“Have you no control over your offspring that you would allow him to embarrass my daughter?” he demanded of the baron. “And on their wedding day too.”
“What can I do?” the baron said helplessly, and he turned to Alix. “Forgive him, my daughter. He is young, and he is a fool to boot. It will do no good to lock him up, for his resentment towards you would be even worse. Give me a grandchild, and I will protect you as long as I live.”
“I should never have allowed my daughter to marry your son,” Alexander Givet said furiously. “God forgive me! God forgive me!”
“It’s all right, Papa,” Alix tried to reassure him. “Hayle is behaving like a child because he did not get his own way. But I am his wife, and I shall be the mother of his heir. Then all will be well. I don’t want you to worry.” Privately, however, Alix was not pleased with her new husband’s behavior. He did behave like a child. A ten-year-old. What was the matter with him, anyway? He had agreed he would not shame her publicly, but then she recalled he hadn’t agreed. She had asked it of him, but he had never agreed. Was she to be subjected to this sort of behavior forever because he couldn’t have his own way? She sighed softly, letting her eyes go to where he danced with his mistress. His whole face was different than the one he usually presented. It was soft and kind. Alix knew, looking at her husband, that he would never present such a face to her.
“Alix is wiser than you, Alexander,” the queen murmured. “Be still,
mon ami
.”
When the evening came, the villagers departed and Hayle with them. Sir Udolf took Alix aside, sitting with her by the blazing hearth. “Do you remember that Hayle spoke of certain conditions for agreeing to your marriage, Alix?”
She nodded. “I do, but you have never told them to me.”
“I must tell you now.” He looked unhappy. “My son feels coupling with you is a betrayal of his mistress. Therefore, while he knows he must lay with you if he is to have a legitimate heir, he does not wish to see you while he does his duty by you and by the family. You will be prepared for bed and then left in a totally darkened chamber. And whenever he comes to your bed, the room must be dark. The shutters will be closed and the draperies drawn tightly. I am sorry, but those are his conditions, and I was forced to agree with them else he would not have made this marriage.”
Alix shook her head. “His mistress is with child,” she said. “Did you know that, my lord? He told me as we returned from the church.”
“Forgive me, my child!” the baron begged her. “In time I am certain he will relent and you will warm his heart.”
“He will never relent,” Alix said despairingly, “but I will do my duty, my lord. You need have no fear of that.” No. For her father’s sake she would let Hayle Watteson have her virginity, and she would bear him children. And with Sir Udolf’s aid, she would raise her sons to be true gentlemen like her father, like the poor king. She would teach them kindness, respect, and duty. Once she had her children about her, she would be safe even after her father and Sir Udolf were gone.
“Do not go to his bed!” her father said desperately. “I should rather die in the cold than have you suffer that man a moment. Call the priest and have this union annulled.” And then Alexander Givet began to gasp with his distress. He coughed so hard that his whole body was convulsed, and he collapsed back in his chair.
“Papa!” Alix was immediately by her parent’s side. The physician held a napkin to his mouth, and she saw the flecks of blood staining the linen. “It’s all right, Papa. I am content with this marriage. Do not distress yourself any more. I need you and Sir Udolf here with me. You must not fret yourself.” She put the wine cup to his lips now that his coughing had subsided.
Alexander Givet sipped slowly. He was pale, and he felt so weak that he could hardly move himself even to sit up. “I can’t let you do this,
mignon
,” he murmured softly.
“It is done,” Alix told her parent. She signaled to a young serving man, who came immediately to her side. “Take my father to his bedspace, and see he is made comfortable for the night. Then sit with him until he sleeps.”
“Yes, mistress,” the young servant said. He had a pleasant face, and did not seem hostile to her as so many of the servants did.
“What is your name?” Alix asked him.
“Wat, mistress” came the reply.
“I will speak to the steward, Wat, for I should like you to look after my father, to be his body servant,” Alix said.
“Thank you, mistress,” Wat answered her. Then he helped Alexander Givet from his chair. “Lean on me, sir. I am strong.”
