by Anne Herries
‘May I be permitted to say that Lord Zander is a fortunate man,’ he said. ‘I am sent to tell you that the priest is prepared, my lady. The ceremony will take place in the chapel as soon as you are ready.’
‘I shall come now,’ Elaine said and looked at her ladies. Each of them was wearing a tunic she had not previously seen and she guessed that Zander had brought gifts for her ladies, as well as her. ‘Wish me happy, Marion…Ellen…Mary…Hilda…’
One by one they wished her happiness and kissed her cheek. They had brought strings of rosemary to lead her to her bridegroom and flower petals to shower over the happy couple once the knot was tied.
Elaine’s heart was racing as she went down to the chapel, her ladies fluttering about her and laughing, teasing her and chattering like a flock of birds.
The chapel had been decked with greenery and all the household had assembled to see her wed. Sir Robert stood as Zander’s witness and her steward was to give her away, her ladies to stand witness to her consent.
Zander was dressed in black, as he habitually was, but his long tunic was embroidered with gold and sewn with beads. About his waist He wore a wide gold belt with a short jewelled scabbard, which housed a dagger with a gold handle. He wore no other jewellery, but his hair had been oiled and was brushed back and curled under in the manner of the day rather than hanging wildly about his face. He turned and smiled at her as her ladies led her towards him and a sweet boy’s voice sang a melody of joy.
Elaine took her place beside him. Zander reached for her hand and held it, as it trembled slightly, and then the priest began the service that would bind them for the rest of their lives.
A ray of sun had pierced the high windows of the chapel, sending a myriad of colours on to the ancient stone flags. The silver cross gleamed in the light and Elaine felt its warmth on her face. They were asked and gave their vows. She smiled at Zander and her fears melted as he lifted her veil and kissed her lips.
‘We are now man and wife,’ he said. From the back of the chapel a gasp was heard and an odd scuffling sound. Elaine resisted the urge to look round until the bells started to ring and, taking her husband’s hand, she began to walk from the chapel.
She saw that Lord Stornway and his sister had joined the congregation, a little late it seemed for what was supposed to have been their betrothal. The earl stared at her so strangely, almost as if he could not believe what he had heard and seen. Anne’s face was frozen in an expression of disbelief—and was that anger she was trying to hide?
Elaine’s hand trembled on Zander’s arm as they left the chapel and everyone formed a line behind them. Her ladies and Zander’s men were cheering and laughing, and they were sprinkled with dried flower petals, which smelled of lavender and roses.
‘May God bless your union, lady.’
‘May the Good Lord send you sons, my lord…’
There were jokes and good wishes, and round after round of cheering as they all trooped into the Great Hall, where the feast had been prepared.
Dishes of dates stuffed with nuts and marchpane, sugared plums and other fruits were piled high on silver dishes. All kinds of little tarts and cakes were set out for the guests to indulge their appetites as they would. Wine, ale and sack were being served to everyone by those chosen to wait on the tables at the wedding feast, but every member of the household would at some time share in the delicious food that Zander had provided.
Anne came up to Elaine as she paused in her progress to the high board. ‘I brought but a small token, for I thought today merely a betrothal,’ she said, an odd tone in her voice. ‘Had I known it was to be your wedding I would have selected something more worthy.’
She presented Elaine with a small gift wrapped in silk. It turned out to be a small box of silver and horn, which might be used to keep a token in. Elaine thought it pretty and thanked her, but Anne did not smile, merely gave her what she could only think of as a pitying smile.
Lord Stornway was congratulating Zander. The two men shook hands and seemed perfectly at ease with one another.
‘Lady Elaine,’ Philip said easily, smiling at her. ‘I must offer my congratulations—or should it be commiseration? You have married a man dedicated to his cause and will, I fear, be left too often alone while he is away fighting.’ He spoke in jest, but there was something that made Elaine’s spine tingle.
