Page 27 of The Raven and the Rose
“It—it’s very fattening,” said Rebecca on a whisper.
“Well, that’s certainly something you don’t have to worry about,” said Roseanna in her forthright manner.
“Oh, I do.” She blushed. “My husband is revolted by fat women,” she offered, as if this explained everything.
“Did you say you’d been ill?” asked Roseanna.
“I—I don’t enjoy good health. I thought I’d feel too poorly to attend the wedding, but of course it is expected of me. So Tristan insisted,” she finished lamely.
Roseanna stared at her in fascination. The girl was a horrible example of what she must never let herself become. Marriage to Montford had crushed her spirit. Christ, she was as timid as a mouse! She wondered what had attracted Tristan to her in the first place. Rebecca was exquisitely pretty, of course, but she seemed to be the type who would acquiesce rather than risk her husband’s displeasure.
Joanna stuck her head inside the room and said, “Roseanna, I think perhaps you’d better dress now. I have to go down to the audience chamber to see that the wedding gifts are displayed well. You’ll be very pleased with them. There are some particularly fine pieces of silver and a pair of carpets that must have been brought back from one of the crusades to the Holy Land. My advice is to take all the best stuff to Ravenspur Castle. Don’t leave any of it at the northern strongholds; I’ve heard they’re no better than barren piles of stone.”
Rebecca shuddered. “I don’t like the North. I always feel unwell here.”
Roseanna smiled at her. “Do you live at Ravenspur Castle?”
“Not in the castle itself. We have a manor house in Ravenspur Park. It’s only about two miles from the castle.”
“Good. We can ride over and visit each other.” Roseanna wondered why the girl looked so doubtful.God, don’t tell me Tristan doesn’t allow her to have friends and visitors,Roseanna thought contemptuously. But she didn’t know if her contempt was for Tristan or Rebecca.
Alice fluttered about holding a chemise that was so fine-spun, it looked as if it were made from fairy thread. But the dressing of the bride didn’t begin until Kate Kendall put her stodgy hand upon Roseanna’s shoulder and anchored her to the spot. Silken stockings and two pairs of garters adorned her legs; one pair could be stolen by any gentleman bold enough to dare. After the chemise, the wedding gown was lifted over her head. Alice knelt to attach the love knots to the skirt so that they could easily be pulled off for favors. If they were attached too firmly and the crowd of merrymakers became too enthusiastic, the bride ran the risk of being stripped naked.
Kate Kendall was doing her utmost to brush every last curly tangle from Roseanna’s magnificent hair. It fell down her back like a shining dark waterfall, glorying in its freedom on this nuptial day. “Hold still, or I’ll rattle yer teeth,” threatened Kate. Roseanna giggled because she didn’t know if Kate meant her or Alice.
Roseanna saw the full beauty of the gown with its white roses and rosebuds embroidered on shining white satin. Before, she had been blind to its beauty, never allowing herself to think of the ceremony with Ravenspur. Now she took pleasure in its beauty. Her fingers caressed the smooth material and traced the embroidery on the rose petals. The sleeves were long and wide, falling in points to her knees. Her mother had designed a tiny coronet of pearls that Alice now fixed in place. Then she pulled the frothy white veil down over her face.
Roseanna repeated instructions her mother had given her earlier. “I’m to go to the minster with Father in the coach.”
“Right,” said Kate, pursing her lips as she always did before delivering a piece of home truth. “Spare a few minutes for the poor man, Roseanna. He’s losing his spoiled darling today. Though I’m sure he’s very proud of you, he’s covering up a great deal of sadness, too.”
Roseanna squeezed the older woman’s hand; she was just beginning to know Kate. Ready at last, Roseanna looked around the room to see if she had forgotten anything. She had not yet seen the sleeping chamber that had been set aside for the bride and groom on their first night, but she knew it was in the general direction of the King’s apartments, well away from these rooms. Suddenly feeling nervous, she turned to Kate. “Be sure that my combs and brushes are taken along to the bridal chamber. You know how easily my hair tangles.”
Kate nodded. The women from the outer room were now crowding in to get a last look at the bride. They gave her sly looks that clearly said,We know what you’re in for tonight
Not if I can help it,she vowed to herself. “Kate, don’t forget a warm bedgown,” she added, stalling for time.
“Lass, lass, I’ll see to everything, from your favorite scent to your velvet slippers. Now be off and go with God, Roseanna.”
Impulsively, she hugged the older woman and kissed Alice; then she looked about for Rebecca. She sat wanly in a corner, her face the color of parchment. “Come on, Rebecca. You’re supposed to help me lift my train so I can walk in this gown.”
The girl seemed at a loss, so Roseanna flipped the excess material over her arm and offered her other hand to Rebecca.
The girl stood up willingly enough, but before they had gone through the arched doorway, she was in trouble with her own gown. Roseanna grinned ruefully as she bent to untangle Rebecca’s hem from a footstool.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Rebecca pitifully.
“Come on, girl. Buck up. I’m going to my wedding, not to my execution,” said Roseanna, laughing.
“Aren’t you afraid?” asked Rebecca in wonder.
Roseanna considered for a moment. Of course she was afraid, but she would die before she’d let anybody know it. Actually, she knew she would only get through the door if she thought of it as a challenge. “Afraid?” she asked Rebecca incredulously. “Ravenspur’s the one who should be quaking in his boots!”
Her father awaited her beside an ornate royal coach. “Father, I think we’d better get Rebecca inside first. She doesn’t seem very strong.”
Neville lifted the young woman in yellow into the coach and tucked her golden embroidered skirts around her ankles so that he could close the door. Then they went around the coach, and both entered from the opposite door. He looked at his daughter anxiously. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”
“I’m in fighting fettle,” she answered, trying to smile. “This is Rebecca Montford. She’s married to Ravenspur’s brother, God help her.”
