“I can't imagine that Bonnie wouldn't find it easier starting over in a new land,” said Arden.
At which point, Sam peered around the entranceway. “I can't speak for Bonnie, but I think it's a wondrous idea, Mistress Arden.”
After a few merry laughs segued into a quiet pause, Robert stood up and offered his hand to Arden. “May I lead you upstairs now?” he asked in a low voice.
She took his hand and nodded, familiar warmth flooding her as they climbed his curving staircase together. To Arden's surprise, her newly betrothed did not show her into his own chamber, the room in which they had first made love. Instead Robert led her further down the hallway, stopping her at the last entranceway to the left. She looked into a room more modest than his own, but one that glowed with the light of at least fifty tapers and one lighted fireplace. Vases of white roses and gillyflowers stood in the corners and on the tops of cherry wood chests, and the floral scents mingled with the beeswax of the candles. The chamber held a bed, but a small one with plain, white bedclothes, pushed into a corner like an afterthought. In the center of the floor stood the largest tub Arden had ever seen, made from the same polished cherry wood of the chests. Steam rose from the surface of the water, and she glimpsed white rose petals floating there as well. Near the tub sat a chair, and a table piled with fresh white cloths. The table also supported a basin of water.
“You don't think I'm clean enough for you?” Arden whispered, slightly hurt.
“No,” Robert replied. “I don't think you're clean enough for you.”
“I don't understand.”
“I'll explain,” said Robert. He sat down in the chair, chose the longest of the cloths from the table, and tied it over his eyes. “But do not waste the hot water while I do so,” he continued. “Come over here, please, and let me help you with your lacings.”
Arden obeyed him from a sense of complete bewilderment. She walked around the tub and turned her back to him, guiding his hands to the fastenings of her dress.
“I don't mind if you look, you know,” she said. “It's not as though you've never seen me before.”
“I want to give you privacy,” he replied. “You'll understand as we continue.”
As Arden undressed and immersed herself, Robert began. “You know, I've never been what anyone would call a pious man. And I said some horrible things to you in regard to my beliefs about the ultimate fate of Brian Malley. Don't think on that, please, Arden,” he said, before the awful memory had completely resurfaced for her.
“But I am going to have to be holy enough,” he continued. “What I want to do is too unorthodox for Father Fernaut―who is, incidentally, one of the few men of any church whose faith and sincerity have earned my respect. He must even sanction this, somewhat, for he blessed the water in the basin to make it holy.”
When Arden could wrench her gaze from the strange sight of Robert, sitting blindfolded, hands peacefully in his lap, she noticed a little shelf built into the tub. For soap, but no soap rested there. Still, she reached for another of the cloths from the table. Robert must have heard the water move, or felt the slight breeze her wet arm made, for he interrupted himself. “No, please, Arden. I will do that in a moment. Just have a good soak for now.”
“All right,” she replied, as puzzled as ever. The water had almost scalded her upon entry, but now felt perfectly soothing to all her muscles. Her eyes would have closed, had she not been roused by the sight of Robert rising from the chair and standing beside the tub. With minimal faltering, he picked up another cloth from the table.
“Arden, love,” he began softly. “I don't know how to explain to you. It has always seemed like you gave yourself freely to me, always seemed as if you loved me.”
“I do love you, Robert,” she said, twisting her neck a bit to look into his sightless face. Covering his flashing dark eyes made her notice the sensuality of his lips even more than usual. She wanted to kiss them, but she knew better than to interrupt his intense mood.
“But you only came to me at first out of fear,” said Robert. “Fear of another man's lechery and abuse. You should have found another father in him, a protector and a counselor. Instead, the miscreant robbed you of your innocence.”
“No, he—” Arden protested.
“I did not say your maidenhead,” Robert anticipated. “Oh, love, I will never forget that gift. No, I meant your true innocence. The trust of a child, of a young girl growing into a gentlewoman in the shelter of her parents' love. Instead that Fanatick, that poor excuse for an animal, forced you to learn early how evil men can be.”
