“I am a married woman, Stephen. What you are suggesting is dishonorable.”
He smiled at her much the way one might smile at an innocent child. “Love has nothing to do with honor and dishonor. It has to do with feeling alive instead of dead. You will realize that soon enough.”
“I hope that you are not so bold as to ask for the proof of my love now. I wed in several days.”
“Nay. I would not give a merchant reason to upbraid or harm you, although the thought of him having you first angers me. Marry your mercer as you must, darling. But know that I am here.”
“I am an honest woman, Stephen. And I do not think that you love me at all. I think that this was a game to you, and still is. A game in which you lose nothing but I risk everything. I will not play in the future.”
He began protesting and reaching for her. Footsteps in the anteroom stopped him. She turned to the new presence at the threshold.
Good Lord, was there no mercy?
Morvan filled the doorway, gazing at them both. For one horrible moment an acute tension filled the room.
“Percy, it is good to see you,” Morvan said, advancing into the chamber. “You have come for the tournament?”
“Aye,” Stephen said, easing away from her.
Morvan eyed them both again. “I assume that you are wishing each other happiness in your upcoming marriages.”
She nodded numbly. There was no point in trying to explain away Stephen's presence. She saw in her brother's eyes that he had heard the gossip.
“It is a strange thing about my sister's marriage, Stephen,” Morvan said as he paced to the hearth. “It is said that the King sold her for money, and I believed that too. But I have lately wondered if this didn't come about for another reason. Perhaps he sought to salvage her reputation and my family's honor, and not disgrace it.”
She watched them consider each other. Not now, Morvan, she urged silently. It doesn't matter anymore.
“I must be going, my lady,” Stephen said, turning a warm smile on her. She gestured helplessly and watched him stride across the chamber.
“Sir Stephen,” Morvan called from the hearth. “It would be unwise for you to pursue this.”
“Do you threaten me?” Stephen hissed.
“Nay. It is no longer for me to do so. I simply tell you as a friend that it would be a mistake. Her husband is not your typical merchant. And I have reason to think that he knows well how to use the daggers that he wears.”
Stephen smirked in a condescending way before leaving the apartment.
She faced her brother's dark scrutiny. He looked her up and down, and searched her eyes with his own.
“It is customary, sister, to wait a decent interval after the wedding before meeting with one's old lovers.”
She had no response to that calm scolding.
“And since you spent the night in that man's bed, you are indeed truly wed now.”
“David. His name is David. You always call him ‘that merchant’ or ‘that man,’ Morvan. He has a name.”
He regarded her with lowered lids. “I am right, am I not? You slept with him. With David. ”
It was pointless to lie. She knew he could tell. She nodded, feeling much less secure about that decision now that she understood David's motivations.
“You must not see Percy again for a long while.”
“I did not arrange to meet Stephen.”
“Still, you should be careful. Such things are taken in stride if the woman is discreet or if the husband does not care, but you have no experience in such deceptions and your merchant does not strike me as a willing cuckold.”
“I told Stephen that I am not interested in him anymore.”
“He does not believe you.”
He was just trying to help her. In this his advice was probably as sound as any man's. He'd certainly bedded his share of married women.
“Do you despise me?” she whispered.
A strained expression covered his face. He strode across the space and gathered her into his arms. “Nay. But I would not have you be this man's wife, and I would not have you be Percy's whore. Can you understand that? And I blame myself because I did not find a way to take you away from here.”
She looked into his dark eyes. She read the worry there and thought that she understood part of it.
“I do not think that being David's wife will be so bad, Morvan. He can be very kind.”
A small smile teased at his mouth. “Well, that at least is good news. I am glad that he is accomplished at something besides making money.”
She giggled. He tightened his embrace and then released her. “Take your meals with me these last days,” he said. “I would have this time with you.”
She nodded and watched sadly as he walked away.
She never doubted that her brother had requested her attendance at meals because he wanted her company. She would be leaving him soon, and a subtle nostalgia hung between them at those dinners and suppers, even when they conversed merrily with the other young people at their table.
Morvan's presence beside her had other benefits, however, and she suspected that he had thought of them. Stephen did not dare approach her in the hall while Morvan stayed nearby, and the peering, glancing courtiers received no satisfaction to their curiosity about the status of that love affair.
Everyone knew. Stephen had only to rise from his bench and sidelong looks would watch to see if he would speak with her. It became abundantly clear that the court believed an adulterous affair with Stephen was probably inevitable at some point. She got the impression that many of these nobles accepted the notion with relief, as if such an affair would be a form of redemption for her. The marriage to the merchant would just be a formality, then, and much easier to swallow and even ignore.
Aye, Joan had gossiped. When Christiana confronted her, she tearfully admitted it. Just one girl, she insisted. Christiana had no trouble imagining that small leak turning into a river of whispers within hours.
