“You are doing the right thing, Tom. Father would be proud of you.”
“I don’t know about that Connie, I just don’t know, but I am doing the best I can under the circumstances. I just want to keep everyone safe. Martyrdom was never something I aspired to. I’ll leave that to the professionals.”
Chapter 32
Once Constance made up her mind to marry Richard, she was finally free to acknowledge her feelings for him. She kept herself on a tight rein, knowing there was no future for them due to their religious differences and his unfortunate occupation, but now those things no longer seemed to matter, at least for the moment. Once the banns were called in church, and things were official, she was filled with a restlessness driven by impatience. If she was honest with herself, Richard was the only man she wanted to marry. She felt safe and cherished when she was with him, and the mere touch of his hand left her trembling and flustered. She had thought she wanted to marry Henry, but what she felt for Henry was like a mere puddle of emotion compared to the vast ocean she felt for Richard.
Constance knew that his desire to marry her did not come simply from a desire to protect her. She could see the way his gaze caressed her face and roamed over her body when he thought no one was looking. He had been a perfect gentleman, allowing himself to kiss her just once, when he came rushing over after receiving her note of acceptance. He brought her a gift, one that she did not expect. It was an exquisite gold locket on a chain with her likeness painted inside. She was shocked at how well the artist, who had never seen her, captured her features, and Richard admitted shamefaced that he dabbled in painting as a youth and made several sketches of her for the artist to follow. The necklace now hung about her neck, the precious metal warmed by her skin, and her affection for the man who gave it to her.
Tom had discreetly left the room when Richard came over that day to give them a bit of privacy, and Richard fastened the chain around her neck, fumbling with the clasp in his nervousness. The action brought them very close to each other, and Connie raised her face to him in smiling gratitude. Richard’s mouth claimed hers and suddenly their chaste kiss turned into something more. His tongue slid inside her mouth, and Connie was shocked to feel it exploring its depths. She tried to imitate what he was doing, provoking a response that she didn’t expect. Only Tom’s cough from the doorway reminded them of the impropriety of the situation, and forced them apart like a bucket of cold water. As Connie looked at Richard through her lowered lashes, she noticed something in his expression that seemed odd. He was slightly embarrassed in front of Tom, but there was a look of relief on his face that she didn’t quite understand.
Tom did not leave them alone much after that. Jane’s parents had generously offered to host the wedding luncheon, since both couples would be wed on the same day. Their house was large enough to accommodate their party, and they even had a big enough parlor for dancing. Mr. Simm promised to engage some players to make the wedding a lively occasion. Lady Devon declined to attend in respect for Father Francis and Mr. Horton, who were still held at the Tower, but gifted Constance a gown for the nuptials made of sunshine-yellow silk and adorned with frothy cream colored lace at the bodice and sleeves.
There was much to be done in preparation for the big day. Constance and Jane were packing their trunks for the move to their new husbands’ residences, and Tom and Richard were preparing the house for the arrival of their brides. Tom had taken over the large bedroom and with the help of Constance, tried to spruce it up so it lost its melancholy associations.
Richard was also in the process of rearranging his household. His masculine bedroom would not do for Constance, so he hired a highly respected Court decorator to come in and add a few feminine touches to his austere abode. He was pleased with the result, and hoped Constance would like the new aquamarine brocade bed curtains embroidered with a silver pattern of flowers and vines, and matching curtains at the windows. The decorator advised on reupholstering the sitting room furniture as well; using apple green damask shot with gold thread to brighten up the sofa and two matching armchairs, and changing the heavy dark curtains to a matching green. The house no longer had the stamp of a single man residing within its lonely walls.
The wedding itself was to take place on the first Sunday in August immediately after the service, to ensure that Pippa could attend. She had been a little surprised by the news of Connie’s betrothal to Richard, but embraced her sister and wished her a lifetime of happiness. She hoped it was her turn next. She confided to Connie that Anthony Babington came to see her every time he was in London, and made her passionate promises of a future already in the making. She hoped to be betrothed to him by the end of the year, and her eyes shone with excitement as she swirled around the room and spoke of plans for her own wedding. It would be a grand affair, and her new husband would take her to Court to meet the Queen and all the prominent nobles in the Realm. Phillipa was bursting with joy, and Constance couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor woman who stood in the way of Pippa’s happiness. According to her sister, the miserable hag simply refused to die and let them enjoy their newfound love.
At last the day of the wedding was upon them and Constance dressed carefully in her bedroom. She arranged her hair with care, adding a few pins with little pearls attached for decoration. She slipped on the bodice and held her arms out, as Pippa laced it in the back securing it tightly, then stepped into the skirt and fastened it at her waist. Sleeves were last and her bridal outfit was complete. Constance pinned on the brooch that Richard gave her at the center of the bodice, and examined her reflection in the cheval glass.
“Mother would be so proud, Connie,” Pippa said as she wiped away a tear. “You look very beautiful.”