‘My lord must do as he thinks fit,’ she said. ‘I shall not be the first wife to wait for her husband’s return.’
‘No, indeed,’ Philip said and laughed. ‘I thought I should never see this fellow smile again, but you seemed to have banished his nightmares, lady. I am heartily glad to see you both so happy.’
Elaine thanked him for his good wishes. Glancing at Anne, she saw her frown, quickly hidden, and wondered.
‘My gift to you is a silver chalice and for Zander a sword I think he will value,’ Philip went on. ‘They were meant to be betrothal gifts, but a wedding is even better.’
‘My bride and I are happy to welcome you as our principal guests,’ Zander said. ‘I thought for a moment you might miss the ceremony altogether.’
‘We were late, were we not?’ Philip apologised and looked at his sister. ‘Anne was not quite herself this morning and I told her she should stay in her chamber and rest, but she insisted upon coming. I fear it made us a little tardy.’
‘It matters not. You are here for the feasting,’ Zander said and smiled. He clapped his hands. ‘Let the celebrations begin…’
Zander led Elaine to the high table. After she had taken her seat next to him, Anne and Philip were seated, and then the others gradually found their places. At a signal from Zander, food was brought to table. Tasters had been appointed to sample each dish before the guests were served, but nothing untoward happened and everyone ate and drank heartily. The minstrel sang songs that all the company could enjoy and the tumblers performed their tricks, followed by a fire eater and dancers.
Elaine ate sparingly. The feasting would go on all afternoon and into the evening, and fresh dishes would be served continually. She drank wine sweetened with honey and diluted with water, but only sipped it, just as she merely tasted some of the dishes offered her.
It was some time later that she glanced down the table at Anne and saw her staring at Zander with such a look that she shivered. What could that expression mean? In that moment Anne seemed almost to hate Elaine’s husband, yet the next moment she was smiling and laughing at something Sir Robert said to her. Was it merely Elaine’s imagination—or was Anne pretending to feelings that were far from those she truly felt?
‘Lady, will you dance?’
The question took Elaine by surprise. She looked up at Lord Stornway and smiled, then glanced at Zander, who nodded his approval.
‘Thank you, my lord,’ she said and offered her hand. He helped her to rise and they went down the steps of the dais to the floor of the hall. The musicians began to play a slow, stately dance and Elaine laughed with pleasure as Philip pointed his shoe elegantly, then bowed to her. She curtsied. ‘You dance like a courtier, sir.’
‘Alas, I had a misspent youth,’ he said and smiled at her in a way she thought a little too intimate. ‘While Zander was away fighting the heathen, I fear I was dancing at court.’
‘Do you go often to court, my lord?’ Elaine was puzzled for he was the King’s Marshal. She wondered that he would attend Prince John’s court more often than necessary.
‘I thought it right to present my sister with opportunities for marriage, but, alas, she found no suitors that pleased her.’
‘Did she not once think of marriage?’
‘Did Anne tell you that?’ Lord Stornway looked surprised. ‘She seldom speaks of her disappointment to anyone. She must truly value you, Elaine. Her childhood sweetheart took the Cross at the same time as Zander, though they came from different parts of the country. He promised to return and wed her when his fortune was made—but he was killed in the Holy Land. I had hoped she might forge
t him and take another husband, but I fear she will never marry now.’
‘She told me as much,’ Elaine said. ‘I am sorry for her loss. I have been luckier.’
‘Yes. Zander returned to you, did he not?’ Philip said and for a moment his eyes were oddly distant. ‘I pray that you shall not have cause to regret.’
‘What mean you, sir?’ Elaine shivered, though she tried to control it. The ice was at her nape once more.
‘Why, only that he is a man obsessed by his need to avenge his father,’ Philip replied. ‘I could wish he would settle here with you and forget his quarrel with Newark, but I fear he will press it to the limit.’
‘Yes, I know that nothing will sway my lord from his vow to be avenged on the man who murdered his father.’
