by Maggi Petton
“Don’t worry about the likes of Marie,” Robert soothed, “you know servants will always make up stories for their own entertainment…with or without your assistance. The Bishop, however, is a different story. That is a problem that needs to be addressed. With your permission I will see if I can find out what, exactly, the Bishop is saying about the matter.”
They were mounting their horses to return to the castle. “Robert, you are so much more than my protector.” Catherine truly felt that, with Robert watching out for her, she need not fear. “Your friendship is indispensible to me. Do whatever you like where the Bishop is concerned.”
They returned to the castle sweaty, exhausted and in Catherine’s case, more relaxed than she had been in days.
She was in sore need of a bath and ordered hot water brought to her quarters. When she entered her quarters Bella looked up from reading.
“What happened to you? You are a sight?”
“Robert and I went riding and decided to practice with our swords.” Catherine did not see any need to hide this truth from Bella. “I have ordered Marie to bring bath water, I am disgustingly filthy. Will you help me out of this chain?”
By the time Catherine was out of her chain and clothing, Marie had filled the tub.
“Thank you, Marie. I can manage on my own. I just want to soak a bit. Would you just put up the screen?”
Marie put up the screen and left the quarters.
Catherine prepared herself to slip into her bath, trying hard to ignore the fact that Bella had followed her to the tub side of the screen and clearly had no intention of leaving. Bella drew up the stool that sat nearby and waited as Catherine submerged her body into the warm water.
“It seems strange to be sitting here as you bathe,” Bella said after a few moments. “Marie is the one who has always ministered your baths. Are you certain you don’t want me to call her back?”
It was a few moments before Catherine answered. Her mind screamed at her to answer, “Yes! Call Marie!” but her heart and her body wanted nothing more than to invite Bella to stay.
“No,” she finally said. “I am content to sit and soak for a bit.” Catherine leaned back, closed her eyes and sank down a bit into the tub.
“Let me wash your back,” suggested Bella as she stood, and then knelt beside the tub. She encouraged Catherine to sit forward as she gently washed her back with the water and soap-soaked sponge.
Catherine’s protests died before they even reached her tongue. She allowed the warm water to soothe her. But, eventually, Bella’s hand came up from the water without the sponge. Her hand cupped water up to the base of Catherine’s neck and her fingers tenderly slid down Catherine’s back in long, sensuous strokes. Catherine was helpless to do anything but allow this sensation to continue. Finally, Bella reached around and pulled Catherine to lean back. Catherine resisted, but finally leaned back. As she did, Bella’s face was fully enveloped in Catherine’s hair; their faces drew alongside one another. Bella’s breath was on Catherine’s cheek, her nose and forehead lightly touched the side of Catherine’s face. Neither moved. Bella’s hand started a slow slide around to Catherine’s middle…
Catherine gasped and stood. She grabbed for her toweling, wrapped herself in it and disappeared into her bedroom, closing the doors behind her. She was so close to giving in to the temptation that was Bella that she frightened herself. It would have been so easy to allow Bella to continue to touch her. “I must be more diligent,” she thought angrily as she dried herself vigorously.
Bella stayed kneeling at the tub for some time, her heartbeat quick and strong. When, at last, her breath returned to normal, she went to her pallet and wept.
Chapter Seven
The tension between the two women was palpable the next day. Catherine spent as much time as possible away from her quarters. When they were together their conversation was strained and awkward. Neither Catherine nor Isabella brought up the subject of Bella’s health, or her need to leave, but it hung heavy between them.
Two days after the incident in the tub, Catherine was preparing to leave the quarters to meet with Robert. Her hand was on the doorknob when Bella stopped her.
“Except for the riding clothes I have nothing to wear for travel…” Whatever else she intended to say remained unsaid.
If Catherine could have looked into Bella’s face, she would have seen that it was washed in waves of grief. But Catherine did not turn around, for her own grief had overtaken her. She was afraid that if she looked into those eyes that had mesmerized her for all these weeks that she might lose her resolve, take Bella into her arms and never let her go.
“I will have Marie bring some things for you to try.” Catherine was polite, but determinedly distant. She opened the door. As she started to step through, Bella’s voice cut through her.
“I wish you had not found me. It would have been easier if you had left me to die!”
Catherine, hesitated, but forced herself to leave. Once on the other side she clutched at her heart with one hand while stifling a cry with the other. If she had turned and gone back through the doors of her quarters she would have found Bella tearing at her gown and weeping on the floor.
“Majesty,” Robert addressed her and bowed as she entered the courtyard, “I was just preparing to come to your office.”
The castle grounds had several courtyards. The one Catherine entered was the inner courtyard, located between the castle and the outer bailey. It contained a knot garden and hedges on the southern side, and fruit-bearing trees to the western edge. Stone benches were scattered at intervals. Catherine found Robert in the midst of the knot garden talking to one of his soldiers.
