Chapter Fourteen #2
She started laughing. “That is not what I was going to say,” she said. “Well, not much. You may be older than me, but I have no intention of leaving you for a younger man. Most men my age are still children. I cannot stand the thought of being married to someone like that.”
“Fortunately, you do not have to worry over it.”
“Luckily for me,” she said. “But that brings about my question. With your lineage, how on earth have you not been married before now? To a wealthy princess or prestigious lord’s daughter?”
He sat back in the chair and propped an ankle on his thigh as he began to unlace his boots.
“Simple,” he said. “I did not know of my lineage until a few years ago. Until then, I thought I was an orphan. I was adopted by Juston and his wife, so I had parents who loved me, but they never told me about my true lineage.”
“How did you find out?”
He grunted. “In a most unpleasant way,” he said. “There was an incident with one of John’s royal assassins, a man who knew who I was, and because of an encounter, the Marshal was forced to tell me of my lineage for my own safety.”
With her hair unbraided, Andromeda picked up a comb. “There are men after you?”
He shook his head. “Not now,” he said. “But when John was alive, he wanted me, probably because I was his only real competition for the throne. Had I any ambition, I might have been a real threat, but I have no desire to rule England. With young Henry on the throne and the Marshal advising him, I have made it clear that I am no threat. I do not want to rule. God, what chaos that would be.”
She smiled as she ran a comb through her locks.
“Truer words were never spoken,” she said.
“There are still supporters of my grandfather who would like to use me for the same purpose, but I cannot imagine agreeing to such a thing. I do not want to rule Dublin. I would be in a knife fight every day of my life, for the rest of my life. What a terrible prospect.”
He finished unlacing the boot and yanked it off.
“But if you ruled Ireland and I ruled England, we would be the most powerful rulers since Alexander the Great,” he said.
“In fact, a marriage like this could be seen, by some, as an alliance between Ireland and England. It could be viewed as a threat to many people in both countries.”
She made her way over to him, brushing the ends of her hair thoughtfully. “I suppose it could,” she said. “Does it feel like an alliance to you?”
He grinned as he pulled his other boot up and began unlacing it. “It feels like a dream,” he said softly. “My dream. I hope it will be your dream, too.”
She paused in front of him, smiling at his sweet words. “It already is,” she said. “I am perfectly happy to live the rest of my life as a garrison commander’s wife. It’s more than I ever hoped for, truly.”
“Happy?”
“More than I’ve ever been.”
“Good,” he said, pulling off his other boot. “Because it is my intention to make you deliriously joyful every moment of every day, for as long as you will let me. We are going to be very happy together, you and I.”
Andromeda went to him, wrapping her arms around his head as he enveloped her in his powerful embrace.
He had his head between her breasts, hearing her heartbeat strong and steady in his ear, as she gently ran her finger through his hair.
It was a touching moment, one of hope and joy. A moment of peace.
For just this brief and shining moment, there was just the two of them in the entire world.
They stayed like that for quite some time, silently holding one another, as the fire in the hearth crackled softly. Tristan finally patted her buttocks gently.
“I’m weary,” he said. “Shall we retire?”
Andromeda nodded, releasing him from her grip and making her way back over to the dressing table.
Next to it was a small alcove with a painted wooden screen in front of it, something Flora and Aldis had set up as a dressing area.
Some of her clothing was behind the screen, hanging from pegs in the alcove, including a luxurious sleeping shift that had been found in the cache of clothing in the painted wardrobe.
It had been too large, like everything else they found there, but Aldis had managed to alter it so it fit perfectly.
Made from silk and lamb’s wool, it was a divine piece of clothing.
Setting her comb down on the dressing table, she slipped behind the screen and disappeared.
Tristan noticed.
“What are you doing back there?” he called to her.
“Changing to a sleeping shift,” she said. “Can we eat before we go to bed? I haven’t eaten since this morning.”
He was already over at the table that held the food and drink. “Of course,” he said. “There’s quite enough here. I suppose they left enough so we would not want for more until tomorrow, at least.”
There were two big pewter plates on the table, also part of the trove from the storage room, and he began putting food upon them both.
There was a small iron pot filled with chunks of beef in gravy, along with bread, cheese, and dried fruit.
