The Queen's Companion

by Maggi Petton

  It was over. She was married. And Catherine was certain she’d never been more miserable than at that very moment. As she walked back down the aisle on the arm of her husband she had a vision of herself ripping off her wedding gown and running up to her quarters…to Bella. But instead, she planted a smile on her face and went through the motions of the happy bride.

  Following the ceremony, the bride and groom made a tour of the town in the royal coach. Crowds lined the streets of Montalcino and cheered as the couple rode by and waved. Periodically, Prince Ambrose tossed coins into the crowd, which generated even more cheering and excitement.

  The reception took place in the Great Hall. Before dinner, Ambrose’s oldest brother had the guests served sweet liquor and a variety of strong drinks. Once the guests found their way to their seats he stood, encouraging the guests to lift their cups in salute to the bride and groom. The hall erupted with a shout of “Per cent’anni!”

  The food and wine flowed. Children ran around collecting the mesh bags filled with candy covered almonds. Musicians filled the hall with music throughout the night.

  There was much drunkenness and dancing. Periodically, during a lull in the festivities one of the men would yell, “Evviva gli sposi! Hurray for the newlyweds!” And the guests responded with thundering applause. Even the bishop seemed to be having a good time. He sat at the head table with the bride and groom. Catherine noticed he had consumed enormous quantities of wine. At one point he leaned over to her and said, “It’s too bad that your father isn’t here. He would have enjoyed this immensely.” Catherine thought he sounded melancholy, but she determined that he was just as drunk as everyone else and dismissed the sad tone and watery eyes as the effects of too much wine.

  Nevertheless, at the mention of her father, she smiled sadly in return and responded, “He would have.”

  And while it was true that King Edward would probably have drunk himself into the night, and danced and celebrated with great exuberance, Catherine was glad that she did not have to hide her true feelings from him. She was certain she would have been incapable of deceiving her father. She was not even sure she could fool her husband.

  The queen had no intention of sharing her private quarters with her husband. There was a room just down from her quarters sometimes used for special guests. She had that room turned into a marriage suite, where she intended to spend as few nights as possible. The king was given his own private quarters across from the marriage suite.

  The marriage suite was decorated with a bed, draped with heavy curtains, a small dining area and a privy room. It was not lavish, but had a tapestry on one wall and a fireplace. The tapestry covered nearly the entire wall. It depicted a wedding scene of a bride and groom dancing amid a crowd of onlookers as servants poured wine from large jugs into smaller pitchers.

  It was to the marriage suite that the bride and groom departed the reception, accompanied by the rowdier family and friends of Ambrose.

  The newlyweds finally detached themselves from the revelry in the hall, which had not diminished, and walked into the wedding suite. When the doors to the suite closed Catherine perused the romantic setting before her, she could not help but think of Bella and it was all she could do to stifle a groan of pure sadness. The room was quiet, save for the crackling fire in the fireplace. After the noise of the hall, the quiet echoed in Catherine’s ears.

  Candles were lit, warming the room in a soft, yellow glow. Wine was poured into two goblets on the table. The bed was turned down and the linens were covered in rose petals. Ambrose removed his crown and robes, carefully placing them on the bench situated at the foot of the bed. He handed Catherine a goblet of wine and picked up the other. He lifted his goblet to her and said, “To us, my dear Catherine, and a long and happy marriage.”

  Catherine lifted her goblet in return and smiled. She had been dreading this night and now, here it was. Her stomach was in knots. After they both drank he took the goblets and set them down, too soon for Catherine. She had hoped that they might talk for a while, but he reached for her and pulled her to him. She was nervous. Bella told her what to expect, but the knowledge did not decrease her anxiety. Although she and Ambrose responded to the entreaties to kiss throughout the reception, she felt her stomach rise up into her throat as the time for kissing, as a prelude to the rest of the evening, was at hand. She attempted to say something, but he reached to hold her head in his hands and bent to kiss her. She felt his beard first and it quite startled her. Then she was aware of his lips and the sweet smell of the alcohol on his breath. His tongue began to probe her mouth.