‘If Richard were to return in time, he would forbid it. For all his faults, Newark is the King’s man. Richard will need all his loyal knights, for if the common man does not flock to his standard he may find that Prince John has too strong a hold on the throne.’
‘The prince would not deny his brother’s rights?’ Elaine was horrified. She knew that Prince John had ruled harshly in his brother’s absence, ill treating the poor and the nobles who remained loyal to Richard and committing many injustices. Yet surely he would not defy his rightful king?
‘I only say it could happen.’ Philip shook his head. ‘But I should not speak of such things on your wedding day, my lady.’
Elaine frowned. ‘I know Zander craves revenge for the wrong done his father—but he is loyal to Richard. If the king returned before it was settled between them, he would accept his judgement.’
‘Perhaps…’ Philip’s expression was thoughtful. ‘I would not see you a widow too soon, Elaine—but if it should happen, remember I am your friend. If ever you should need me…’
Elaine nodded, but did not smile. Why did she feel his words were almost a threat rather than an act of kindness?
‘No more of this—it is your wedding day, a celebration,’ he said as the music died. For a moment his fingers closed possessively over hers and then released her.
Elaine returned to her seat beside Zander. He had been talking to Anne and was smiling. Anne had been laughing and Elaine could only think she had mistaken her expression earlier.
These people were Zander’s closest friends. She was foolish to suspect them of not being honest in their good wishes. She was letting her own fears cloud her mind. It was ridiculous to see something malicious or menacing in the warnings of both brother and sister.
No, she must forget these foolish imaginings and think only of the coming night, when she would at last be Zander’s wife in truth. Her heart beat wildly and she was suffused with warmth when she thought of the pleasure to come.
Chapter Ten
The evening was well advanced when Elaine left her place at the high board to return to her chamber. Zander had whispered to her that it was time.
‘Go now, my love, before it becomes too rowdy. The men have drunk well and their tongues grow loose. I shall follow in a while—and do not worry, I shall come alone.’
Elaine nodded. She had wondered about the bedding ceremony, which some men insisted on. It was humiliating for the bride, for in some cases the groom’s guests and friends insisted on being shown proof of the bride’s virginity and the groom would toss out the sheet with her blood on it to those who waited near the door. Zander would spare her such heavy jesting and she went happily to her own chamber. His friends might come as far as the door, but then he would send them away.
She allowed her ladies to help her disrobe, and dress her in a fine, silken night-chemise. Her hair was brushed and allowed to flow freely down her back and then her ladies departed. Elaine walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. She was nervous now and did not want to lie in her bed too soon lest she fall asleep.
She waited, listening for sounds from below in the hall. They were growing less and less and now it was quiet. She sat up straighter, expecting Zander would come, but the time passed and still he did not come to her. Her eyes were growing heavy. She crawled up the bed and lay against the pillows, determined not to give in to the urge to sleep.
Why did he not come to her? Her eyes would hardly keep open now. It must be almost morning? Where was he? Was it his intention to leave her waiting all night in vain?
Exhausted by the events of the day, Elaine’s eyes closed and soon she was sleeping. She did not wake when Zander entered the room just before dawn sent fingers of rose through the sky. He bent over her sleeping figure, pulled a coverlet over her and smiled, then bent to kiss her cheek. Then he placed a beautiful, late-blooming rose and a note by her pillow before turning to leave the room.
Elaine woke later than usual. She frowned as she sat up and stretched. Why had her ladies not woken her?
Of course, they imagined that she had spent the night making love. As she moved from the bed, the small piece of parchment and the rose fell to the ground. She bent to pick them up and saw the letter was in Zander’s hand, recognising it because of the document he had given her containing her wedding settlement. Elaine had not bothered to read it for she knew he would have provided for her if something should happen.