He piled both plates up, and as he turned for the bed, Andromeda emerged from behind the painted screen.
Tristan paused, drinking in the sight of her as she approached. In the delicate shift that draped in all of the right places, she looked like an angel.
“My God,” he murmured. “You are a glorious creature, Lady de Royans.”
Andromeda blushed furiously. “You are supposed to say that,” she said. “You are my husband.”
“Indeed I am,” he said. “But I say it because it is the truth. Come; sit on the bed. We’ll eat on the coverlet and try not to make a mess.”
She giggled softly, following him over to the bed. She climbed onto the middle of the bed, and he set a plate down in front of her carefully as he sat at the head, leaning against the pillows with the plate on his lap.
They began to eat.
“Your cook is very talented,” Andromeda said as she took a bite of bread. “He looks like he should be shoveling out stalls, but he knows a great deal about the kitchen and food. Where did you find him?”
Tristan’s mouth was full. “Pembroke,” he said. “Having him here was the only real comfort I had until you arrived. It was just a garrison then, Andie. You have made it a home.”
She smiled modestly. “You gave me a roof over my head and a place to stay,” she said. “I wanted to be worthy of your generosity.”
“You are more than worthy,” he said. “In fact, I fear that I may be lacking where you are concerned. You are worthy of a great man.”
“I have a great man,” she said. “You are a great man, Pat. Do you not even realize that?”
He shook his head, putting more food in his mouth. “I am nothing,” he said, chewing. “A royal bastard, that is all.”
“And I am the granddaughter of a murdered king,” she said. “I think we must stop looking at our heritage as something terrible. We are what we are, but the future is ours to shape. That is what will define us. It will define our children as well.”
He looked at her then. “Strange,” he said. “I’ve never thought of children until now.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “Because I never thought I would marry, I suppose.”
“Now you will not jump away from me when I touch you.”
He knew what she meant, and he lowered his head, terrified she was going to see that she’d embarrassed him. “Nay, I will not jump away,” he said. “I am yours to touch now.”
Andromeda couldn’t help but notice he didn’t seem overly eager about it. She swallowed the bite in her mouth and put her plate aside.
“What is wrong, Pat?” she asked.
His eyes flicked up to her. “What do you mean?”
She cocked her head. “I mean that you will kiss me ferociously, but whenever I have touched your groin, you act as if I have struck you with lightning,” she said. “Is there something I should know about?”
He was shaking his head before she even finished. “Nay,” he said firmly. But then he sighed heavily. “It is nothing, really.”
“What is it? Please tell me.”
He swallowed the bite in his mouth and pushed his plate aside also. “You want total truth between us, and I have agreed,” he said. “But this… this is difficult for me. I do not speak on my emotions or personal matters easily.”
“Don’t you like to be touched there?”
“I do,” he said quickly. “It’s simply that… God, this is worse than I thought.”
“I will not force you to tell me if you are not ready to.”
He shook his head and stood up from the bed. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, or courage, or both. Andromeda sat patiently, watching him unfasten the belt at his waist and toss it over the back of a chair before turning to her.
“I haven’t done this in quite a while.”
“Done what?”
He pointed to the bed. “What we must do to consummate the marriage.”
Her eyes widened. “You have done this before?”
“Did you think I hadn’t?”
“I haven’t.”
He was trying not to smile at her indignation. “You are a woman, and a young one at that,” he said. “Women do not give themselves over to anyone but their husbands.”
Andromeda didn’t know why she felt so incensed by his confession. He was an older man, seasoned and worldly. Of course he would have had other women before her. It would have been ridiculous if he hadn’t. But it still didn’t sit well with her to think her sweet husband had other lovers in the past.
Faceless, nameless women touching the man she loved.
“I think that is a silly standard,” she said. “A woman must keep herself pure, but a man must not.”
“A man does not want a rose that is wilted because others have touched it.”
She scowled. “Ridiculous,” she said. “The reality is that I married the leavings of other women, and I am going to assume they were like the wenches in the tavern that I saw. Surely you did not… do this… with a proper lady?”
He put his hand over his mouth so she wouldn’t see his grin. “Does it matter?”
“How would you feel if other men had touched me before you?”
“I wouldn’t like it in the least.”