Chapter Eight
We married within ten days. I spent much of that time sequestered within my chamber, although each day I did take a walk outside, accompanied, if not by Pengraic himself, by d’Avranches or Taillebois or one of the senior knights as well as Evelyn.
I felt the most chaperoned woman in England.
I met Henry on several occasions during those walks and we passed pleasant, courteous words that said nothing. Always Henry had a look of sharp amusement in his eyes that sent shivers up my spine.
Sweet Jesu, he knew about Stephen and the children! Not the particulars perhaps, but he knew that I’d somehow had something to do with their ‘dying more peacefully’. I dreaded to think what he might do with that information.
The time spent in the chamber was, if somewhat confining, at least less dangerous than the outer world. Evelyn, Sewenna, Tilla and myself spent the time sewing. We made two new kirtles: another day kirtle of pale apple-green woollen cloth with embroideries rich enough to allow it to do duty at court, and a far richer silken kirtle of deep wine red that I would wear for the wedding. As well, we stitched ribbons, more chemises, a cloak from heavy wool, gloves and hose.
No one could say we were not industrious.
I only saw Pengraic on the few occasions he accompanied Evelyn and myself on our walks. Our conversations were brief, and touched only on trivial matters. His thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. I was most pleased, however, to note that whenever I saw him he wore my purse on his belt. I was so unsure of the earl that this simple gesture of his pleasure in something I had done for him reassured me extraordinarily.
We spoke of something deeper only once, when I asked him when he thought it would be necessary to return to Edmond’s court.
‘Necessary?’ he arched an eyebrow. ‘It is necessary now. Every day I delay my enemies will be trying to turn Edmond against me. I do not want to give them any more opportunity than I must.’
I wondered how I could rephrase the question without him becoming irritated. ‘Then why do you delay, my lord?’
It was direct, but I hoped it would not anger him. Even though I was now betrothed to the man, I still stepped carefully and as delicately about him as I might.
‘The garrison needs to be fully manned,’ he said. ‘It will take several more weeks before enough knights and soldiers have come from my other estates. Thank Christ d’Avranches survived the plague, for I would be lost without him.’
‘And then to court?’
‘You seem most desirous to get to court as quickly as you might, mistress.’
‘I press only because I understand the danger posed by your enemies there, my lord.’
He stopped, and looked south as if he could see over the great keep. ‘I want to know where the plague got to,’ he muttered. ‘I want to know how far it travelled down this valley, and where it stopped, and why.’
Why do you need to know that, my lord? But I did not ask that question; I knew my limits. ‘You cannot send a party of men to discover?’
He gave a slight shake of his head. ‘They would need to travel deep into Welsh territory. I fear they might not return.’
‘And you do not wish to deplete Pengraic of a party large enough to travel safely.’
He looked at me then, a glint of amusement in his eyes. ‘Had you been a man, Maeb, you would have made a useful general.’
I laughed — the first time I had ever freely done so in his presence — and was rewarded by a deepening of the amusement in his eyes.
I tried to think of some witty remark to make to counter his, but my mind failed me, and we stood there a moment, the amusement fading to awkwardness. Eventually the earl gave a small bow and we parted.
As had my betrothal day, my wedding day dawned fine and clear. This was a far less formal occasion than my betrothal, which had seen the formal legalities signed, spoken, exchanged and witnessed, and there was to be only a short mass in the church, an afternoon meal to be taken in the solar with a few guests, and then the commencement of married life, with its adventures, worries and drudgeries.
While I had many fears and insecurities about marrying Pengraic, one of my most prominent thoughts was that I was glad this day had come if only because we would see the back of Henry and Summersete.
I dressed in the kirtle of wine-red silk that Evelyn, Sewenna, Tilla and I had stitched over the past week, wearing Pengraic’s golden girdle and leaving my hair to flow free as indication of my virginity. Evelyn made a small circlet of flowers which she placed on my head. D’Avranches escorted me to the chapel where there was a group of witnesses waiting, Henry and Summersete among them. Pengraic was already there, standing before the altar with Owain. The earl was looking a little awkward and more than a little impatient. I dipped in courtesy to Henry and Summersete, then did the same to Pengraic as I stood by his side.
Owain conducted the ceremony and mass with remarkable brevity — possibly acting under instructions from Pengraic. Pengraic presented me with another gift, this time a lovely, delicate, twisted gold ring set with tiny pearls whereupon we kissed perfunctorily. Then Henry and Summersete stepped forward, said the modicum of polite phrases, and both kissed me briefly on the lips.
Everyone was back out in the sun before noon.
I had expected that Henry and Summersete would join us for the celebratory meal in the solar, but to my surprise — and delight — their horses and escort were waiting as we exited the chapel.
‘Do not forget that my father waits for you,’ Henry said to Pengraic. ‘It will go the worse for you the longer you delay.’
Then he gave me a smile. ‘My lady,’ he said, kissing my hand.
With that he was gone, Summersete’s goodbye consisting of a grunt that my husband (how strange it seemed to be thinking of him as such!) and I had to share.
The column clattered out the main gate without a backward glance.
‘For sweet Christ’s sake,’ Pengraic muttered to d’Avranches, ‘set a man atop the parapets to watch so he can reassure me they rode all the way out of the valley. And have the gates locked.’
We went to the solar where, with Owain, d’Avranches and two other of the senior knights, including Gilbert Ghent, we ate a light repast of cold meats, fruits and cheeses. Evelyn stood to one side, ready to attend me if needed. The air seemed thick with people muttering ‘my lady’. It was very strange, watching Evelyn hover beyond me, listening to others address me, trying to come to terms with the realisation I was now a countess and wed to one of the most powerful nobles in the realm.
And yet, here we sat talking of inconsequential things and nibbling on cheeses and meats and dried figs.
Generally, the earl and d’Avranches kept conversation going with a prosaic discussion of repairing the garrison keep from the damage the plague fires had wrought. Eventually, they both decided they needed to inspect some work that was being done on the upper floors of the garrison.
Such was my marriage feast. The earl told me we would have a light meal in the evening, again in the solar, and then he and d’Avranches departed with the other knights. Owain stayed a few minutes longer, then he, too, left.
Evelyn and I were on our own.
We passed the afternoon in desultory manner, stitching away at yet more garments. I spent the time mostly thinking and worrying about the night ahead. I was no stranger to what went on between a man and a woman: having lived my childhood in a village, I had spent enough time, along with other children, with my eye glued to cracks in planks of barns and other outbuildings where young lovers chose to cavort.
If I had been as other village children I would have chosen a lover as a young woman and only married when I was breeding my first child.
But my life had taken a very different course, and here I was, noble wed, awaiting my marriage night. I was nervous enough of Pengraic without wondering how he might expect me to behave in bed. What did he want from a wife? Quiet compliance? Screaming enthusiasm? I didn’t know.
Given that I had known his former wife, though, I could make some suppositions. Adelie would doubtless have been quietly compliant (unless she presented her husband with a very different side than she showed to everyone else). She had herself told me that the earl was demanding of his marital rights, and that she was always glad when she was breeding so that she might evade such demands. Is that what the earl liked? Or had he kept a mistress who had provided him with the bed sport he truly desired?