Invidia

by E. H. Schutz

  One

  Katharine awoke to a stream of sunlight shining in her face through an unfamiliar window and from an altogether incorrect angle. She blinked and furrowed her brow in confusion as she realised that a significant weight rested upon her right arm, which felt as though it were not entirely attached to her body. Turning her head, she realised that the weight was Helena and she smiled, stretched the unencumbered half of her body, and turned back to stare at the ceiling, pulling the linen sheets up over her torso as she did so. Helena liked to sleep with the windows open, and Katharine found the bedroom to be a bit chilly as a result.

  Being a woman used to high temperatures, Katharine suspected that the strange one in the question of the bedroom's temperature was actually her and not Helena. Either way, Helena continued to sleep blissfully as the early morning breeze washed over them while Katharine huddled under the covers. She wished fervently for a spontaneous fire to light, like the burning bush, even if it meant an unpleasant conversation with the Almighty. Shivering from the cool air on her bare skin, Katharine turned to wrap herself around Helena's furnace-like body, and instantly felt warmer. She smiled into the back of Helena's neck and savoured her scent. Helena always smelt of the outdoors and of summer rain. She would never say such a sentimental thing to her face, for Helena would certainly giggle at her for hours, and that simply would not do.

  Katharine muttered to herself about Helena's giggling habits—and her tendency to giggle at Katharine when such a reaction was most certainly unwarranted—as she smoothed a lock of hair away from Helena's neck and nuzzled into her lover more thoroughly. At the foot of the bed, the black and white cat which they had found several days before dozed peacefully, a silk handkerchief tied round her neck to stop her scratching at the wounds inflicted by some unknown beast.

  Katharine inhaled deeply and smiled. This was the morning of the fifth day since she had begun to stay at the manor instead of riding the whole way back to Tisbury once she had finished her day's work and prayers, and she found her new situation at once utterly familiar and yet utterly alien. Helena's presence surely accounted for the feeling of familiarity. Pressed against soft curves, Katharine wondered how she ever had felt at home in the whole of her life previous. However, nothing changed the fact that the sun came in from quite the wrong direction and at far too great a strength. Katharine's own bed faced the other way and she, like any person with good sense, she thought, kept the windows mostly shut at night and the curtains drawn.

  Helena stirred against her and Katharine kept quite still and held her breath to avoid waking her. The cat yawned and settled back into her sleep, curled on herself as to make a perfect circle, her tiny paws covering her nose and her tail wrapped tightly round herself. After waiting a few moments to make sure that Helena would remain asleep, Katharine carefully exhaled and extracted her arm from beneath her sleeping lover, and raised herself onto her elbow to get a better look at the woman. The morning sun glinted off of her wavy hair, somehow making her look more radiant and regal than she ordinarily did. One hand rested atop the linen bedsheets, adorned by a scrape she had acquired yesterday whilst helping Katharine install a set of iron railings for the balcony overlooking the front hall. In sleep, she looked tranquil and even younger than she was, and like nothing in the world could ever give her pause at all.

  Helena shifted in her sleep, which resulted in the sheet falling away from her torso and exposing a bare breast, a sight which pulled Katharine from her ruminations and drove all other thoughts from her mind. Helena now lay fully on her back, one arm thrown over her head and naked to the waist. The sun streamed in, illuminating her skin with golden light and turning some of her dark hair to a reddish hue. Katharine carefully raised a hand to Helena's delicate cheekbone and lightly stroked the smooth skin. She smiled. How she had come to be so fortunate—so blessed—as to have this woman in her life, she would never know. As much as she was sure that He might disapprove of their activities, she knew only to thank the Almighty morning, noon, and night for the turn of fortune which had brought her and Helena together.

