The effect was electric.
A tingle went from my scalp to my toes, leaving my senses heightened in its wake. His massage slowed.
The room was growing warm. My clothes were stifling. There was a buzzing in my ears. Without asking my permission, I felt my body lean into his.
His breathing fanned my hair. And then stopped.
Then, at an instant, as if a bomb had exploded between us, we hurled ourselves away from each other.
“Thanks, Cranwell. Perfect.” I bent at my waist to the right and left to demonstrate my newfound mobility. “Wonderful. Thanks a lot. That was nice of you.” I sprinted toward the stairs. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
As I zipped up the stairs and past the entry hall it occurred to me that this was the first time I had ever run away from my own kitchen. The kitchen was
Slowing to a walk, I then stopped altogether. It wasn’t right that I should be run out of my own kitchen.
Reversing directions, I descended the stairs, determined to face the situation between us.
As I reached the bottom of the stairwell, I saw Cranwell was still there. He was seated at the island. He had stretched his upper body across the marble countertop, arms bent and his hands clasped over his head. It was a position of utter defeat or extreme pain.
Not wanting to startle him, I cleared my throat.
He scraped himself off the marble and turned on his stool to face me.
I’d never seen him look so haggard.
He pushed off the stool and walked with wooden legs toward the stairs, Lucy following behind.
“See you at dinner.”
“No.” He didn’t even turn to look at me. “Not tonight, Freddie. I just can’t do it.”
I sat on his abandoned stool and stayed there for a long while. When I got up, I revised the evening’s menu. The pork cutlets I had intended for dinner, I put in the fridge; they would keep for the next evening. Two of the
A humble dinner of a salad, a ham and gruyere
I couldn’t remember.
32
I am stupid. In the wonder of what has happened, I understand everything now. I know why Agnes has not liked Anne. I realize why Anne is by times so kind and then so cruel.
Awen and Anne are lovers.
I do not know what to do. Do J want a husband more than I need my friend? What should I do in this strange country without her? And how should I manage the chateau?
I must speak to Agnes. She is the only one I can trust.
My friend the most close is the lover of my husband and has been these three years.
I have spoken with Agnes.
Agnes demanded of me if I had become a wife.
I did not understand. Of course, yes. Three years since. And she had been at the noces.
She took me toward the window and then sat me down. She demanded of me to tell her exactly what happens at night when Awen comes. She warned me to speak to her the exact truth.
So I did.
She kept demanding of me if there was nothing else, but there is not.
What more could I reply to her than this: he speaks to me of stories until I fall asleep and then stays until the fire goes out. At least he did until more recently.
She told me then what a man does to a woman to make her his wife. That I had choices and I must make a decision. If I tell father what has happened. Agnes says me that I do not have to be married to Awen any longer and that I can go back to my country, Touraine. She says me that the church will annul the marriage.
She says me that I could continue here and leave things the way they always have been. She says me that it is not uncommon for a man to have a maitresse and that this is not the worst of things.
Or she told me that I had the right to demand Awen as a husband. And as his wife, I had the right to send Anne away.
I must think.
I must pray for to be wise.
eight days before Saint Simon
He came to me this night, but I did not open the door to him.
six days before Saint Simon
If I were a crazed creature before, I now feel as shriveled inside as a prune. If I go home, father will find for me another husband, I am certain. But would this new husband please me?
four days before Saint Simon
He came to me this night, but I did not open the door to him.
three days before Saint Simon
I cannot go on as if I understand nothing.
two days before Saint Simon
He came to me this night, but I did not open the door to him.
one day before Saint Simon
Do I want a husband? Must I have one? If only I could live alone. But I cannot. I am much too valuable. If I return to home, if the marriage is annulled, I would be fianceed within one month.
How much more easy it would be to just leave things as they are. And pretend as if I understand nothing.
day of Saint Simon
He came to me this night, but I did not open the door to him.
one day after Saint Simon
By times, I truly hate him.
I cannot have him as my husband and leave him also Anne. I would never have any confidence. I would never have my own life. It would always be shared. With her. In addition, it is me the wife. It is mine the marriage. If there remains something which can be blessed by God, it is my life and my marriage, and none belonging to Anne. It is she the penitent and me the righteous.
Anne must go.
two days after Saint Simon
He came to me this night. I unbolted the door to him, and then walked toward the fire. My soul sought all the warmth it could find.
He pushed the door open and stood in the doorway, searching my eyes.
I turned away from him, back toward the fire.
He closed the door and came to me.
I backed away from him, toward the windows, as he advanced until I discovered my back was against the wall.
I warned him not to come near.
He would not stop.
I touched the cool stones and felt their strength.
He stopped just in front of me.
I took my hand from the wall and slapped him across the face.
