As my lord bowed to me, he lowered not his eyes. And dark as they are, they smoldered in his head, sending their heat to all they looked upon. And they looked upon my lips and my cheeks and my own eyes. Even to my shoulders and lower. And this I do not understand: it had not at all the same effect as when the comte had done the same thing.
And from this start, I could not escape those eyes.
It seemed to me that I was trapped with him in the dance. In the rhythm of sliding back and forth and raising up and coming down. If his eyes had arms they would have seized me. I am certain of it.
And after the danse basse large, the trihoris. And as we turned toward each other and then away and came close to each other and parted, it seemed to me with each step, whether in or out, he pulled me closer to him. And as my feet kept the music, my ears heard it not and I saw, still with all the people in the room, only him. As if my sight had been blocked from all but his face.
There was trouble with my breath. It would not come. And I could feel my color rise.
He did not move his hand from mine and it burned beneath my palm.
But though I wanted, I could not turn away from the dance.
After, when I took my rest, I was making conversation with Agnes and watching the musicians and jongleurs toss their toys. But my lord was brooding.
When the musicians made a pause, he got up from his chair, slapped his hand to the table, and pointed at me. “She,” he spoke in a loud voice, meaning me, “is my lady.”
All the world fell silent.
Then the men left the side of Anne and made homage to me.
When the men were done, my lord took my arm and made me leave with him. He placed me in my room and left.
Later this night, my lord came to me. Not to speak of stories, but to demand my pardon. He told me he had caused me dishonor by not honoring me among his people.
I am ignorant of what this means.
three days before Saint Dynys
My father has replied to me. There is a chevalier of the viscomte de Rideau of good reputation and newly widowed. He has thirty-five years and is possessed of property. He will do for Anne when the hour is arrived.
two days before Saint Dynys
Last night, my lord came to me.
He settled himself on the bed as he has the habit. Then he told me a new story: about two men named loen and Herik and a woman named Klaoda. Ioen is fianceed to Klaoda and has twelve less years than she. Herik is her cousin and lover. As loen becomes older, Klaoda comes to love him. She does not know whether to send Herik away or to keep them both.
My lord demanded of me what I would do.
I did not know what to answer. Is it right to send away someone that you have loved? Is it right to keep two lovers? I decided finally that the wife, Klaoda, has wronged the husband by taking the cousin as a lover. It is to the husband that she owes loyalty, and not to the cousin. Had the cousin been honorable, he would have refused her advances. Had she not taken a lover, she would not have a problem. That is what I told him.
He sat up then on the bed and demanded of me if it made a difference if the woman loved them both.
I demanded of him if it were even possible to love two persons at a time.
He answered yes.
Then I reminded him of duty. Duty is present in the one case and absent in the other.
He repeated that word, Duty, in a strange tone and he demanded of me then what I should think were I the husband?
I laughed and pushed him so he fell onto his back on the bed. I demanded of him if I looked like the husband.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me onto the bed on top of him. He assured me that I did not look like the husband.
I think I must have shivered for he demanded of me if I had cold.
I must have told him so, for he threw back the covers and set me in them and then demanded of me if he might cover himself too.
This was strange, for it is the end of October and we have an ete de Saint Michel. It is much more warm than the night he came the last time. I thought perhaps he might be ill and not know it, so I told him he should do as he pleased.
He stood away from the bed then and removed his houppelande, keeping still his blouse.
I could not look too long and be immodest, but the light of the fire shone through the weave of the blouse and placed his form in silhouette. I could not keep my eyes from him. Everywhere I am soft, he is hard. Everywhere I curve, he is sharp.
It is strange that a bed which seemed to me so big just the night before could then seem so small. The smell of the linens, of lavender and sandalwood to which I have become habituated, was overtaken by his scent. I was not sure what to do or how to turn for sleep.
I decided to watch the fire for some moments and drew my feet under me. When I turned from its light, I found my lord watching my face.
I could not look elsewhere for his eyes.
They caught mine and would not let them go.
A tingling went over me from my scalp to my toes. And of a sudden, my mouth was dry. I told him that I thought I was falling ill.
He replied me that he thought he was falling in love. Then he placed his hands on my neck, drew me toward him, and kissed me.
I demanded of him to speak to me of other things.
He demanded of me how many years I have.
I told him. Sixteen. And strange it was that so many wished to know it.
He put a finger to my lips and kept me from speaking and demanded of me to call him Awen.
I replied to him of course, my lord, and then we both laughed.
He kissed me again.
And then he spoke to me. He told me that he suffers. He cannot sleep, though he tries. He cannot eat though he tries. He has melancholy and even baths and the letting of blood do not help.
I have fear for him, for as I looked, he did seem more pale, more sad, more listless.
I demanded of him if there is anything that might help.
He replied to me that being near me brings the only cure. And then he kissed me again. And he told me I might do the same, and so I tried, but I have fear I did not do it right, for he smiled. And then he laid me on the bed and brought his head near. He bid me do it again, for he told me it heals him.
And so I did, and this time, his lips moved over mine. And together they did a sort of dance. A long, slow dance, like the danse basse, with much sliding about and approaching and then pulling away. And the more it was done, the easier it became. And somehow his hands became tangled in my hair. And I realized that my hands gripped his hands.
He slept all night with his arm around me and his face to my hair.
I slept not at all.
one day before Saint Dynys
He came to me again this night. This makes only one night since he has been here last. I did not expect him for one month. He did not want to tell me a story. He wanted only to lie in bed and kiss me.
It made me want. What, I do not know.
one day after Saint Dynys
He did not come this night.
two days after Saint Dynys
He did not come this night.
three days after Saint Dynys
He did not come this night.