“I am not so certain Mother would approve my choice of husband, sister, but ‘tis too late to think on that now. Tom should be ready to leave by now. We have but a few moments to spare until the service begins. “
Tom was already downstairs waiting, in his dove-gray doublet and breeches with a coat of sapphire-blue brocade. His white ruff looked stiff around his neck, and his plumed hat was in his hands as he looked about, nervous and excited. He was anxious to see his bride and claim her as his at last. The siblings made their way to the church where Jane would be waiting with her family, and Richard would join them with his unorthodox family in tow.
Richard’s face lit up as he saw Constance walking up the path to the church. He looked splendid in a pale-blue doublet and breeches, with a navy-blue coat and matching hat. Connie took his arm and then stepped into the dim confines of the church. Most of the congregation was already there, and they craned their necks to appraise the new arrivals. Most of them would stay after the service to witness the nuptials and give their blessings to the newly married couples.
**
Connie scarcely heard the words of the wedding service as the vicar droned on and on, but at last it was over, and she walked out into the August sunshine with her new husband. His carriage was waiting outside to take them to the Simms’s house and he helped her up, then Pippa, finally getting in himself and slamming the door. The Simm’s house was a short distance away in Cannon Street, and their servants had been up since dawn preparing the wedding feast. The trestle table was already laden with sumptuous dishes, and more would come as the celebration progressed. Jane’s parents graciously welcomed them to their home, with Jane’s plump and heavily made-up mother unofficially taking up the role of mother-of-the-bride to both girls. Constance didn’t mind. She sorely missed her parents on this day, and wished that they could have been there to see her settled in her new life.
After everyone had eaten their fill, the players struck up a merry tune in the next room, inviting people to dance. The young people paired off for the dance, while the older friends and relations stood on the fringes admiring the young, exchanging the latest news and gossip. Constance absentmindedly followed the steps of the dance, her eyes scanning the room for Pippa. She had been seated next to Constanc
e earlier while they dined, but now she was nowhere to be seen. Pippa would never miss an opportunity to dance, so Connie became mildly concerned not to see her sister among the dancing couples. The tune finally came to an end, and she slipped her hand out of Richard’s, whispering that she needed a moment. She made her way through the throng of guests to the door and out into the hallway.
There were several people standing about talking and enjoying a cup of ale, servants darting to and fro, cleaning the dishes off the table and preparing to serve the sweetmeats and fruit. Connie heard snippets of conversation and laughter over the strains of music flowing from the parlor when suddenly, she saw a door down the corridor open and Pippa peeking furtively out into the hall before darting out, looking flushed and terribly pleased with herself.
Connie was just about to call out to her, when she saw a young man discreetly follow her out. He was tall, with dark hair that fell in waves to his shoulders, his short beard accentuating his strong jaw. His claret-colored suit was of the finest quality, and the gem-studded hilt of his sword glowed in the candlelight as he passed a table holding a candelabra. Connie saw his eyes follow Pippa with admiration as she hurried down the hall and into the parlor. The young man followed her inside, but turned in the opposite direction, joining a group of men surrounding Arthur Simm. She saw him bow to Jane’s father and offer his congratulations, while Mr. Simm seemed very pleased by the new arrival and proceeded to introduce him to his companions.
The young man spent a few minutes conversing with Mr. Simm and his cronies, before excusing himself and making a show of looking around the room. He spotted Pippa standing not far away and approached her, making her an exaggerated bow and inviting her to dance.
Pippa blushed and looked at him coyly from under her lashes, before accepting his hand and joining him on the dance floor. As Constance watched her sister dance with the young courtier, she noted the intimate looks and not so accidental brushing of hands, and suddenly realized the truth. The young man was no other than Sir Anthony Babington, and her sister was undoubtedly his lover.
Connie felt her heart drop. Pippa was only sixteen and this man, for all his charm and good looks, was still married to another woman. She heard it said that he also had a small daughter living in the country with his wife. Pippa’s reputation could be ruined forever, and if their plans did not come to fruition, she might be considered too tarnished for another man to take as his wife. Connie would have to speak to Tom, but it wouldn’t be today. He was dancing joyfully with his glowing bride, oblivious to Pippa’s display of affection, and the last thing Connie wanted to do was ruin this special day for him. The news would have to keep for a little while. It’s not as if anything could be done to undo the harm already done.
It was almost midnight by the time the guests began to leave, and the new husbands were receiving slaps on the back and bawdy advice from the older men, wishing them joy on their wedding night. The guests were all looking the worse for wear, their faces shining with their exertions from the dancing, their eyes out of focus from the amount of ale and mead that had been consumed. Some of the men were not too steady on their feet, and they were being scolded by their wives as they bid everyone good night and stepped into the velvety darkness of the muggy August night.
Richard maneuvered Constance toward the door, and they got into the carriage with Agnes and William. Tonight they were treated as honored guests, and Richard made sure that Agnes had a new gown to wear, as well as shoes with pewter buckles. She was shining with happiness, and Constance had seen her dancing with John for most of the evening, their eyes locked in an affectionate gaze. William dozed off against his mother’s ample bosom, his face still covered with powdered sugar from the sweets he had eaten.
