All I heard was the desire and wonder in his voice rather than the words themselves, and I did not think any more on what he said.
Thus was my marriage night. I shall not speak more of it for modesty’s sake — I have already spoken too freely. But it was not what I had expected, and certainly not what I had feared.
I had hoped only that I would please him. I had not thought that I, also, would find pleasure in him, and from him.
Chapter Nine
Thus I became the Countess of Pengraic. A new circumstance and an uneasy one. Previously I had watched the world from a lowly rank, and I was comfortable there. I knew my place. But suddenly I was transported to the very highest of ranks within secular society. I had to relinquish so much of my understanding of the world, and virtually all of my learned and comfortable behaviours.
I no longer knew my place. All I could do was rely on Evelyn, to a lesser extent on my husband, and from my memories of how Adelie had behaved. But I had only known Adelie a short time and what I learned from my memories of her was limited. How did I command? I did not know. What were my rights — and my courtesies — in command? I did not know. For instance, Evelyn was now my attending woman rather than my friend. We both found that adjustment uncomfortable.
I wanted, as a gesture to Evelyn, to ask her daughter to join me as an attending woman as well, but did not know how to go about this. Did I ask my husband? My instinctive feeling was that yes, I should ask him … but was that instinct a relic from Mistress Maeb, low-ranked attendant? Did Pengraic have any care as to who my attending ladies were? Should I just ask Taillebois to organise her transport here and be done with it?
But would that antagonise de Tosny, in whose household Evelyn’s daughter currently resided. Did I need to ask him? As a countess, did I need to ‘ask’ a lower ranked noble … or did I just take? I didn’t know! Again, my gut instinct was to ask de Tosny’s permission, to be courteous, but my head argued a countess did not need to ‘ask permission’.
There were other doubts and considerations. Did I need more than one attending lady, when I had no children? Was two an extravagance? Wasteful? Indulgent? What would Adelie have done?
It was such a simple matter, one which I am sure would have concerned my husband not the least, and which Adelie would have solved and acted upon within an instant. But I spent days, weeks, worrying over it and, in the end, did nothing.
I had not been raised to be a noble. I did not know the order and manner of things in such a life.
I struggled.
I worried about my struggles, because this was but life at Pengraic Castle which, while formal enough, was nothing as compared to life at court. I started to hope that when my husband finally surrendered to Edmond’s wishes and returned to court, he would leave me behind. Adelie had remained behind at Rosseley; might not I at Pengraic?
In the meantime I managed as best I could and hoped I did not embarrass my husband. My new role as wife was much easier than my role as countess. Pengraic did not ask much of me. At night we shared a bed and, most nights, we coupled, and I became far more confident in that aspect of my new duties.
As I had discovered on my marriage night, I found love-making surprisingly enjoyable. Surprising because I had never thought of Pengraic in terms of ‘lover’, and I had supposed that sharing a bed and my body with him would prove to be as awkward (and sometimes as frightening) as so often were our conversations. After all, that was what Lady Adelie had led me to expect with her sighs and talk of her husband’s ‘demands’.
But, no. I did not struggle to be self-assured in bed, as I did out of it.
I quickly grew to enjoy my husband’s attentions, and grew to trust in my own abilities as his sexual partner. I had never thought I might enjoy love-making so much, or grow to look forward to it. From what my husband said on the matter (and even more from his undoubted enthusiasm for our bed sport), I realised that my lack of inhibitions (as compared, I supposed, to Adelie’s) pleased him and that gave me ever more confidence. I was careful not to be too presumptuous, and to always defer to my husband — I did not want him to think me the harlot — but I was relaxed and accommodating, even at times a little forward, and our bed was one of the few places I ever heard my husband laugh spontaneously.
I pleased him and that left me with a warm sense of accomplishment. He was gentle and courteous in bed, when he was so often not when out of it, and that pleased me even more. It allowed me to be more tolerant with his moments of ill-temper during the day. I also came to realise that when he was uncomfortable he retreated behind his mask of indifference, at times hiding behind anger and snappishness.
Gradually I grew to know my husband better.
Over several weeks our life settled into an increasingly comfortable routine. We rose early and we broke our fast and generally shared few words over a frugal meal in the solar. My husband (the words slowly rolled ever more easily from my tongue) then spent the majority of the day within the castle, overseeing the task of rebuilding (where necessary), restocking and re-manning the castle, and restoring morale. He sometimes spent a few days at a time away at neighbouring towns and villages; Ragheian and Monemude, Tretower and Crickhoel.
I spent the days within the solar sewing, or within the chapel praying or chatting with Owain with whom I maintained a friendship, even after my elevation to countess. The nights, if my husband was home, we spent dining within the great hall in some informality. These were often cheerful evenings, especially if an itinerant minstrel was passing through, or even players or jugglers. Other guests might be present, such as travelling friars and monks, messengers, merchants, pilgrims, all of whom added their own interest, news and tales to the evening. We oft had dancing — the minstrels taught me of the newer dances in favour at court — and even courtly games to while away the evenings. And thence to bed, which, for its lack of formality, my husband’s laughter and the sport we shared, was the part of the day I always looked forward to most.
I enjoyed the closeness and warmth of our privy chamber. I also enjoyed the fact that my husband preferred to share our chamber at night with me alone. Most nobles had a servant or two sleeping on a truckle bed, or on a cot at the foot of the main bed, but not the earl. I was grateful for it, that we could enjoy our bed sport, and each other, without fear of what my husband’s valet, Charles or, heaven help me, Evelyn, might be thinking as they listened.
One day, while my husband was off with d’Avranches, I decided I was sick of the solar and was not in a mood for Owain or the chapel. With Evelyn left behind in the solar, I walked out to the stables in the outer bailey. I had often thought of Dulcette, and wondered if she had survived the time of chaos when the plague hit the castle. Perhaps I might stroke her nose and dream of riding her … as part of my insecurities as countess I did not know if I could request to have her saddled, or if it was proper (or even safe) for me to ride out by myself.
I would just content myself with stroking her nose, and feeding her an apple I had taken from the fruit tray in the solar.
And, if she had been lost when so many horses roamed untethered, then the mere walk to and from the outer bailey would amuse me and keep me entertained for the morning.
The outer bailey was a foreign land to me. I had not had a reason to visit here previously and I halted just inside the bailey after I’d walked through the tunnel under the northern keep. It was a bustle of activity. To one side was the kitchen for the garrison, men coming and going with baskets and carcasses.
The blacksmith, Sewenna’s husband, was hammering away by a roaring fire, his face and torso red and sweating in the heat. Several men were washing horses down in one corner. In another a group of children played. Yet somewhere else a group of women, wives of the craftsmen and soldiers, stood and chatted. Soldiers sat in the sun and mended and polished saddlery and weapons.