“How can ye be a virgin? How could ye not have told me?”
Mary curled into a little ball, not speaking to me, and I did not know what to do. A million thoughts were clamouring through my brain, and none of it made sense, so I searched for my clothing, pulling it on and striding to the door, unbolting and unlatching it and stomping through it without thinking to look if anyone was in the corridor.
It was just my luck that my Mother was walking along the hallway, and saw me leaving Mary’s room. I turned tail and fled, with my mother scurrying after me.
Mary.
It hurt. It hurt so much, how could people do this more than once? It had been bad enough when Liam had pushed himself inside, but if he had but waited, I would have had time to relax and adjust to his girth. But when I tensed up and he pulled straight out, I almost screamed again from the pain. But the physical pain was nothing when I remembered the look in his eyes. He was angry. At first I did not understand, I thought that he liked me, I thought that he desired me, and I thought that the act was supposed to be pleasurable for men? Certainly what Liam had been doing to me before he entered me had been wonderful, and it was more than I expected. I had been taught that the marital act was not enjoyable for women, and that they had to endure it because it was their husband’s right, and because that was the way that you made babies. No-one had ever told me that a man could make a woman feel so good before he did it. I had been so confused over my growing attraction to Liam, and had often felt a heat between my legs when he was around. I had thought there was something wrong with me to want a man to pleasure me there, but I had thrown caution to the winds and hoped that laying with Liam would be different from everything I had been taught. As I had discovered through my life, people often told you what they wanted you to know, even if it was not always the truth, and maybe it was not the truth that women did not often get pleasure in their marital bed. If I had someone to ask I would, but the only person that I could have trusted to tell me the truth about this, no matter how embarrassing it might be, was now gone.
As my mind turned to D’arcy, the memories came flooding back.
At first I had thought I was dying. I woke up one morning, having just turned twelve, to find blood all over the sheets. My screams brought the woman who had cared for me since my father had dismissed the last woman, and she shushed me, telling me that I did not want anyone to know that my courses had begun. At my confusion, she explained to me what they were. She told me that once every four weeks until I was an old woman, I would bleed for a few days. The only times I would not bleed, was when I was with child. She told me that usually the first sign that I was going to have a child was the absence of the monthly course. I recoiled in horror, thinking that I would now have a baby, somehow all this blood would make a baby begin inside me. She laughed at me and told me that was not how babies were made, but that I should now never go anywhere alone with boys or men, as they could put a baby in me now that I was a woman. By this time I was hysterical, nothing made sense and after everything she had said, I was afraid of all the boys and men in the keep, as I did not want a baby.
She did not explain things properly to me for a few months, because I would not listen to her after that. I had liked my last maid servant, she had been kind and almost motherly, which was probably why my father dismissed her. He did not want me having a friend in the keep, for he obviously had plans for me. So he employed women who were less than sympathetic to the motherless child that they were looking after, and who did not try to explain anything to me in terms that I could understand. So I grew detached from everyone, and the woman – I couldn’t even remember her name later – stopped her small efforts at being helpful. The day that I finally allowed her to explain to me how men put babies in women was the day that it mattered – my wedding day.
My father had been told that my courses had begun, and had immediately begun searching for a husband for me. Without any close female relatives to plead my case, no-one was able to dissuade him from his course of action. I gathered the courage to tell my father that I did not want to marry, and he hit me.
“Stupid girl”, he screamed as he stood over me, where I lay cowering on the floor, holding my cheek. “Do you think I am going to feed you and clothe you forever? The only use for a girl child is to make a good alliance, and you are old enough to be married now”.
“But father, I’m only twelve, I don’t want to get married, I’m afraid. What if he beats me?”
“What if I beat you? You will do what you are told, I am your father and you cannot defy me. Your mother was barely older than you when she married me, it’s the way things are done”.
I cried at that. I knew that my mother had died shortly after having me. I didn’t want to die.
Three months later, with new finery in a trunk, I was packed into the wagon and transported to the keep of the man who would be my husband. I had at first tried to defy my father, but he locked me in my room and refused to feed me, and every time he came near me he beat me, but never again around the face. He did not want my new husband to be repulsed by me. My reluctance did have some effect though, because it took him so long to break my will that some of the suitors lost patience and looked elsewhere for brides. I was happy about that, as the few I had met had scared me. They were all so old, and looked at me strangely. After three months I gave in. Even if my new husband starved me and beat me, that could not be any worse than what my father had done to me I reasoned.
While dressing for my wedding, Elsie told me those things that she should have told me earlier, and I realised that I had probably made a big mistake. It seemed that my husband could do a lot worse to me than my father had done. Apart from him owning me body and soul, and being allowed to beat me if he wanted, there was also this other thing that Elsie told me about, she told me that wives had to let their husbands do it to them. Elsie asked me if I had noticed that boys and girls were different, and I said that of course I did, that boys were bigger and hairier than girls. Elsie rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath. She probably would have taken more time to explain things to me, but there was a knock at the door and we were being called to the ceremony, so she grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye and told me to be brave.