Richard raised Connie’s hand to his lips. Their eyes met in the darkness of the carriage, and Connie suddenly felt breathless with excitement and nerves. She tried not to think of their wedding night until it was time, fearing the sudden intimacy they would share. She had a vague idea of what was meant to take place, but she wasn’t sure of the details, and went from panic to longing, back to panic again, as the carriage rolled down the deserted streets. Agnes gave her a knowing look, and pretended to avert her eyes as Richard leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Constance hadn’t known it was possible to feel one’s face flaming while having ice-cold hands and feet. Was Jane feeling the same way as she made her way to their house in Carter Lane to begin her life as Tom’s wife, or was she eager and impatient to share Tom’s bed? They had known each other since childhood, and Jane was probably not as anxious as Constance was feeling in the presence of her husband, whom she’d only known for a few months and not under the best of circumstances.
The carriage drew up to the door of Richard’s house, and John jumped off the box to fling open the door and hand Connie down, followed by Agnes. He lifted a sleeping William into his arms and carried him into the house and up the stairs to his attic bedroom, as Richard followed them in, tossing his hat onto a small table in the hall. Agnes curtsied prettily wishing them a good night, her impish face full of hidden meaning as she followed John upstairs. Constance wondered for a moment if she would be having a good night as well once John stabled the horses and locked the carriage in the stable. There was an obvious attraction between the two and Constance wished them well.
Tonight, she wanted everyone to be happy, and she was even willing to forgive Pippa for snatching happiness where she could. Maybe it would all work out. After all, she never expected to find herself climbing the stairs of Richard’s house en route to his – no -- their bedroom as Mrs. Carlisle. That thought made her go cold with nerves again, and she admonished herself for being silly, and walked into the room. The chamber was bathed in candlelight, and she looked around the lovely room, taking in the large, four-poster bed with silvery blue hangings, and the heavy matching curtains at the windows. The carved wooden furniture was buffed to a sheen, the floor shiny with polish in the light of the candles.
Connie’s trunk was already standing against the wall; her nightdress laid out on the turned down bed. Agnes had taken out her silver-backed hair brush and left it on the dresser in front of the gilded mirror. Connie sat down on the low stool, covered in brocade matching the bed hangings, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed and her eyes shone in the shifting shadows of the room.
She slowly began to pull out the pearl-studded pins and lay them on the dresser one by one, before finally letting her hair cascade to her shoulders, the heavy locks released from their binding. Connie reached behind her to undo the lacings of the bodice, but found that she couldn’t reach. This was a rich woman’s gown meant to be unlaced with the help of a lady’s maid. She wondered if she should call for Agnes, when she heard Richard’s voice from the doorway.
“May I be of assistance?” He was leaning against the doorjamb, his frame all but filling the opening. He had removed his coat and doublet and was just wearing his breeches and shirt. The light of the candle reflected off the pearl swinging from his earlobe, and he looked like a storybook pirate coming to the rescue of the damsel in distress. Connie stood up and turned her back to him, giving him access to the laces. She could feel his hands brushing against her bare skin as he deftly undid the laces and took off her bodice, leaving her in her skirt and chemise.
Richard untied the skirt and it pooled at Connie’s feet as it slid down the length of her body. She was about to step out of it when Richard wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her against him. She could feel his heart beating steadily against her back as his lips brushed her neck and bare shoulder. The sensation left her weak in the knees, and she leaned into him, letting him move aside the curtain of her hair and kiss the nape of her neck. Richard slowly turned her around looking down into her upturned face. She was no longer afraid. Just filled with emotions she couldn’t understand.
Connie reached up and undid the ties of his shirt, exposing his smooth chest. She touched him with he
r fingertips, feeling the warm skin of his chest. Richard’s mouth came down on hers, making her feel weak with something she couldn’t name. He lifted her up and laid her on the bed, getting in next to her. Connie could feel the racing of her heart, as he untied the laces of her chemise, his hand pushing it off her shoulder and exposing her breast. She instinctively put her hand over it, but Richard gently moved it aside replacing it with his own. She felt his thumb caress her nipple and a strange wave of pleasure washed over her, as his mouth followed where his hand had been. She closed her eyes allowing herself to enjoy the gentle sucking of his mouth, as his hand slid up her thigh finding her secret place. His gentle fingers left her moaning with pleasure, and when he finally pushed up her chemise and made her his wife, she allowed her body to follow its age old instinct and joined him in the timeless rhythm of love.
As Connie lay next to Richard with her head on his shoulder, feeling weightless and content, he lifted her face with his finger to look into his eyes. They were dark in the shadows of the room, but she could see the joy in them.
“You do love me a little,” he whispered, smiling at her.
“More than a little.” She kissed him, wrapping her arm around his waist and feeling his manhood grow stiff again with desire. He rolled her onto her back, and as he took her again, she thought that she liked being married.
Chapter 33
July 2010
When I opened my eyes, the gentle haze of the summer morning filled the room. The sheer curtains at my window were rippling in the gentle breeze, and the sound of birdsong could be heard over the rumble of cars in the street. I suddenly remembered last night and looked over to my right. The pillow still held the indentation of Adrian’s head, but the bed was empty where he had lain. Adrian had tucked me into the comforter leaving me cocooned in its warmth.
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