It was probably a good thing that we were not.
Father Edmund cleared his throat and made a fluttering motion with his hands. “Yes, well….”
“Thank you, Father,” William said, handing him the entire purse from his belt. Father Edmund’s eyes widened. I imagined William was thus forgiven for the kiss.
We burst out through the doors of the church. The ring on my finger sparkled in the sunlight, and I took a moment to examine it more closely. It was a simple gold band, with no ornamentation or jewels, and with a wry smile I recalled his words so oft repeated, “I am not a rich man.” My sister had a dozen rings that were far more ornate, but not a single one so precious as this.
William, with a firm grip on my hand, pulled me in the direction of High Street. Surprised, I pulled back. “What is the hurry?”
“Your father owes you a wedding feast, does he not?”
I grinned. “That he does.”
I should have known Blanche would ruin it.
Why did my father seem bent on playing out the folly of our lives in the streets around our house? Why had Father Edmund said nothing about secretly marrying my sister that very morning? Almost that very moment? And why, why, why could I never have a joy of my own without Blanche taking it for hers?
As we came up to the house, all I wanted was to speak to my father, to collect the coins he owed us for my dowry now that we were, in fact, married, and leave. That, and force him to acknowledge that I had a better life without him. And if he did that, maybe I could even say thank you for this marriage that had opened my eyes.
Instead, we found my father and Master Lawry the elder on the step at the front of my house. Before them were Blanche and the younger Master Lawry, kneeling and half cowering as both fathers poured their disapproval over the heads of their children. I listened, stunned, as Father said such harsh words to Blanche as he had never said to her in her life. Words like “ungrateful” and “disrespectful” and “unworthy of my favor.”
We forced our way forward through the crowd of eager onlookers. I found myself clinging to William’s arm for support. “Why did she not wait for approval?” I whispered.
“Hush,” he whispered back, but nodded at the same time to let me know he agreed.
At last, their tirade spent, Father and Master Lawry drew back into the doorway and spoke quietly together. Then Master Lawry announced, “We are going to decide what is to be done about your dowry and your marriage portion”—here he pinned young Matthew Lawry with a sharp look—“of my lands and goods. But what’s done is done and, as the priests say, what God has joined…. Well.”
Blanche and Matthew, kneeling, dared to raise their heads, and I noted some of Blanche’s old confidence in her face again as the elder Master Lawry came forward to lay his hands on their heads and bestow his blessing. All eyes were on them. I may have been the only person who saw the look on my father’s face as he noticed me in the crowd and looked between his two daughters. His eyes moved from Blanche, who had deceived him, to Kathryn, who had done exactly as she was asked. I might have pitied his confusion, his clear sense of betrayal, had I not a lifetime of grudges piled up. As Master Lawry backed away, Father visibly shook himself and stepped forward to bless them, and I knew the moment had passed forever.
“Come,” Father said, “come inside my house. I will have a wedding dinner prepared for this young couple.”
Blanche and her husband rose, beaming, amid sounds of general merriment and approval. My hands clenched into fists, nails driving into my palms, except that where my hand grasped William’s arm, they drove into his sleeve. “A second time?” I said through gritted teeth. “She has had my wedding feast and now her own, and still I have none!”
William gently loosened my grip on his arm. I had left marks on the fabric. “Gently, my dear,” he said. “Remember why we are here, and it is not for a feast.”
“Indeed not.” But I was still shaking. How quickly it descended upon me, the old rage, the old injustice….
“Kate.” William slid his arms around me, clasping his hands at my waist, just tight enough to comfort and not bind. He murmured in my ear, “Kiss me, Kate.”
I squirmed in his arms, trying to face him. “Here? In the street?” The crowd that had gathered for the spectacle was now departing, some invited in for the feast, some heading back to the green to spread the gossip. Still, there were so many people about.
“Why not? You’re a married woman. Are you embarrassed?”
“Well, nay, but….”
He moved his lips a little, pressed a kiss behind my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “Should we leave instead?”
I was still shaking, but for an entirely different reason now.
“Wait.” He loosened his hold enough for me to twist around to face him.
Will. Who had seen me, seen me, from the moment we met. Who hadn’t slept or eaten either, to help me see myself.
In the middle of the street, in the middle of the day, I went up on my toes and lifted my lips to his.
It was better than the one on horseback, and hinted at more. Warmer, hotter, deeper. His hands tightened on my waist, pressing me close.
Damned armor, crushing the breath out of me.
Releasing me, he began to fumble with the straps at his shoulders, muttering under his breath, “Where is Gregory now that I need him?”
I glanced down the street, and sure enough, Gregory was coming, leading the horses from the church at a leisurely pace. “He comes. Let him help you with that, and then we will go in. You have not yet spoken to my father about the dowry.” I stepped back, clasping my hands to still their trembling. “Besides,” I added, “I have to see what happens at my horrible sister’s wedding party.”
William took my hands in his and kissed them, one then the other. “I would not deny you, if you wish it.”
