Why? John asked. I should have thought you would have much to do in a house of your own at last?
Because I am used to running a farmhouse, she said. With care for the still room, and the laundry, and the mending, and the feeding of the family and all the farm workers, and the health of the staff, the herb garden and the kitchen garden too! Here all I have to look after is two bedrooms and a kitchen and parlor. I have not enough to do.
Oh. John was genuinely surprised. I had not thought.
But I have started on a garden, she said shyly. I thought you might like it.
She pointed to a level area of ground outside the back door. The ground was marked out with pegs and twines into a square shape containing the serpentine twists of a maze. I was going to make it with chalk stones and flints in patterns of black and white, she said. I dont think anything tender will thrive because of the chickens.
You cant have chickens in a knot garden, John said decidedly.
She chuckled and John looked down and saw with surprise that rosy happy face again. Well, we have to have chickens for their eggs and for your dinner, she said. So you must think of a way that chickens can be kept out.
John laughed. At Theobalds I am plagued with deer! he said. It seems very hard that in my own garden I shall still have pests to come and spoil my plants.
Perhaps we could get another plot of land for the chickens, she suggested. And fence this off so that you might grow whatever you wish.
John glanced down at the overworked light brown soil and the nearby midden. It is hardly the ideal place, he said.
At once he saw the color and the happiness drain from her face. She looked weary. Not after Theobalds Palace, I suppose.
Elizabeth! he exclaimed. I did not mean
She turned away from him and was leading the way into the cottage.
He stepped after her and was about to take her hand but some stupid shyness checked the movement. Elizabeth! he said more gently.
She hesitated, but she did not turn. I was afraid you were never coming back, she whispered. I was afraid that you had married me to fulfil the agreement, and to get my dowry, and that you would never come back to me at all.
Of course! Of course I would come back! He was astounded at her. I married you in good faith! Of course I would come back!
She dipped her head down and then pulled up her apron to rub at her eyes. Still she did not turn around to him. You did not write, she said softly. And it has been two months.
Now it was he who turned away. He looked away from the house, over the little plot where his horse grazed, and toward the hill where the square-towered church pointed up at the sky. I know, he said shortly. I meant to
She raised her head but still she did not turn around. He thought they must look a pair of fools, back to back in their own yard instead of in each others arms.
Why did you not? she asked softly.
He cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment. I cannot write very fair, he said awkwardly. That is to say, I cannot write at all. I can read a bit, I can reckon very swiftly, but I cannot write. And anyway I should not know what to say.
She turned to him; but in his embarrassment, he did not see her. He was digging the heel of his riding boot into the corner of her little square of hen-scratched dust.
What would you have said, if you had written? she asked and her voice was very soft and tempting. It was a voice which a man would turn to and rest upon. John resisted the temptation to spin on his heel, snatch her up and bury his face in her neck.
I would have said I was sorry, he confessed gruffly. Sorry to have been ill-tempered on our wedding night, and sorry that I had to leave you that very morning. When I was angry with them for making a noise I had thought that we would have the next day in peace, and that anything troublesome could be mended then. I had thought to wake early in the morning and love you then. But then the message came and I went up to London and there was no way of telling you that I was sorry.
Hesitantly she stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder.
I am sorry too, she said simply. I thought these things were easier for men. I thought that you were doing just exactly what you wished. I thought that you had not bedded me because her voice became choked and she ended in a thin whisper because you have an aversion to me, and that you went back to Theobalds to avoid me.
John spun around and snatched his wife to his heart. I do not! He felt her whole frame convulse with a deep sob. I do not have an aversion!
She was warm in his arms and her skin was soft. He kissed her face and her wet eyelids, and her smooth sweet neck and the dimples of her collarbone at the neck of her gown, and suddenly he felt desire sweep over him as easy and as natural as a spring rainstorm across a field of grass. He scooped her up and carried her into the house and kicked the door shut behind him, and he laid her down on the hearthrug before the little spinsters fire where she had sat, alone and lonely, for so many evenings, and loved her until it grew dark outside and only the firelight illuminated their enfolded bodies.
