Read As Meat Loves Salt Online

Authors: Maria McCann

As Meat Loves Salt (10 page)

BOOK: As Meat Loves Salt
12.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

'She is an angel,'I said, as all bridegrooms do. I scented pomade on Caro's hair and wanted to touch it, but feared to spoil the hairdresser's work. Tears stood in my eyes, I could hardly have said why.

'Pray come this way — this way, friends—' That was Peter, whose job it was to shepherd the guests to their rightful places. I turned to see him leading them to some trestle tables disposed about the knot garden. There was one table longer than the rest and he waved laughingly to me, to show that was where we should sit when the thing was done. Half stunned, I listened to the shuffling and rustling, the chatter and laughs as Godfrey helped folk arrange themselves. The field workers were put in a separate group near the hedge. I remembered the day when Caro and I had sat on the knot garden bench and quarrelled over Zeb's secret.

Holding hands, we stood in the midst of those assembled as if summoned before the officers. Before us on the cloths were light and creamy things, suitable for bride tables: chicken cullis, Devonshire whitepot, quaking pudding and (I thought of Mervyn) a row of syllabubs, each in a separate vessel with a cunning spout for drinking off the liquor. Music drifted from the far end of the knot garden, where a small group of hired players kept a respectful distance. The guests

spread themselves and fluffed out their garments, the better to enjoy the warmth of the day.

'Time we married, Izzy, if this be how it is,' proclaimed Zeb from the end of the long table, and I wondered if, despite his fears, he still missed Patience.

'Do you know your words?' Caro whispered.

'Yes, but no matter if I forget.' I had insisted we should have the
sponsalia
(as the betrothal was called in Latin)
de praesenti,
for such a betrothal, even without witnesses, made us one just as if we had been joined by the priest. It needed only the swearing of vows. I had a horror of being married by My Lady's 'spiritual director', who stank of Rome, or by Doctor Phelps, the pastor of the village church, who had once preached there that the poor, being God's special care, should rather be envied than relieved, and that a poor man who complained of his lot did so at the instigation of Mammon, naked greed, 'for sure he had not the breeding to make right use of riches if he had them'. On that occasion I had sat sizing up the man of God, allowing myself- in fancy- to beat him to his knees. No one had ever fought me and won, and I did not think the good doctor would be the first. Now, with Peter's glass of wine warming me to a pleasant freedom, I felt more than ever that Phelps was best away. Wed to such a wife as Caro, I thought, 'tis a poor return to break the parson's teeth.

'Why do you laugh?' Caro pulled on my sleeve.

'I'll tell you later.' Smiling to myself, I glanced up and saw Godfrey coming over to us.

'It is now. O, I feel sick,' murmured Caro.

My Lady looked tenderly at her across the dishes of food, calling, 'Take heart, child. A few minutes and you are man and wife.'

Now I was the one suddenly sick, not for the stumbling words of a vow, or that I might speak foolishly before the company, but for the huge thing I had undertaken. There might come a time, and soon, when my wife repented of her bargain, but there was no breaking off after this, though we should prove scorpions to one another. I saw Zeb staring at me, wondering, it might be, what was become of Patience, or envious of what I had won for my own.

'Here, wife.' I put my arm under Caro's to steady her trembling. Under our feet was the flagged square at the centre of the maze, and around us the knot garden, with other stone flags supporting the trestles. The young men gawped and grinned, while their lasses dug them in the ribs and devoured Caro's gown with their eyes. Older people looked wistful, or dabbed at their cheeks. My mother sniffled. I heard speeches on my looks, and on hers, spoken out loud as if we were both of us deaf. Izzy nodded to me as if to say, it would come right. Most of all I remarked Zeb, whose features looked to be carved in stone. Though I fixed him, eye to eye, he appeared unaware; one would say he looked not at me, but through me.

'Have you the ring? Give it here.' Godfrey thrust a swollen square of lacy stuff towards us.

Caro glanced down at the lace and giggled. 'My Lady's pin-cushion.'

I put the scrap of gold on it. Godfrey snapped his fingers. A little boy in silks ran forward and was placed officiously to my left to hold the cushion. The steward, plainly happy in his work, stepped aside with a swirling movement and the guests grew quiet.

