Chapter One
Caroline thought she was clever, but she was not nearly as cunning as her father and mother. Too many suitors had come and gone, dismissed by her. Caroline found fault in all of them. One was too fat, one too tall, she did not like the way one man’s beard grew, but the real problem was Caroline.
She did not want to get married. She did not want to fall in love, much less have children. Why could she not be whom she wanted to be? Caroline, who shot arrows and could throw a dagger up to the hilt in the dirt, and ride astride.
All of her brothers and sisters had married and many expected their second children. Caroline did not know how long before her father made a match against her will or forced her into the nunnery.
Still, Caroline could not stop hoping they would see she was a free spirit and not chained to a man or religion. She had heard stories of nuns making pottery and painting, and even studying music. Nevertheless, she could not fathom being alone and expected not to let her hair fly free in the wind as she ran. Her eldest sister said Caroline was just youthful and soon she would want to settle down and have a family.
But Caroline wanted none of it. Nor did she see any future where she would desire to marry and have children.
Caroline walked down the stone hallways of her father’s keep. Pondering, what future suitor they had summoned her to meet this time. Already, she thought of ideas of how to make her refusal seem less peculiar.
It was not as if any of the prior suitors were less handsome than the average man. However, she wondered if the price to the upper nobility was good looks.
None of her suitors made her heart flutter as her sisters described of their husbands. But what was love except an arrangement?
Still, Caroline could not help but hope for love and someone who would understand her. Someone who would love her for who she was and not who they wanted her to be. Typically, a wife first and mother second.
Caroline often snuck off during the nights to practice with her bow and knife. She wanted a man who would think of her as equal, and not as chattel. Could such a man be found in Britain?
She supposed she should be thankful her parents had not forced her into marriage already. She had heard tales of women who tried to question, but were answered with a rod.
What would it take to convince them that she would never allow someone to strike her? She would fight until she had no blood or breath left in her body.
Rushes crushed under her feet as she walked over the grey stones to her parent’s chambers. Already they had finished the evening meal, and slept their first sleep. Now was the time for gatherings and parties. Yet, her father had bid the servants to request Caroline come straightway to their chambers.
Outside the heavy oak door, Caroline hesitated. What waited on the other side? Her father had never beaten her for refusing her suitors, but she did notice their priests and other nobles shaking their heads and whispering in his ear. How long before he succumbed to their disapproval?
Taking a breath that was shakier than she would have liked, she knocked. Hearing the summons to enter, she pushed the door open.
Paintings and tapestries full of reds, blues, greens and yellows contrasted against the stone walls inside her parents’ chambers. Their bed sat next to a window and took up most of the space. The small sitting room held two benches, which lined the wall opposite of the door. Caroline’s mother sat on one with her hands folded and her eyes rimmed red with tears. Her father stared out the window as candles flickered, and a fire popped inside the hearth.
Next to her mother sat a man. One she had never seen before. His reddish blond hair gave her pause. As well, the tunic he wore; slightly tattered and showing skin bronzed from time in the sun and filled with freckles.
His brown leggings looked like they might have mud on them. Even his boots were old and worn.
Caroline wondered if this was a new servant. Yet, she did not understand why he was sitting on the bench rather than scrubbing the floor or some other task.
She gazed from her mother to her father who refused to acknowledge her presence and then back to the stranger before her. He rose and took a step toward her.
His eyes were green with a ring of gold. He looked to be her age, perhaps a few years older. An infectious grin lit his visage. Caroline did not know what to say or do. Obviously, by his attire, he was not a nobleman. Still, she found herself struggling not to smile back at him.
He towered over her and had the air of superiority.
When he held out his hand and Caroline gaped at it. His fingers were long and thick and his palm looked as though he could hold both of her hands inside of it. Her stomach did a flip as she looked back into his eyes and saw the crinkles in the corners from his smile.
She bowed her head slightly, then glanced at her mother for some kind of indication of who this man was.
Her father turned, and with a grimace gestured to the man before her. “Caroline, meet your new husband’s proxy.”
Chapter Two
Caroline’s stomach sunk into the floor.
“The baron has given a great deal of money for you as payment for your dowry. Moreover, accepted nothing in return, except you.”
“But I—”
“It is not up for discussion.” Her father ran a hand through his blond hair. “You will leave at first light, after the ceremony. The baron’s man here will stand in as proxy and you will be married to the baron automatically. It is not for you to question us, but to obey. For too long you have been free and wild. The baron, in his letters, has promised to tame you.”
Caroline squared her shoulders at that remark. “And this baron, does he have a portrait or an image so that I may see my future husband at least before I am married and whisked away?”
Her proxy chuckled then drew out a locket that looked dainty in his hands. Yet, when she took it, the locket filled her palm. She stared at the faded image. A man with stark white hair and beard. She could not even make out the color of his eyes, for the painting was frayed and thick white hair covered the man.
