Chapter XX
Nottingham, August 25th, 1194
Two days later – a Thursday – Guy and Violet left the castle on their horses, heading for Chetwood. A messenger had informed Sir William about their visit and the reason of it.
"Good morning!" William welcomed them smiling, meeting them for a hug. Being now his son-in-law, Guy too was entitled to this familiar treatment. The new baron returned the hug rather awkwardly, as he had been for too long unaccustomed to such warmness.
They sat down in the hall to exchange a few words, and Rebelle soon joined them. She was disappointed that Drastan hadn't come along. Guy explained that his deputy couldn't come because he had to take care of several urgent tasks that Guy hadn't been able to manage in the view of his absence. However, Drastan planned to come and visit her on Saturday and to stay until Sunday evening, with Sir William's permission. Rebelle was very pleased and concealed carefully her excitation at the prospect of spending one whole night with Drastan, of course secretly, as since Violet's and Guy's wedding, they hadn't had any chance. Therefore, she was keen to repeat the experience, at least as much as her fiancé. Within three weeks, their nuptials would take place and, at last, they would be together in full lawfulness, no longer needing any subterfuge.
After half an hour spent exchanging news about how things were going in their separate abodes, Violet rose in order to go to her herb garden and look for the plants she wanted to take to Nottingham. Rebelle offered her help and followed her out of the great hall.
Now alone with Guy, William turned to him.
"Well, son, are you a happy husband?" he asked.
For a moment, Guy was dumbstruck in hearing someone calling him son, but the elderly knight, as his father-in-law, had the right to do so.
"Yes, I am", he answered, sincerely. It was true that he and Violet were not husband and wife yet in the complete meaning of it, but seeing her every day, having her by his side, talking to her and exchanging opinions with her made him feel good. It made him feel serene.
"So, Violet is a good wife", William concluded, content.
"The best I could wish", Guy asserted. This was maybe a little extreme, as he still lacked a piece of conjugal life to judge the whole set, but somewhere deep in his soul he knew that, when they would get so far, it would be perfect. As for the rest, he was thoroughly satisfied.
"I'm glad to hear you saying this", William smiled.
Meanwhile, Violet and Rebelle headed for the herbal garden.
"How are things going with Guy?" the younger cousin asked.
"If you're asking if the marriage has been consummated, then not yet", Violet answered softly.
Feeling sorry, Rebelle nodded.
"But haven't you kissed ever again?" she insisted. Violet shook her head.
"No… not in that way, at least", she confessed, "Goodnight-kisses, on the cheek, nothing more."
"But don't you want more kisses of the kind you had the first time?"
Violet didn't answer immediately, embarrassed, but she couldn't lie to Rebelle, she never had and wouldn't start now. She knew Rebelle wasn't asking just to meddle, but out of true interest and because she wanted for her cousin the same happiness she had found with Drastan.
"Well, yes", she admitted at length in an undertone.
"And why don't you tell him, then?"
"I… wouldn't know how to make him such a request!" Violet cried, her cheeks aflame.
Rebelle chuckled.
"If you don't manage to tell him in words, tell him in facts", she suggested, "Next time he kisses you on the cheek, turn your head and kiss him fully on his mouth."
Picturing the scene in her mind, Violet felt a flutter in her belly – and even lower. How strange.
"I… will think about it", she said.
On the way out, Violet had asked Mary to send her two people to help her with the herbs she needed, placing them in large baskets and loading them on a cart to be carried our to Nottingham, where the waiting gardeners would plant them in the flowerbeds she had destined to this purpose.
Now, Violet chose the medicinal herbs she knew she could transplant without risking them withering in the process. She made sure that each plant had intact roots into a damp piece of turf and, after placing them into the baskets, she had the servants helping her covering them with wet cloths of jute. Finally, she asked John, the cart driver, to make haste, in order to leave the plants out of the ground for as little time as possible. Given the nature of the load, John had expected her request and had purposely chosen the two sturdiest and fastest horses, so he could assure that her call would be granted.
