by Alexa Aston
“Here.” Her mother unfastened a gold brooch with pearls and rubies interspersed and pinned it on Aline’s gown hear her left shoulder.
“But that’s your mother’s. You wear it every day,” Aline said, surprised the French king’s army had even left it to her.
“I did. You’ll be leaving me. Maybe forever. I want you to have something to remember me and your family by. Your heritage. And so part of me will be close to you every day. I hope that gives us both comfort.”
She put her hand over the gift. “Thank you. I, too, will wear it daily. What’s to happen to all of you?”
“Because of your father’s rank, King Philip is allowing us return to England. Your father is to begin work reinforcing Pontefract Castle.”
Her heart lifted. They’d get to leave this hated land “Great news. West Yorkshire isn’t very far from Cheshire.”
Where her home used to be. She had to move forward.
“I’ll write often.” Tears gleamed in her mother’s eyes. They’d been reunited after their longest separation only to part again in mere hours.
“So will I.” She felt tears gather, but shook her head to clear them.
Apollo put a hand on her shoulder. She tensed. It didn’t feel like a controlling burden, but as if she were no longer alone.
“It’s time.”
Chapter Ten
King Philip loved his surprises.
Meeting the family of the soon-to-be wife he barely knew just before the ceremony began and without warning was disconcerting, to say the least. Roger de Lacy. The man who’d refused Aline admittance. But then, Philip’s men had done the same. Maud, surprisingly tall and regal. And Aline’s younger siblings, cheerful and enthusiastic. Fortunately, they didn’t seem tarnished by the siege or attack. Maybe they were too grateful they’d survived and would go free.
Though they’d showered him with gratitude for saving their daughter, he could tell they weren’t overjoyed about what was to come, and Lady de Lacy cried more than he thought a mother would on her child’s wedding day. He appreciated that they didn’t openly convey their displeasure. This day should be as special as possible for Aline.
He hadn’t wanted to intrude on her private moments with her mother, who she hadn’t seen in weeks and wasn’t sure she’d ever see again. But the sooner they were wed, the sooner they could leave.
As everyone took their places in the king’s hut, apprehension nagged like a crow’s continuing caws. Would Aline find a way to prevent their wedding again to show her parents her devotion to England and so she could leave with them? He tried to tamp down any sadness, but he ached for them all. Who would choose a forced wedding with their enemy?
He relaxed his shoulders when her turn came for the vows and she spoke in a cool, calm voice that matched her expression. He couldn’t fault her demeanor, yet a trickle of disappointment ran through him. He’d foolishly hoped that she’d gift him with her beautiful smile at least, rather than mere acceptance. Gladness would have been better still.
But then, he shouldn’t expect her to feel any more than he did. What was that, exactly? He was definitely looking forward to being alone with her again, in their bed. Looking forward to celebrating their wedding night.
Apollo slid Philip Augustus’s ring on her finger. Her cold hand shook in his. He burned to know her thoughts, and wanted to keep hold of her hand to reassure her all would be well. When she tugged slightly, he gave hers a slight squeeze, then let go. She clasped her hands together as if in prayer. For what? Freedom? Happiness?
The sapphire ring looked stunning on her small hand, despite representing just one more item he owed the king, binding him further into his service. Apollo didn’t like being beholden for everything, from bride to position to hearth and home. He had to find a way to make his own mark.
Aline and her family spoke little during the meal of porridge, cheese and eggs, not exactly the wedding feast he was sure she’d have wanted. Her mother barely ate, though the quality and quantity had to be better than she’d seen of late. Her father turned so red Apollo feared his head might explode. It couldn’t be easy to sit at his enemy’s table and partake of his food after watching his eldest handed to a man not of his choosing. Or preferred rank or ancestry.
Against his will, her father’s perusal intimidated him. That was a first he didn’t like.
At length he heaved a sigh and stood, and all at the table joined him. “Thank you all for sharing our wedding.”
The effort of putting on a public face would soon end, and he and Aline would learn to make their way as man and wife. Alone, away from the king and the soldiers.
The king chose that moment to arrive. “Bien, you’re still here. I wanted to wish the couple well.”
Her father tensed. Her mother moved to his side.
“I’m here for droit de seigneur,” the king continued. “Or if you prefer Latin, jus primae noctis.”
Every head snapped up, every jaw dropped. Even the king’s soldiers looked astonished. The king wished to exercise his supposed right to sleep with the bride?
He laughed. “Look at all of you! I jest. Not that she isn’t lovely. I wanted to lighten the somber mood. I won’t even require payment of the fine in lieu of having her.” He laughed again, and the others joined somewhat tentatively.
“I bid you all adieu.”
They all bowed and traversed the short distance back to his hut. Which he couldn’t wait to leave.
Aline didn’t weep as she hugged her parents and bid them farewell, but her mother did. Her gaze followed them as they went inside and closed the door. He’d make sure she’d see them again, somehow.
They prepared for the night in silence, as they had the other nights. As if nothing had changed. But everything had. They were husband and wife, bound by God and man.