Hearing Courtenay's words, feeling the warm water caressing all of her skin, Arden let herself remember. She remembered being the girl Robert spoke of, the girl who grieved for her dead father. The girl who'd hated Treadwell on sight, but who had harbored some small hope in her heart that maybe this stern-looking man her mother had brought into their home could ease the ache of her father's loss. Instead, he had called her wicked, while touching or grabbing at places that made her feel scared and wrong. She felt the tears fill her eyes, and tried to swallow the hard pain in her throat.
“Because of him,” Robert continued, “you came to my bed. Because of me―and I am most heartily sorry, Arden― you married Malley.”
“But I loved Brian,” said Arden, through her tears. “He was my friend!”
“Of course he was,” Robert murmured soothingly. “But you didn't really want to marry him, did you?”
“No,” Arden whispered.
“Then,” said Robert, “because of both me and Mr. Malley―I know he didn't mean to die, but he did―you again became vulnerable to the very monster you'd fled. Because of him, you had to give your body to yet another man. A man― no matter his royalty, his kindness, his prowess―who loved you no more than the queen he shamed with you. Worse, a man whose death you had to try to abet, all because of that heinous Treadwell.”
Arden sobbed openly now, though she tried to keep her cries quiet, matching the still mood of the room. Everything Robert said struck her as true, though she had never thought of the many people and events as connected to each other in quite this way.
“Even I, Arden,” said Robert, placing the cloth unerringly into the basin of water, “I who love you now with all my soul, made love to you fully intending to marry another, and not much caring about the circumstance that drove you to me. I am so heartily sorry for that, Arden.” He pulled the cloth, dripping, from the basin, and squeezed the excess water from it with an easy motion of his strong right hand. “A friend has recently made me see the intrinsic sameness of what Treadwell has done to you and what his cruel fellow did to Bonnie.”
A sharp cry forced itself from her. Surely, surely, what had happened to her did not match the wrong to Bonnie?
“You are strong,” Robert continued, “and the hurt far more gradual, so you seem to bear up better. Nevertheless, you deserve to find cleansing, healing. I want to help, not as someone especially holy, but as any man created by God. As a man who loves you and places your heart and soul above his own.” Arden managed to get her sobs under control as she watched him fold the cloth and smooth it into his right palm.
“This is holy water in this basin and on this cloth,” he said, moving closer to her. He reached with his left hand until it grazed the hair on top of her head, and kept it there. This oriented him to the rest of her, and he brushed the cloth in his right hand gently across her forehead. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,” he said softly, “I cleanse and sanctify this brow, and the mind behind it. May it be free from worry or fear.”
He dipped the cloth in the basin again, just breaking the surface of the water. “Close your eyes, please, Arden,” he requested. She obeyed him, and a moment after felt the gentle dab of the soft, wet cloth upon each eyelid. “I bless these beautiful emerald eyes. May they see only beauty and goodness until they look upon the face of Jesus Christ in Heaven. Let them remember no images of evil or ugliness.”
Arden let her eyes stay closed, feeling herself relax even more deeply than she had under the mere influence of the hot water. She found herself believing in Robert's voice, believing he had the right to say these words over her. God is listening to him, she thought, and answering our prayers. For Arden realized her own heart echoed each of his lines, offer-ing a silent amen.
She knew, rather than saw or heard, that he dipped the cloth into the basin again. She soon felt it on her lips. “I cleanse and sanctify this mouth,” said Robert. “May it only kiss when and what it wishes. May nothing come out of it but laughter, and words or sounds of joy.”
After another pause for dipping, Arden felt him run the cloth over each of her arms in turn. The water from the basin had not been heated, and the contrast with that of the tub sent small, pleasant shivers through her.
“I cleanse and bless these arms and hands,” said Robert. “May they embrace with love, and hold their children. May they never again need to push away the evil and unwanted.”