  Slowly, she traced Helena's jaw, just under her ear, and then ran careful fingers over Helena's pulse point and over her clavicle. She remained thus, her hand resting lightly as she meditated upon Helena's steady deep breaths before resuming her movement downward between soft breasts and over the sternum, finally reaching Helena's abdomen. The smooth, slightly rounded surface rose and fell with each breath, and Katharine almost wept with how beautiful the woman lying next to her was, always, whether in her finest dress or ordinary, covered in mud, or soaked to the skin with rain or sweat. Whether the expression on her face was of joy or irritation, of sorrow or of serenity, Katharine, without fail, found her visage most a pleasant one upon which to gaze.

  Katharine felt a single tear roll down her cheek, and she snorted to herself with vague derision. Prior to a meeting Helena, she had never shed a tear except when her father had passed, but for the past three weeks, she felt as though she were a veritable fountain of weakness and sentimentality. It had started whilst she was in London getting materials for the earl’s project, and the abject loneliness of being the only person she knew for a hundred miles or more came upon her with no warning one evening as she sat in her inn room reading a volume of Calvin. She had wept openly, and she feared loudly, as she was overcome by her attachment.

  She had spent the next several days chastising herself for becoming so very fond of a noblewoman who would almost certainly have forgotten her by the time she returned to Wiltshire. As she gazed at Helena now, she recalled walking along the Thames near the Isle of Dogs inwardly berating herself for being so foolish. Surely Helena would determine, in her absence, that it was all far too difficult, particularly for a woman of her station, to be involved with a commoner—even though Katharine did own property—and furthermore, to carry on an affair outside of her marriage, which, of course, was a violation of the Commandments, one of the seven cardinal sins, and an executable offence besides. Katharine reflected that at least Helena was only acting contrary to one Commandment and one of the sins, whereas she herself was running counter to at least two of each.

  Yet, here they were. Somehow, it seemed that Helena had determined that being with Katharine was worth the risk to her person and the almost certain damnation of her soul, and they were, at least for now, ensconced in an unusual—nigh unique—arrangement the rules of which they were inventing as they went. Finally having spoken their affections aloud, and without fear of being caught out by Robert, Katharine and Helena had set about a fairly domestic routine. Katharine worked the iron in her forge in the village, and brought it daily to the manor in her wagon. The climate of the bedroom aside, Katharine found their present situation far more pleasant than leaving Helena every evening, and Helena gave every indication that she felt the same.

  As though Katharine's thoughts summoned her from sleep, Helena at that moment opened her eyes halfway and gazed up at Katharine through her lashes. Katharine ran her hand, which still rested on Helena's abdomen, around the curve of her side and pulled her closer for a gentle and passionate kiss.

  “Good morning,” said Helena after several moments.

  “Good morning, darling.” Katharine smiled down at her. “How was your sleep?”

  “Wonderful as it always is with you.” Helena stretched, slightly nudging the cat at her feet. The cat did not move. Helena finished her stretch and brought her arms down and around Katharine's neck, pulling her in for another kiss.

  Katharine allowed herself to rest lightly upon Helena, stretched out along her body which, not so long ago, had been delicate, slight, and soft. Now, there was a firmness to her where previously unused muscles grew and tightened, and while Helena remained delicate, Katharine no longer felt as thou
gh she might break her in two when they made love. She smiled into the kiss and Helena took the opportunity to lightly pull Katharine's lower lip into her mouth. Katharine shivered and returned the gesture by running her own tongue along Helena's, and then pulled back to look at Helena.

  What she saw was Helena, flushed and with half-closed eyes, peering at her with mild irritation.

  “Why did you stop?”

  Katharine smiled and answered by nibbling on Helena's throat, down her sternum, and with great deliberation, over a soft breast. Helena squirmed under her in anticipation, and gasped when Katharine finally reached her destination and began to suck, gently at first. Katharine loved the sounds and movements Helena made when she did this, and she spent the better part of the next hour caressing and nibbling at Helena's breasts.

  At long last, Helena collapsed in a sweating heap, eyes closed and breathing heavily. Katharine snuggled up next to her, feeling smug. After a few minutes, Helena caught her by surprise and turned over onto her. Her eyes burned with desire as she gazed at Katharine.

