Soul Searching (Chapter 18)
oddball011:
yea!! I lovee your storys and im eager for an update
Mandie:
A group of four soldiers waited outside in the bailey. Mary shyly approached them dragging her small trunk behind her. The leader, a large man with bad teeth, grinned at her as he threw the trunk on the back of the pack horse, lashing it down with heavy ropes. After securing it, he turned slowly to face her.
“We have to get going if we’re going to get you home before dark. It’s going to be long and hard, and we can’t make many stops. If you must stop, speak to me.” His low gravelly voice was slightly frightening to Mary. She had spent the last ten years of her life without even seeing a man, other than her father. Nodding shyly, she was whisked off her feet and placed on the broad back of a large white mare.
The men mounted their own destriers, and wordlessly surrounded her as they rode away from the convent. Mary glanced up at the attic window where she had spent so many mornings gazing over the moors. The four faces of her friends pressed against the crude glass. With tears in her eyes, Mary raised her hand as a last farewell.
The men were so silent. The only sounds were the horses’ hooves clopping over the cold ground. Since she was so leery of these men, Mary kept her mouth shut as well. In fact, no words were spoken until the group stopped for luncheon. Wordlessly, the taciturn men dismounted, forming a circle around Mary. Each man pulled bread, cheese, and dried meat from their saddlebags, the leader handing her some of his supplies. “If you need to relieve yourself, do so beyond those bushes before we leave.” He angled his head toward a large copse of bushes where one of the men was disappearing behind. A blush rushed across Mary’s cheeks as she nodded and angled her head down.
Sitting on a large rock, Mary chomped her food. Slowly, she realized that the men were quietly talking to one another. Surprisingly, the low rumble of voices was comforting to Mary after the silent morning. Her mouth was so dry, but she didn’t want to ask anyone for a drink. She didn’t know the etiquette out on the trail, but since they didn’t talk to her, she was fairly sure she wasn’t supposed to talk to them either.
Glaring at the bushes, Mary realized that she really did need to use the necessary. She didn’t want to do it in front of all these men, and was wondering what she should do. Seething at her stupidity, she had just made the decision to just do it when the leader gave the signal to mount up. Winking at her, he nodded toward the bushes then turned his back. Gathering her skirts, Mary raced across the open grass toward the bushes, taking advantage of the situation. She finished quickly, then hurried back to join the men. The leader lifted her back onto her horse then handed her a water skin. She took several large swigs before handing it back with a smile of thanks.
As they started off again, Mary hoped that her bottom would come out of this adventure in one piece. Already, her lower back, her thighs, and of course her bottom ached and burned. She would need to make a cup of Cananga tea to help her muscles relax before bed tonight. The thought of seeing her family again excited her. She hadn’t seen them in almost a year. Usually they came every year on her birthday, but of course they hadn’t come this year. Not all the girls’ families visited. Elena hadn’t seen hers since she had arrived two years ago. The last time Mary had seen her parents, she had been struck by the fact that they were getting old.
They had only ever been able to conceive the two girls, and when her father passed away, their estate would be inherited by a distant cousin. Her sister Rebecca was destined to marry him, and their mother would be provided for if she survived her husband. Rebecca was able to stay at home with their mother, instead of going to the convent with Mary. Mary often wondered if her mother insisted upon it because Rebecca was her favorite. She really didn’t envy her sister, though. Cousin George was bratty and immature. She hoped her own husband would be different.
oddball011:
i
One:
Great story, keep up the good work! I'm looking forward to the next chapter!
Mandie:
I'm really sorry it took me so long to update. It's been really hectic around here. As an apology, here is a longer chapter.
As slow as the trip seemed to be, they finally arrived at her family’s estate. The sights tickled her memory, although everything was older and some things had completely changed. Her family, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, stood in the courtyard waiting for her. Mary tiredly slid off her horse and stumbled into her parents’ arms. Even though the impending marriage terrified her, she was thrilled to finally be home again. Each of the women wiped tears from her eyes as her father gruffly excused himself to go thank the men. As soon as the dismissed men turned to go to their homes, the family entered the house.
Rebecca chattered excitedly about the next day, but Mary was too tired to participate. The two girls had always been the best of friends, even with Mary away at the convent. She longed to share her fears with someone, but felt like Rebecca was too young to understand. She hadn’t been exposed to the same things, and she was still innocent in her idealistic beliefs.
Mary’s mother, Sarah patted her arm understandingly and smiled at her eldest daughter. “Why don’t you go upstairs to your room? You can take a nice hot bath, then eat some supper. We will be eating down here, but if you feel too tired to come down, I’ll send one of the wenches up with a tray for you. Tomorrow morning, I’d like the entire family to meet for one last breakfast.” She teared up again, sighing, “My eldest daughter, a wife.” Sniffing delicately, she turned to make sure supper was ready in the kitchens.