“I prefer to walk today, Robert.” She turned almost absentmindedly toward the fruit trees.
He fell into step beside her. “We are no closer to finding the escaped prisoner. I’ve directed my men to abandon the search for now.”
Robert waited for Catherine to respond, but she continued to walk as if she had not heard him.
“I believe that I may be close to finding the culprit who helped him escape, however.”
When there was still no response from Catherine, Robert continued, “I have learned that a new, young soldier assigned to the keep may have befriended the prisoner. I intend to question him when he returns. His grandmother died and he was given leave to return home to bury her.”
“Fine,” was all Catherine managed.
Robert stopped. “What is it? I have never seen you so distracted?”
“What? Oh, nothing. I’m tired, that’s all. Can we meet tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is the day I have planned to take you and Lady Isabella to the flower fields. Have you forgotten?”
“Oh. Yes I did forget.”
“Do you still wish to go?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “We’ll be ready in the morning.”
When Catherine returned to her quarters late that afternoon, she told Bella that she had arranged for Robert to take them riding.
“There is a meadow just on the other side of the forest. It will not be in bloom this time of year, but perhaps you can imagine it in all of its yellow and purple glory in the spring.” Her voice was cool, detached. She did not meet Bella’s eyes.
Equally distant in her reply, Bella responded. “It sounds lovely. I look forward to it.”
They took their evening meal in near silence. Neither ate much. Following the meal, Catherine picked up a book and sat by the fire with the book in her lap.
Bella picked up a book as well and sat opposite Catherine. Periodically a page turned.
Catherine stood. “I neglected to take care of something. I shall return in a while. You need not wait up for me.”
Bella merely nodded.
Catherine could not bear the distance and discomfort between them. She went down to the garden to be alone with her sadness. The garden was three stories beneath her quarters. She strolled among the dead and dying flowers, and finally sat on a
bench near a favorite rosebush.
“I feel myself dying, too,” she thought as she crushed the last of the dried rose petals in her hand. She fell to her knees. “I am lost,” she prayed. “Show me the way, I beg You.” As had been the case since the first night she realized her true feelings for Bella, she heard and felt nothing from God. Eventually, she pulled herself up again and lowered her head, holding it in her hands, and wept.
When, eventually, she looked up at the window of her quarters. Bella was on the balcony watching her.
By the time Catherine returned to her quarters Bella was already in bed, her back to the room. Catherine started over to her but stopped herself, deciding to let Bella sleep. She went into her bedroom and closed the doors. She did not see Bella’s tears sliding down, creating a puddle on her pillow.
The morning of their outing dawned crisp and clear. It was a perfect October day.
As Catherine, Bella and Robert made their way through the forest on horseback, Robert made several attempts to converse.
“Lady Isabella, how does it feel to be outdoors after being confined for so long?”
“Quite refreshing, Robert. Thank you for making the arrangements.”
As neither woman made any effort to speak with each other, or with him, Robert gave up and eventually rode along with them in silence. The leaves fell in great numbers, silently surrendering, shuddering toward their destiny. The air was cool as they made their way in and out of the shadows of the trees, but when the sun found its way through in small, open patches, it warmed and relaxed them a bit.
Emerging from the tree line of the forest lay a small rise. The horses made for the top. Spreading out before them a shimmering blanket of dying and dead wild flowers trembled in a soft breeze. As far as the eye could see the land seemed to billow with yellow-orange waves. In the near distance was a blue lake. The Apennines already snowed capped, rose up behind the lake. Isabella cried out as her horse stopped at the top of the hill.
“I have never seen anything so glorious!”
“You have been confined for too long,” said Catherine with a smile. “In the spring, when the fields are in bloom, it becomes truly magical.”
“I should like to ….” Bella stopped short.
Robert led the way to a rocky area where they could sit. Once he settled the women with blankets and some refreshments, he took the horses away a bit to graze. When he returned, Isabella was wandering out toward the lake. Catherine was watching her, but her face was creased with pain and sadness.
“You admire her,” he said to Catherine.
“She is a remarkable woman.” Catherine leaned back against the large bolder that was behind her.
“She seems to be healing well. You have been good for her.”
“Her body is healing, yes. But she remains tormented. That will take time.”
Robert knelt beside Catherine. “Something torments you, as well, my queen.” The way he said it, it was more an inquiry than a statement.
“Speak freely, Robert, you know I value your counsel.” But as soon as the words left her mouth she felt her stomach rise up into her throat. She tried to ignore the fear.
It was a while before he spoke again. As if he were weighing what needed to be said.
“She has changed you.”
“It’s true. How can one be witness to such courage and strength and not be changed? She watched her family be brutally murdered…”
He interrupted her. “That is not what I mean.”
“I know.” Her response was only mildly irritated, but it did not hide the anguish she felt.
