To The Castle. Joan Wolf
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following morning. Today he, his grandfather and their retainers would process into Lincoln to spend the night at the sheriff’s quarters in the castle. They would be followed an hour later by Nell and her wedding party, who would spend the night in the bishop’s lodging. On the morrow the bishop would perform the ceremony that would wed him to Nell de Bonvile.
She’s so pretty, Roger thought as he stretched his arms comfortably above his head. Her eyes were beautiful—so dark and yet so blue. And she was shy.
I can handle shyness, he thought. I’ll get Lady Mabel to take her under her wing and show her what her duties will be as my wife. Lady Mabel was married to Simon Everard, the earl’s steward, and she was in charge of the few ladies who currently resided at Wilton castle.
Roger was placed next to Nell at the high table for breakfast. He smiled down into her pale face. “Just think, tomorrow at this time we will be getting married.”
Nell went even paler. “Yes,” she said faintly.
His smile faded. “Are you ill? You don’t look well.”
“I’m fine. I didn’t sleep well, that is all.”
Roger had slept soundly; he usually did, no matter where his bed might be. “We’re leaving right after breakfast,” he said now. “I won’t see you again until we meet at the church.”
Nell nodded. She had taken scarcely a bite of the fresh white bread that was in front of her. “Are you nervous?” Roger asked.
She produced a faint smile. “Yes. I’m not used to being the center of attention.”
He gave her a reassuring smile in return. “Everything will be all right. You’ll see.”
“I’m sure it will be,” she said in a low voice.
She was as pretty this morning as he’d remembered, he thought. Her skin was flawless in the sunlight coming in through the high windows of the hall. She’s frightened, he thought. I’ll have to be very careful with her.
The bridegroom’s party left Bardney directly after breakfast. Nell looked out the window as the wedding party lined up in the outer bailey. The knights leading the party wore armor, but Roger and his grandfather were dressed in fine tunics, flowing mantles and low, soft boots. Their heads were bare and Roger carried a bag of coins to fling to any bystanders they might pass along the way.
The sun reflected off Roger’s hair, making it shine like one of the golden coins he carried.
“He’s so handsome.” Marie, one of the ladies, came up behind her. “You’re so lucky, Nell.”
She sounded wistful. Nell realized that Marie wished she was the one marrying Roger tomorrow. Well, Nell wished that, too. “Yes,” she replied quietly. “He is very handsome.”
Lady Alice came into the room. “Come along, Nell, and get dressed. We have to make a show for the common folk. They will be lining the road to see you.”
“Yes, Mama,” Nell said dully, and turned to follow her mother out of the room.
Nell’s wedding day dawned overcast and damp.
“At least it isn’t raining,” Lady Alice said brightly as she and Lord Raoul walked beside Nell to the cathedral. They were all dressed in their best finery, with Nell wearing a deep blue overtunic over a red undertunic. It was Sybilla’s dress, redone to fit Nell. Lord Raoul and Lady Alice also looked richly colored and sumptuous. They all wore mantles suspended around their shoulders by gold chains, and Nell’s braids were entwined with gold thread and fastened with golden balls. She was bareheaded while Lady Alice wore a small veil anchored by a thin gold circle.
Lord Raoul looked down upon his daughter with approval. “You look very nice, Nell,” he said. “Roger will think himself a lucky man to be getting such a pretty bride along with an earldom.”
“Thank you, Father,” Nell said in a voice that was scarcely audible.
“You need some color in your cheeks, though,” he said. “Here.” Lady Alice stepped in front of Nell so she had to stop, then she pinched her daughter’s cheeks. “There,” she said. “That’s better.”
The Bail of the castle was filled with people waiting to catch a glimpse of the bride. Thank goodness the bishop’s residence is right next to the cathedral, Nell thought. She didn’t feel prepared to run the gamut of a large, noisy crowd.
“Ah, isn’t she lovely,” a woman’s voice called out. “Good luck to you, dearie.”
The crowd murmured agreement.
Then they were walking up the steps of the cathedral and into the large stone building. Martin Demas, Bardney’s steward, was standing in the vestibule waiting for them. Lord Raoul cracked the door into the church and peered in.
“It’s full,” he reported proudly. “Looks like all of our and Wilton’s vassals in the area came.”
“That they did, my lord,” Martin said.
Nell shivered a little and crossed her arms over her blue tunic.
This can’t be happening to me. I can’t be standing here, waiting to get married. Oh, God, why did Sybilla have to die?
Nell wet her lips with her tongue. “Where is Roger?” she asked.
Her father looked through the door again. “He just came out to stand beside the altar.”
Lady Alice said, “I should take my place.”
The steward came to her. “I will escort you down the aisle, my lady.”
“Thank you,” Lady Alice said.
Nell stood, her arms crossed over her chest, as her mother left the vestibule to walk down the church aisle. Lord Raoul watched through the partially open door. When Lady Alice was finally seated, the cathedral choir began to sing an unaccompanied Gregorian chant.
“That’s our signal,” the earl said. He offered Nell his arm. She put her small hand on it and together they entered the church and began to proceed down the aisle.
Nell felt like a helpless animal being led to the slaughter. She could feel the people looking at her from either side, but she stared ahead at the bishop, who was waiting for her at the top of the aisle. He was magnificently dressed in gold vestments, with his white miter hat making him look very tall. He was flanked by six altar servers who were dressed in crisp white cassocks.
What if I told the bishop that I was being coerced into this marriage? What would he do?
Nell and her father stopped before the bishop and Roger came to join them.
The bishop raised his hands and the singing stopped. He spoke clearly, so he could be heard throughout the church. “We are gathered here today to join these two young people in a yoke of concord and an indissoluble chain of peace. This union is blessed by God and is as holy and sacred as is Christ’s love for his bride, the church. It is not to be taken lightly or unadvisedly.” He looked from Roger to Nell. “Do you understand this?” he asked, his face stern.
“We do,” Roger said and, after a brief moment, Nell echoed his words.
The bishop next looked at Lord Raoul. “Who is it who gives this woman in marriage to this man?”
“I do,” Lord Raoul said firmly.
“Do you swear that there is no known reason why this couple may not be joined in holy matrimony?”
I could speak up now, Nell thought wildly. I could tell the bishop I am not willing….
She almost opened her mouth, but then her father said, “I swear that there is no reason why this couple may not be joined in holy matrimony.”
The words of denial just wouldn’t come.
The bishop looked to Roger. “You may take the bride’s hand.”