Another pause, and Arden, eyes still closed, felt the coolness of the cloth upon her breasts. “Bless and sanctify these lovely, lovely breasts,” Robert said with fervor. “Let them suckle more children, Lord, if it be thy will. And if it be your will, Arden. Let no one caress them without your fullest, most loving consent.” He then moved the cloth to the space between them, pressing it to her beating heart. “Holy Father, bless this part most of all. Heal this woman's heart and restore it to her whole, to love with as she wills.”
Amen, thought Arden. She sighed, but she sighed contentment. Next, she felt him run down her left hip with the cloth, then plunge his arm into the tub. He had followed the curve of her leg all the way to her foot. Then she sensed his movement as he walked to the other side of the tub and repeated the sequence on her right side.
“Cleanse and bless these legs and feet,” Robert intoned. “Let them never need to run away, but carry her only where she wills at the pace she wills.”
As Arden breathed amen, she heard Robert wring out the cloth and felt him smooth it out upon the side rim of the tub. She opened her eyes in time to see him choose a fresh one from the table and dip it in the basin. “Stand up, please, Arden,” he asked. She did. The fire in the room prevented the skin she exposed to the air from getting chilled.
Grazing her body lightly with the cloth, he found his way unerringly to her mons. She felt herself flood with even more warmth, and she leaned in and kissed him. He started at first, because of his blindfold, but then he returned it. He kissed her sweetly, as though he exercised much control in order not to invade her mouth completely.
“O Lord of Heaven and Earth,” he whispered, when his lips drew away from hers. “Bless and sanctify Arden's womanhood. Let her know it is returned to her, let it never be used without her own desire.”
They said “amen” aloud together this time, then Arden put her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.
“Arden, my love, may I complete this blessing by rousing you, and bringing you release?”
“Oh, yes!” she agreed, still in a whisper so as not to break the holy spell still upon the room.
Robert knelt beside the tub and grasped her buttocks with strong fingers. Arden reached down and took the cloth from his eyes. He adjusted quickly to the light of the fire and the candles, and she gasped with joy at the love she saw reflected back at her. Still looking up at her, he put his mouth to her mons. He parted her lower lips with his tongue, lightly licking the nub at the cleft. Liquid fire shot through Arden, and she cried out wordlessly. He held her hips tightly, supporting her so she could not possibly slip. Gently he sucked at her jewel, occasionally tonguing it with a staccato, fluttering rhythm. Arden writhed within the confines of Robert's mouth and hands. Such subtle sensations, yet so intense. Like lightning through the core of her being, yet with echoes and aftershocks spreading out in waves from the centers of her womanhood and her heart. “Robert! Robert!” she cried. “Oh, Robert! Oh, love!” As her climax began drawing to a close, Robert lifted his face to her slightly rounded belly and held her until her shudders ceased. Then he rose and embraced her fully. He pulled a dry sheet of cloth from the table and placed it around her shoulders.
As he stepped away from her, his robe shifted, and she caught a glimpse of his manhood standing rampant, hard against his own flat abdomen before the silk fell back into place. “But what about you?” Arden asked, breathless.
“Never mind about me,” Robert replied, lending his arm to help her step out of the tub. He held her gaze with his own. “If you wish, bring everything you've gotten back with you on our wedding day, and offer it to me. Then I shall be well satisfied, Arden, love.”
Chapter Sixty-Three
Arden did. The ceremony took place one month later, upon one of Charles II's best ships, bound for Mary's Land. A certain Papist priest, having realized that continuing his secret ministry in England had become far too risky, happened to be sailing with them. Father Fernaut had expressed much joy at the prospect of officiating. As with Arden's previous marriage to Brian, the nuptials were generously recorded in an Anglican cathedral―this one the same that had recorded the King's proxy marriage to the Queen in Portsmouth.
