Coulter, Catherine. Rosehaven / Catherine Coulter.

Everyone did drink and cheer, but it was an effort. No one knew this man, this man who was their new master. All were wary. Most, she knew, were worried for her. Even Beamis and her father’s men-at-arms had kept their distance, but she saw they now seemed more at ease with Severin’s men.

She left the great hall as soon as she could. Tonight would be her last night of freedom. Tonight would be her last night to be herself. Dame Agnes, who had sewn her gown and had been her mother’s nurse and hers as well, accompanied her to her small bedchamber. “It is kindness on the lord’s part,” the old woman said, “that he not come to you tonight. But tomorrow night, my little pet, you must allow him to take you. I will pray that he won’t hurt you, but know that it will hurt a bit the first time. But it isn’t important. You lie still and let him do what he must. Later, we can speak of other things.”

What other things? Hastings wondered. She said, “I know what he will do, Agnes. I’ve heard that some women even enjoy the act. My mother must have enjoyed Ralph the falconer since she willingly went to his bed.”

“You are not your poor mother. She was unhappy for a while, but then Lord Fawke gave her no chance to change. It is a tragedy.”

“What do you mean? She wanted to return to my father?”

Dame Agnes tightly seamed her thin lips.

“Come, my mother has been dead many years now. My father is dead. There is no one here to feel their pain anymore. Tell me, Agnes. Don’t you believe I deserve to know?”

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“Hold still,” the old woman said.

Hastings said nothing more, just raised her arms and moved this way and that until Agnes had removed the precious saffron silk gown. “You will keep it safe for your own daughter,” she said. “I doubt I will be here to sew her wedding gown for her.”

“Of course you will. I grow more efficient with my herbs every day. You will see, by next month I will be able to cure the plague. Mayhap even old age.”

Dame Agnes smiled. It was a nice smile to Hastings, even though the old woman was missing most of her teeth. “You keep your head about you, Hastings. You hold firm. A woman bends, that you must remember, but she can still keep her place unto herself. Our new lord, he is a mystery, but he is still just a man, and no man I’ve ever heard of can hide himself for very long.”

“I dare say his marten won’t let him.”

“Ah, the marten. A strange companion for a warrior. Now, little pet, let me assist you in your night shift. It belonged to your mother. I have been keeping it safe for you.”

“Why should I wear it tonight? He will not come. He swore to me that he would not.”

“Ah, I had forgotten that. Aye, just wear your shift. There’s my little pet. You will sleep now. Hear the storm. You have always loved the storm blowing in from the sea. Let it give you sweet dreams.”

Dame Agnes leaned down, pulled the soft wool blanket to her throat, and kissed her cheek. She pulled her fingers through her thick hair. “How beautiful you are, Hastings, with your lovely chestnut hair, just like your mother’s. And those green eyes of yours, aye, they’re more vivid than the moss in the Pevensey Swamp. And now, you are my lady. I will inform the servants that they are now to curtsy when they see you and not just sing out your name as all of them have done since you were a tiny little mite.”

Hastings just smiled. It was difficult to believe all these changes could occur overnight.

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The bedchamber was dark. The rain pounded against the closed wooden shutters that covered the only window in her room. She listened to the roiling waves crash against the ancient rocks some sixty feet below. She was lucky, all in all. She wouldn’t have to leave her home as did most girls when they wedded. So she was beautiful, was she? She wondered if her new husband believed her beautiful. He probably didn’t care.

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