Chapter 15
Friday
Blanche sat at the head of the hastily erected table in the courtyard with her new husband on display beside her like the Queen of England with a valuable new prize. Father beamed proudly, and the Mountain, roused from her bed yet again, gloated while she stuffed herself on the excellent dinner. I never once met her glance, but I could tell what she was thinking: both girls married in less than a fortnight, both with surprisingly little effort, both to prominent, important men.
I was surprised to see that Master Horton, seated near us at the table, also had a new wife by his side. Apparently, having seen something of my sister’s true nature, or at least having tired of being her plaything, he had married that widow in his cousin’s household. She was a stocky woman who, frankly, looked a great deal like him, right down to the dark hairs sprouting from her chin.
At the far end of the long table, Father raised his glass. “I bid you all, drink the health of the new-married couples, Blanche and Matthew, as well as Kathryn and William.”
A rousing cry of “The new-married couples” went up. I shook my head, fuming silently. Had they all forgotten that less than a week ago, William had failed to appear at the church? That he had taken me from this very house under cover of night? No one questioned whether I had wanted to go or not. No one cared whether we had ever had a church ceremony. No one wondered whether I was happy or well cared for. No one was asking any questions because there had been an agreement. And besides, it was only Kathryn. Blanche was the one who mattered, and Blanche was happy.
William covered my fisted hand with his. “Peace,” he said. “They don’t see you.”
I blew a long breath out of my mouth. He was right.
I smiled, unfurled my hand beneath his, and took a huge swallow of wine.
Old Master Greenwood, who of all the men had come up empty-handed in this matrimonial contest, said in a loud voice, “You gentlemen both seem to have done quite well for yourselves coming here to our town.”
Matthew, the young Master Lawry and now my brother, seemed at a loss. William raised his glass toward my father. “Whit
elock, and matrimony, have been nothing but kind.”
Master Horton, already a little drunk, murmured across the table to William, “For both our sakes, I hope your words are true.” I glanced at his wife, sitting beside him, who could not have missed his comment. I realized I did not even know her name.
William smiled at him and said to me, “Why, I do believe my friend Horton fears his bride!”
The woman frowned at William. “I am not afraid of him.”
“You mistake my meaning, mistress,” William said. “I mean to say, he is afraid of you.”
“He that is giddy thinks the world turns round,” she muttered, looking pointedly at me.
“Roundly replied,” William said, clearly dismissing her, but I would not let it rest.
I leaned forward, planting my elbows on the table. “‘He that is giddy thinks the world turns round,’” I repeated. “I pray you, tell me what you mean by that.”
Of course, I knew exactly what she meant.
Master Horton put a hand on his wife’s arm and laughed nervously. “Now, now, my dear. It is a wedding party, after all.”
His wife drew herself up and looked over at me. “Your husband,” she said, “being burdened by a shrew for a wife, thinks my husband to be in the same situation. Which, of course, he isn’t.” She smiled, a singularly unpleasant thing. “And now you know my meaning.”
I turned to William, whose eyes were bright with restrained mirth. “I still cannot make out her meaning, husband.”
Master Horton shook his head and groaned. “Sir William, please….”
William rested a hand on my arm and leaned in close. “Don’t give her what she wants,” he whispered. “Don’t be who she expects.”
I settled back in my chair and smiled across the table at Master Horton’s wife. “Oh, all right. But surely she knows that by any proper measure, she falls well within the mean.”
I was watching her puzzling through my words, trying to make out whether she should take offense—oh, yes, yes, you should—when Blanche stood up at the head of the table. “I need my sister’s help in preparing for my departure to my husband’s home.”
William took my hand as I started to get up from my seat beside him, tugging gently until I bent to him. He whispered a single word in my ear, his breath stirring my hair, warm on my skin. “Peace” was all he said, a reminder, but his touch had the opposite effect.
The Mountain struggled up from her chair. “Can’t do it without me,” she insisted, and I found that awful woman, Dame Horton, behind me as I made my way inside. I suppose she took our departure as a signal for a general withdrawal of the ladies from the head table.
The sound of merrymaking in the courtyard below drifted up through Blanche’s window. I picked my way across the room, avoiding the clothes strewn on the floor, and looked out. Some of the guests had begun to dance on the small lawn, laughing as they tried to avoid the fountain and flower beds. The men still at the head table grew more raucous, jesting and clinking their glasses together. I turned back to survey the room and sighed. Of course she asked for me. She didn’t want to have to clean up all by herself.
The Mountain lumbered in, supported by Margaret, and deposited herself on the bed. She picked halfheartedly at a linen chemise, perfect for summer. I wished I had one under this silk kirtle, which by now was clinging to my skin in interesting ways. “This’ll do for now,” she grunted, “but you must make your husband buy you new things. Fine things.”
“Naturally,” Blanche replied, tossing a blue chemise at me to fold. “He will do whatever I ask of him.”
I took the gown by the shoulders and gave it a firm shake to get out the wrinkles. Blanche scowled at me. “Have a care, Kathryn.”
I did not even look at her, folding the chemise shoulder to shoulder. “He will do whatever I ask of him.” Blanche knew nothing.
Dame Horton picked up another item of clothing and rumpled it into something resembling a folded mass. “My Master Horton has promised me a new kirtle of brocade and one of velvet, once his latest shipments have arrived.”