  He stopped and looked at her and smiled, “Let’s move to the bed.”

  Standing at the side of the bed he began to undress her, and she allowed it without resistance. Her gown had no buttons or fastenings of any kind, so he bent to lift the hem of it up and over her head. Her undergarment was just as long, but tied in the front with an interlacing ribbon. He untied the ribbon and his fingers pulled the ribbon out from each eyelet in a slow, sensual motion. As the last of the ribbon came free, the garment fell from her shoulders and dropped to the floor. Her breasts were exposed. She felt awkward, vulnerable. His hands reached to cup them, and his mouth sought her nipples. After moving from her breasts, kissing his way back up to her neck, he knelt in front of her and started to roll her leggings down. As she stepped out of them Ambrose ran his hands up the inside of her thighs, then around to her buttocks. He pulled her hips toward him and buried his face in the mass of thick, black, curly fur. Catherine did not anticipate the quick inhalation that escaped her as the sensation from his beard startled her again. She did not like the scratching of his facial hair, but she forced a smile. Ambrose looked up at her and smiled in return. He stood and undressed himself.

  Catherine watched. He didn’t seem to feel any discomfort in his nakedness. In fact, he almost seemed to be showing off. What she had taken for a slender build under his garments was actually more muscular than she expected. And there was an abundance of hair on his chest, his arms and his legs. As he proceeded to remove his garments one at a time, she became more and more curious and even a little excited. She found herself anxious for him to reveal his manhood, wondering what it would look like, hoping that she would find qualities in his male member that attracted her to him in at least some small way.

  His body was solid. She detected no softness, even his buttocks were firm. She saw that he was erect beneath the last of his undergarments. His member pushed at the fabric, looking as if it were demanding release. When, at last, he pushed his leggings down, his penis nearly sprung to attention, quivering up and out, pointing at her. Catherine could not help but stare, at first in amazement, then in horror as she remembered that she was about to host this part of him within her own body. She closed her eyes and swallowed.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said gently. “Touch it,” he encouraged. She hesitated and he gently reached for her hand, pulling it slowly toward him. He guided her hand around the shaft and slowly moved it toward the base. It was hard and warm. When she had taken over the stroking for a bit he stopped her. “That’s enough,” he whispered.

  He pulled her onto the bed. His hands roamed her body somewhat frantically, while his mouth found her nipples. Bella’s hands were soft as silk on her body, his, though not rough, were firmer, stronger. They kneaded her, whereas Bella’s lightness of touch caused the tiny hairs of her body to reach up as if to close the minute gap that existed between her skin and Bella’s hand. She felt the hardness of Ambrose against her and his urgency increased. She wished he would slow down. Bella made every stroke, each kiss, every breath count as if it were the most important stroke, kiss, breath. It was all happening much too quickly for her to process her own emotional reaction to every touch. In spite of her desire for him slow down, she also just wanted to be done with it, to have the experience behind her.

  He moved his fingers between her legs, sliding them up and into her, creating lubrication before he entered her.
As he positioned himself over her she held her breath, she was afraid and suddenly did not feel ready. He separated her legs.

  There was pain, but it was not as bad as she had expected. The entirety of the event could not have lasted more than fifteen minutes. While it was not unpleasant, she was disappointed that she didn’t feel more aroused or satisfied. She did not realize until it was over, but she really was hoping for something more…for something to awaken in her that she knew other women felt… something satisfying and fulfilling. That she felt so indifferent to the experience saddened her in some strange way…especially since this relationship would exist in some capacity for as long as they both lived.

  Ambrose was already asleep beside her. Catherine lay awake for some time. Her thoughts were of Bella. Though she did not want to compare the only two lovers in her life, she could not help but crave the slow and sensual way Bella drew her into lovemaking, the teasing, talking, and the gentle, light touching. With Bella, the anticipation of lovemaking was as sensual and fulfilling as the act of lovemaking itself. She cried a little, and fell asleep dreaming of covering Bella’s lips, her mouth, her neck, and her breasts with slow, tender kisses.

