Castle of the Heart (39 page)

“I would not have anyone think that I do not
welcome this marriage,” Valaire’s message explained. “Aloise and I
are both fond of Arianna. She will make a good mother to our
grandchildren. Let the gifts we send serve as her dowry, and know
that we wish her and Thomas a happy life together.”

“Well,” Guy said, smiling broadly as Reynaud
finished reading the letter, “I see no reason to delay the marriage
any longer, do you? Shall we say the middle of next week? Meredith,
can you have a suitable feast prepared by then?”

“We’ve been planning it for more than two
months,” Meredith responded with some spirit. “Cristin and Blanche
and my other ladies have been sewing Arianna’s clothes all that
time, too. Midweek will be perfect.”

For her wedding day Arianna wore a simple
gown of palest blue silk. Upon her loosely tumbling brown curls
rested a wreath of violets and ferns which Cristin had gathered
early that morning and woven with nimble fingers into a delicate
coronet more becoming to Arianna than the finest gold circlet would
have been.

Since no holdings of land or castles were
involved, the marriage contract was brief, but it was read by
Reynaud in a voice so full of warmth and affection for the two
people standing before him that most of the witnesses in the chapel
dabbed at their eyes. After the contract had been signed or sealed
by everyone there, Reynaud stepped aside so the village priest
could bless the marriage and say the Mass. Then it was time to
stand upon the topmost step just outside the entrance to the keep,
to show themselves to all the folk of castle and village, who were
to have their own feast on the village green.

Arianna moved through that warm, early summer
day with calm assurance. It was not until evening, when she was in
her own small room, with Cristin helping her to undress and
Meredith tossing sweet-scented herbs into a tub of warm water for
her bath while Blanche laid out her night-clothes, that she began
to feel a twinge of nervousness.

“There’s a surprise for you,” Cristin
whispered, her pretty face shining with excitement. “I hope you
will like it, Arianna. I did all of it. Thomas asked me – oh, dear,
I wasn’t supposed to tell, was I?”

“It’s all right,” Meredith assured her,
smiling. “Hand me that linen towel, Cristin. Let’s dry Arianna off
before she catches a chill. It’s time to take her to Thomas.”

They covered her suddenly trembling form with
a sheer, white linen gown embroidered around its wide neckline with
little blue flowers and green leaves. They wrapped her into a pale
green woolen robe. All three dear friends embraced and kissed her.
And then they led her out of her virginal room and took her to the
finest guest chamber in the castle, on the level just below the
lord’s chamber.

“Thomas thought you should begin your new
lives in a room neither of you has ever used before,” Meredith
explained, opening the door. “Thomas’s old room will become a guest
chamber now.”

The double windows in the wall niche faced
west, looking out over the place where the stream joined the river.
Opposite the windows was a large carved bed hung with cream wool,
the coverlet turned back a little to reveal the new linen sheets
Meredith had promised Arianna she would provide as a wedding gift.
Blanche hastened to draw the cream wool curtains across the windows
and light dozens of Meredith’s finest wax candles. Their golden
glow chased the evening shadows away, so Arianna could see what she
had begun to sense with the first breath she had taken within that
room.

The room was filled with flowers. Sprays of
pink and white roses decked the mantel and sprouted from baskets
set into the fireplace opening, where logs would blaze when winter
came. Clove-scented gillyflowers and sprigs of sweet woodruff
spilled from pitchers. Lavender lay strewn across the floor, while
cuttings of pot marigolds, rosemary, and spearmint had been stuffed
into small baskets and set on the seats in the window niche, from
where their fragrance mingled with the scent of the roses. Other
baskets placed about the room held ferns with small white daisies
and blue forget-me-nots. And in every corner, on the floor or on
tables, there were baskets and pitchers and large crocks filled
with roses.

“I’ve never seen anything so lovely,” Arianna
whispered, “nor smelled anything so heavenly. Meredith, you must
have robbed your gardens to do all this, and taken all the baskets
from the still-room, too.”