Arden, Robert, Helena, Bonnie, and Sam had also been joined by Margaret in the decision to explore the New World. Margaret, however, would be settling with relatives in the Quaker paradise of Pennsylvania. They all, however, left friends and family behind them who would be unable to attend the actual wedding. So the soon-to-be newlyweds invited these friends and family to a small celebration at one of the taverns near the wharves of Portsmouth. Edward and Lord Courtenay graced the party, as well as Edward's be-trothed. The Davenants came, as well as the Bettertons, Kitty Brinks, and most of the Duke's Company. Danny and Esther Malley showed up also, and Madame immediately offered to do something about the latter's eyebrows. Margaret’s parents, aunt, uncle, and cousin attended, too.
The only real surprise came when Robert steered Arden over to greet the Davenants. Madame stepped aside, revealing a somewhat older woman whose dark hair, piled in a bun, was heavily streaked with gray. She looked at Arden, apparently frightened of her response.
“Mama!” cried Arden, running up and hugging her fiercely.
Her mother dissolved in tears. “You forgive me, Arden?”
“Yes,” said Arden simply. She could never understand how her mother could have married Treadwell, but she knew it had been with the best intentions towards her daughter. “How did you get here?” she asked. “Did you go to London for … ?” Arden trailed off, but everyone in earshot knew what she alluded to. Various hunks of Treadwell, including his head, rotted on pikes in various outposts of London. Arden had not tried to see any of these warnings to would-be regicides.
“No,” her mother said. “I got your letter, about his apology, but—” She began again. “Your Mr. Courtenay wrote to me. He told me everything you've endured. I had no idea, Arden, truly! If I had—”
“It's all over now, Mama,” she said. As she had since Robert led her through the cleansing, she believed it. She knew her mother struggled not to sob. Her own eyes brimmed with tears, so diversion seemed wise. “So what do you think of my Robert?” She squeezed his hand tightly and turned to hold his gaze for a moment. “I think he's amazing, to have known to bring you here.”
“He is a fine man indeed,” her mother agreed. “But you deserve no less.”
“Have you seen your granddaughter yet?” asked Robert. “She's toddling around here somewhere.”
“A beautiful child,” she replied.
“Your mother will have plenty of time to get to know Helena,” Robert told Arden. “She has agreed to come with us. We shall introduce her as Mistress West,” he finished wryly.
“Oh, how wonderful!” Arden exclaimed.
The celebration continued for a few more hours. Then the travelers separated from those planning to stay. The voyagers' luggage had already been
loaded onto the ship.
As the ship carried them from Portsmouth, Arden and Robert stood before Father Fernaut. They made their vows before the others, not sharing the ceremony with Bonnie and Sam. That pair, however, looked hopefully at each other dur-ing the solemnities as though their time would come, some other day.
When the priest had pronounced them man and wife, they hurried off to the private stateroom Robert had arranged. “I've waited for this a long time,” he whispered to his new wife.
Arden felt the heat suffuse her face. “I have, too,” she said.
*****
Later, long after dark, the newlyweds put on clothes and walked together to the ship's prow. They looked out into the night skies, knowing Mary's Land lay ahead of them.
“There, we'll have all we ever wanted,” Arden said to her husband.
“Wherever you are, I have all I ever wanted,” replied Robert. “But if you are content there, I can ask for nothing more.”
THE END
Afterword by the author
A dear friend suggested I write a foreword to this second, self-published edition of Arden’s Act. After some consideration, though, I realized it should if anything be an Afterword, keeping the novel in its proper place, front and center.
Even though I will always be grateful to the now-defunct Keith Publications for choosing to put Arden’s Act out into the world for me so that I can always say I had a novel chosen for publication, I was honestly excited that all my publication rights were coming back to me. I saw this as a great opportunity to remake the book exactly as I wanted it. Initially I only intended to change the font to Times New Roman and indent all the paragraphs, but I must admit I immediately found myself tinkering a little. The story is essentially unchanged, except for one tiny factual error that would have shamed me as a registered nurse if I had allowed it to remain.
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