  When she woke the next morning it was not yet dawn, although there was a soft light starting to illuminate the eastern horizon. Catherine looked at her sleeping husband and wondered what their life would be like. She hoped her plan to conceive a child and keep her husband at arm’s length would succeed without much difficulty. Time would tell. For now, her concern over Bella’s pregnancy was at the forefront of her worries.

  Catherine rolled onto her side and watched her husband sleep. As she did, her thoughts tumbled within her. There were times she still worried God was against her. Perhaps this marriage was her punishment. There were still times when she sought to feel God’s presence as she had before Bella entered her life. Whether it was her own belief that God didn’t accept their relationship or her fear that God did not approve, she ceased feeling God in her life as she once had. Her faith did not alter, nor did her prayer life. They were as much a part of her as her own breath. But once she acknowledged her love for Bella could not be denied, she accepted her life might be one of constant spiritual conflict. If God didn’t want her to love Bella, then God would have to remove the temptation. She could no more stop loving Bella than she could stop being queen. God made her queen. Perhaps, she argued with herself, God brought Bella to her as well. Robert’s words of so many months ago gave her more comfort than he would ever know. Robert. She smiled to herself. He always said the perfect thing when she needed a perfect saying.

  “Love is a gift from God,” he had said. And with those words she gave herself permission to let flow the feelings she had been denying for Bella. But in truth she still struggled with her decision, worrying that God had turned from her.

  As she looked at Ambrose sleeping, she wondered, if Bella had never existed, would he have made a good husband? Then she sighed. She knew she would never feel for Ambrose even half of what she felt for Bella.

  She rose, put on a robe and walked over to the window. The sun was coming up. She watched the sky turn blue, a few clouds reflecting the orange glow of the sun. Once she had given herself to Bella, she knew there was no turning back. Her love was an undeniable truth. It didn’t change anything; it simply acknowledged another part of her she had not known existed. And yet, the acknowledgement seemed only that. It was as if she finally unlocked a door within her…a door she passed time and again without noticing. When Bella entered her life she finally looked at the door and wondered at its existence. When the knocking started gently on the other side of it she ignored it. But the knocking did not go away, it persisted. It demanded to be answered. What greeted her on the other side turned out to be nothing less than water for a soul dying of thirst. Refusing to drink meant certain death. Refusing to drink was not an option.

  Ambrose woke when the sun was fully up. He saw Catherine standing near the window. “Buon giorno,” he said.

  “Good morning,” Catherine smiled at him. “You slept well.”

  “You played a role in that,” he smiled seductively. “I hope our activity last night enhanced your sleep, as well.”

  “I slept well,” Catherine replied. She couldn’t tell if he wanted to know about her sleep or his lovemaking. Either way he did seem eager to please her and that did endear him to her. She did not have the heart at this point to crush him with her plan to sleep with him only until she conceived.

  “I ordered us breakfast,” she said, indicating the table where breads, fruits, nuts, cheeses and warm ale waited. “I hope you’re hungry.” “For my wife only,” he smiled and strode toward her, pulling her to him.

  Catherine could think of nothing she wanted less than her husband’s amorous advances. But even as she struggled to think of excuses out of lovemaking, she thought perhaps it would increase her chances of becoming pregnant, so she gave in with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She did not think it possible, but it was easier the second time. It wasn’t better, or worse, just easier.

  Chapter Twenty One

  “Lady Isabella,” Robert said as Bella entered the dining hall on the morning after the wedding. “I hoped to see you today. Will you do me the honor of accompanying me this afternoon for some fresh air? I’ll order a carriage and we can ride down to the lake.”

  Bella smiled at Robert. “Your chivalry is noted…and accepted.”