Blanche smirked. “How nice for you.”
“Now, Blanche,” said the Mountain, “you know what is expected of you as a wife, in your husband’s house.”
Dame Horton smiled wickedly. “Aye, and in his bed?”
I cringed. Oh, surely not this.
From outside came the pounding of fists on the table and shouts of laughter. “A hundred,” someone shouted, and “No halves” someone else called. What was going on out there? It sounded like wagers. Could I possibly escape this dreadful conversation and join whatever game the men were playing?
Dropping the folded chemise into a small trunk, I shut my ears to words like “the staff of his manhood” and picked up another one. I tried to ignore the Mountain’s rumbling voice, Dame Horton’s cackle, Blanche’s high, almost nervous laugh. The door opened suddenly. I looked up, immensely grateful.
Benton, a servant of Matthew Lawry’s father, stood in the doorway. He made a pretty bow in Blanche’s direction. “Mistress, my master your husband sends me to bid you come to him.”
The women fell silent. I kept my hands in the trunk, not moving. This was going to be interesting.
Blanche looked at him as if she had never seen his like before. “Your master says what?”
To his credit, the fellow did not flinch. “My master Lawry, your new-wedded husband, sends me to bid you come to him.”
Blanche waved a scarf in the air. “My husband bids me come to him.”
He looked relieved. “Yes, mistress.”
Blanche smiled. I knew that smile. Poor fellow. “Please, do tell your master I am busy—” she gestured at the messy room about her “—and I cannot come.”
“This…” Poor Benton looked around the room. I busied myself with the clothes in the trunk. “This is your answer, mistress?”
“Indeed. Now leave us.”
He bowed again, not quite as prettily as before, and left, closing the door softly behind him. The other women erupted in shouts of laughter.
Dame Horton slapped Blanche on the shoulder. “Now let’s see how he takes it.”
They rushed to the window, falling to their knees so they would not be seen. The Mountain, perhaps knowing she could not so conceal herself, perhaps not really caring what was going on now that we girls were married and no longer under her charge, settled herself deeper into the pillows. I hesitated, but I had to know what was going on in the courtyard. I scurried over behind Blanche and leaned against the side of the window.
“Indeed?” my husband was saying. “She is busy and cannot come? This is her answer?” His voice was huge with astonishment. I wanted to laugh out loud but dared not.
Young Matthew was downcast, shaking his head as the other men laughed at him. “It is fine for you to say so, Sir William,” Master Greenwood chided. “You had best pray that your wife does not send you a worse reply.”
“Indeed, Master Greenwood, I do hope for better.”
Master Horton gestured to Benton. “All right, Benton. Go and entreat my wife to come here to me at once.”
William laughed. “Oh, entreat her. Oh, well, then surely she will come.”
Master Horton frowned at him. “Say what you will, sir. Your wife will never come.”
We all scrambled away from the window, expecting Benton at any moment. “They’re up to something,” Dame Horton said. “I’ll have none of it.”
I went back to folding my sister’s clothes. The others didn’t bother with the pretense and stood staring at the door, awaiting Benton.
When he swept into the room and bowed, he seemed to notice right away that something was wrong. His smile faltered. “Mistress Horton, if it please you, your good husband sends me to entreat you come join him. At once.” He swallowed loudly and repeated, “If it please you.”
Dame Horton crossed her arms over her broad bosom, frowning down upon the boy. “Nay, it does not please me. I am not a dog t
o be summoned or a toy to be used in such a manner. Let my husband come to me.”
Benton did not stay for further abuse but bowed while backing out the door. Blanche congratulated Dame Horton on her reply, shaking her hand.
We returned to the window. Benton had arrived in the courtyard to make his report. Master Horton was now the butt of laughter.
“Oh, this is terrible,” William said. “Worse and worse. This is intolerable. This is not to be endured! Gregory, go to your mistress and say I command her to come to me.”
Master Horton snorted. “I have known her longer than you, sir. I know what her answer will be.”
We rearranged ourselves once again. Gregory came to the door. His bow, though not as pretty as Benton’s, was perfectly respectful. “Milady,” he said. I did like the way that sounded, here, in this room, with these people. “My master, your husband, commands that you attend him.”
I could hear Blanche giggling. Dame Horton, like her husband, snorted. The Mountain rumbled.
I stood up from Blanche’s traveling trunk. “And so I come.”
The women fell silent.
I followed Gregory down the stairs. He glanced back at me once, only once, and there was satisfaction on his face. I smiled at him as he passed out into the courtyard. I paused in the wide archway, making sure they all marked me. “What is your will, husband, that you send for me?”
My father swore an oath for which he would have to do penance.
William had his back to the door, as though he cared little for my arrival. With great indifference, he turned to face me. “Why, where is your sister? Where is Master Horton’s wife?”
I tossed my head up at the window. “They are upstairs, chatting in Blanche’s room.”
“Bring them down here. If they refuse to come, beat them until they relent. Go now, and bring them here at once.”
I dropped a neat curtsy and went.
The sound of the men’s voices followed me up the stairs. “A wonder,” and “a marvel,” they said.
Not so. Just not what you expected. I smiled to myself.
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