“You are so young to be doing this, but that is the way of the world. Your husband has a thing between his legs called a cock. He will want to put that into the place between your legs, the place where the blood comes out every month, men enjoy this. Women usually do not, depending on how gentle their husband is. Since you are so young, I doubt you will be ready for this, but you can’t refuse your husband. When your husband has taken enough pleasure from your body, he will deposit his seed into you, and that is how he will put a baby in your belly. Now, I wish we had more time, but we don’t, so that is the best I can do. Remember, not only can’t you deny your husband, but you should welcome him to your bed, for if you do not, he might find his pleasure elsewhere, and then he won’t need you any more”.
I felt like throwing up. It sounded so disgusting. I hadn’t even met my husband yet, and I could only imagine that he was old and revolting like those men my father had paraded before me. I couldn’t imagine anyone doing something like that to me and I looked around for a place to run away to, but we were now in the chapel and I could not escape. As I approached the altar, two men stood up. One was really old and mean looking, and I gulped back the vomit, too scared to even throw up. The one next to him was much younger, not much older than me, and he smiled at me kindly. I began to have hope.
His name was Edmund. He was fifteen, so he was three years older than me. He talked to me very kindly during the feast after dinner, and when everyone was talking to each other and not paying attention to us, he leaned in to me and whispered:
“Don’t be afraid. I didn’t want to get married either, but I am the only son and my father wants heirs. I don’t want to frighten you, and I will try to make this as easy for you as I can”.
&n
bsp; I looked at him with tears in my eyes. He was the kindest person I had met for a very long time, and even though I still had to do this disgusting thing with him, at least he wasn’t one of those old horrible men, and he didn’t look at me like they did. I didn’t think he would beat me, so I could have been married to someone far worse. During the meal, I saw Edmund glance over at another table, and saw another boy there who looked about the same age as Edmund. He was sitting down, but looked tall and gangly, and he still needed to fill out his frame and his face.
“Who is that?” I asked Edmund, flicking my eyes at the boy, who seemed to be watching us.
“That’s D’arcy Lescelles. He has been fostering here, but he is going home after our wedding. He is a good friend of mine and I wish you had been able to get to know him, I think you would have liked him too”.
I thought so as well. D’arcy looked kind, but the men on his table did not. I thought he might be like Edmund, a good person in a mean family. Like Edmund, like me.
When it was time to retire to the marriage bed, there were lots of ribald comments made, none of which I understood, but I could tell by the laughter that they were talking about what we were about to do. My face was flaming in embarrassment, and I looked down, not able to meet anyone’s eyes, especially Edmund’s, until we were in our room. Edmund pushed the door shut against the press of wellwishers, and dropped the bolt across the door. I stood mutely in the middle of the room, then decided that I would have to get this disgusting business over with, because I was very tired and wanted to go to sleep, but would have to let my husband do that thing to me first. I took off my clothes, still not looking at Edmund, and got into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin.
Edmund was standing in the middle of the room, looking very unsure of himself, and I remembered that he was not much older than me, maybe he had not done this before either.
“Have you ever done this before, Edmund?”
“No, Mary, I haven’t”.
I sat up in bed, careful to keep the covers pulled up to my chin, and smiled.
“I’m so glad. Do you know what to do, because I really don’t. Can you try not to hurt me please? I know I’m not supposed to try to stop you, but I’m really scared”.
Edmund looked at me for a few moments, then moved around the room blowing out the candles.
“I will do my best Mary. I’m a bit scared myself, but you have to promise me something”.
He sat at the side of the bed and took one of my hands.
“I lied to my father, and you can’t tell him. When the betrothal was arranged, he sent me to London to get ready for the marriage. I didn’t know that meant that I should visit a brothel, my father expected me to learn what to do with a woman. When I got into the bedroom with the woman, it was just so awkward, that I couldn’t go through with it. She walked into the room in front of me, and took off all her clothes, and all I could think of was that she had been with a man just before I entered the house, and she would be with more men straight after me, and I just didn’t want to do it. I have heard that such women often have diseases, and I didn’t want to catch one, or to give it to my bride when I got married, so I paid her to tell people that I did it, but I didn’t. So you can’t tell my father that this is my first time too”.
I squeezed his hand with mine. I had been feeling sorry for myself because I had been forced into this marriage, but so had Edmund. Even though he wasn’t the one who had been forced to leave his home, his family was probably no better than mine, so we would stand together against them.
Shyly, Edmund started taking off his clothing, and slid into bed next to me. We lay there for a while then Edmund rolled over to face me. He leaned down to kiss me and I closed my eyes as he pressed his lips to mine. I felt his thin, cold body against mine, and I lay there as rigid as a post. Even though Edmund was much kinder than I had expected my husband to be, this was still going to be difficult. Finally Edmund climbed on top of me and got me to open my legs, but nothing happened. I could feel something soft rubbing against me, but it was not what I expected it to be. Finally Edmund rolled off with a sigh of frustration, and I lay there, confused. Was that it? I hadn’t felt anything, surely if Edmund had put something of his inside me I would have felt it. I lay there for a bit longer, then felt Edmund roll away from me.
