Page 61 of Bold Angel
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As the morning progressed, they bathed and dressed, then returned downstairs. It was quiet in the hall, servants and knights alike waiting, it seemed, to see how fared the lord and his lady.
Though her cheeks were bright with color, Caryn smiled at them warmly and Ral squeezed her hand. He led her down the stairs and across the room to the dais for the midday meal, sitting down to a trencher of meat and a tankard of ale. Speaking in quiet tones,they smiled often and touched each other with an ease that hadn’t been there before.
Ral spoke softly to Odo, and she guessed her husband explained about the bounty and that she had only meant to help them. Odo only frowned and walked away.
“Since we are well and truly wed,” Ral said, returning his attention to her, “I would grant you a wish. Is there something special that you would like to do?”
Caryn brightened. “I would see my sister, Ral. It has been too long that I have been away. Gweneth will not remember that I am gone, but I remember, and I miss her more each day. I have thought of her much these past few weeks, and I would know how she fares.”
“Your sister is welcome to live here, if that is your wish.”
Caryn shook her head. “I would wish it, but Gweneth would not. She is happy at the convent. In the years she has lived there, she has found peace. I would not take it from her.”
“Then I will take you to see her. We will leave at the end of the week.”
In the meantime, they made love. Ofttimes with abandon, other times with tender loving care. Ral was a passionate, considerate lover who seemed to take great joy in the pleasure he brought her. The hours they spent together opened a beautiful new world for Caryn. A time of sensual awakenings, of a closeness unlike anything she had known.
When the day came to leave for the convent, she found herself torn between the excitement of seeing her sister, and missing the hours of passion she had enjoyed in her husband’s bed. Thinking of those sweet moments, Caryn smiled as she dressed and made herself ready for the journey then hurriedly went downstairs.
It was an easy trip to the convent. Ral’s men made camp outside the great stone building, while he and Caryn were led to a room upstairs. The space wasnarrow and airless, the cots far too small for Ral’s big frame, yet when nightfall came, he slept with her nestled against him. He wanted her; she could see it in his eyes whenever he looked at her, but he did not take her. It was a place of God, and he seemed to sense that memories of her time there did not include him.
Gweneth was just as Caryn had left her, neatly groomed and smiling, her heavy black hair well-brushed and gleaming, hanging several inches below her waist. Caryn’s friend, Sister Beatrice, seemed to have taken her place as Gweneth’s protector, which in a way made Caryn sad. Still, she had a life of her own now and, so it seemed, did Gweneth.
“She is happy?” Caryn asked.
Sister Beatrice nodded. “She has always been so. And you know how the sisters love her. I think the light would go out of their lives were she to leave.” The older girl watched her for a sign that this might happen, but Caryn only smiled.
“She belongs here. I will not take her.”
Some of the tension left the thin girl’s face. “And what of you, Caryn? Have you found where you belong?”
She glanced at the small, slightly fragile nun who had been her closest friend. “Mayhap, I have. I am not yet certain. But in truth it feels good to be returned home.”
“I thought Ivesham lay in ruins.”
“The house is gone, but the people in the village remain. Braxston Keep now sits atop the knoll. ’Tis filled with friendly faces from the past.” She smiled. “Marta is there, and Richard. ’Tis not often that I feel alone.”
“And your husband?” Beatrice asked softly and Caryn flushed.
“I am only just now a new bride, though the vows were spoken some time ago.” Her cheeks flamed brighter. “’Tis clear from what has occurred, that I was never meant for the life of a nun.”
SisterBeatrice laughed, making her look less severe in her heavy black robes. “I do not think that was ever in question.”
The following day, Ral spoke to Gweneth, and though the black-haired girl remembered naught of who he was or what had happened that day three years past, she greeted him warmly, smiling and offering him a crust of fresh-baked bread. He accepted it with a matching warm smile, but there was no hint of the longing Caryn had feared she would see in his eyes.
On the journey from Braxston Keep, she had tried to prepare herself should her husband still harbor feelings for Gweneth. That he clearly did not was apparent from the moment of their first meeting.
“She has the beauty and grace of a swan,” he said. “’Tis a shame what has happened, but as you said, ’twould seem she is content.”
“Aye, my lord. I believe that she is.”
“How did it happen?”
“We were traveling to visit my mother’s people. Gweneth was ever a poor rider. The animal spooked and she fell off. She hit her head on a rock and for a time we did not think that she would live. When she awakened, she was as she is.”
“As I said, ’tis a pity. But that she is happy is all that matters.”
