A lifted eyebrow. “But?”
“But I would not be telling the truth if I said I did not miss my elegant suite back home, or the maids who brought me my bath and did the laundry, or the fine meals the cook prepared every night. And also….” I stopped again, for I was not sure I wanted to reveal one particular matter that had been bothering me, a dissatisfaction I had not even recognized until I began to articulate those details which kept my life from being entirely satisfactory.
“What is it, Marenna? You can tell me.”
His tone was soft, almost pleading, his gaze fixed on me. My cheeks heated, and I was glad of the flickering candlelight, for it meant he probably couldn’t tell that I had blushed. “It is only that you are gone from dawn ’til past dusk. I am glad that we have a chance to share these dinners, but is this not the time when a newly married couple should get to know one another better? How can we do that when you are hardly here?”
At once he set down his fork and reached across the table so he might rest his hand on mine. It was a strong hand, with well-callused fingers — very unlike the hands of the noblemen I had danced with — but I liked the feeling of wear, for it told me he was not afraid of hard work. “My dear, I know it must be difficult for you. This is all so very different from anything else you have ever known. But you must realize that this current state of affairs will not go on forever. The harvest is a time of heavy labor, it is true. Once the crops are all gathered in, the pace will slow down a good deal.”
His words made sense, and yet I could not be entirely relieved by them, for once the harvest was done, we might not have a place here at all, should the man he had temporarily replaced decide he wanted to stay on, rather than face an uncertain future at the onset of winter. “But we do not even know what will happen to us then,” I said, my tone subdued.
With one finger, he rubbed the back of my hand, the movement gentle, almost a caress. A small thrill went through me, and I had to take in a breath, make myself focus on what he was about to say. He really was so terribly distracting. “I know the future frightens you, but I think you do not have as much to worry about as you believe you do. Even if Master Threnson decides to reclaim his post once his injury has healed, Master Brinsell has said he is very happy with my work, and will do what he can to make sure we both have a permanent home here. So please, Marenna, set your heart at rest. I do not want you fretting over such a thing when every indication is that we will be happily settled here for years to come.”
Those words did calm me somewhat. I tried to envision what life in this cottage would be like come winter…what would happen when I finally allowed myself to be Corin’s true wife. Would we have children right away? Such a thing had not happened for Lynnis and her husband, but it seemed they were the exception rather than the rule. I thought this cottage could accommodate one child easily enough, for of course by then I would be sharing the large bedroom with Corin. Even two might not be so bad. Anything more than that, though, and surely this place would feel as if it was full to bursting.
Oh, I was getting very far ahead of myself. I should just be reassured, and glad to hear that we would not be turned out on the high road once the harvest had been gathered in. There would be cozy evenings by the fireplace and chats with Lynnis as she shared a new recipe with me. Yes, it would all be so very different from everything I was used to, and everything I had expected my life to be, but I thought it would be comfortable enough, once I let go of the past and realized that never again would I ride in a coach and four, or dance the verdralle with a small orchestra as accompaniment. Not all joys in life must necessarily be extravagant ones.
“You are very quiet,” Corin said. “I thought you would be pleased to hear this news.”
“Oh, I am,” I responded at once. I certainly did not want him to think I was unhappy at the prospect of staying here in this sanctuary he had found for us. “I suppose I was just thinking of what winter would be like here.”
“Somewhat milder than in Silverhold, I would think. Yes, we are only some thirty-five miles south of there, but so close to the mountains, you always received a chill wind in the wintertime. Because Marric’s Rest borders the Lozen River and lies in this sheltered valley, it does not bear the brunt of the cold winds and the snowfall that winter brings.”
This revelation was also encouraging, because I knew all too well how harsh winters could be in the castle of my birth, how those bleak winds always managed to find their way through every chink in the masonry, every gap in the windows. Even with fires blazing in every hearth, it all too often could be quite uncomfortable. “Well, that is certainly good news.”
“You see? All my roaming about has had some benefit, for at least I have a better idea of how the seasons fare in various locations around Sirlende. Of course it would be even warmer in Iselfex, and warmer still down in Delanir where I learned my trade. Indeed, we often received no snow at all there, and I cannot guarantee such a thing here.”
Nor would I want it, for I knew that a Midwinter’s Eve with no snow would feel odd to me. I told Corin as much, adding, “I enjoy seeing the seasons change. I only would prefer to avoid a blizzard like the one we had last winter, where the castle was so buried that all my father’s men took two days to dig us out.”
“I think I can safely say that you will not have to worry about such a thing happening here.” He finished the last of the chicken on his plate, and moved to carve another slice from the bird on its platter. “More?”
“Just a little,” I replied.
From there we ate and drank quietly, both of us seeming content to be silent as we finished our meal. When we were done, Corin helped me gather up the plates and take them into the kitchen, which was nearly dark, the only illumination the warm-hued crescent moon as it began to rise.
I turned around and bumped into him. An apology sprang to my lips, but I never had a chance to utter it, for he bent and gently placed his mouth against mine.