'Friends, we are here to witness the solemn contract of two of our company,' Godfrey announced. 'Known to us all, and respected by all as honest folk and faithful servants. We pray that their union may be long, happy and fruitful.'

'Amen,' I answered along with the rest. The moment was come. Clearing my throat, I took a firm grip on Caro's left hand. 'I, Jacob, do take thee, Caroline, to my wife, from this day forth, and do call on these here present to witness.' I then took the wedding band (the boy near bursting with importance all this while) and worked it over her finger. 'In token of which, I do give thee this ring.'

Her flesh was cold and damp: I pressed it between my warmer, drier palms to infuse her with strength. The music had ceased, and as I thus soothed her I heard jackdaws bickering somewhere on the house roof. Caro now turned to me and said in a high breathless voice, 'I, Caroline, do take thee, Jacob, to my husband, from this day forth, and do call on these here present to witness.'

I smiled at her. She immediately coughed, was seized by a spasm, and beat her hand against her lace with a frightened movement. A

kindly laugh rose from the company, at which her cough cleared. She touched her finger, turning on me a joyous smile: 'In token of which I do accept this ring.'

And with those few words and that paltry circlet of metal Caro and I were made one flesh. We stood facing the company as if about to perform a dance: I was tempted to bow, and wondered if they would applaud. At last I was bidden kiss her, and a very sweet kiss it was. The Master and Mistress now stepped up to kiss her also, followed by Godfrey, my brothers and Peter's sisters, and then the folk nearest to us rose up to follow suit, so that she was mobbed on all sides as every person there present sought to give and receive good fortune. They scrambled for the favours on her gown, and on those of Mistress Mary and Mistress Anne. I felt hands pluck at my own coat and saw the ribbons snatched from my brothers also. Young men waved the favours triumphantly in the air and pinned them to their hats.

When the kissing and the snatching of favours were done, the guests made for their seats, but not until grains of wheat had been cast over my wife's head, for fruitfulness. As we walked to our seats, a young girl cried, 'Jacob!' and something struck me on the face before falling to the path. I saw she had thrown me a candied almond. Laughing, protesting, we held up our hands as more sweetmeats, mostly raisins, pelted onto us. Some landed in Caro's hair and bosom; one or two managed to slip down my tight collar. Caro brushed off comfits as we seated ourselves at the board with our employers and attendants.

The Master and Mistress wished us a long and happy life together, at least the Mistress did, for none could be quite sure what Sir John was trying to say. The company was in high good spirits. We were brought two great silver mazers, full of sops in wine, which we drank down to the cheers of the company. They were filled to the brim again, and we were made to interlink our arms before drinking them, which was easy enough; but then they set us to hold the cups to one another's mouths. I was afraid I might spoil her dress, but then I saw the Mistress signing to me that it mattered not a jot, so I went ahead with a will and spilt only a few drops and those from my own mouth. It seemed a good game, but one best played

in private. It came to me that I had not yet eaten a morsel to mop up so much drink.

'Let's to bed directly,' I whispered to her.

Caro laughed at me, a laugh full of love, and I stored up that laugh for when we were old, when I might say to her,
Thus do I remember you
on the day we were betrothed.

In the usual way of things I would have waited on my guests, but this was neither my house nor Caro's, and simple hospitality would not fit the Mistress's notions. Little boys dressed as cupids handed the dishes round to those who could not reach them, and were much kissed and fondled by the women; I disliked this heathen play-acting, but gathering that the idea had been My Lady's and was generally considered a most happy one, I complimented her on her delicate fancy. Sir John, seated opposite us, proposed a toast to our health and happiness, in a kingdom going on
in the good old way,
every man true to his King. My mother fluttered and said I was foolish at times but not a bad lad; I smiled at Sir John and when the toast was over, silently drank off my own, to Black Tom Fairfax. They called the sweet wine
white,
but it was rather a pale gold, frilled with bubbles at the glass's edge. I had not finished the toast before another was proposed, and I was handed more wine, this time red.

Caro caught me viewing her through the glass of red wine, and again she laughed.

