Синтия Хэррод-Иглз - The Founding

Under their direction the foot-deep mulch of filthy rushes was cleared out of the hall and fresh rushes put down. Sweetening was generally done quarterly, but quarter-day was only a month past, and there was more like six-months-worth of garbage there. It seemed clear to Eleanor that no one felt responsible for ordering such things in this household and that they were done very much at hap-hazard. The trestles and benches were scrubbed white with holystone, and all bad plaster was scraped off the walls and replaced.

In the bedchamber, they had the walls painted with a design of red and yellow roses and green vines. The bedcurtains and coverlet which Eleanor had brought with her were of crimson and yellow striped cloth lined with sarcenet, and she had also two green cushions embroidered with yellow and white daisies which she put on top of her little silveroak clothes chest to make a seat. With oiled linen stretched across the windows to let in light while keeping out the wind and rain, and a brazier of charcoals kept alight all the time, the bedchamber was soon the brightest and pleasantest room in the house. Since there was no solar, Eleanor planned to use it as a sitting room as well as a bedroom. It was the only place in the house where there was enough light to work on those days when the weather was too bad to have the shutters open.

Planning these improvements and carrying them out meant that Eleanor and Robert were much in each other's company, and from time to time she found herself agreeably surprised by something he said or did which revealed his education or gentlemanly upbringing. When it could be arranged, he took her out on horseback to see as much of the estate as possible, and those were the occasions on which he felt the happiest. Riding Dodman, with her puppy, whom she had called Gelert, on the front of the saddle, Eleanor would follow him out into the fields or up on to the moors. The wind would bring colour to her cheeks and brighten her eyes, and the fresh air acted like wine on her spirits. Robert, cantering old Sygnus slowly to match Dodman's short-legged pace, would watch her adoringly. He worshipped her, and would have given his life to please her, but pleasing her was not that easy. One moment she might be laughing with him, or even at him, talking eagerly about what could be done to make the house cheerful and bright, and the next she would withdraw to that icy distance and regard him with cold eyes that seemed almost contemptuous.

He did not know what caused those changes of mood, but that did not make him love her less. Queens and goddesses were known to be capricious. As to Eleanor, she could not so soon forget her home and the hopes she had had to give up, and any small thing was likely to remind her. Out in the fields or on the moors she was happiest and most at ease — for grass and heather in Yorkshire smelled much like grass and heather in Dorsetshire, and under the open sky she could pretend that she was back home and all was well.

*

In the evening of the third of November, Eleanor stood trembling by the side of the handsomely decorated bed as Gaby undressed her of her bridal finery. The room was lit with handsome beeswax candles and scented with potpourri, and between the fine sheets of the bridal bed rose-petals had been scattered, for Gaby was determined that everything should be as well done for her mistress as if she had married a lord. Gaby had eaten well and drunk better during the feast that followed the return from the church of Holy Trinity 'within the gate, and her eyes were moist and her cheeks flushed as she undressed her mistress.

‘You looked like a Queen today, my little lady,' Gaby said, drawing the surcoat of russet velvet trimmed with fox over Eleanor's head. 'I always knew you'd grow up to be a beautiful woman, but you've never looked so lovely as today. And your husband looked as fine as a man may be in his wedding clothes. Even Jacques was saying that we need not be ashamed of our new master, for all that we worked for Lord Edmund.’

Eleanor said nothing, letting Gaby chatter on as she took off her cotte and her underlinen and helped her on with her nightgown. She scarcely listened, for her mind was far away and, though she knew that it was wicked, indescribably wicked on her wedding night, she was thinking what it would all have been like had it been Richard she had just married. I would not be afraid if it were him I was waiting for, she thought. I should be so proud and happy. But tonight, in a few minutes, Robert will come through that door and we shall be left alone together, and then all hope will be gone. I shall belong to him for the rest of my life.

Gaby took out the pins from Eleanor's hair and let it tumble to her shoulders and then took up the hairbrush. ‘Such lovely hair you have, child, it always seems a shame to cover it up. Well, your husband will see it in all its glory, and he's the only man who ever will. We must hope he appreciates it as he should. There now, smooth and glossy as a rook's wing! I think you are ready, my precious. Shall I call them in?’

Eleanor drew her trembling lip between her teeth and nodded, and Gaby touched her arm comfortingly. 'Don't be afraid,' she said. 'Remember he is also young, and perhaps also nervous. You will help each other.’

And Eleanor flung her arms round her impulsively and hugged her. 'Oh Gaby,' she said, ‘what would I have done if you hadn't been here? I couldn't have borne it.'

‘Of course you could, silly girl! But old Gaby's here, she'll never leave you. Now then, now then — stand tall, my love, and I'll call them in.’

Robert had been undressed by his groomsmen and was now led in, also clad in his nightgown, by his father, and followed by the rest of the wedding party. Ceremoniously the couple were put into bed, and, sitting up side by side, they were given the loving cup to drink from, while their father pronounced a blessing and the guests made various loud and laughing remarks which, fortunately, Eleanor could not understand since they were in the local dialect. Robert understood them, however, and though he grinned his cheeks turned from red to white.

Morland, mazy with ale and wine, clapped his son on the back and jerked a thumb towards his new daughter-in-law who sat, neither smiling nor crying, beside him.

‘She looks frozen, lad,' Morland said. 'You'll need to thaw her a bit. Do your bit like a man.' He belched softly and leaned closer. 'I've bought thee a gradely yow, and put thee to her. The rest is up to thee. Tup her right and mak her sweet, and she'll yean thee bonny lambs.' He straightened up and waved the empty cup in the air. 'A son! A son!' he shouted, and the guests joined in with cheers and laughter. The couple were bedded, and the curtains drawn, and the guests marched out of the chamber to resume their drinking and merry-making below.

In the bedchamber the silence that fell was oppressive. In the close and smothering darkness of the curtained bed, the young people lay side by side, not touching or speaking, but so aware of each other that they almost felt each other's breathing. Robert's mind rang with his father's words: ‘Tup her right and mak her sweet'; but to him she was already sweet, the finest flower of womanhood. He adored her, loved her so wildly it was like a fever in his blood, yet he felt himself unworthy. How could he even make so bold as to touch her? He, who was so low and uncouth, and she who was like an angel. And yet he wanted her, so much that he trembled. The image was in his mind of her white body clothed only in that long black hair. He groaned inwardly with his private struggle.

Eleanor waited, passively. There was nothing she could do to escape her fate, but she was not going to do anything that might smack of compromise. Inside she rebelled, she would not accept this clumsy farmer. He might — he must indeed — take her body, but that was all he should have, and that unwillingly, without grace, without kindness. She waited — but why did he not make a move? She knew what was to come, she knew what was to be done — why did he not begin? In the silence that prolonged itself, the tension grew, stretching their nerves taut.