He didn’t want to pressure her or cause her to fear him, but consummation was essential to make the marriage valid. And he wanted to, badly. The sounds of her moving about his hut as he turned his back heightened his desire.
“What happens now?” Her voice came out a whisper. “I thought you were putting on an act during the ceremony like I was, but you seem as calm and content with our marriage now as you did then. You told me you wanted to stay a messenger so you could travel the world and not sleep under a roof every night, much less the same roof. Neither of us wanted children born of two loyalties. Now you, too, are trapped, but you don’t seem upset or concerned. Are you now glad of all the king is bestowing upon you? What changed?”
You changed me. The realization struck him. From the first moment she’d awoken in his bed, he’d wanted her like a lovelorn swain pining for a maiden in a bard’s tale. Getting to know her made him want her all the more. He could love her, perhaps was already falling for her, if the emotions swelling his chest were any indication. One-sided feelings weren’t enough. He wanted her to want him, too. How could he encourage her to desire and love him in return?
“We are husband and wife. And that’s how we shall proceed. In every way.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t hesitate or look askance. “As you wish.”
He didn’t want a resigned wife, he wanted a willing, nay, an ardent one. Dare he ask what she wished?
“Aline, the only ways for us not to get married were to run and hope we didn’t get caught, lie, or, God forbid, sacrifice our lives. None of these extremes suited me. So I decided to hope for the best. I don’t know what it’s like to be a lord. Because it’s not a title I ever sought and don’t know much about except from my father’s perspective as a tenant, I leapt to the conclusion I wouldn’t enjoy it and would feel constricted by the rules of being noble. The duties mark a huge change from what I’m used to. But, new and different doesn’t mean bad. What if this role suits me, and I enjoy it more than being a messenger? What if I’m afraid of what I don’t know? Only time will tell.”
“I don’t know you well, but you seem brave. Willing to take on challenges. You’re no
t a coward.”
He nodded his thanks. At least his wife thought well of him. That was a start. “I loved being a messenger, though like every position it has its flaws. Often I was glad to be by myself, instead of at court, where I find chattering lords and ladies to be cloying. There’s nothing like the peace and glory of being surrounded by stunning landscapes and birds singing. Especially when I rode through my favorite regions of France, such as the southeast near the mountains known as the Alps. The vistas take your breath away.”
“But I endured many nights on the road delivering an urgent message during terrible storms, deluged by driving rain or heavy snow, soaked and freezing. I would’ve been most grateful for less urgency, and for a companion because I felt so alone. So insignificant.
“If something dire had happened to me, I might not have been found for weeks. I could’ve died, alone. For no one knew exactly where I was. Plus, the need to do my job well pressured me to continue on when I was tired, rather than seeking shelter or even enjoying a respite by a stream on a beautiful day. I knew the recipient awaited the news I carried and the king needed or preferred a response as rapidly as possible. When lives were at stake. Or large amounts of money. How could I spend the night at some home I passed or linger over a meal knowing that?”
Aline sat on the bed. She looked tired and frail.
The day had taken its toll.
Apollo’s voice had lost the caring tone she’d come to appreciate.
“Thank you for explaining. While I understand your line of attack, I just don’t know if I can do as you suggest. If one feels cold, one can sit by a fire or put on more clothing. I don’t know a reliable way to change how I think. How I’ve thought for years.” Aline despaired over their latest impasse. “I’m sorry. I will try to focus on what we can have. I don’t want to be miserable and make you miserable, too.”
“That is something, at least. We don’t have to decide everything tonight. The hour is late. And we have a long journey tomorrow.”
We. The word had a nicer ring than she’d expected. A glimmer of hope raced over her. Was it possible she could enjoy this new life rather than endure it?
They both stared at the bed, clearly thinking the same thing. Consummation was at hand. The mere thought of him inside her again made her women’s parts tingle.
He reached for her, showering her with deep kisses she was surprisingly eager to return. For long moments, they stood together, tasting, exploring.
“Aline, I’m so ready for you.” His hand slid under her skirts and up her thigh. Knowing where it was headed made her moan in anticipation. “Ah. I see you’re ready, too.”
His finger stroked her wetness as her hips tilted toward him.
“I want to see you,” he said. “All of you.”
They shed their clothing. His appreciative gaze combined with her admiration of his form eradicated any embarrassment.
“Feel me, too.”
She complied. When she squeezed him lightly, he groaned. Mmm. What an enticing sound. She couldn’t wait to make him do that again.
Apollo led her to the bed. Soon he was inside her, pleasuring her more than she’d thought possible. He found his release shortly after she crested.
Early the next morning, she stretched, content as a cat replete with cream. Making love had been more wonderful than their first encounter. Perhaps because they were more familiar with each other’s bodies. Perhaps in part because they were man and wife.
If only they could remain in this happy state.
Apollo slept on beside her, so handsome in repose in the brazier’s faint glow. Hers. Her woman’s parts tingled.
Was she brave enough to touch him and see if she could rouse him so they could experience the delicious sensations again? Not yet. Perhaps in the near future. At least they shared their enjoyment of lovemaking. Was that enough, when there were many kinds of compatibility? They still had each day to get through, seeing if they could build a different life in a country still foreign to her before they could enjoy the night. And would she still enjoy the nights if the days were difficult?