Sir John was in his element - the liquid one - and those around him only too willing to keep pace. This time the company was invited to wish us fine children for, said the Master, at twenty-five I was of an age when I should have issue, and he hoped he might live to see my son a loyal servant to his own, a speech that made Caro dig her nails in my hand under the table. She need not have feared. I smirked my thanks and stood to toast those who had done us so much good (the red again), after which someone toasted the House of Roche for its unfailing affability and true
noblesse
(another white). A cupid, his wings bedraggled, ran about with bottles and casks. Then by common consent we turned back to the food, and a quiet hum arose, punctuated by the occasional clink. There was cheesecake and spicecake, along with a most extraordinary dish, exactly like collops of bacon only sweet to the taste, cut from red and white marchpane, and at

a separate table, a great heap of bridecakes. I wondered who would cleanse the foul dishes.

Caro looked hot. Having watched her eat a collop of marchpane, nibbling inwards from the edge and turning the thing about in her hand to make a circular scrap which she at last took on her tongue, I offered her another for the sake of such a pretty sight.

Joan came up and spoke quietly into Izzy's ear. Izzy's eyes widened, and as she moved away from our table he turned to me and whispered, 'It seems Mervyn is sick, and accuses Mounseer of poisoning him.'

I thought of the syllabub. 'And how would Joan know?'

'She took cream up to the house for cheesecakes, and while she was there—'

Godfrey was at my side again. Izzy waved his hand to say I should hear the rest when he could give it me. I glanced at the Mistress, who had not the look of a woman whose cook has poisoned her son, and concluded that she, like me, fancied the poison was rather come in a winecup.

'Jacob, the bridecakes,' Godfrey said.

Folk began banging on the tables, calling,
'Bridecakes, bridecakes!'
and Caro, no longer shy, dragged me up from my seat. Godfrey led us to the table with the bridecakes upon it, Caro on one side and myself on the other, bidding us kiss over it. The pile was just low enough for Caro to lift her lips above the highest one. I bent forward and kissed her to the sound of cheers and shouts; there was clapping of hands. Then there was a gasp, the clapping broke off, and I looked down to see that the hem of my coat had swept a cake off the table to the ground. The cheers resumed, but they were not so loud as they had been, and my wife's smile when we sat down again was shot through with worry.

'That is nothing, pure superstition,' I told her. 'Do but think, my love! Is it likely a cake, a piece of dough and spice that we make ourselves, should govern our lives?'

'No,' she answered; but her voice was uncertain.

'Jacob is right,' put in Izzy, who had overheard this. 'Besides, he is big enough to protect you, is he not! And you have now two brothers to boot.'

Caro kissed his lean cheek. 'You have always stood brother to me, Izzy.'

I wondered how he liked her saying that.

The music grew louder. Some of the young folks were for dancing, and a set was made up. They continued to dance for the sun shone bright but mild, and were ready next for snap-dragon and other nonsense. During the ceremony I had felt almost nothing, but now sat brimming with happiness. All I could see was my wife, with her trusting eyes, her cheeks made rosy by wine and the O of her lips as she watched the game. A raisin clung to the skin of her neck. Bending forward, I took it between my lips. The men near me cried, 'Hey-hey!'

'Jacob is mad passionate in love,' called Zeb. 'Pray keep him in order.'

'In order yourself,' I retorted. My collar was seized from behind and a shower of raisins fell down my back; whirling round I clapped hold of the trickster and found I had caught Izzy, crept out of his place. I jumped up and caught him in my arms. Caro rose to embrace him also.

A very comfortable lass,' he panted. 'She doesn't squeeze like you,' whereupon Caro did squeeze him, and he her, until they collapsed in laughter.

With the day scarce begun, we had all of us drunk too deep. Sir John was singing, in a voice like boiling jam, about
a wench who had two —
his wife here put her hand over his mouth. Something dropping down my shirt, I felt inside and found a tiny heart of scarlet marchpane entangled in my chest hair.

BOOK: As Meat Loves Salt
12.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Desirable Duchess by Beaton, M.C.
The Art of Seduction by Katherine O'Neal
GD00 - ToxiCity by Libby Fischer Hellmann
Ghost Boy by Iain Lawrence
The Queen's Army by Marissa Meyer
Good Money by J. M. Green