William invited them to stay for the midday meal, but the two guests declined, because if they stopped, they would be too late for Thurgarton. In this view, they had brought a picnic lunch with them.
"We'll do that another time", his daughter assured him, giving him a goodbye kiss on his bearded cheek. "And we'll stop for the whole day, alright?"
"Very well then", the elderly knight nodded, a little disappointed but aware that the reason of their refusal was valid.
Thus, Guy and Violet mounted their respective horses and headed for the monastery.
Along the way, as they rode alternating a light trot with a walk, Violet kept mulling over Rebelle's words. She wanted to be kissed again by Guy in that thrilling way she had experienced on their first wedding night, but she didn't dare to ask him openly. However, even the idea to be her the one beginning the kiss, as her cousin had suggested, made her blush in embarrassment.
"You're silent", Guy observed after a while. "'Tis something wrong?"
"No, nothing", Violet denied, and at her husband's sceptic glance, she lied. "Only cogitations about how arranging my new workroom in Nottingham."
"You know you are allowed to use every resource in the castle", her husband reminded her. "Or ask someone to fetch whatever you may need."
"Aye, and I thank you. Actually, I have a mind for a few improvements over my workroom at Chetwood, beginning from the lighting. Sometimes I need a lot of light."
"Anything you need", Guy confirmed.
As the silence was now broken, they resumed chatting as they had done during the journey from Nottingham to Chetwood, until Violet, pointing to the sun glimpsing through the canopy of the foliage, suggested it was time to eat. Guy agreed – actually, his stomach was beginning to feel hunger pangs – so they halted their horses and dismounted. They tied them to a low branch, then Guy spread a blanket at a short distance from the path, as Violet pulled their food out of the saddlebags: bread, cheese, smoked beef, dried fruits and a canteen of red wine.
They shared the food and ate as they kept on chatting.
"Do you know the Prior of Thurgarton, Matthew?" Violet asked her husband.
"No, I never had to deal with him", he answered.
"He went to the Holy Land with my father and became a monk after their return", she told him. "He said he'd seen too much blood and too much death, and therefore he decided to retire to a contemplative life, but the organisational skills he gained in the army took him to the election to prior when the former died."
"So you're good acquainted with him?" at his wife's affirmative nod, Guy concluded. "That's why you preferred to ask a monk from his monastery for the castle's chapel, instead asking Bishop Alderic."
"Precisely", she confirmed. "Prior Matthew is well aware that I don't like the all sin and reproach type of priest and therefore he'll choose a suitable monk."
From the frown she was holding as she said this, Guy guessed that in the past Violet had to deal with some too rigid cleric and had no wish to repeat the experience. As for him, he was rather indifferent to ecclesiastics, unless they wanted to meddle with his businesses, and in this case, he didn't tolerate them at all. His faith was formal, not heartfelt, and for years, he went to Mass only when circumstances made it necessary, such as the great religious holydays and his own wedding, one month ago.
He took the canteen, which had still a bit wine left. Seeing that Violet's beaker was empty, he shared whatever remained of the drink with his wife. She thanked him with a smile before drinking, and Guy found himself wishing fervently to be that simple earthenware cup to enjoy the touch of her lips…
He shook off this absurd fantasy and diverted his eyes, but Violet had noticed his glance and now she felt suddenly hot. Slightly inebriated by the wine and his ardent stare, she placed down her empty beaker.
"Guy…" she whispered.
He looked at her again and, seeing her flushed cheeks and her shining eyes, he felt a hot shudder shooting through him.
Attracted to those cerulean irises where a flame was burning, the meaning of it still unfamiliar to her, however terribly exciting, Violet reached for her husband and placed one hand on his chest.
"Guy…" she repeated in an even lower voice. Her slightly husky tone aroused a flutter in Guy's stomach. Encouraged by his wife's attitude, he bent over to her. Violet's gaze dropped to his lips. Noting this, Guy's heart jumped to his mouth. She wanted him to kiss her!, he realised, dazed. Since the wedding night, he had been waiting for a spontaneous signal, not induced by possible seduction attempts from his part. As the days had passed by, he had felt more and more dejected, but now here she was, inviting him clearly to kiss her.
