolt.
And then another thought struck him hard: she seemed ever to stand alone.
Godfrey broke the moment of intense contemplation between them. With a gesture, he welcomed William into the chapel, his expression unaccountably serious. Again, rising like the tides, the knowledge that something was amiss in Greneforde swept over him. The sensation never left him completely, but was only enhanced or subdued. The sensation was strong now.
"I am glad that you are both here, for there is something I would like to do before this day of your joining is over," Godfrey said.
Taking Cathryn's hand in his own, Godfrey held it tenderly, both hands surrounding hers as in a paternal caress; then he placed her hand in William's. Her husband's hand, far surpassing the priest's in both size and strength, engulfed hers so that all that was left visible was her protruding wrist.
Cathryn was not comforted.
But Godfrey spared her not a glance. His gaze—and it was a fixed gaze of serious intent—was reserved wholly for William.
"Remember you the scripture regarding how a husband should love his wife, William?"
William had not been expecting that, and it was a moment before he answered.
"Yea, Father, if you refer to Saint Paul's letter to the church at Ephesus, but now is not the time for one of your tests of my concentration and memory."
"'Tis more than that, William. I would hear you speak the words of our Lord concerning a husband's duty to his wife. I would wish for Lady Cathryn to hear them in your voice."
William searched Father Godfrey's face for an indication of where he was going with this odd request. He saw nothing there save earnestness. Cathryn was looking curiously at the priest, so she did not appear to have any clearer notion as to the cause. Normally William would have cheerfully and politely refused Godfrey's request, putting him off for another time, but today he had obtained a great prize after years of labor. He submitted to the priest with a smile. The sense of unease that he had had when first entering the chapel was waning and he was glad of it; he had Greneforde and he had Cathryn. What could be amiss?
"Yea, Father, I remember it, and if you seek proof I will gladly supply it."
William began, "'Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.''' William stopped for breath and noticed that Cathryn had her hands clasped tightly in front of her gown and that she was staring wide-eyed and mute at Father Godfrey. Of course, that irritated him. What was wrong with the woman that she always looked to the priest and never to the husband God and king
William, seeking her, appeared in the portal as silently as ever. Odd that it was William and not Father Godfrey that she was instantly aware of. His dark hair curled abundantly on his head; would it be soft or springy? Would it be as blue-black in the summer sun as it was in the winter fog? Catching her thoughts before they flew away with her, she laughed inwardly; it would be wiser to ask if his jaw would be as resolute and his eyes as penetrating six months hence. She did not know what she hoped for in answer to her unspoken question.
As William was coming to expect when he came upon her unexpectedly, he had eyes for none save her. He did not see the penitent pilgrim that Father Godfrey saw; he saw a strong woman, a woman in full command of herself and everyone else. But as cold as she seemed, she drew him in. It was folly—he knew it was—but she drew him to her as the earth draws the lightning bolt.
And then another thought struck him hard: she seemed ever to stand alone.
Godfrey broke the moment of intense contemplation between them. With a gesture, he welcomed William into the chapel, his expression unaccountably serious. Again, rising like the tides, the knowledge that something was amiss in Greneforde swept over him. The sensation never left him completely, but was only enhanced or subdued. The sensation was strong now.
"I am glad that you are both here, for there is something I would like to do before this day of your joining is over," Godfrey said.
Taking Cathryn's hand in his own, Godfrey held it tenderly, both hands surrounding hers as in a paternal caress; then he placed her hand in William's. Her husband's hand, far surpassing the priest's in both size and strength, engulfed hers so that all that was left visible was her protruding wrist.
Cathryn was not comforted.
But Godfrey spared her not a glance. His gaze—and it was a fixed gaze of serious intent—was reserved wholly for William.
"Remember you the scripture regarding how a husband should love his wife, William?"
William had not been expecting that, and it was a moment before he answered.
"Yea, Father, if you refer to Saint Paul's letter to the church at Ephesus, but now is not the time for one of your tests of my concentration and memory."
"'Tis more than that, William. I would hear you speak the words of our Lord concerning a husband's duty to his wife. I would wish for Lady Cathryn to hear them in your voice."
William searched Father Godfrey's face for an indication of where he was going with this odd request. He saw nothing there save earnestness. Cathryn was looking curiously at the priest, so she did not appear to have any clearer notion as to the cause. Normally William would have cheerfully and politely refused Godfrey's request, putting him off for another time, but today he had obtained a great prize after years of labor. He submitted to the priest with a smile. The sense of unease that he had had when first entering the chapel was waning and he was glad of it; he had Greneforde and he had Cathryn. What could be amiss?
"Yea, Father, I remember it, and if you seek proof I will gladly supply it."
William began, "'Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.''' William stopped for breath and noticed that Cathryn had her hands clasped tightly in front of her gown and that she was staring wide-eyed and mute at Father Godfrey. Of course, that irritated him. What was wrong with the woman that she always looked to the priest and never to the husband God and king
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