Mary gratefully ambled up the stairs, Rebecca chattering on next to her. “I’ll show you the way to your new rooms, Mary. Now that you are going to be married, you have to have new rooms! Isn’t it lovely? I helped Mother with the tapestry.” The girl happily pointed to a beautiful red woolen banner hanging on the wall.
Nodding, Mary replied, “It looks lovely, Becca. Thank you for helping Mama.” Her sister happily skipped from the room, leaving Mary alone. A soft knock came on the door. Mary opened it to a bevy of serfs carrying buckets of hot water. They each poured the steaming liquid into the heavy wooden tub sitting in the corner behind a large screen. As Mary was, again, left alone, she dug through her herb bag for a handful of rosemary and violets. Dropping them into the water, she sighed as she loosened her dress. Placing the soiled clothing in a heap on the floor, she stepped into the tub. Sighing, she sank into the liquid heat. The smell of the herbs swirled around her, helping her relax and calm down. She scrubbed her body and hair with special rose-scented soap she had made at the convent. When she felt sufficiently clean, she stood, the water sluicing down every curve of her body. Stepping from the tub, she dried herself with the rough drying-cloth.
Briefly considering joining her family for supper, Mary decided to stay in her room. This day had been draining, both physically and emotionally. She dawned a virginal white nightdress and sat on a chair staring at the tray her mother had sent up. Her stomach rebelled at the thought of eating, but Mary forced herself to eat a few bites. Shoving the tray aside, she climbed up into the large bed. It was just as soft and luxurious as she had remembered. Had it just been this morning that she was lying in a cold cot in the convent? It seemed a lifetime ago. Curling up on her side, she finally let her emotions overwhelm her. Mary Elizabeth cried herself to sleep.
It was still dark when she woke. Walking over to her pitch-covered window, she leaned against the cold stone wall and watched the sky lighten. It would be hours before she would be expected to awaken. Mary climbed back into her bed and, to her surprise, fell asleep again. The next thing she knew, Rebecca was shaking her awake. “Wake up Mary! Today is your wedding day!” Shuddering, she sat up. By tonight, she would be a wife.
Breakfast was a celebration for the family, except for Mary. She tried to enjoy being home again, but she was terrified of what was to come. Looking around the table, tears came to her eyes as she realized what she was losing, again. Her father, George, still had black hair, although the temples had greyed. His deep brown eyes still shone with mischief. He looked very debonair.
Her mother, Sarah, had grey sprinkled through her thick brown hair as well. Her green eyes kept looking lovingly at her daughters. The creases on her face showed her age.
Rebecca, who seemed so young, had her curly brown hair tamed to two thick braids. She had inherited both her father’s eyes, and his penchant for mischief.
Lastly, there was Mary. No one knew where her white-blonde hair had come from, but it was beautiful. She had her mother’s grass green eyes. She was taller than her mother, but still shorter than her father. She smiled at her family and picked at her food.
After a leisurely breakfast, she was sequestered to her room. Her mother had sewn a wedding dress for her, but the last few measurements had to be taken and the last few seams had to be sewn. Several women from the village had shown themselves to be excellent seamstresses, and all of them were working feverishly at finishing the dress in time. Time and again, the soft white woolen dress was pulled on, pinned up, and pulled off again. Finally, Mary was dressed carefully in pretty, soft undergarments, the edges of which were covered in carefully tatted lace. She was placed on the bed, while a serving wench brought in a tray of lunch. As the door opened, Mary could hear a loud commotion downstairs. Several unfamiliar voices floated up to her ears. Could it be that the Blakes had finally arrived? Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized that her future had no way of changing. She pushed the tray away. There was no way she could eat. Her stomach was roiling.
All too soon, the dress was finished. It was pulled over her head, and laced up her back. The women murmured in awe of the resplendent bride, and left her alone with her thoughts as her only companions. She paced back and forth across the room, her nerves making her ill. Just as she was ready to pull her hair in frustration, someone knocked softly on the door. As it opened, her father was revealed, tears in his eyes.
He took her into his arms. “Oh my sweet girl!” He swallowed, trying not to cry. His baby girl looked so grown up. “I love you so much, daughter. John William will make a wonderful husband for you. He has grown up well, as you have. Be happy, my girl.” He kissed her on her cheeks and her forehead then released her. Mary had tears in her own eyes as she returned his kisses. She allowed him to take her arm in his and lead her out of the room, straight into her doom.
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