Robert looked at Bella wandering the field, and then turned to Catherine. “I have known you since we were babies together at our mother’s breasts. You know I feel you are more sister than cousin.” He reached up to push his hair back. Still watching Bella, he said, “I have long worried you would spend your life so devoted to your people that you would never find the comfort and happiness that another could bring.” He paused and waited. Catherine did move while he spoke. She, too, continued to watch Bella walk through the field. Finally, he said, “When you are with her you are happy.”
Working to disguise her true feelings, she replied, “I do not look forward to her leaving. She is well enough to return home.”
“She has nothing to return to. And I see the way she looks at you. She is in no hurry to leave.”
Catherine looked at him. “What are you saying?” she demanded as her fear rose up to meet her.
“Only that there is something special between you, something that goes beyond friendship.”
“How can you even suggest such a thing?” Catherine stood and started pacing. “It cannot be! Why entertain such blasphemy?”
“Who is blasphemed by your feelings? Tell me.” Robert continued to kneel, hoping she would calm and sit again.
“It is unnatural, and you know it is! How can I be an effective ruler if I cannot follow God’s laws…if I allow sin to rule me?” Her feelings were beginning to jumble within her. The anger, so evident just a moment ago was mixing with her fear. Hearing her own words echo in her ears made them sound insipid.
“That is your bishop I hear coming out of your mouth,” he scoffed. Now he stood and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he talked. “He is the last one to speak of what is natural and what is unnatural! Why there is barely a boy to be found in this kingdom not put upon to polish that enlarged sword beneath his robes! That pompous ass would twist scripture around to confuse his own mother if it gave him power over her. Since when do you allow someone like that to cloud your own thoughts?”
“My thoughts are clouded enough without the assistance of anyone else, I fear.”
After a while, he continued, “You taught me the importance of finding my own clarity. You have always found yours in your own soul, a soul that more exemplifies the teachings of Christ than that Bishop of yours. You are strong and compassionate and you understand the importance of just and fair laws. You spend your life in sacrifice to your country and your people. And you have always done so by keeping God in your heart. What does your heart tell you now? There you will find your clarity.”
“What if the devil has stolen my heart?” Even as she said this she knew how ridiculous it sounded. Her feelings were shifting, again, but she could not tell if she were winning, or losing the battle inside of her. Feeling almost beaten, she sat back down on the blanket.
“You think she is Satan?” he asked mockingly.
“No, of course not. But perhaps she has the power to bewitch.”
He looked out at Isabella, then again at Catherine. Even as children he had played this role with her. Struggling to make sense of conflicts that warred within her, she often challenged him to arguments only to help herself eliminate those thoughts and feelings that did not quite set right with her. But always, the thoughts and feelings that discomfited her most, were the ones she defended most strongly. Finally, he said, “If she is a witch, her powers are sorely limited given the sorry state in which we found her. Tell me, my queen, has she requested items to create special concoctions in your quarters? Have you overheard her chanting words that have no meaning to you?” He chuckled.
A smile crept across her face. Still her eyes had not left Bella who seemed to float across the field.
“You love her,” Robert continued softly, all the mocking gone from his voice. “And if I am any judge of these things, she has fallen in love with you, as well. Love itself is bewitching. That may help explain the unusual feelings that haunt you.”
Her eyes began to glisten with tears.
“And that kind of love can only be a gift from God,” he said.
As he finished speaking he looked up and saw Isabella making her way back toward them. He left and walked out to be with the horses.
“This place is special…it heals my spirit to be here,” Bella said as she approached.
“Bella, sit with me.” She took Bella’s hand and together they sat. Cathe
rine had her back propped against the flat edge of a rock, her knees bent before her. Isabella sat to the side of Catherine’s bent legs and faced her. In a motion both fluid and natural, Bella rested her cheek on Catherine’s knee and their eyes found each other. Her hand found Catherine’s hand again and she held it gently in her own lap.
“You are nearly well,” Catherine said.
Bella visibly paled and her free hand reached up to her stomach and she lowered her head. Catherine had to bend her own head down to see Bella’s face. She could see that Bella was grimacing.
“What is it, Bella? Are you in pain?”
Bella opened her eyes and looked down at Catherine’s hand in her own. She lifted the hand and tenderly kissed the back of it. “I am fine, dear one.” The rustling of the dying leaves pulsating in the breeze was the only sound for some time. “And, yes, I am well enough, thanks to your generous ministrations.”
“Have you given thought to what you will do when…?” Catherine’s voice trailed off. Her eyes also fell on their hands resting in Bella’s lap.
“When I am well enough and no longer need your care?”
“I…yes, I suppose that is what we need to consider.”
Bella took Catherine’s hand in both of hers now. “I no longer need your care, Catherine. I am strong enough to walk and travel. My bruises and wounds will soon only be painful memories.” Catherine stopped breathing and Bella proceeded cautiously. “I may no longer need your care, but I find myself craving it, in spite of my healing.” At this she raised Catherine’s hand again and pressed her lips to the backs of Catherine’s fingers. Both women looked up.