“It was Cristin’s doing,” Meredith replied.
“This is the surprise, her gift to you and Thomas. She rose at dawn
to pick the flowers.”

Arianna could not speak. Her heart was too
full for words, but she put her arms around Cristin, hugging the
girl tightly, to express her gratitude. She saw in Cristin’s eyes
that her feelings were understood.

Thomas appeared at the chamber door, wrapped
in a blue woolen robe and surrounded by men, Guy and Geoffrey, who
had come from Tynant for the occasion, Kenelm and Benet, and a few
of the men-at-arms who were Thomas’s closest friends.

The men did not enter the room at first, but
simply stood in the doorway looking at the flowers and the bed,
their joking laughter stilled into silence by that scene of
flowering beauty.

Arianna trembled and blushed, nearly overcome
by happiness and a sudden rush of nervousness, until Thomas stepped
forward to take her hand. At the loving pressure of his fingers all
her nervousness fled so she was able to smile into his blue eyes
with complete love and trust.

“When we were wed,” Guy spoke softly, “it was
winter and there were no flowers.”

“There was love,” Meredith responded, going
toward her husband, her eyes on his still-handsome face. “That was
enough.”

“We must see them bedded.” The voice of the
always-practical Blanche effectively broke the tender mood that had
momentarily held two couples entranced.

Now the men came in, treading carefully, as
if they feared to disturb the fragile blossoms that filled the
room. Blanche and Cristin removed Arianna’s woolen robe. Meredith
helped her onto the high bed, and Arianna sat on top of the
coverlet. Shivering a little in her delicate nightdress, she
watched Guy and Geoffrey strip Thomas of his robe and push him onto
the bed so they sat there together before all the witnesses.

Meredith kissed Arianna one more time, then
leaned across her to kiss Thomas. And then suddenly the room was
empty and quiet. Thomas got out of bed, quickly covering his
nakedness with his blue robe.

“I asked Blanche to leave a pitcher of wine
here,” he said, pouring a little into a silver goblet. “I noticed
you scarcely ate or drank all day.”

He sat down beside her on the bed, handing
her the goblet. Arianna sipped, tasting the herbs she and Meredith
had put into the wine the day before, recognizing each herb, seeing
in her mind’s eye the bee hives in Meredith’s garden from which
they had taken the honey.

“You are far away,” Thomas accused her with
loving tenderness.

“I was gathering honey to sweeten your wine,”
she replied.

“It needs no honey. It’s sweetened enough
from the touch of your lips.” He took the goblet from her, turning
it until he could place his mouth on it where hers had been. His
eyes never left her face as he drank.

Arianna raised one hand and lightly touched
his face. When her fingers reached his lips he nibbled at them, and
before she knew what was happening one of her fingers was inside
his mouth and he was sucking on it gently, his tongue stroking
around it.

She sat staring at him, immobilized by the
sensation of his tongue on her finger, just barely aware that he
had put down the wine goblet. Her finger was still in his mouth,
and each time he sucked on it something happened to her, some new
and exciting heat raced along her veins, turning her bones and
muscles to liquid.

“Stand up a moment,” Thomas whispered,
letting her finger go at last.

“I can’t.” She knew her knees would never
hold her. She felt much too weak to stand, yet at the same time,
stronger than the bravest warrior and completely unafraid of
him.

Thomas understood. He gathered her into his
arms and lifted her off the bed. Holding her up with one arm, he
pulled down the coverlet and the linen top sheet.

“Cristin!” He began to laugh. Arianna had
been gazing at his beloved face. Now she looked down to see the
source of his sudden mirth.

Pink and white rose petals and branches of
lavender had been scattered across the lower sheet.

“When I said I’d like a few flowers in our
room,” Thomas informed her, still laughing, “I didn’t mean in our
bed, too. Cristin always was overenthusiastic.”

“I think it’s lovely,” Arianna murmured,
resting her head on his shoulder. “They smell wonderful.”

“But this might scratch you.” Thomas pulled
out a long piece of lavender, then found another. “We should remove
all the lavender before we get into bed.”