She filled the next days with preparations for the wedding. Philippa came to the apartment to survey her wardrobe on Saturday and immediately ordered more shifts and hose made for her. A new surcoat was fitted as well. Haberdashers descended so that she could choose two new headdresses. Trunks arrived to be filled with linens and household goods for her to bring to her new home.
She spent most of her time in the apartment managing this accumulation, but her mind dwelled on David. They had agreed that he would not come before the wedding because of their time-consuming preparations and because he had his own affairs to put in order. All the same, she expected him to surprise her with a visit. It would be the romantic thing to do, but when he came it would not be for that reason, although he might pretend that it was. She expected him to check that Stephen had not persuaded her to run away or do anything dishonorable. He would want to make sure that his plan had worked.
He did not come. Saturday turned into Sunday and stretched into Monday. She began to get annoyed.
She felt positive that David knew that Stephen had returned. How could he just leave her here to her own devices when another man drifted about who wanted to seduce her? A man, furthermore, with whom she had been in love? Was he that sure of himself? That sure that one night could balance the ledger sheet of a woman's heart? Didn't he worry about what Stephen's presence might be doing to her?
She pondered this sporadically during the days. At night she chewed it over resentfully. But in the dark silence of her curtained bed, her recriminations always managed to flow away as other thoughts of David would flood her like some inexorable incoming tide. Images of his blue eyes and straight shoulders above her. The power of his passion overwhelming his thoughtful restraint. Her breasts would grow sensitive and her thighs moist and the thoughts would merge into wakeful dreams during a fitful sleep.
She awoke each morning feeling as though she had been ravished by a phantom but had found no release.
David did not come, but others did
. Singly or in twos or threes, the women of the court approached her.
Aye, Joan had gossiped, and not just about Stephen. It seemed every lady felt obliged to advise the motherless girl who, rumor had it, was unbelievably ignorant about procreation.
Some of the servants joined in. While she bathed on her wedding day, the girl who attended her boldly described how to make a man mad with desire. Christiana blushed from her hairline to her toes. She seriously doubted that noblewomen did most of these things, but she tucked the tamer tidbits away in her mind.
Getting her dressed turned into a merry party with all of her friends there. They gave her presents and chatted as the servants prepared her. Philippa arrived to escort her down to the hall. The Queen examined her closely and reset the red cloak on her shoulders. Then with her daughters beside her, and with Idonia, Joan, and several other women in attendance, Queen Philippa brought her down to the hall.
Morvan awaited them. He wore a formal robe that reached to mid-calf. His knight's belt bound his waist but no sword hung there. “Come now,” he said, taking her arm. “The King already awaits.”
The doors swung open. She stepped outside.
She froze. “Oh, dear saints,” she gasped.
“Quite a sight, isn't it?” Morvan muttered dryly.
The yard was full of horses and people and transport vehicles. She saw Lady Elizabeth entering one of the painted covered wagons, and other feminine arms dangling from its windows. Knights and lords waited on horses decked out for a pageant. King Edward, resplendent in a gold-embroidered red robe, paced his stallion near the doorway. A long line of royal guards stood waiting.
The presence of so many knights and nobles touched her. They came to honor her family and, perhaps, to reassure her. They also came for her brother's sake, and she was grateful.
The extensive royal entourage, and the obvious instructions that everyone should follow the King in parade, were another matter.
The King gestured and three golden chariots drove forward.
“Oh, dear saints,” she gasped again, watching this final grandiose touch arrive.
“Aye, one is for you. The Queen herself will ride with you,” Morvan explained.
“This retinue will stretch for blocks. All of London will watch this.”
“The King honors you, Christiana.”
She turned away from Edward's smiling gaze and spoke lowly into her brother's shoulder. “I am not stupid, Morvan. The King does not honor me, he honors London. He does not bring Christiana Fitzwaryn to wed David de Abyndon. He brings a daughter of the nobility to marry a son of the city. He turns me into a gift to London and a symbol of his generosity to her.”
He grasped her elbow and eased her forward. “It cannot be undone. You must be our mother's daughter in this and handle it as she would have. I will ride beside you.”
She let him guide her to the front chariot and lift her in. She bent and whispered in his ear. “I will think the whole time how I am not the virgin sacrifice they expect.”
The parade filed out of the yard, led by the King and his sons. By the time they reached the Strand, thick crowds had formed. Inside the city gates it got worse. The guards used their horses to keep the people back. Slowly, with excruciating visibility, they made their way through to St. Paul's Cathedral.
Morvan lifted her off the chariot. “Well, brother, don't you have anything to say to me?” she asked as they approached the entrance. “No words of advice? No lectures on being a dutiful and obedient wife? There is no father to admonish me, so it falls to you, doesn't it?”
He paused on the porch and glanced through the open portal into the cavernous nave filled with noisy courtiers and curious townspeople.
“Aye, I have words for you, but no lectures.” He bent to her ear. “You are a very beautiful girl. There is power for a woman in a man's desire, little sister. Use it well and you will own him and not the other way around.”