“It’s been a long day Mary, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this, go to sleep and we will try again tomorrow”.
The next morning, I woke up as Edmund tried to slip out of bed. Through my lashes I watched him as he dressed. He kept his back to me most of the time, but at one time he turned to look in my direction and I saw it. It was a little, flaccid thing, and I couldn’t work out how he expected that to go inside me. Was there something wrong with me that my new husband didn’t want to make me his wife in more than name?
Once dressed, Edmund approached the bed, and I pretended to be just waking up.
“Get dressed, Mary. Now, you have to listen to me. We have to pretend that we consummated our marriage last night. If my father suspects that we did not, he might get the marriage annulled and send you back to your family. I like you Mary, and I don’t want to be married to anyone else, and I don’t want you to have to marry anyone else. I think we can be friends, and maybe try again when there isn’t so much pressure on us, will you co-operate with me?”
I nodded, then dressed quickly. As I turned back to the bed to make it, Edmund gestured to me to leave it, then he took a small knife from his pocket. My eyes widened. He made to cut his hand, then changed his mind.
“I had better do this where it doesn’t show”, and he lifted his tunic and undershirt and made a small cut on his abdomen, squeezing the blood onto the blade of the knife, then dripping it onto the sheets. He then resheathed the knife and squeezed his cut skin together. I found a cloth and wadded it up, pressing it against his skin until the blood stopped flowing, asking him what he was doing.
“You are so innocent Mary”, he said, cupping my chin. “Often the first time a woman lays with a man, he hurts her a bit and sometimes she bleeds. Finding blood on the sheets the day after a wedding is considered to be proof of a bride’s virtue. I just want everyone to think that we did this last night, and it was the first time for you”.
When the blood stopped, we started towards the door, and as we opened it, people barged in and headed straight for the bed, laughing rudely as they saw the blood. They did not seem to notice that it was fresh, and hadn’t been there since the night before, the mere presence of it was enough. One of the women stripped the linen from the bed and took it away.
Over the next few months, we tried a couple of times again, but Edmund could not complete the act. I thought there must be something wrong with me if my husband did not get any pleasure from me, but Edmund seemed to enjoy my company, so over time, we formed a strong bond, an unusual bond. We were friends who slept in the same bed, and that was all. The biggest problem I had was that Edmund’s father grew increasingly angry as time wore on and I did not grow big with a child, but Edmund managed to convince him that as I was so young, my body was probably not ready for a child, and it would be a good thing if it took a while for me to have a baby.
One thing that Edmund was not good at, was swordsmanship. His father had employed a master swordsman, one fresh home from the Holy Wars, to try to teach him, but Edward did not have the skills. Eventually, his father sent to the Lescelles household asking for D’arcy to return, saying that D’arcy had shown good promise with the sword, and maybe Edmund would learn better with someone his own age to share lessons with.
So D’arcy returned to the Le Bruin household, and I was surprised by the changes that a few months had wrought. He had started to fill out, not only had he grown taller, but he had also grown broader. His face had changed too, the childish lines had started to change and give hints of the man that he would become. For a brief time I considered myself infatuated with him, and made myself do much penance at the chapel, praying on my knees for gui
dance. I was a married woman, yet still a virgin, and I was now thirteen. A couple of times I had tried to touch my husband between his legs and he had pushed me away. Even though I loved my husband, I was starting to be curious about boys, and D’arcy was a very good looking boy. He and Edmund were both now sixteen, and I had overheard some of the serving girls talking about D’arcy, so I knew that what I was thinking about him was not unusual. One of the girls even joked that she had seen him bathing in the lake, and that he was hung like a horse, and I understood what she meant. I had seen one of the stallions as he pranced on the other side of the fence from a mare in heat, and I had seen the appendage that hung almost to the ground. If this girl had seen D’arcy naked, then she was obviously impressed with the thing in between his legs. Maybe that was the reason that Edmund could not make me his wife, maybe there was something wrong with his?
As D’arcy was a guest of the house and not a servant, he had a chamber in the family wing. His room was next to ours, which was on the top floor of the keep away from everyone else. One warm day I had been in the herb garden, working with the gardener and learning herb lore. I had ended up with a lot of dirt on my kirtle, so thought to go back to my room to change and to rest before dinner. As I was about to enter my room, I heard a groan from D’arcy’s room just beyond. I thought that maybe he was hurt, or ill, but was unsure whether I should enter, as it was not really proper. The groan came again, louder this time, so without thinking, I opened the door and stepped in, opening my mouth to ask if he was well. My hand flew to cover my open mouth as I did not understand what I was seeing straight away.
Taken by a Highland Raider Page 9