The Virgin's War (Tudor Legacy #3)(42)
“And forsaking all others, keep thee only to her, so long as you both shall live?”
Kit’s eyes flickered to hers. Forsaking all others. His face was stripped of its usual good humour. For a heartbeat, Carlisle Cathedral melted away and she could see nothing but the man she must forsake for England.
As Littlefield pronounced the benediction, Anabel echoed the words as a silent prayer of her own for this man who loved her: God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you, the Lord mercifully with his favour look upon you.
—
Robert Cecil and Madalena Arias had organized a fine supper for after the wedding in the Warden’s Tower of Carlisle Castle. The members of Anabel’s privy council and her ladies, all of whom had cause to like and respect both Pippa and Matthew, attended and offered toasts of congratulations. Lord Scrope attended as well, with the chief of his March command.
Pippa sat securely between her husband and her twin. With her left hand clasped in Matthew’s, she turned to Kit and asked, “Well?”
He grinned. “Very well, from what I can see. Your frantic edge has gone.”
It had indeed, something that surprised Pippa a little—and almost made her sad. What if she hadn’t been so afraid all this time? Could she have had this peace much earlier? Even her body had responded. The coughing fits had eased this last week, so that she almost felt healthy.
Matthew leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Why were you so insistent on having Maisie Sinclair at this supper?”
Pippa turned quick enough to catch her cheek against his rough jaw and was momentarily distracted by the sensation. Attuned to her responses, Matthew held her there for a moment. She gave a breathy laugh and answered. “Cannot you guess why I wanted Maisie here—not just tonight, but in Carlisle itself? I thought you understood me better than anyone.”
Matthew shifted a bit to look into her eyes. His were dancing in a manner that made Pippa giddy. “I just wanted to know if you would admit to matchmaking.”
Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away from her husband to where Maisie Sinclair sat next to Stephen in close conversation. “Matchmaking would imply I set things in motion. They have done that themselves—I only want to help them recognize it.”
Stephen and Maisie were close, she judged. Close to recognizing that what they had was not mere friendship.
How could she not want that for all the world? Now that her own friendship had turned the corner to the love she’d always been afraid of, Pippa thought everyone should be as happy.
She was not afraid anymore. Once she made a decision, she did not look back. She was Matthew’s wife, for however long God gave them. As Matthew had said, that was all anyone could hope for. And she meant to revel in every moment given her.
Fortunately, Anabel was kind enough to retire early from the feast, freeing the newlyweds to retreat before their desire overcame their manners.
Pippa had asked Lucette alone to attend her. As the sisters left the Warden’s Tower, Pippa noted Kit moving next to Matthew. Her twin had an unusually forbidding expression on his face. “What do you think he’s saying?”
Lucette rolled her eyes. “Some variation of what Stephen said to Julien—‘Hurt my sister and I’ll kill you,’ that sort of thing.”
“You have been hurt,” Pippa noted. Even on the edge of her wedding night, she could not turn off the impulse to help.
“But not by Julien,” Lucette answered slowly. “It is only that he is the nearest to me, so he is the one to absorb my hurt.”
Then they were at the bedchamber set aside for the newlyweds, and Pippa allowed herself to be absorbed in the process of removing the elaborate and heavy gown Anabel had insisted upon and changing into a whisper-fine cambric chemise with blackwork at the cuffs and neckline and a thin silk robe tied with ribbons. Lucette unpinned her sister’s hair and brushed it until it lay in a heavy golden weight around her shoulders.
Pippa grasped Lucette’s hand, resting on her shoulder. She could see her sister’s face in the mirror. “?‘A fine cambric shift. And a bed.’ You recommended the state to me, as I recall. Were you at all uncertain?”
“I’m afraid I am far too earthly a woman to indulge in hesitation. I wanted Julien every bit as much as he wanted me.” Lucette bent and kissed the top of Pippa’s head. “But if you are hesitant, no one safer to take your worries to than Matthew.”
But when her sister had gone and her husband entered, Pippa discovered she had no thought of nerves. Only the wish to be in his arms and never, ever to leave them.
—
Maisie Sinclair had been somewhat surprised when the Scots left the border and she remained in England. She was even more surprised that Stephen agreed to remain as well. Of course, Stephen would hardly miss his sister’s wedding. And it was flattering to be asked to join the wedding supper, except that Maisie didn’t believe in wasting time being flattered. Better by far to know why things were being done.
She thought she understood Lady Philippa Courtenay—now Philippa Harrington—to some degree. It had been there in her teasing remarks to Maisie when they’d met again at Carlisle Castle.
I was also right in that conversation, Maisie Sinclair. Do you remember what I said to you?
Maisie never forget anything. Philippa had said: There is more to Stephen than duty, and a heart with room for more than one love. I do not think passion has finished with him quite yet.