Or was it just the result of his wish for it?
In doubt, Guy decided to move extremely cautiously. Gently, he grasped Violet's shoulders and pulled her to him, slowly, giving her all the time and way to withdraw, should she change her mind.
Violet didn't pull away and, when she was almost leaning into him, she even raised the hand she had placed on his chest to brush his cheek, then his ear, making him shiver.
"Violet…" he murmured with deep passion. From Violet's lack of reaction, he realised she wasn't aware of how much he desired her, how much he craved laying her on the blanket, haul up her skirts and plunge inside of her until she would scream in pleasure… Her innocence, combined with the knowledge of how much pain she had endured in the past, in her flesh and in her soul, because of an indifferent, if not brutal husband, helped him to cool off his boiling blood.
He raised his hand in turn and brushed her lips with this thumb. Violet lifted her face to his. Their mouths were now very close, enough to feel each other's breath. Guy waited another instant, to make sure once more that this was what she really wanted, then he lowered his head and placed his lips on hers.
The kiss started in a chaste way. This time, Violet didn't wait for him urging her and, after a few moments, she parted her lips, wanting to feel his tongue caressing hers as he had done the first wedding night.
Guy's breath caught in his throat. He answered her invitation, deepening the kiss with all the tenderness he could muster, afraid he could frighten her. Their tongues interlaced, stroking each other, advancing and retreating, chasing one another to connect again. He dared tightening his hold on her, and Violet raised her other arm, lacing both behind his nape.
The sitting position was quite uncomfortable, as both were bowing forward, their legs bent between them and keeping them apart. Guy enclosed Violet in his arms, rose on his knees and then set her down on her back, stretching out beside her. He took care in moving slowly the whole time, so that she would realise that, if she wanted, she could withdraw and stop what they were doing.
Once more, Violet didn't pull back.
Encouraged, Guy briefly took his lips off hers, only to angle his head to the other side and get to kiss her better. Thrilled, he felt her holding him tighter and so he dared placing one hand on the side of her breast. Violet started slightly, then she relaxed again. At this point, Guy moved his hand to brush the soft mound he was touching in a feather-light caress. Under the thin silk of her gown, he came across the swelling of her hardened nipple and felt a momentary giddiness at this confirmation of Violet's arousal. She wanted him, but was she aware of it? He didn't think so. He had to guide her along the paths of desire with patience, step by step, until she would realise that she desired him as much as he desired her.
Violet felt as if she had a fever, hot and breathless. She wanted more, but she had no idea what it was precisely. Between her thighs, she was feeling a heat she had never felt before, as a tingling was running inside of her. Rebelle had told her this were symptoms of desire and had exhorted her to surrender to it. The unpleasant memory of the feeling of Charles' flesh inside hers surfaced on her mind, disturbing this thrilling moment, and she drove it away with all her willpower. She focussed again on the present feelings, on Guy's hand pressed against her breast, on his fingers brushing its tip, arousing a bizarre reaction inside of her that connected this apex to her feminine depths, making them quiver harder. She sighed in pleasure.
Guy heard her. Again encouraged, he pulled away from her mouth and placed small kisses on her jaw, under her ear, on the side of her neck, on her throat. He grew bolder as he heard more lovingly sighs and he dropped to her chest, down to the hem of the neckline, where the soft fullness of her breasts swelled up.
Violet felt increasingly hotter. Her heart was hammering inside her chest, her breath was coming faster. Her core was literally aflame. She wanted… heavens, she wanted him touching her right there, where she was burning! Her breath caught in her throat.
She saw Guy lowering his head even more and felt his lips surrounding one hard bud. So far, Violet had had stiff nipples only when she was cold and she didn't understand how they could be this way now. Then she moaned, as Guy brushed his teeth over her taut nipple and, if earlier the feeling of his fingers had been pleasant, now it was even overwhelming.