“When you are settled, Papa, I will come and bid you good night,” Alix told her father. Then she turned to Sir Udolf. “He cannot continue to sleep in the hall,” she said. “He must have his own chamber. Since your son must now share my bed, I shall take his room for my father. If Hayle needs another place, let him make it somewhere else.”
“Should you not go to your chamber now to await your husband?” Sir Udolf ventured quietly.
“I will go nowhere until I see my father properly settled for this night. Besides, your son is with his mistress. He is in no hurry to bed me.”
The baron looked unhappy, but he said nothing, for he knew that Alix was right. She sat at his left hand with a stony face looking out over the hall, which was now empty. The queen quietly departed, taking her son with her. The king’s body servant had come for him during the dancing and taken his master away. Finally Wat came to tell Alix that her father was settled within his bedspace next to the large hearth.
Alix went to him and kissed her parent’s brow. “Tomorrow I will prepare a chamber for you, Papa. You will no longer have to sleep in the hall.”
“There is still time,” he said softly to her.
Alix shook her head. “Remember what Mama always said? You must make the best of a bad situation no matter how you may feel. While I may scorn Hayle Watteson in my heart and mind, I will always treat him respectfully in public. From his behavior today, I suspect I will see him but infrequently.”
Her father reached out, and in his hand there was a small pouch. “If you are determined to go through with this travesty,
mignon
, then you will need extra strength of both body and mind for your ordeal. Put a pinch from the contents of this bag into a cup of wine tonight and drink it. Then take a pinch of it in wine or cider each morning. I will give you more when you need it.” He put the pouch in her hand, grasping her wrist and saying, “Promise me you will take it, Alix.
Promise me
!”
“If you believe it will help me, Papa, then yes, I will take it tonight, and each morning as you have prescribed.” She bent and kissed his cheek. “
Bon soir
, Papa.”
“
Bon soir, mignon
,” Alexander Givet replied. “God keep you safe this night.”
Alix left him, and without even a word to Sir Udolf, departed the hall, going upstairs to the chamber she was to share with her husband. Bab was waiting for her. “Fetch me a small goblet of wine,” Alix told the serving woman.
Bab did as she was bid, setting the goblet on the table next to the bed. Then she helped Alix disrobe. “He’ll want you naked,” Bab informed Alix, who now stood in her chemise washing her face and hands.
“Then I will be naked,” Alix responded. She felt numb, and she was cold. Perhaps the wine would help to warm her. “Be careful with my gown,” she warned Bab. “It is my one good one.” And while the servant folded the violet silk with meticulous care, Alix took a pinch from the contents of the little pouch, put it in her wine, and drank it down. She must remember to ask her father what it was. She didn’t want Bab to see the pouch, and so she tucked it discreetly beneath the bed’s mattress until she was alone and could find another hiding spot. “Has my husband returned yet?” she asked Bab, knowing the serving woman would be aware of Hayle’s whereabouts.
“Not yet,” Bab replied sourly. “Get into bed and sleep. He’ll awaken you when he comes. I hope for your sake there is blood on the sheet come morning. He won’t like it if you aren’t a virgin.”
Alix climbed into the bed. “Good night, Bab” was all she answered. Then she watched as the servant snuffed all the candles but the one she carried, and departed the chamber. The room was cold, Alix noted, but then, of course, since Hayle would want total darkness there was no fire to keep her warm. The bed smelled fresh with lavender. The pillows were plump behind her. She drew up the coverlet and closed her eyes, but she could not sleep. As she lay there alone and in the dark Alix considered what was to come. She knew what to expect. Her husband would stuff his manhood into her female sheath and expel his seed. With good luck he would get her with child quickly, and she would be quickly quit of him. He would futter her to get the son to please his father. There was nothing more to it. She wished he would come and get it over with, for she was tired and wanted to sleep. Would he remain with her? Would he do it more than once? At court she had overheard two women in the queen’s apartment speaking of one of their husbands. He had fucked her, the first told the second, three times in a night, and the two women had giggled like girls. How many times did it take a man to get a woman with child? Alix wondered. That was not a part of her knowledge.