King Philip’s ring—her ring—gleamed. Though she admired it as a piece of jewelry, it burned her finger hot as a brand. How would she bear wearing and seeing it for the rest of her days, knowing who else had worn it and how she’d come by it? She slid it off for a moment of relief, as if to return to her former self.
Something was engraved on the inside. The word fidélité. Loyalty. To whom, though? Her new husband and his country? Or herself and hers? Or to them as a couple? Had the king meant to send her a message that disloyalty would be punished?
So many questions. And she wasn’t sure she would like the answers.
They left just after dawn.
“I’m so glad to put that hut and the camp behind us,” she said.
As they traveled north and west, Aline had to admit the wintry landscape held a certain appeal, though she doubted she’d love it as much as the gently rolling hills of Cheshire where mist hovered in the valleys. England. Would she ever set foot on her native land again? She tamped down worries about what their manor, or manoir, would be like.
Apollo had offered to find a litter for her, but that would slow their progress, and though she’d never ridden as far as they needed to go, she wanted to start their marriage spending hours together, not apart.
The air was cold but not brutally so. She’d never be as painfully chilled to the bone as when she was stuck in the ravine with nothing but branches and dead leaves to shield her day after day. Furs kept her warm, and when they stopped to rest, Antoine built a fire. And they had plenty of food and other supplies, as well as two soldiers to guard them. Spending the night in a tent wasn’t an ordeal because Apollo was there to hold her.
Yet with each mile traversed, she felt she left more of her former self behind. Who would the new Aline be?
“We’ll be meeting my parents and sister later today,” Apollo said. “I sent word ahead so we won’t shock them with our news upon arrival, but I’m sure they’ll still be surprised and very curious.”
“Oh.” She was shocked by his news. Could she refuse? So much to figure out in their new relationship. “I assumed we’d visit our new home before meeting your family.” Now also her family. Her Norman family.
“I would’ve appreciated knowing sooner, or being asked if I wanted to meet them today.”
He rode closer and took her hand. “Forgive me. I can act in haste. And I’ve never had to consider anyone’s needs but my own and those who I serve. I’ll keep that in mind going forward.
“My family happens to be on the way. I’d like them to get to know you. They’ll be sorry to have missed my wedding.”
Which her family did get to attend. She wanted to be strong and show Apollo she was making her best effort, but so many changes at once overwhelmed her resolve. Travel drained her energy.
“And I want you to get to know some Normans you might like, or at least not hate. In addition to me, that is.” His smile tugged at her heart. “We can’t help where we’re born or what we’re taught. But we can help what we do with it.”
“As before, your wisdom makes sense. But if you told me to run a mile, I couldn’t do it even if I wanted to. Fitting in and being comfortable in the land of my enemy may be beyond my reach.”
Each time they took a step forward, they took a step back.
Rouen was a bustling city also on the River Seine. She should be more interested in exploring and learning about it, as it was near her new home. Another day. Tired of riding, she barely noticed the sites and buildings they passed. The faster they could visit his family and get to that new home, the better.
At last they halted in a street lined with wooden houses.
Aline knew she was dusty and dirty. There was nowhere to amend her windblown hair. She longed for her maid to style it as it should be, not the simple coiffures she’d figured out how to do herself.
Apollo helped her dismount. His smile di
dn’t warm her heart, nor did the brief moment in his arms improve her mood.
His family’s home was simpler than her family’s, of course. She’d been blessed to live such a comfortable life for so many years.
Three people stood as they entered the small solar on the second floor, a tall man in brown, clearly Apollo’s father, a woman, also tall and thin with a narrow face, and a pretty woman near her own age. Both wore plain gowns of good wool.
“Aline, I’d like you to meet my mother Celsa, my father Paris, and Artemis. I’m happy to introduce all of you to my bride, Aline de Norville.”
She started. She hadn’t yet heard her new name spoken aloud.
“Bienvenue.” His father’s mouth turned town. Clearly he wasn’t any happier to meet her than she was him. At least they had that in common.
“Beinvenue, Aline.” His mother looked as if she’d swallowed an insect. And called her by her given name, though Aline outranked her.
“Welcome, Sister.” Aline could see the resemblance between the siblings. Artemis had Apollo’s golden eyes and a smaller version of his nose. At least she acted as if she enjoyed meeting her sister-by-law.
“Je suis hereux de vous recontrer.” The acceptable response flowed from her lips. She wanted to be pleased to meet them, and for the first time wished her Norman accent was better. “Artemis, Apollo has told me of your children. Will I get to meet them, too?”
She’d seek any topic of conversation that wasn’t about her or their new marriage.
“Not today. Soon, I hope.” Her few words of English were slow and halted.
They hadn’t been offered a place to sit or any food or drink as her family would have done. Perhaps Norman traditions were different. Or perhaps Apollo’s family didn’t want them to stay long.
The three turned to Apollo and started asking questions so rapidly she could barely keep up with the translations.