The sound of her lament nearly sent Guy into a swoon. His hardness was almost unbearable, coerced into breeches that had become too tight. He desperately wanted to free himself, denude her and take her. Once more, he called himself to order, steeling himself, but as Violet ran her fingers through his hair holding him even tighter against her breasts, his self-control almost shattered.
He froze and, with a tremendous effort, he withdrew and sat up.
"I… I must stop now", he croaked. "Or it'll be too late."
Violet stared at him, her gaze hazy. She moved in turn into a sitting position and opened her mouth to say she didn't want him to stop, then she saw his almost wild gaze and suddenly she felt frightened. Her willpower was not able to keep in check her hateful memories and they flooded her mind, brutally quenching her desire.
Seeing terror beginning to surface in her eyes, Guy quickly gave her a soothing caress, brushing her cheek.
"You don't need to be afraid of anything", he said softly. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do, ever."
Reassured, even if still disquieted, Violet nodded.
"I know", she said, she too softly.
There was a moment of awkward silence, as none of them knew what to say.
"What…" she began, confused, without really knowing what she wanted to ask. Guy watched her, waiting patiently for her to express herself. "What were we doing?" she asked at length.
As the crucial moment had gone, Guy had calmed down and now he felt touched by her innocent question.
"We were making love", he answered in a simple way. Violet blinked, clearly perplexed. "But isn't that the… conjugal act?"
"Sure, but this too is lovemaking", he nodded. "'Tis part of what precedes the… let's say… proper consummation."
"Oh."
It was obvious that Violet had never experienced anything like this, Guy realised. He felt once more a burning rage towards Roganton.
"I was under the impression you were finding it agreeable", he added, in the most delicate way he could think of.
She blushed crimson.
"Aye, it was agreeable", she confirmed. "Very", she added, with greater confidence. For goodness sake, Guy was her husband, she had every right to tell him what she liked and what she disliked!
"You have no idea how much this makes me happy", the black-clad knight murmured. "I hope we'll do it again soon."
Violet couldn't help but smile at that appealing prospect, but then her face darkened.
"But isn't it too… difficult, for you?" she enquired. "I mean… not going through?"
"Of course 'tis difficult", Guy confirmed honestly. "But this time I've been caught by surprise, whereas next time I'll be prepared, and therefore it'll be less difficult."
He wasn't absolutely certain of this, but he couldn't give up the chance to stir Violet's desire and push it a little farther, each time more, until she would crave for fulfilment as much as he did.
For now, however, it was better if he walked definitively away from temptation.
"'Tis getting late", he observed, casting a glance to the position of the sun peeping through the branches. "We should go."
He stood up and helped his wife doing as much. They stowed away the remaining of the food and the blanket, then they got back on their horses and resumed the path to Thurgarton.
When they reached the monastery one hour later, they knocked at the main door, using the simple iron knocker attached at its centre. Soon enough, a peephole opened, through which they saw two dark eyes with a kind expression.
"Who's there?" the owner of those eyes enquired.
"Sir… Lord Guy and Lady Violet of Nottingham", the sheriff declared, still not used to their new title. Once, he pondered in a flash, he would have literally killed just to have Gisborne back, while now he was Robin of Locksley's equal, becoming it without any bloodshed, and in the process he had even gained an amazing woman like Violet as his wife.
"Welcome", the gatekeeper friar said. "We were expecting you."
Violet had in fact sent to the monastery – like to Chetwood – a messenger to herald their visit to the prior. A few moments later, the gate opened and a monk with a dark grey habit appeared, his face ruddy and jovial.
"Come in, come in", he invited them with a wide gesture of his arm. Guy, who had dismounted to knock at the door, led Darkshadow by the reins, while Violet spurred Snowflake softly on with her heels. Once inside the cloister, she dismounted in turn.
The gatekeeper asked them to wait a moment and moved away, striding surprisingly fast for his size. Soon he was back with two brother friars.
"Brother Ruthan will take care of your horses", he said, pointing to the younger, a novice judging from the lighter colour of his cassock, sporting also a white border. "Brother Peter will take you to the prior."