  “Your turn,” she whispered.

  The sun now well over the horizon, they extracted themselves from each other and the bed, dressed, and went to their morning prayers. The cat, who had finally taken her indignant leave at some point, reappeared and followed them on padded paws to the cloister. They managed to get through their prayers without getting distracted by each other—an unusual occurrence—and after a large breakfast, Katharine saddled her horse and rode to Tisbury to fetch the new estate gates, which she had finished the day before.

  The gates stood a man's height and half again, heavy and solid, decorated intricately with twisted iron pillars and filigree detail work. While she prepared the hinges to accept their new hangings, Katharine happened to look up to see Helena strolling down the drive in the morning light. Katharine felt her heart leap into her throat at the sight, and forced herself to look away and back to the enormous iron works which lay in the grass. She tied a stout rope to the top of one as Helena approached.

  “Oh, dearest, they are beautiful.” Helena stooped down to run her fingers over the detail work as Katharine felt herself swell with pride. Helena continued tracing her fingers over the iron. When she came to a series of vines which formed a pattern largely reminiscent of a letter 'H' in flowing script, she looked up at Katharine and smiled. Katharine turned bright red. Helena let her be instead of drawing further attention to it.

  “They are just beautiful,” she repeated. “What are you doing?”

  “I am about to hang them; it is going to be rather a production.”

  “Might I help?”

  Katharine eyed her for a moment, taking in her long flowing dress and delicate shoes. “Do you really not own anything which might be more suitable for this sort of thing?”

  “You know very well, my dearest, that I do not have the clothing of a woman who might do a moment's work, and certainly not a day's, but do not despair over it. I would rather help you, as I have these weeks, and perhaps ruin a dress or two than sit idly as you sweat. What shall I do?”

  Katharine, who by now knew better than to argue with Helena, handed her the length of rope which she had knotted to the new gate. “Hold onto it and keep it taut for me. If you need to, wrap it round this post a few times—” she pointed to a stout wooden post in the ground a few feet away, “—and that will help you to take the strain.”

  Helena nodded, a solemn frown crossing her face. Katharine smiled. “Fear not, my dear. You shan't have a problem. Only be sure to let me know if you do find yourself in difficulty.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind Helena's ear.

  “I worry that I do not know what I am doing, and that I will injure the gates, or worse, you.”

  “You shan't, love. You've many times proven yourself quite competent. Here, have the rope and give it a few turns as I said.”

  Katharine watched as Helena wrapped the rope round the post as instructed, and as Katharine picked the top of the gate off the ground, Helena pulled to keep the rope taut. Katharine raised the top of the gate to shoulder level, muscles bulging as she did so, and Helena took the slack. With a quick movement, Katharine switched her grip on the gate so that she could push it over her head and put her whole body behind pushing the gate upright. She looked at Helena, who had taken up the slack instantly, and Katharine gave her a nod. Soon, the gate was upright and next to the pins where it needed to be hung. Katharine smiled at her.

  “Well done, love. Now give the rope another few turns so it will stay where it is.” Helena obeyed. “Very well, now it will stay on its own. Come here, love. Now, when I lift the gate, you need to be sure that this pin goes into this hole, and then the gate will be hung. You must have a care for your fingers. Ready?”

  In a quick, smooth movement, Katharine raised the gate. Helena carefully guided the pins into the barrel, and one half the gate was thus hung. They both stepped back an admired their handiwork.

  “It looks lovely, dearest Katharine. Thank you for allowing me to help you.”

  “On the contrary, love, thank you for your help. It should have taken me ages longer without you. Shall we do the other side?”

  Two

  After Vespers, while the evening light waned in the west that Wednesday, Katharine and Helena sat curled together on a window seat in Helena's bedroom, reading, as was their custom. The cat sat between them, purring, as was her custom. Katharine looked up at Helena and opened her mouth to make some remark when her ears picked up a noise which drifted into the window on the gentle breeze. Helena looked up a moment later and sighed.

