Page 52 of Stay with Me

Beatrice held up the rushlight to reveal a simple interior much like her cottage, except there was a bed against one wall. Made of a square wooden box frame, it seemed both too short aswell as too narrow. But it contained a lumpy mattress as well as blankets—which was more than Ralph and Beatrice had.

A rough-hewn table with stools stood against one wall. The wooden shelves above it were crowded with an assortment of dishes, crocks, and jugs. A cloak hung from a peg on the wall above a chest with several clothing items folded on top.

Sybil had expected it to be less tidy, even disgusting like Dawson and Acey’s flat. But the one room was surprisingly clean.

“Sit down with you.” Beatrice pointed to the stool at the same time she rushed to answer a knock on the door. A bright-eyed young woman peeked into the house at Sybil before smiling shyly and handing a sack to Beatrice.

When they were alone again and the door closed, Beatrice began to empty the contents on the table—what appeared to be soap and salves and an assortment of linens. “Time to get you ready for your first night with that handsome husband of yours.”

So that’s what this was. Beatrice believed this was her real wedding night, that she would sleep with Nicholas. At just the thought, Sybil flushed and pushed up from the table. “Can’t.”

Beatrice laughed lightly as she guided Sybil back to the stool. “After that kiss at your wedding, yes you can. You’ll have no trouble.”

Sybil was afraid of that. She didn’t need Beatrice making her more appealing so that the resisting would be even harder.

“Now first, let’s get you out of your tunic.” Beatrice began to tug at the sleeves.

Sybil examined the linens on the table and on the chest. “Will I have a nightdress of some kind—”

“Of course not. Why would you need anything?”

“I needsomething.”

“I have your nightcap here.” Beatrice held up an oddly shaped piece of material.

Did Beatrice really expect her to get into bed naked wearing only a silly hat? “Oh no. I really can’t.”

“Don’t you worry. Nicholas is a sensitive man. Knowing him, he’ll be very careful—”

“Sweet holy mother.” Sybil jumped up and paced away, pressing her hands to her overheated cheeks.

She wasn’t sure why the conversation was so mortifying. She wasn’t naïve and knew everything there was to know about sex already. With the way sex was flaunted in modern times, she would have expected herself to remain unruffled at Beatrice’s almost-birds-and-the-bees talk. But for a reason she couldn’t explain, the suggestions of Nicholas and her being together intimately only charged her nerves with a strange energy she didn’t want to dwell on.

“Please find me a nightgown, Beatrice. Please.”

Beatrice laughed again. “Very well. But you’ve got nothing to fear. Now come here and let me do what I was trained for. It’s been too long, and I’m excited to take care of you.”

Sybil nearly groaned out her protest. She wasn’t about to get ready for Nicholas, and she also couldn’t imagine sitting down and letting Beatrice pamper her with strange products. She didn’t wear makeup except a little mascara once in a while. She’d never had a manicure in her life. She didn’t follow the fashions. And she kept her hairstyle simple.

But how could she deny Beatrice this opportunity to care for someone again the way she used to?

Sybil bit back words of refusal and returned to the stool, praying that somehow, someway, she would be able to keep her sanity during the long night ahead.

~ 20 ~

“Thought for sure you’d be abedwith your bride by now.” Ralph’s voice rumbled from beside Nicholas where he leaned against a tree in the shadows.

“I decided to take first watch.” He kept his gaze trained on the dark shadows of the forest, searching for anything unusual. But so far, the only movement had been from bats, a hedgehog, and an owl swooping down to catch a field vole. He’d heard nothing but the trills of spawning toads and the occasional whine of a distant fox.

“Any other man would’ve taken watch for you tonight.”

“True, but I brought this peril upon us.” During the feast, the men had discussed the threat Simon now posed to the village. They’d decided to keep watch for the next few days, just in case Simon’s guards ventured farther into the Weald.

Ralph rested a shoulder against the opposite side of the tree. He spat into the long grass at the edge of the meadow while gazing up at the sky that was lit with a million stars.

The night had taken on a chill, but Nicholas was counting on the cold air to keep him awake.

“I have decided I must move on from Devil’s Bend.” He’d contemplated the matter a great deal throughout the eve, especially as he’d watched the villagers eat and make merry, putting aside their own troubles to celebrate with him.

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