"Thank you", Violet said, handing her mount's reins to the novice. Guy did as much and then they followed Brother Peter to the inner part of the monastery. Shortly after, they were showed in to the Father Superior, who rose to meet his important guests.
"My dear Violet!" he cried, moving towards her beaming, "But perhaps I should call you Lady Nottingham…"
"For pity's sake!" Violet cried in turn, as she had known him since she was a kid. "Unless you want me calling you Reverend Prior…"
The elderly man of the cloth laughed heartily and hugged her, showing that their relationship was very informal. Then, the turned to Guy with a quizzical look.
"My husband", Violet quickly introduced him. "Lord Guy, Baron of Nottingham. Guy, this is the Reverend Prior Matthew."
Guy performed a respectful bow, bending his back in the homage due to an ecclesiastic of rank.
"I'm honoured to meet you, Reverend Prior", he said.
"My pleasure, Lord Nottingham", Matthew returned, watching him closely. He had never had a chance to meet Gisborne as Vaisey's minion, but he was aware of his deeds in the latter's service, as well as of the circumstances that had led him, quite surprisingly, to become first the sheriff of the County, and then even to receive the title of Baron. He had been surprised that Violet would choose such a husband, but he didn't judge her decision, both because he wasn't informed of the reasons that had driven her, and because he knew well her spirit and her cleverness.
"Please, take a seat", he invited them, showing them the stuffed chairs in front of his desk of solid walnut. "Can I get you a drink?"
"The friars here produce an excellent porter beer", Violet informed Guy as they sat down. "I suggest you a taste of it."
"Very well", the sheriff accepted. "Thank you, Prior."
Matthew signalled to Brother Peter, who had been waiting on the threshold, and the monk nodded before leaving.
"You know the reason of our visit already", Violet said, turning to the prior. "Can you send us someone to take up the position as the castle's chaplain? And can you give us the liturgical items I listed in my message?"
"Aye to both", Matthew confirmed. "I will send the sacred furnishings to the castle tomorrow, and in a few moments I will send for the brother I chose as your chaplain for you to meet him. I'm very glad you and your husband thought about my monastery", he added, including Guy into the conversation. "The old baron wasn't... how can I put it... much inclined to spirituality."
"He wasn't, indeed", Guy confirmed. "I must confess, Prior, that neither I am very inclined to it; but Violet is the lady of the castle and expressed her wish to restore and use our chapel, and I'm happy to fulfil her request."
Matthew looked at Guy in appreciation.
"I thank you for your honesty, Lord Nottingham", he said. "I much more prefer a man who professes to be not religious but acts honestly over one who goes to Mass every day and then commits liable deeds."
Guy held the older man's inquisitive but frank gaze.
"I strive to be part of the first category of men you named", he declared in a firm tone.
Matthew thought that, if Violet had married Guy in spite of his past bad reputation, his statement had to be genuine.
"I'm sure of this", he nodded.
At that moment, Brother Peter came back in with a tray, carrying a jug of simple earthenware and three wooden cups. Thurgarton wasn't one of the richest monasteries of the county, though the monks lived with dignity off their work and the donations of the peasants and the local gentry. Anyway, Matthew had adopted a very simple lifestyle, despite his noble origins.
Brother Peter placed the tray on the desk and poured the beer into the goblets.
"Thank you, Peter", Matthew said. "Please, summon Tuck for me now."
The monk nodded and exited again. Matthew took a cup and raised it to his guests. "Here's to your health."
"Thank you", Guy answered, grasping a cup in turn. "To yours, Prior."
Violet nodded, joining the toast, as she took the third goblet and raised it to the churchman.
They drank. After the second sip, Guy agreed upon the beer being truly excellent and asked the prior if it would be possible to purchase a few barrels. Matthew was very pleased and answered positively. They were agreeing on price and quantity when Tuck came in.
Catching sight of him respectfully waiting on the threshold, Matthew signalled him to enter.
"Lady and Lord Nottingham", he said in a formal way. "May I introduce Brother Tuck? He too fought in the Holy Land in the Crusade of our good King Richard. He was wounded in one of the first battles and therefore he's been invalided out. In gratitude to Our Lord who has miraculously saved him from death, Tuck decided to pronounce the vows, which were confirmed six months ago."