This was what I had wanted, and yet for a second I froze in shock, so unexpected was his embrace. Then I relaxed into it, let myself taste the tartness of the wine on his lips, allowed myself to revel in the feel of his strong arms around me. His body was so very warm, pressed up against mine.
The kiss did not last as long as I had expected. After a moment, he pulled away slightly, and seemed to be staring down into my face, although the room was so dimly lit that I couldn’t quite see his expression.
“Do you mind that I did that?”
“‘Mind’?” I repeated blankly. Had his kiss bothered me? I supposed it had, but not in the way he probably thought. Heat and chills seemed to alternate in my body, as though I had a fever, and yet I knew I was perfectly healthy. “No — no. Not at all. It was simply…unexpected.”
A small silence as he appeared to contemplate my response. “I thought I saw something in your face this evening…something that made me think I might have some luck pressing my suit.”
I gave a small, unconvincing chuckle. “Well, I suppose I am getting more used to the thought of being your wife.”
“Is that all?”
Of course it wasn’t, but I did not know if I had the ability to articulate what I currently was feeling. I’d wanted him to kiss me, but now that he had, it felt as if my body was not my own, as if the touch of his lips on mine had awakened some primal force which had slumbered up until now, waiting for the day when the match of my soul finally arrived.
At the same time, I could not help but think of everything Lynnis had explained to me, what I now knew that Corin wanted. Certainly there was nothing wrong in it — we were husband and wife, and so there would be no shame involved in sharing those intimacies — and yet I still did not know how I should respond to his question.
“I think you know it is not,” I said. “I cannot lie to you, Corin. Not about this. I feel…a wakening within me. But with everything that has changed in my life, I still am not sure.”
“You are not sure of me?”
/> His voice had been carefully neutral, but I thought I still detected the hurt within it. “No,” I replied. “I am not sure of myself.”
He reached out to me, pulled me close. His lips brushed against my hair, and he said, “It is all right, my darling. I understand. I told you before that you might take as much time as you need, and I am telling you that again. It is enough to know that you did not mind me kissing you. It is a first step.”
“A step I welcome.” I paused, then said quickly, “So kiss me again, Corin.”
Which he did, his mouth seeking mine, all the strength and goodness and passion within him seeming to come with that touch of lip on lip. And as much as I reveled in that embrace, some part of me wanted to weep as well, for I did not know what was wrong with me.
Why could I not allow myself to be his wife in more than name?
CHAPTER 9
The next day passed, and another, and another. Each night Corin and I sat down to dinner, and spoke of our days, and kissed one another good night. I know he was waiting for me to tell him that I no longer wanted to sleep in the narrow bed I had taken for my own, and join him in the bedroom that should have been ours, but still my reluctance prevented me from granting him that wish. Lynnis hinted around the problem, but, for all her seeming boldness, she apparently was not daring enough to ask me point-blank whether I had taken her advice and submitted to my husband’s most intimate caresses.
And yes, it seemed that what Corin had told me about his future here was only the truth, because even though the grape harvest was now over, no one asked him to leave. Indeed, Master Brinsell requested that he assist in organizing the crush, for not only was it the time when all the women came out to mash the grapes, but there would also be a celebration afterward, with tables set out among the trees and all manner of food and drink. At least I knew I would be able to relax somewhat, for in answer to my somewhat tentative question, Lynnis informed me that the duke did not attend the crush, but instead waited to honor the harvest with a grand feast and ball at the castle. Thank the gods for that, as I did not think I could manage having him see me in such an undignified position.
By that point, I still could not claim to be a very accomplished cook, but I was good at following directions, and that was all Anisa, one of the older women who could no longer crush the grapes, required. She watched over me as I helped make platter after platter of sausage rolls and pasties and breads both savory and sweet. Lynnis also assisted in this task, and it seemed by the time we were done, we had enough food to feed an army.
Tables were set up among the grove that bordered the fields, and the men put out lanterns on poles, for it appeared that the party was intended to last far into the nighttime hours. The women covered the tables in cloths, and everyone brought out the stoneware from their households so we would have ample plates and platters and goblets.
Once all the preparations were done, the women gathered at the scene of the crush itself. Four enormous tubs were set out on the grass, and a large canopy stretched overhead to protect the vulnerable grapes from passing birds. Lynnis showed me how to tie up my skirts to get them out of the way — and oh, how I blushed to be revealing not just my ankles, but my legs nearly up to my knees — and then helped me climb into one of the vats.
The grapes felt strange under my bare feet, oddly bouncy and slippery. I clung to the edge of the tub and waited for my friend to join me, even as I tried my best to avoid the amused glances of the men, who had gathered around the tubs, most of them already drinking from the bottles of wine that had been set out on the tables. Most everyone looked on this as only fair, since it was the men who had done the hard work up until this point. Now it was their time to relax and enjoy themselves.
“Go on,” Lynnis said, since she had just entered the tub herself. She reached up to touch her hair, which was tightly braided against her scalp. I had done the same thing, to keep any stray strands from falling into the crush. “Up and down. Like you’re walking, but with a little more force.”