God forbid! She felt coldness at the nape of her neck as she broke the seal. Zander had written:
Forgive me, my dear wife, I could not come to you last night, as I planned, for there was a fire in the village and we thought the people were being attacked. When my men and I reached them, we discovered that it was merely the hay that had been set alight. However, when I returned to the manor, I was given a letter from the Earl of Newark. He has challenged me to meet him and that means I shall leave at first light to make the appointed time.
You were sleeping so sweetly and I did not wish to wake you. I am sorry that our wedding night was not as I planned, but I shall return to you as soon as I am able.
Your servant and devoted husband,
Zander de Bricasse
Elaine sighed as she held the rose to her nose. It had a wonderful perfume and she knew that it grew in a sheltered spot by a south-facing wall, which was why it was always the first and last to flower each year. Her mother had loved the rose, because Elaine’s father had planted it for his wife.
She would press the rose between the pages of her bible. It was a huge book of handwritten scripts in Latin, bound in leather and decorated with bright colours and gold leaf at the beginning of each page. It must have taken the monks who produced it many years to complete and was very precious. Lady Howarth had written Elaine’s birth on the first blank page and then her husband had added the name of her stillborn son. Elaine’s mother had passed it down to her and she would pass it on to her daughter if she had one.
Elaine frowned, for her marriage had not been consummated before Zander left. She felt a little uneasy, because she knew that some would not consider her truly married—and it was possible to overturn a marriage that had not been properly consummated by means of an annulment.
Who would want to overturn her marriage? Certainly not Zander or Elaine herself—besides, how could anyone but she know that he had not come to her in the early hours?
‘You are awake, my lady?’ Marion looked in at the door. ‘My lord left orders that you were not to be disturbed, even though he left at first light.’
‘I am not ready to rise for a few minutes. Bring me food and drink and I will be ready when you return—until then I am not to be disturbed.’
‘Yes, my lady. I shall tell the others.’ Marion smiled as she closed the door behind her.
As soon as she had gone, Elaine jumped out of bed. She found a little knife that she used for cutting herbs and pricked her finger, pressing it so that the blood flowed. She then sprinkled a few drops on her linen sheets and smeared the remainder on her night-chemise. Her ladies would see the stains and take it as proof that her virginity had been lost. She was not sure why she’d done it, but something had made her feel it was necessary to practise the de
ceit.
She returned to the bed and rose, stretching and yawning when her ladies brought food, ale and fresh water for her to wash. Getting out of bed, she left the covers thrown back. She saw their secret smiles and heard them whisper and laugh when they saw the bloodstains. At least her ladies were convinced that she was truly wed to Zander. Elaine did not know why that was important, but she had felt instinctively that it might be best to have proof if proof were needed.
‘I think I shall spend the day sitting quietly,’ she told them. ‘We shall embroider a new hanging for my husband’s bedchamber. We must think of a suitable theme.’
‘Lord Zander is a truly honourable knight,’ one of the ladies said. ‘We should picture him riding his horse on the way to the crusades, with the Cross before him.’
‘Yes, that is a good idea for a part of the hanging,’ Elaine agreed. ‘But I would show him being a good overlord, tilling the land and husbanding the soil of his fields.’
The ladies joined in with ideas of their own and a length of silk was fetched from the chests. Threads of all hues were matched and cut to lengths with a tiny knife from the chatelaine Elaine wore. Each lady chose her colour and they took a corner of the cloth, each to begin working out the emblems they would depict and matching the shades they would use.
Elaine asked Marion to read to them from the scriptures. Her mother’s bible was the only book she owned, though she knew that there were transcriptions of fables and love poems from France. Such volumes were rare and neither Elaine nor her mother had ever owned such a book, though she’d heard stories and poems told by minstrels or storytellers. Now and then one such man would come to the manor and be invited to tell them a story for his supper.
The day passed quietly. Sometimes, Elaine left the sewing to her ladies and went to the narrow windows of her solar to look out. As each hour passed she hoped for news of her husband, but none came. She had no idea where the meeting was to take place or what would happen, and, as the night fell softly around them, she began to worry.