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Authors: Claudia Dain
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to honor Lord Bernard," he announced to all present in the hall, "prayers will be said throughout the night. All are encouraged to participate."
The silence that heralded his proclamation pleased him. The ease with which he had avoided the marriage bed exhilarated him. Until he saw Adam smile in unmasked male pleasure.
Chapter 7
"He does it out of concern for you," Joan whispered. "'Tis an act of highest chivalry."
Isabel said nothing. She washed her hands in the communal lavatory with as much vigor as if she were pounding linen. She knew Richard; a chivalric act of graciousness had not been his goal.
"He but performs his holy duty to your father. For a man on his wedding night, it is the height of self-sacrifice. You should be pleased, not insulted," Joan insisted.
Isabel held her tongue and shook her hands like a hound shaking himself after a dousing. Holy duty? What of his duty to her? He would like the world to think him the most devout of men, but she knew him better. She knew what he was capable of, once he removed the cowl. No matter what Joan said to appease her, she knew what Richard had done to her in the full view of all Dornei: he had insulted her. He had rejected her. He had refused the pleasures of the marriage bed and of her.
"One night is little enough to complain of," Aelis said, standing just beyond Joan. "You have a handsome and virile husband, at least."
Aelis, ever on the watch for Edmund, a young man on whom she could slake her thirst for romance, was betrothed to a man three times her age who was missing the most important of his teeth. She was buxom, blond, and robust; too much for her betrothed, but an even match for Edmund, only three years her senior.
Elsbeth, small and dark and fragile in appearance, spoke up from behind Isabel. "In that, Aelis is correct; one night is only that. Other nights, and days, will follow. This is but a moment."
Isabel smiled ruefully at Elsbeth. Of them all, Elsbeth understood best what she was feeling. It was humiliation; her desire for Richard was so clearly unreturned.
"A moment only," Joan said softly into her ear, giving her a quick hug. "It hurts, I will grant, but he is your husband now and nothing can change that. Remember that, my dear, and dwell on it."
If she but could, but she had known Richard for year upon year and one thing she knew above all else: Richard was an elusive prey. He was like the sun, ever in the sky and clearly seen but eternally unreachable. She had watched him, season after season, and she had yet to catch him. Once, she had thought... but then he had fled Malton for the abbey. She had known she had lost him then. Yet did not God work miracles? Was not Richard now her husband in fact? Aelis was right. It was but a single night.
But it was her wedding night, and instead of learning of the joys of the marriage bed, she would be praying through the long hours until dawn.
And was she so ungrateful to the God who had given her Richard? Nay, she was not. One night of prayer was not such a great sacrifice. She would pray for her father, Bernard, and his wife, Ida, and for Hubert and for Geoffrey; she would pray for them all, they who so recently departed this earth for heaven and eternal rest. She would pray. She had Richard.
Tomorrow, night would come again. Tomorrow, Richard would make her his wife in fact.
With a faint smile to show she was encouraged by their words, Isabel led the way out of the lavatory. But she was not encouraged, she was only patient. With Richard as her heart's desire, she had learned the necessity of patience long ago. One night she had to wait, one night more, when she had thought never to have the gift of Richard in her bed and in her life. She could wait one night.
Did Richard, ever elusive, understand that he had achieved a reprieve of only one night?
The sight of Adam, smiling and handsome, interrupted her circling thoughts. Could not her husband of hours be more like Adam? More
The silence that heralded his proclamation pleased him. The ease with which he had avoided the marriage bed exhilarated him. Until he saw Adam smile in unmasked male pleasure.
Chapter 7
"He does it out of concern for you," Joan whispered. "'Tis an act of highest chivalry."
Isabel said nothing. She washed her hands in the communal lavatory with as much vigor as if she were pounding linen. She knew Richard; a chivalric act of graciousness had not been his goal.
"He but performs his holy duty to your father. For a man on his wedding night, it is the height of self-sacrifice. You should be pleased, not insulted," Joan insisted.
Isabel held her tongue and shook her hands like a hound shaking himself after a dousing. Holy duty? What of his duty to her? He would like the world to think him the most devout of men, but she knew him better. She knew what he was capable of, once he removed the cowl. No matter what Joan said to appease her, she knew what Richard had done to her in the full view of all Dornei: he had insulted her. He had rejected her. He had refused the pleasures of the marriage bed and of her.
"One night is little enough to complain of," Aelis said, standing just beyond Joan. "You have a handsome and virile husband, at least."
Aelis, ever on the watch for Edmund, a young man on whom she could slake her thirst for romance, was betrothed to a man three times her age who was missing the most important of his teeth. She was buxom, blond, and robust; too much for her betrothed, but an even match for Edmund, only three years her senior.
Elsbeth, small and dark and fragile in appearance, spoke up from behind Isabel. "In that, Aelis is correct; one night is only that. Other nights, and days, will follow. This is but a moment."
Isabel smiled ruefully at Elsbeth. Of them all, Elsbeth understood best what she was feeling. It was humiliation; her desire for Richard was so clearly unreturned.
"A moment only," Joan said softly into her ear, giving her a quick hug. "It hurts, I will grant, but he is your husband now and nothing can change that. Remember that, my dear, and dwell on it."
If she but could, but she had known Richard for year upon year and one thing she knew above all else: Richard was an elusive prey. He was like the sun, ever in the sky and clearly seen but eternally unreachable. She had watched him, season after season, and she had yet to catch him. Once, she had thought... but then he had fled Malton for the abbey. She had known she had lost him then. Yet did not God work miracles? Was not Richard now her husband in fact? Aelis was right. It was but a single night.
But it was her wedding night, and instead of learning of the joys of the marriage bed, she would be praying through the long hours until dawn.
And was she so ungrateful to the God who had given her Richard? Nay, she was not. One night of prayer was not such a great sacrifice. She would pray for her father, Bernard, and his wife, Ida, and for Hubert and for Geoffrey; she would pray for them all, they who so recently departed this earth for heaven and eternal rest. She would pray. She had Richard.
Tomorrow, night would come again. Tomorrow, Richard would make her his wife in fact.
With a faint smile to show she was encouraged by their words, Isabel led the way out of the lavatory. But she was not encouraged, she was only patient. With Richard as her heart's desire, she had learned the necessity of patience long ago. One night she had to wait, one night more, when she had thought never to have the gift of Richard in her bed and in her life. She could wait one night.
Did Richard, ever elusive, understand that he had achieved a reprieve of only one night?
The sight of Adam, smiling and handsome, interrupted her circling thoughts. Could not her husband of hours be more like Adam? More
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