Chapter 21
Ash
Upon their return to the hall, Agnes was immediately met by Sara, who looked deeply concerned. After reassuring Ash and Olly that she would be fine, Agnes let Sara drag her away to the corner of the hall, where they appeared to be deep in conversation.
‘I think I worried Agnes’s friend,’ Olly said, pulling Ash to sit at a low bench and handing him a cup of wine. ‘I hope Agnes will be all right.’
‘As do I.’ Ash sighed. ‘Thank you for looking after her. I should have been there.’
Olly gripped his arm. ‘You were busy. She does not blame your absence.’
‘What was wrong?’
Olly took a while to reply. ‘I think it was the same affliction that troubled her yesterday.’
Ash opened his mouth. Shut it again. He was surprised Agnes had told Olly so much. It was her secret to share, of course, but before it had been something shared between just them. He didn’t know what to make of it.
‘Oh,’ he said. And then, truthfully: ‘I am glad you were with her. I worry about her— her affliction.’
Ash tried to put it out of his mind. He swirled his wine, considering when he was permitted to begin shooing people out of his home. And then the shouting began.
‘The bedding!’
Shit. A sense of dread settled low in Ash’s stomach. Olly put down his mug, looking amused.
‘I had forgotten about this.’ He grinned.
Ash shot him an acerbic look but could not launch a retort before he was surrounded by a group of drunk guests, being led by Roland, who appeared to be having a marvellous time. Just behind him Ash noticed Raff, looking hugely embarrassed, and Penn – on the verge of laughter.
‘Come on, my boy,’ Roland bellowed. ‘Time for the best part of the night!’
Ash spotted Agnes across the room, surrounded by women.
Sara was at her arm, whispering something to her.
She appeared unamused by the whole affair: likely because she had already gone through this rigmarole with her late husband.
She saw him watching her from across the hall and gave him an apologetic look.
They were shepherded by their respective groups to the centre of the room. The priest, who had been watching proceedings from afar, joined them. Ash’s sense of dread became even heavier.
He glanced at Agnes, who gave him a small, supportive smile. And then someone pushed him from behind, and they were being led up the staircase towards his chambers.
‘Sorry about this.’ He looked around. Raff had joined him at his side. ‘But it is tradition.’
‘I am not sorry at all.’ Penn appeared at his other side. ‘This is wonderfully fun. I can only assume you are very glad I never managed to marry your sister now.’
Ash grumbled at him, but before he could launch an insult back – or push Penn down the stairs – they reached his chamber door and he was shoved inside.
They placed him on one side of the bed, Agnes on the other.
He looked across at her, attempting to silently convey a barrage of thoughts: I am sorry. This is ridiculous. You do not have to—
The priest raised a hand, and the rambunctious crowd at last fell silent.
He muttered a prayer in Latin over the bed.
Ash shot a look out of the corner of his eye towards Olly, who appeared to be doing his very best not to laugh.
Someone passed Ash a goblet of wine, which he took gratefully.
It was only when Olly nudged him – and he heard giggling – that he realised he was supposed to pass it across to Agnes to drink from too.
The giggling became laughter, which melded into shouting once again. Ash glanced across at Agnes, who was now looking pink about the ears, as their guests called out words of encouragement and – much to Ash’s displeasure – marital hints.
Someone pushed him onto the bed, and then Sara grabbed Agnes’s arms, forcing her down beside him. There was a moment of complete confusion, then the hanging curtains around the bed were pulled closed, locking them both in darkness.
‘Good luck!’
Ash and Agnes shared a look as Olly’s voice rang out amongst the others, and then, at last, the door shut and silence fell.
Ash collapsed backwards onto the bed with a sigh.
‘Last time,’ Agnes whispered, ‘they undressed us. It was awful.’
‘That sounds dreadful,’ Ash said. ‘I would be subject to teasing for months. Every time I saw Roland he would ask me about my prick.’
Agnes leaned back against the pillows. ‘Do you think they are outside the door, listening?’ she whispered.
Ash groaned into his hands. ‘Oh Lord. Probably. Is that what one does at these things? To ensure consummation?’
‘It is not as if they can check if I bleed,’ Agnes said. ‘Ash … ?’
‘Yes?’
‘Thank you. It has been a good day, even if it is all for show.’
Ash had not been expecting that. ‘You are welcome,’ he said.
‘I know that our arrangement is unusual,’ Agnes continued, ‘but I cannot think of anyone else who I would prefer to have such an unusual arrangement with. Truly.’
She reached out and took his hand. A frisson of something sparked up Ash’s spine.
‘Nor could I,’ he said. ‘Given all that has happened … I am glad it is you here with me.’
They sat for a while longer, Ash wondering exactly how long it would take to convince the guests and well-wishers that they had done their part, and then there was a knock at the chamber door. They both froze. Ash waited for a suitable amount of time before calling out.
‘Yes?’
‘It is me!’
He relaxed at once. ‘Olly,’ he hissed towards Agnes. ‘Come in!’ he called, pulling the bedcurtains open.
Olly slid in, opening the door just a crack.
‘You know,’ he said, as he sauntered over. ‘There was a little crowd determined to stand outside and listen to you. I saw them off.’
Ash made a disgusted face as Agnes laughed. ‘I told you they would. Thank you, Oliver. Are they still out there?’
Olly shook his head, picking up the discarded goblet from beside the bed and helping himself to wine.
‘There are a few left in the hall, but now the fun of it is over most have headed home, or bedded down for the night.’
‘Marvellous.’ Agnes stood up, straightening out her skirts. ‘That means I can finally retire and be out of this gown.’ She turned back to the bed. ‘Again, Ash: thank you. I really am glad to be your wife.’
As she left the room, she walked past Olly. She paused, laying a hand to his arm.
‘Remember,’ she said, ‘it is your lord’s wedding night. Do make it a good one.’
Olly looked as stunned as Ash felt as Agnes left the room, shutting the door behind her.
‘Well,’ he said, making his way over to the bed. ‘I suppose she is the mistress of this keep, now.’ He settled himself on his knees at Ash’s side. ‘I ought to do as she commands.’
Ash looked up at him. He could already feel himself twitching into life in his breeches. He swallowed.
‘I think you ought.’