“But-but he is old.” Caroline worried this man would die soon. What would happen to her then? As much as she did not want to get married, she did not want to be a widow either.
It was custom for young ladies to marry much older men than themselves. However, the man in the portrait looked old enough to be Caroline’s grandfather or perhaps even great-grandfather. Images of his wrinkled hands upon her flesh made her skin crawl. She thrust the locket back to the man before her.
“I will not marry him. Send me to the nunnery.”
Her mother’s face reddened and Caroline backed up a step.
“You will do as you are told. No more of this nonsense of arrows and blades and not marrying. We have written the baron for months hoping, that he would accept you despite your age, and temperament.
“He has finally agreed. And you will do well as his wife and bring honor to your family. If you refuse, you will be beaten and disowned. For this once, please, do as we ask. You see yourself from his image that he is not long on the earth. And, perhaps he will be good to you and get you with child, a son before his passing.”
“If he is to die soon, then why must I play broodmare now?”
“The baron is a desperate man and that is why he has paid so much for you, in spite of your shortcomings,” her father said. “He has no heirs. His land, title and money will be forfeited and given to his enemy and ours, the Earl of Vineguard. This is your duty: marry the baron and produce a child as soon as possible.”
Caroline’s mouth went dry and her fist clenched until the nails bit into her palm. A forced marriage was one thing, but to be expected to bear a child so quickly without even getting to know her new husband first, was suffocating.
Who am I think that love would come to me when it comes to so few? Caroline thought.
*
Numbness settled into her bones as her mother watched her handmaid dress her in the wedding gown. It was a pres
ent from the baron. The top panel was gold to symbolize the baron’s and her noble birth, half the skirt was crimson with the baron’s sigil, which were birds of paradise. Caroline’s hand traced over the pattern. She only had moments before her mother swept her away to dress her for the wedding.
Her fists clenched. Already, the pigs and ducks had been roasted. She doubted her parents would accept any refusal from her and might preform a double proxy if she escaped. Someone would stand in as her, the bride. And she would be married regardless.
“Their sigil means freedom.” She continued despite Caroline’s huff. “The color of this red panel represents their military strength and his time as a warrior.”
Then Caroline smoothed out the other skirt panel, which was azure and embroidered with her own family crest of deer antlers. Blue stood for strength and loyalty. She knew she would need strength to ensure this marriage.
She let her mother led her out of their chambers and into the dining hall where they had already prepared the wedding feast.
The priest stood before them. The music and laughter around them sounded muted as if she had stuffed cotton in her ears.
After her vows, Caroline could not eat. She gulped the wine, but it soon gave her a headache.
She was married now despite her months of avoiding suitors. Now, this man sitting-in for her husband calmly accepted congratulations, because the baron supposedly could not rise out of bed being so weak.
Her parents must be more desperate then she thought. For the proxy did not even change his tattered clothes. Then again, how many clothes did a servant have?
*
Inside Caroline’s chambers, she flopped down on her feather bed. Would the baron have silk sheets? Or did he prefer a hard and rough mattress? Now, she wished she had taken her parents’ option a month ago and joined the nunnery.
The proxy added logs to the fire and stirred the embers until they popped and crackled.
What was she to do now? She was married. And perhaps a widow before she even crossed the threshold of her new home. Now her stomach rumbled and she wished she had eaten instead of only drinking wine.
But what else could she do? The food at the time, it seemed as unappealing as her marriage.
“Lady Caroline,” the proxy said. “I’m Nicholas.”
She shrugged her shoulders. What did it matter his name? He was a servant … a stand-in for her feeble husband.
“You’ll like the baron, I think. Might not be pleasing to the eye, but he is a kind man and has always treated his servants fairly.”
“He does not beat them?” Caroline had hope now, that at least, he may not beat her. If he was kind to his servants, then how much more so would he be to his wife and mother of his child?
“No, he has never struck any of us. Even those that might have deserved it. His enemies, though, he fought in many battles, but lost the taste of bloodshed in his youth.”
“Tell me more about him.” Caroline moved her wedding gown and crossed her legs as she sat on the bed.
The proxy said the baron refused to allow the tradition of ripping a piece of the bride’s gown for good luck at her wedding. Instead, he brought a similar dress and tossed it out the door as the wedding guests clamored to try to reach Caroline.
She picked at the hem. It was very kind of the baron to give her an extra gown for tradition sake. Even so, Caroline did not feel so lucky.
Chapter Three
Caroline did not sleep well. Despite the proxy sleeping on the floor to ensure no one stole the baron’s prize, and to make sure she could not escape her chambers. It would do no good if the proxy lost his master’s bride.
Her feet dragged as she moved across the room to allow her handmaid to brush and braid her golden hair. Caroline was then dressed in a sleeveless crimson woolen upper dress with a long sleeve silk cotte or undertunic.