Finally the door to the chamber opened, and she saw him in the light from the hallway torch, hesitating a moment before coming in. “Do not speak,” he told her as he shut the door behind him.
Alix remained silent, as bidden. The bed sagged as he sat upon its edge. She heard his boots hit the floor as he removed them.
He pulled back the coverlet, saying as he did so, “Spread your legs open wide, whore,” and when she had, he climbed atop her. “Now put your arms above your head,” he further instructed her. “You will make no move to impede my actions.” Reaching out, he squeezed one of her breasts, pinching the nipple hard. “At least your skin is soft,” he noted as he ran his hands over her body, “and you smell of flowers.”
Alix felt him adjusting his position. She felt his bare buttocks against her thighs as he leaned forward, his fingers and hand seeking. And then she felt
it
as he found the opening to her woman’s sheath. As he leaned forward, she realized he was wearing his tunic robe and had just hiked it up so his male parts would be free. Alix felt she should be doing something, but she didn’t know what. He thrust into her, and it hurt. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as he kept pushing himself into her. But then he thrust hard, and Alix could not prevent the scream that tore from her throat as a sharp pain engulfed her. She began to weep.
“You didn’t lie to me, whore. You were a virgin,” he said as he began to piston her in earnest, grunting with each stroke of his cock until she felt him stiffen above her and groan with the sound of pleasure attained. Then, climbing off of her, he said, “I’ll be back in the early morning to fuck you again. And I’ll keep fucking you each day until you ripen with my child. Then we can be quit of each other.” He sat on the edge of the bed once more, pulling on his boots, and then left her.
Alix began to cry in earnest. He had not kissed her, or been kind at all. He had behaved like a stallion brought to stud. Surely this was not the way all men and women behaved with one another? She remembered her mother’s face once when she had come from the bedchamber that she shared with her father. It had been soft and dreamy. Alix remembered saying to her mother that she looked particularly beautiful at that moment and Blanche responding that when a woman was well loved she glowed.
“You will understand one day,
ma petite
,” her mother had told her, smiling.
And had the queen not said that a woman could feel passion even if she did not love a man? But all Alix had felt was pain and degradation. She suspected it was all she would ever know from Hayle Watteson. Alix pulled the coverlet back over her cold body. He was a cruel and stupid creature. She was going to pray to the Blessed Virgin that he got her with child quickly, for the thought of having to bear his cruel attentions night after night was too terrible to even contemplate. Alix instinctively knew that her husband would never treat her any other way than he had treated her tonight. Hayle hated her for being what his beloved Maida couldn’t be. And he would continue to punish her for it.
He came again just before the dawn, when Alix could see just the faintest sliver of light beginning to creep along the edges of the shutters, but the room was still in darkness. He woke her roughly, shaking her hard. “Take the position you were taught earlier,” he ordered her. “Legs spread, arms about your head. Do not speak, and this time make no noise at all, whore. I know you could not prevent your earlier scream, and I forgive you for it. But I will have no sound from you.” He penetrated her once again without further ado, riding her until the inevitable conclusion. Then he left her, telling her, “I will be back tomorrow night.”
When she was certain he was gone, Alix crept from her bed and went to the small hearth. There in a little round container was a live coal. She put it into the midst of the wood kindling and blew upon it until a small flame leaped up to catch at the wood. Soon the fire was blazing merrily and the chill was leaving the chamber. Alix placed the earthenware pitcher of water into the edge of the hearth to warm. Then she climbed back into her bed to sleep for a short while more.
Bab awoke her at dawn, opening the shutters to allow the light of day into the room. Alix took the now-hot water from the fireplace and bathed herself thoroughly.
“Well, he did his duty by you, I see,” Bab said, yanking the sheet from the bed. “The old lord will be pleased, mistress.”
“Yes,” Alix said. “He will be pleased, I’m certain.” She pulled on a clean camise, and then her nut-brown jersey gown. After pulling on a pair of woolen socks, she put her feet into her sollerets. Then, sitting on the edge of the bed, she took up her hairbrush and brushed her hair out, plaiting it into a single thick braid and tying off the end of it with a bit of white ribbon.