Tuck moved into the room. He was tall and sturdy like one could expect for a soldier. His brown face held a gentle but firm expression, like I'm a good person but you better don't make me angry. He limped noticeably on his left leg, but nevertheless he strode with confidence, helping himself with a heavy staff. Guy guessed that, in case of need, he could use it as a weapon.
"Tuck, these are Lady Violet and Lord Guy, Baroness and Baron of Nottingham", Matthew completed the introduction.
Tuck bowed his head, showing his respect.
"I'm glad to meet Your Ladyship and Lordship", he said in a courteous but not obsequious tone. "Prior Matthew did me the honour to give me the office to be your chaplain. I hope my services will be to your liking."
Violet appreciated his words and the tone he had pronounced them.
"Nice to meet you, Brother Tuck", she said. "If my good friend the Prior Matthew has chosen you to be our chaplain, I'm sure you're meet our expectations. When are you going to start coming?"
"As early as tomorrow morning, Lady Violet."
Violet turned to her husband. "Is that good for you, Guy?"
"Anything that's good for you is good for me, my lady wife", the baron declared. He didn't smile, but his gaze was warm. Seeing this, Violet felt a fluttering in her stomach, and, without realising it, she returned his gaze with equal warmth.
The prior noticed the exchange and was reassured about Violet's situation. It actually seemed that the two spouses shared feelings of love that were absolutely not granted, among nobles.
"So 'tis settled", he intervened. "There's over an hour's ride from here to Nottingham Castle", he then went on, looking at Guy and Violet. "In case of bad weather, Brother Tuck may not be able to come, or he could be stuck at the castle."
Violet nodded and spoke directly to the monk. "Should you meet any hindrance, Brother Tuck, we won't make a big deal out of it", she assured him. "And in case you should be caught by bad weather while in Nottingham, you can stay as long as needed, even for the night."
"Thank you, Lady Violet."
"I warn you he's got the heartiest of appetites", Matthew chuckled. Tuck smirked, his pure white teeth flashing between his fleshy lips before he hastily regained his composure. The prior's observation and the friar's reaction roused an unexpected feeling of liking in Guy for both of them:. It was apparent that their shared background as soldiers made them different from usual churchmen, whom he usually saw as an annoyance. Recalling where Violet stood about ecclesiastics, he thought that Matthew had made a wise choice.
According to the custom, Guy and Violet made a generous donation to the monastery, in the form of a pouch full of gold coins, in exchange for Brother Tuck's services.
Matthew thanked them, then Tuck took his leave and they finished drinking. They then briefly discussed the business transaction about a certain number of the monastery's beer barrels, and finally Guy and Violet bid goodbye and made their way to Nottingham.
The afternoon was declining toward night, but there were still several hours of daylight left, so they took their time.
"Well, what do you think of Matthew?" Violet asked.
"I like him… for a churchman", Guy answered. "And Tuck too", he added, anticipating his wife's possible second question.
"Glad to hear that", Violet declared, clearly relieved. He cast her a puzzled glance.
"If I didn't like Tuck, would you have asked for another chaplain?" he enquired.
"Of course, because I know you're not enthusiastic about churchmen, therefore I'd have asked Matthew to choose someone else, someone more to your liking. Anyway, if Tuck wasn't to my liking, I'd have done the same", Violet concluded with a shrug and a unruly smirk.
Guy chuckled, remembering what she had stated a few hours ago. "You truly have no great affection for ecclesiastics?"
"I have no affection for anyone who sees only the evil in people and not the good too", Violet clarified firmly. "I don't like those who speak only about punishment and never about hope, who believe that life has to be only suffering and never joy, who think that beauty is a sin and forget that 'tis a gift of God as much as everything else", she shook her head. "I respect the cloth, but if any churchman or churchwoman would behave like this in our house, I'd show them the way out. Kindly, but firmly. With your leave, of course…"
Guy made his typical lopsided smirk, but his eyes were gleaming with amusement.