Reluctantly, I let go of the edge of the tub and took one hesitant step. The grapes seemed to roll beneath my feet rather than being smashed, and I wondered what on earth would happen if I lost my balance and fell face first into the crush. No, I could not allow that to happen. In the past, I had been praised as a very good dancer, and I tried to recall those skills now, the balance and the lightness of foot. I certainly would not allow myself to be defeated by a vat full of grapes.
I stomped down with one foot and then the other, trying to make a little game of it. A few feet away from me, Lynnis laughed and tossed her head. “Yes, that’s the way of it!” she said. “You are so slender that you probably have to exert a little more force than the rest of us, but it seems that you are beginning to get your rhythm.”
And so I was. I hopped from one foot to the other, moving around, trying to make sure I did not miss any sections in the tub. From off to one side, I heard the sound of a viol playing a lively tune, and I craned my head to see who it might be. To my surprise, the musician turned out to be Master Brinsell himself, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his dark eyes. The watching men began to clap, and those of us standing in our vats of grapes began to stomp along in time with the music.
A laugh escaped my lips. I simply couldn’t help myself, for I could not remember the last time I had felt so silly, so lighthearted and free. No doubt if anyone from my former life could have seen me, their laughter would have been of the scornful sort, and they would have mocked me for getting dirty with the peasants. But it wasn’t like that at all. Yes, these people had work that needed to be done, but they had changed it into almost a game, something to be looked forward to rather than dreaded.
Around and around Lynnis and I went, both of us giggling like two girls still back in the schoolroom. I kept catching flashes of Corin as he stood off to the side and watched us. He, like most of the men, wore a smile, but I could see something else in his expression beyond mere amusement. It looked almost like surprise, as if he had not expected me to relax into this activity the way I had. But then, how could he have known about the strictures that had ruled my life up until a few short days ago? I was always admonished to keep my voice low and soft, to not laugh too loudly, to move with elegance and grace, and never admit to anything less than perfection. All those rules were so ingrained in women of my class that I had stopped thinking about them long before, but now I could see how hemmed in I had been, trammeled like a wild thing in a cage.
Here, no one cared for any of those niceties. The men laughed, but they were laughing with us rather than at us, were pleased to see us making this necessary chore into something of a romp. Not a one of them had leered at our exposed legs — of course, I did not think anyone would find them particularly attractive now, not splashed with dark juice up to the knees as they were.
After Master Brinsell had played a good set of four tunes, he came over to the tub where Lynnis and I were still stomping gamely away, and bent down and inspected the crushed grapes within. “You have done a fine job here, my ladies,” he said. “I think you can stop now and reward yourselves with a cup of wine.”
That did sound like a good reward, for although I would have kept gamely at the task for as long as he needed us to, I was beginning to be rather wearied and was glad to be given permission to stop. Both Corin and Hal came over to the vat and helped to lift Lynnis and me out. It was a good thing that Hal was a big man, sturdy and broad-shouldered, for someone slighter than he might have had a difficult time hoisting his tall and well-built wife.
One of the ladies who was too elderly to participate in the crush came over with a jug of water and some clean cloths, so we might wipe down our legs and feet. Then it was time to put our shoes and stockings back on, and go over to the tables, where we sat and allowed ourselves to be waited on by our husbands.
“I believe I could get used to this,” Lynnis murmured to me as Hal handed her a sturdy earthenware cup, full almost to the rim with new
wine.
For that was the tradition at the estate, that during this harvest celebration, the vintners would open the barrels of the wine set out the year before and sample it. This gave everyone a good idea of how well it was aging, for Corin had told me that it depended on the grape and the vintage, and sometimes the wine would be bottled immediately afterward, and other times it would be sent back to age for another year, or possibly even two.
He handed me my cup, and I drank. Yes, I could tell the wine was still young, for it had a sharpness upon first taste that I guessed age would help to mellow, but underneath that I could taste the richness of the fruit, the nuances of this particular vintage.
“So, Mistress Blackstone,” Master Brinsell said as he approached us. “What say you? Another year in the barrel, or two?”
I glanced over at Corin, who gave me an encouraging nod. “Well,” I replied, then took another sip. “I certainly do not profess to be an expert, but I think that there is a complexity here which could do with two years in the barrel — if, of course, you can afford to be so patient.”
The two men exchanged a glance, Master Brinsell’s lips quirking slightly. However, when he spoke, his tone was sober enough, as if he wanted to make sure I knew that he was giving my suggestion ample thought. “Oh, mistress, you do not need to worry whether the duke can afford to keep this wine aging for another year. While his vineyards do bring in a good income, the duchy certainly does not need them to survive. Growing vines is an amusement to him, a diversion. It will not matter whether he keeps this wine in barrels for two more years — or five, should it come to that.”
I supposed I should have guessed as much, for it had become clear to me that Lord Sorthannic did not appear to want for anything…and, unlike many other rich men, he did not clutch his wealth tightly to himself, but made sure it was used to keep the people on his estates comfortable. Even so, I could not quite prevent a certain sharpness from entering my tone as I said, “Indeed? If the vineyards are such a diversion, I wonder that he does not come down here himself to observe the crush. I would think it might amuse him.”
The Song of the Thrush Page 12