She laughed. Smiling, he sped her down the nave.
David waited near the altar. Her heart lurched at the sight of him. He looked magnificent, perfect, the equal of any lord in attendance. The narrow cut of his long, belted, blue velvet robe enhanced his height. The fitted sleeves made the exaggerated lengths and widths of the other men's fashions look ridiculous and unmanly. Beautiful gold embroidery decorated the edges and center of the garment. She wondered who had convinced him to agree to that. The heavy gold chain stretched from shoulder to shoulder.
Morvan handed her over. Idonia fluttered by, took her cloak, and disappeared. David gazed down at her while the noise of the crowd echoed off the high stone ceiling.
“You are the most beautiful girl whom I have ever met,” he said, repeating the words he had spoken in the ivy garden.
She had a long list of things to upbraid him about, and some deep hurts and misgivings that worried her heart. But the warmth in those blue eyes softened her, and the sound of his beautiful voice soothed her. There would be time enough for worry and hurt. This was her wedding and the whole world watched.
An hour later she emerged from the cathedral with a gold ring around her finger and David de Abyndon's arm around her waist. The chariot awaited but Sieg, looking almost civilized in a handsome gray robe, brought over a horse.
“You will ride with me, darling. With these crowds, those chariots may never make it to the Guildhall.”
“You might have warned me about all of this, David,” she said as pandemonium spilled into the cathedral yard and surrounding streets. “It was like the prelude to an ancient sacrifice.”
“I did not know, but perhaps I should have expected something like this. Edward loves ceremony and pageantry, doesn't he?”
She wasn't convinced. He always seemed to know everything. She glanced askance at his face as he lifted her onto the saddle and swung up behind. His bland acceptance of Edward's behavior irked her, but then he hadn't been the girl on public display.
“The King must think very highly of you to have brought such an entourage,” she remarked dryly.
“I would be a fool to think so. This had nothing to do with you or me.”
They joined the flow of mounted knights and lords inching toward the Cheap. David's arm encircled her waist, his hand resting beneath her cloak. She reached up and touched the diamond hanging from a silver chain around her neck. It had been delivered while she dressed. “Thank you for the necklace. It went perfectly with the gown.”
“Edmund assured me that it would. I'm pleased that you like it.”
“Edmund?”
“The tailor who made your wedding garments, Christiana. And your betrothal gown. And most of your cotehardies and surcoats over the last few years. His name is Edmund. He is one of the leading citizens of the town of Westminster and an important man in his world.”
She felt herself blush. She knew the tailor's name. She had simply forgotten it just now. But David was telling her that she should know the people who served her and not think of them as nonentities.
Her chagrin quickly gave way to annoyance. She didn't like it that one of the first things her new husband had said to her had been this oblique scolding.
Other reasons for annoyance marched forward in her mind.
“I thought that you would come to see me,” she said.
“We agreed that I would not.”
“All the same, I thought that you would come.”
She felt him looking at her, but he said nothing.
“He is back at court,” she added. “But, of course, you know that, don't you?”
“I know.”
That was it. No questions. Nothing else.
“Didn't you wonder what would happen?” she blurted angrily. “Are you that damn sure of yourself?”
“To have come would have insulted you. I assumed that the daughter of Hugh Fitzwaryn had too much pride and honor to leave her marriage bed and go to another man, especially after she had seen the truth about him.”
“All the same …”
She would have liked to ignore the shiver of excitement that his lips and words summoned, but her body had been betraying her during the nights too and now it responded against her will.
She forced herself to remember his calculating seduction to claim his property. She resented selfconfidence.
“What makes you think that I will choose to spend the next three days that way?” she asked.
“You are my wife now, girl. Surely you know that you only have choices if I give them to you.” He pressed his lips to her temple and spoke more gently. “You will find that I am a reasonable master, darling. I have always preferred persuasion to command.”
Beneath the full flow of her cloak, he reached up and caressed her breast.
Her body shook with a startling release of pleasure.
She glanced around nervously at the faces turned up to them in smiling curiosity.
He stroked at her nipple and kissed her cheek. She felt the urge to turn and bite his neck. She twisted her head and accepted the deep kiss waiting for her and those wonderful sensations flowed through her like a delicious sigh of relief.
All of London watched.
“David, people …they can see …” she whispered breathlessly when he lifted his head but did not move his hand. His fingers were driving her mad.
“They cannot. Some might suspect, but none can know for sure,” he whispered. “If you are angry with me, you can upbraid me at will after the banquets. I promise to listen very seriously and take all of your criticisms to heart.” He kissed her neck again. “Even as I lick your breasts and kiss your thighs, I will be paying close attention to your scolding. We can discuss my bad behavior between your cries of pleasure.”
She was already having a very hard time remembering what she wanted to scold or discuss.
By Arrangement Page 16