"Oh, in such a case, you'd have all my support, don't worry!" he cried, then he turned to look at her. "As you have my support in everything else", he added in an earnest tone.
Violet felt a lump starting down her throat. Guy's esteem made her really very happy.
"And for this, I'll never thank you enough", she affirmed softly. Guy realised she was thinking back at how she had been treated by her first husband, as she had to ask for his leave for anything she was going to do, except for the strictly womanly matters. Once more, he felt a terrible resentment against the late Baron of Roganton. He nearly wanted him to be still alive to have the chance to gut him in a single combat.
They were now in the neighbourhood of Nottingham and coming out of the forest. Violet, running her glance on the verdant ground in front of them, caught sight of a rich tuft of plantain, which was useful both as a vegetable in cooking – for instance, into omelettes or salads – and as a medicinal herb for its anti-inflammatory and astringent properties, excellent in the form of infusion or concoction to cure cough and phlegm.
"I'd like plucking some of that plant", she said, pointing at it.
"Go on", Guy approved, pulling at Darkshadow's reins. Violet halted Snowflake, then she jumped nimbly off the saddle, but she hadn't seen a stone hidden in the grass and her right foot landed right over it. She felt an excruciating pain in her ankle and fell with a scream, half in pain, half in surprise.
Guy leaped down his horse and in a flash kneeled next to her.
"Violet!" he cried. "What's up?"
"My ankle", she answered, gritting her teeth. "I twisted it. Damn!" she growled in a very unladylike way.
"Let me see", Guy said, lifting the hem of her skirt. Violet wore knee-high riding boots, fastened with leather strings. He untied them, then he carefully slipped the boot off her foot and felt her ankle.
"Does it hurt much?" he asked, unable to conceal the anxiety in his voice.
"Quite", she confirmed. She tried to move cautiously the joint, but a pang of pain pierced her and she grimaced. "Sprain", she grumbled with an exasperated sigh. "What a fool I've been…!"
Guy frowned at her-
"No one calls my wife a fool", he said in an earnest tone. "Not even my wife."
He gained a chuckle, and this heartened him, as distracting her had been precisely his intent.
"What can I do?" he asked at this point.
"Help me getting on my horse again", Violet answered. "I don't have to walk, therefore, once at the castle, I'm afraid you'll have to carry me to my bedchamber."
"This won't be a problem", Guy assured her. He put her boot into Snowflake's saddlebag, then he stooped and helped Violet on her feet. Once she was standing, he scooped her up and carried her to his own horse.
"No need", Violet protested. "I can ride…"
"I'd rather not have you riding by yourself", he declared in a tone that invited no argument, lifting her to the warhorse's back. "Darkshadow won't even feel the different weight", he added more gently, mounting behind her. To give her some room, he moved as much as possible backwards, but though the saddle was quite large, it was surely too small for two people, forcing them to a close contact.
He grasped Snowflake's reins, then he signalled to his charger to move. Obediently, Darkshadow began walking.
"I'm sorry", Violet said, uneasy about the trouble she was causing.
"About what?" Guy was surprised. "It could happen to anyone, even to me", his lips curled in his typical crooked smirk. "Actually, it happened to me, twice, once precisely jumping off my horse. Ask Drastan! He was there. My horse bolted, leaving me there in the middle of the path. Drastan had to haul me up on his destrier and then he hiked all the way to Lord Glenford's mansion. So you see that that was a worse mishap than this…"
Soothed, Violet relaxed. It was pleasant, she thought, feeling Guy's arms around her and the heat of his body against her back. Comforting. Reassuring. Without realising it, she leaned back, nestling deeper in her husband's embrace.
Guy felt like melting. Violet's behaviour was expressing intimacy and trust. He felt even more protective of her but, because of the close proximity of their bodies, his desire for her ignited. He frowned: how could he think about that, while she was hurting because of her sprained ankle? He felt ashamed and suppressed any thought in that direction.
They needed only twenty minutes before arriving at Nottingham's gates, and ten more to reach the castle.