  As Robert and Bella rode slowly out of the town limits and into the forest, Robert asked, “How are you, Lady?”

  “You are kind to ask. I am managing. And you, Robert, how are your wife and that beautiful son of yours?”

  Robert’s face lit up at the mention of his son. “Ah, my little Gio. He makes me laugh. I didn’t expect that. He is so comical and engaging. I truly did not anticipate such a small child could possess such a character!”

  Bella laughed, too. “He sounds delightful. I look forward to getting to know him.”

  A shadow crossed Robert’s face. “I will need to work hard to keep him so delightful….there is so much that can endanger him that I worry I may not always be there to protect him. May I confide in you?”

  Bella was immediately concerned. “What is it?”

  He told her of the episode in the bishop’s quarters.

  “I have tried to put it from my mind, though I can’t help but wonder, what if that were Gio? What if my own son were to be lured into such an unholy trap by such a wicked man? Lady Isabella, I am not weak, but I have found myself near tears when I think of such a thing happening to my own son! I believe I would murder such a man on the spot.”

  “It sounds,” said Bella, “as if you came close to doing so with the Bishop. Your restraint was admirable. And I don’t believe your feelings in this matter make you weak. Rather, they reflect your resolve to protect those you love and keep them safe. That, my dear friend, is your strength.”

  They rode in silence before Bella spoke again. “Robert, how is it that you can be so outraged by the behavior of the bishop, and yet so accepting of my relationship with Catherine?”

  They reached a small gurgling brook. Robert stopped the carriage and helped Bella down. Her movements were awkward due to her pregnancy, but she managed with his support. They walked to a spot near the brook, where he helped lower her to sit on a boulder. He looked up. A bit of sky that was visible through the trees. His eyes closed, he took a breath and exhaled it slowly.

  “I never told anyone this story. Not Catherine. Not my parents. No one.”

  Robert sat near her on a fallen tree.

  He looked at her. “Anna was my nursemaid. My first memory is of being held by that woman. I remember her smell…lavender. She was soft as down and when she held me I felt so loved and protected. She made me laugh. She loved me and I loved her. When I grew out of my need for a nursemaid I begged my mother to keep her on as my caretaker.” Robert laughed at the memory, “I am certain I wore her down with my badgering. She final
ly relented and Anna continued to care for me.

  “About the time I turned seven, Anna married one of the soldiers in the king’s guard. She still continued in her role as my caretaker, but no longer lived in the room next to mine. It remained her room, so that she could be nearby when I was ill, but she spent nights with her new husband.” Robert stopped speaking and for a moment the only sound was the wind blowing gently through the leaves of the trees.

  “About a year after she married she began to waste away,” Robert continued. “I could feel that her body was shrinking when I hugged her. Her laugh disappeared, as well. She was no longer the jovial, loving woman I had known.

  “One day, some of us were playing a hiding game. I hid in the closet in the room that was Anna’s. I left the door cracked so I could see if anyone entered. Anna came in and fell onto the bed. She was weeping. I had never heard anyone weep like that before. I wanted to climb up next to her and comfort her the way she used to comfort me, but I was afraid and stayed hidden.”

  Downstream from where they sat, a doe and her yearling appeared at the edge of the brook. The doe looked at them briefly and decided they were not a threat. The animals drank their fill, then crossed the brook with a splash and leapt away into the forest on the opposite side of the water.

  “Go on, Robert,” Bella encouraged.

  “While I was trying to think about what to do there was a knock on the door. One of my mother’s attendants, Portia, came in and asked Anna what was wrong. She reached out to comfort Anna and Anna cried out in pain. Portia removed Anna’s doublet. She was covered in bruises and scars. Portia was furious and insisted that Anna tell my mother, but she became frightened and begged Portia to say nothing. She said her husband was one of the king’s own and beyond reproach. Anna was afraid that if anyone found out about her beatings her husband would only beat her more. I could hear the hysteria in her voice.”