Chapter 13 #3
“Yes. And I confess I find myself dreaming about being in his arms,” Annette whispered. “I know it is very wicked of me but I cannot help it.”
“Don’t be ashamed. You have chosen him to be your husband, so it is only natural that you should want to be with him in that way.
Anything different would be worrying, I think.
” She gave her sister a pat on the hand.
“Worry not, if he loves you, I’m sure he will be gentle with you.
Even if the first time is supposed to be uncomfortable it will surely improve with time. ”
Yes. It will improve. Your man’s caresses will make all the air leave your lungs and every muscle in your body contract with pleasure. It will be the most bewildering, delicious thing you’ve ever felt.
“Thank you, sister.” Annette gave her hand a squeeze. “I knew you wouldn’t think less of me for wanting—”
“I don’t. And I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”
Suddenly Katherine wished she, too, was about to marry the man of her dreams. Her heart constricted in her chest. Such a thing would never happen, considering that the man of her dreams was a lord living in a distant land, and married already.
She might as well wish to marry the future king of England.
“What about you, have you found yourself a sweetheart in Wales?” Annette had seemed to read her mind. “Or are the men there as rugged and unrefined as everyone says?”
“Not at all,” Katherine said firmly. In fact, everyone she had met there had been either exceptionally cultured and patient—poor Master Owain came to mind—or loyal and good-natured like Gwyn the squire and Cadell, Siaspar’s foster brother.
Then, of course, there was Siaspar himself.
Men did not come more perfect than him. “Don’t believe everything you hear.
Gilbert the cooper is the most foulmouthed, coarse individual anyone has ever met and yet he is not Welsh, is he? ”
Annette giggled. “No. He’s as English as they come. But you did not answer my first question. Have you met anyone?”
Katherine should have known that her diversion would not work.
“No, I have not,” she said, doing her best to sound convincing. It was a lie but how could she tell her sister that the only man she entertained ideas about was her lord and master?
“Good, because Walter is always asking after you. I think he is hoping to offer for your hand when you finally come back to live—”
“No, don’t tell him I’m here!” Katherine cried out, taking her sister’s arm in her panic. “I cannot… I do not want to marry him.”
Annette was taken back by the sudden outburst. She stopped, making Katherine stop in turn.
“Why, what happened? I thought you cared for him.”
“I did. I do, but not in that way.” The miller’s son was more like a brother to her.
Every time he had jested that they should get married one day, she had brushed him away, knowing in her heart of hearts that she did not want to be his wife, despite the fact that everyone seemed to have married the two of them off already.
Now she wanted it less than ever. Walter was little more than a boy and it was impossible to imagine herself in his arms, being touched in the way Siaspar had touched her. “I will not marry him.”
“Well. I thought you would be happy to leave an employ you never wanted and come back to your village,” Annette commented slowly. “But that was before I saw how grand you had become. Now you seem to prefer—”
“No, it’s not like that! I do not think that Walter is not prestigious enough for me,” Katherine interrupted, brushing tears from her eyes.
Would no one allow her to try and deal with her complicated emotions on her own?
Could they not see how difficult this all was for her?
“These clothes do not belong to me, and I do not have aspirations above my station. I am nothing, I do know that, but even if I had never left to go to Wales, I still would never have married Walter.”
“Is that so?” Annette sounded rather displeased at the declaration.
Then she shook her head, as if aggrieved by the sudden gulf between them.
“Well, if you have changed your mind, then it would seem I was right. You have met someone who is waiting for you to come back, someone who has made you forget all about poor Walter.”
To Katherine’s dismay, the tears that had gathered in her eyes spilled over onto her cheeks. Why was this so difficult?
“No, there is no one waiting for me in Wales.”
He’s here, in England, barely three miles away. And he is most definitely not waiting for me.
“Thank you for walking with me for a while, but I need to go,” she told her sister, gathering the hem of her gown to ensure it would not trail in the mud.
How apt an image this was. Her world and Siaspar’s would never be able to co-exist, just like this silk gown was not supposed to be worn in the forest. “I don’t want my absence to be detected.
But I promise I will come back as soon as I can. ”
She hurried away before Annette could respond.