"Shall I send for the physician, or Matilda?" Guy asked.
"No, I can handle this myself", Violet answered. "I'll just require Sally's assistance."
Sally was Joanna's daughter. The head cook had suggested her as Violet's personal maid. Sally was a couple of years younger than the baroness and, though she possessed a softer character than her mother, she was equally efficient and capable. Violet had liked her at once, and therefore had hired her.
Guy slid off the saddle and, as the groom was coming to take their horses, he helped his wife down, grasping her around her waist and then scooping her up in his arms. He ordered to send for Sally to the guard that hastily opened the gate for them, then he ascended the staircase leading to the first floor, where their bedchambers were located. In the hallway they met Lance, the boy who had assisted Violet during the measles epidemic The lad neglected on the spot any task he was performing to run ahead of them and open the door to Violet's bedchamber. The baroness cast Lance a grateful smile, and noticing it, Guy muttered a thank-you. His was neither arrogance nor indifference, only the usual distance nobility showed to servants, which Violet had experienced at Roganton Castle. It was a very different behaviour than the familiar one she had been used to in her much smaller home, Chetwood Manor.
Guy placed his wife carefully down on the bed. Seeing Lance lingering on the threshold, waiting for possible requests, Violet beckoned him, drawing his attention.
"Lance, please go to the stables and fetch me my saddlebags", she instructed him. "And while you're there, get the baron's too."
"Aye, my lady", the boy answered, rushing away.
Violet lifted her skirt to check on her twisted ankle. As she had expected, it had swelled up, but not as much as she had feared, meaning that the sprain was minor.
She began to move her leg to lay it on the bed. Guy promptly intervened to help her, placing one hand under her heel and cautiously lifting her foot. Then, he kneeled and unfastened the boot Violet was still wearing, taking it off.
"Oh heavens, what happened?" a female voice asked from the door, still open after Lance's leaving. They both turned to look who was there. On the threshold stood Sally, her blond hair gathered in a long braid falling on one shoulder.
"I sprained my ankle", Violet explained concisely. "I need some towels and a basin with cold water."
"I'll be right back!"
The maid disappeared. Guy looked at his wife. "Is there something else I can do for you?"
His ongoing care was deeply touching Violet's heart.
"Well, there's Sally now…" she observed in a low, almost intimidated voice.
"In sickness and in health", Guy quoted, reminding her part of the marriage vows. "It applies to both spouses, the husband as much as the wife."
The smile she addressed him, full of gratitude and – perhaps – affection, thrilled him. Their gazes met and locked.
"Good, then", Violet murmured. "On the shelf there are some wooden boxes, can you bring me the rightmost?"
Guy quickly fetch it. Violet opened the case, full of small terracotta jars, carefully sealed with corks. She chose one and returned the box to her husband, who placed it back on the shelf.
"Arnica ointment", Violet explained, lifting the jar. "It'll ease the pain, but before applying it, I need to reduce the swelling with cold compresses, that's why I asked Sally for water and towels. Better applying a poultice of green clay too, to speed up the process. And chamomile infusion to cure the inflamed tendons and ligaments. Then, I'll have to bandage the ankle to keep it straight. A few days of rest, mayhap a sennight, will do the rest."
Guy had already seen Violet at work as a healer during the measles epidemic, and though he already knew her reputation, he had been greatly impressed. Now he was finding further confirmation about her skill and competence.
Lance came in with their saddlebags. Guy took them and dismissed the boy, then he recovered the boot he had taken off Violet's sprained foot and placed it next to the other one. Finally, he put the bag upon the footlocker.
Soon enough, Sally was back with the cold water and the towels. At last convinced he was leaving her in good hands, Guy retired to his bedchamber and ordered a bath. As he was soaking in lukewarm water, he recalled the afternoon, so full of thrilling events: at first, the kissing and caressing with his wife, which had his blood boiling in his veins, and then the incident that, for a moment, had frozen it. Contrasting emotions that were nothing but the two sides of the same coin.
The one proclaiming, beyond any possible doubt, that he was madly in love with Violet.