  “He returns,” she said.

  Katharine nodded. Her stomach knotted up with fear and nervousness.

  “I do not wish for you to leave,” Helena continued. “I have never been so content as when I am with you.”

  “But it would hardly do for him to find me here.” Katharine bit her lip to stop herself crying and made to stand, but Helena put a gentle hand on her knee.

  “Katharine, your horse is here.” Helena smiled and gently stroked Katharine's cheek.

  Katharine blinked at her. “Ah, indeed.” She leaned back against the window frame, and Helena moved her caress back to Katharine's leg. “What shall I do, then, love?”

  “Remain here whilst I go to greet him. If he asks where you are, I shall inform him that you are working somewhere. He will be happy with that.”

  “He shan't ask you details?”

  “Robert does not think me capable of knowing details.”

  Katharine frowned. “I know he does not think a great deal of you, but does he really think that little?”

  Helena rolled her eyes heavenward. “Katharine, I told you that you are the first person with whom I have had a sensible conversation of more than three sentences since I came to live here. I did not exaggerate the situation.”

  “I understand. I do find it remarkable, though.”

  Helena shrugged. “He did not marry me for my ability to converse.”

  Katharine furrowed her brow and opened her mouth, but Helena placed a hand gently on her knee. Katharine felt her insides relax, and then melt at the touch.

  “My love, it is enough for me that marrying him brought me to you though it may damn me for eternity. Why he did so is of no concern, only that it happened and that we are together now.”

  Katharine closed her eyes and sighed, suppressing all of the rejoinders she felt coming to her tongue. Instead, she inhaled deeply, attempting to calm herself. Soon, she felt gentle breath on her face, and then the softest of lips pressing gently against her own.

  “Do not leave and do not worry,” Helena whispered. “I shall be back presently.”

  Katharine remained in the window seat and stared out at the night, but found herself unable to obey Helena's command not to worry. She could not imagine that the earl would not find her continued presence strange or worth further investigation. Of course, it was also rather unlikely that the earl would suspect that s
he was actually bedding his wife, so that worked in her favour. If, however, the earl gave as little a care about Helena or her activities as she said he did, then they ought not have a problem remaining as they were. Perhaps, even, Helena could come and stay with her at the forge. Katharine smiled. They worked well together. She drifted into a fantasy about teaching Helena to work the iron, showing her the techniques her father had taught her, and admiring the first, likely misshapen, knife or implement.

  Soon, her fantasy wandered into more lascivious territory. In her mind, she embraced Helena from behind and whispered her commendation of Helena's effort. She spread her fingers out over Helena's abdomen, tracing the boning in her bodice, and nuzzled behind her ear, inhaling deeply the scent of Helena's hair. Having her arms round Helena, pressed against her like this, invariably awakened desire within her and this time was no different.

  Katharine trailed her lips down the side of Helena's neck, pausing to kiss the point where her neck and shoulder met. Helena made a soft sound of appreciation as Katharine's hands moved firmly up her abdomen and ribs, and Katharine smiled into the kiss, her own feelings more inflamed by Helena's response. She slowly reached up and between Helena's breasts and grasped one of the laces holding the linen dress on Helena's body. Unlacing her from behind always made Helena gasp and press herself backward into Katharine. As she unlaced the dress with one hand, now moving downward, Katharine slipped her other hand into the warm space under Helena's dress. Katharine closed her eyes as she found herself overwhelmed by the sensation of Helena's soft skin.

  At last the dress was fully unlaced and Katharine refocused her attention on kissing Helena's throat and clavicle, grasping Helena's hips firmly and pulling them back against her. Helena openly groaned now, and Katharine felt her breath quicken as she released her grip on Helena's hips and swiftly removed Helena's dress, knelt to allow Helena to balance on her shoulder as she stepped out of it, and then kissed her way back up Helena's body, caressing her glowing skin as she regained her feet. Helena still stood, trembling, facing away from her, hands on Katharine's and holding them to her body.