“I think you are right.” Arianna was out of
his embrace, reaching across the bed, picking up the stiff
branches. “Cristin did this with love, Thomas.”

“I know. You needn’t worry; I’ve no plans to
scold her.”

By the time they had gathered all the
lavender, the coverlet and top sheet had been pushed down to the
foot of the bed to reveal the full extent of soft pink rose petals
which drifted all across the bed. Thomas took the lavender branches
from Arianna’s hands and scattered them onto the floor. He let his
robe drop to the floor, too, before he turned to face her.

He was so beautiful. He was all she had ever
dreamed of or wanted. His tall, firm-muscled body was perfect to
her eyes. His golden hair shone in the candlelight, his blue gaze
held her a happy prisoner.

He picked her up again, holding her close for
a moment before he laid her down upon the new linen sheets and the
fragrant petals. He stretched out beside her in the perfumed
atmosphere of their marriage bed. And then, at last, he kissed her.
His mouth caressed hers gently at first, until Arianna herself
deepened the kiss by opening her lips. His tongue plunged into her
with a sudden fiery burst of passion. She welcomed him, giving back
her own awakening desire.

His hands were on her body. Thomas had never
touched her like this before, not in their brief stolen embraces
while he still belonged to another, nor later, when he might have
done as he wanted because she was promised to him. He had carefully
kept his distance during their two months’ betrothal, and now she
knew why. It was because if he had touched her, if he had put his
hands on her breasts as he was doing now, or kissed her throat
while her head was thrown back across his arm, or stroked along her
back, or caressed her legs in just this way, she would have done
what she was doing now. She would have let her legs fall open and
moaned while he kissed her knees and thighs. She would have begun
to touch him, too, with her hands running through the crisp hair on
his wide chest and across his shoulders and then down his back when
he leaned over her to kiss her hungry mouth once more.

If he had touched her before this night they
would have made love at once. They would not have been able to stop
themselves, and then this precious, sacred night could not have
happened. But Thomas had known, and had kept himself from her until
the time was right for them to come together.

He kissed every inch of her delicately
trembling body. He told her over and over again how deeply he loved
her. And she responded with all the tenderness and passion she had
hidden for so many years.

“I love you,” he whispered, nibbling at her
fingers again, then slowly working his way across her palm to her
wrist and up her arm to her shoulder. She was close to fainting
from the exquisite tension he had generated when he stopped – to
begin again, on her other arm this time.

“You are my very heart.” She could just
barely hear his words, for his face was buried between her breasts,
and his hands – ah, his hands! And his mouth! She did cry out then,
and reached for him, but he moved away.

“My darling.” His mouth was on her cheek, his
voice a broken, husky whisper in her ear. “Please stop what you’re
doing. Take your hands away. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you
continue I’ll lose all control. Arianna, you must stop.”

She realized then that all the time he had
been touching her, she had been caressing him in return, though she
had not been fully aware of what she was doing, and she knew with a
deep, feminine instinct that he was poised on the very edge of a
wild, loving madness. She knew it because she felt close to madness
herself. But she had to reassure him, had to let him know he could
do anything and she would accept him with all the love she felt for
him.

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” she whispered,
pulling him nearer. “Thomas.” His name on her tongue was a sigh of
deep longing, a last faint echo of the time when he had not been
hers to love.

He heard that echo and knew it in his own
heart. He pulled her closer still, pressing himself against her.
She yielded, opening to him with a happiness that filled her soul
and heart.

Arianna gave a soft, choked gasp. Thomas
breathed a deep, long sigh, and they were one. As her instant of
slight distress passed, Arianna looked into her husband’s eyes and
knew they would never be separate again. She knew now what
consummation meant. It was this fulfillment, this joyful union with
her beloved Thomas, and it was worth everything they’d both had to
endure in order to reach this moment. And she knew something more:
it would never end. Indeed, it would grow deeper and richer with
every day, with every year that passed. The singing fire in her
veins, the closeness of his warm body, and the spiraling delight
she now experienced were all because of Thomas. She cried out his
name in a breathy whisper and gave herself up to love.