The proxy told her that the baron would grant her two handmaids eventually, but she was to come alone, for now. None of her servants would come with her.
She bid her handmaids and chambermaids goodbye, and hugged Gwendolyn and Mary who had been with her since she was born. Her father huffed at her display of affection to mere servants, then he gripped her in a hug that made the air rush out of her.
“Please give the baron a chance,” he whispered. He did not let her go until she gave a nod.
She turned to her mother and hugged her. As she looked in her mother’s eyes and saw her tears, she kissed her cheek. “This isn’t goodbye. You and father will come visit me. Surely the baron cannot object to my family?”
“We’ve promised the baron we would not visit until a year has passed or you are with c-child.” As they walked, her mother wiped her tears from her face and Caroline gave her hand a squeeze.
Outside, she accepted the reins of her mare from the proxy. After she mounted, he patted the horse too near her leg for her liking.
“Lady Caroline, perhaps after you have proven fertile, then the baron may suggest you send for a servant or two from your father’s estate. However, the condition of your marriage was payment to your father, not the baron or even you.”
“No, there was no thought to me at all.”
“Oh, I think the baron thought a great deal about you and your potential … marriage.” He winked.
She huffed and snapped the reins sending him scrambling to get out of the way.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw he leapt onto his horse and chased after her.
If he thought to catch her, he did not know her. She snapped the reins. The trees sped by. She laughed as her head covering loosened and the wind whipped it away. Her blonde hair pulled free of her braid and she laughed as Nicholas’ horse pounded behind her.
Soon, her mare tired, and she let her canter.
The proxy rode beside her. “You are as wild as the rumors say.”
“Does the baron have problems with his heart?”
“Nay. His heart works fine, as does the rest of him.”
“Then why did he send you? Was I not worth the journey?”
“You were worth the journey and more.”
His words brought heat to her cheeks. What was the matter with her? Instead, she spurned her gaze to the forest ahead.
*
They rode in silence until Caroline saw the baron’s estate looming on a hill. It was larger than her father’s. Three towers rose into the noonday sun compared to her family’s two. The keep looked to be a mile around. Her father’s three towers, keep, and winter garden would fill the space of this keep.
At the archway, several guards joked. Already, she smelled the roasted pig and wild duck cooking. She wondered why there were guards here instead of at the banquet hall.
“Is the baron expecting a war or uprising?”
“Only with you, my lady.”
She frowned, maneuvering her horse around the men and mud. After their horses had been groomed and fed, she brushed off her red upper dress and followed Nicholas into the dining chambers. Guests and servants filled the room. Piles of food including the pig and duck she smelled, summer apples and tarts, ginger-seasoned pheasant and dark cherries covered the tables.
Nicholas led her to the high table. The baron’s chair sat empty on her right. When the proxy sat on her left, she gawked at him. Why was he at the high table with her? Did he expect the baron any moment?
“The baron is feeling ill. He suggested I remain with you for a few days until he recovers, since you know do not anyone here.”
She gave a nod relieved, and then ate. Even though she may have a few days of reprieve, the fact that her husband could bed her at any moment made the bread taste like flour and paste. Still, she remembered her wedding night with only wine and vowed not to have her head pound again. She was thankful to be granted another night of freedom and her maidenhood kept a little longer.
When the lyre, harp, and horn played a round dance song, the baron’s proxy, Nicholas took her hand and led her to the floor. The guests had finished
their meal and their tables pushed against the far wall to make room. As they danced, his hand was warm against her back. She swallowed at his closeness.
Would the baron allow me to dance with his servant if he were here? She doubted from the image of the baron and descriptions of his health that he would ever dance with her.
After several more songs, Caroline was winded and bade the proxy to take her on a tour.
“There are parts of the keep we may not visit … the baron has given me strict instructions.”
“May I see him? Just to give my greetings in case he doesn’t su—”
“Survive?” He kept his hand on her back as he led her down a hallway lined with gold and red tapestries. “I think he may have more years left in him than you think. Many in his family have lived well into their sixties. One, his uncle, lived until he was seventy-two.”
The pit in her stomach rose into her throat. She felt at ease with the proxy that she doubted she would ever feel with the baron. He was easy to talk with. Why could Nicholas not have been my suitor? Why a frail rich baron who had insisted on an immediate marriage?
At a painting, she stopped. “She’s beautiful. Who is she?” The woman in the painting had bright red hair and green eyes. Her mouth tucked up in the corners as though she had fought not to smile. Often, portraits of nobles held stern expressions. It was breathtaking to see a woman dare to be different. Caroline noticed the woman had a dagger hilt hidden inside the folds of her purple gown.
“The baron’s grandmother.”
They turned two more corners and he led her upstairs. “And these are your chambers, my lady.”
Six Shades of Romance Page 17