She was warm in his arms and her skin was soft. He kissed her face and her wet eyelids, and her smooth sweet neck and the dimples of her collarbone at the neck of her gown, and suddenly he felt desire sweep over him as easy and as natural as a spring rainstorm across a field of grass. He scooped her up and carried her into the house and kicked the door shut behind him, and he laid her down on the hearthrug before the little spinsters fire where she had sat, alone and lonely, for so many evenings, and loved her until it grew dark outside and only the firelight illuminated their enfolded bodies.
I do not have an aversion to you, he said.
At suppertime they rose from the floor, chilled and uncomfortable. I have some bread and cheese and a broth, Elizabeth said.
Whatever you have in the larder will do for me, John replied. Ill fetch some wood for the fire.
Ill run up the road to my mothers house and borrow a jug of beef stock, she said, pulling her gray gown on over her head. She turned her back to him and offered him the ties on her white apron. Ill only be a moment.
Give them my good wishes, John said. Ill call up and see them tomorrow.
We could go up to the house for supper, she suggested. They would be glad to see you tonight.
I have other plans for tonight, John said with a meaning smile. Elizabeth felt herself warm through with the intensity of her blush. Oh. She recovered herself. Ill get the beef stock then.
John nodded and listened to her quick step down the brick path and out into the main street. He stacked the fireplace with a liberal supply of logs and then went out through the backyard to the little field to see to his horse. When he came back Elizabeth was stirring a pot hung on a chain from the spit, and there was bread and new cheese on the table and two jugs of small ale.
I brought my book, she said carefully. I thought you might like us to look at it, together.
What book?
My lesson book, she said. My father taught me to read and write and I did my writing in this book. It has clean pages in it still. I thought, if you wished, I might teach you.
For a moment John was going to rebuff her; the idea of a wife teaching her husband anything was contrary to the laws of nature and of God; but she looked very sweet and very young. Her hair was tumbled and her cap was slightly askew. Lying on his cape on the floor of the little cottage she had been tender and ready to be pleased, and at the end, openly passionate. He found he did not feel much like supporting the laws of God and nature; instead he found that he was rather disposed to oblige her. Besides, it would be good to know how to read and write.
Dyou know how to write in French? he asked. And Latin words?
Yes, she said. Do you want to learn French?
I can speak French, and a bit of Italian, and enough German to see that my lord is not cheated when I am buying plants for him from a sea captain. And I know some plant names in Latin. But I never learned to write any of it down.
Her face was illuminated with her smile. I can teach you.
All right, he said. But you must tell no one.
Her gaze was open and honest. Of course not. It shall be between the two of us, as everything else will be.
That night they made love again in the warmth and comfort of the big bed. Elizabeth, free from her fear that he did not love her, and discovering a sensuality which she had not imagined, clung to him and wrapped her arms and legs around him and sobbed for pleasure. Then they wrapped their blankets around their shoulders and sat side by side on the bed and looked out at the deep blue of the night sky and the sharp whiteness of the thousands of stars.
The village was all quiet; not one light showed. The road away from the village, north to Gravesend and London, was empty and silent, ghostly in the starlight. An owl hooted, quartering the fields on silent wings. John reached for his waistcoat folded on the chest at the foot of the bed.
I have something I should like to give you, he said quietly. I think it is perhaps the most valuable thing I own. Perhaps you will think it foolish; but if you would like it, I should like to give it to you.
His hand closed over one of the precious chestnuts. If you do not like it I will keep it, by your leave, he said. It is not really mine to give away; it is entrusted to me.
Elizabeth lay back on the pillow, her hair spread as brown and as glossy as his chestnut. What is it? she asked, smiling. You sound like a child in the schoolyard.
It is precious to me
Then it is precious to me too, whatever it may be, she said.
He brought his clenched fist out of his waistcoat pocket and she put her hand out flat, waiting for him to open his fingers.
There are only six of these in the country, he said. Perhaps only six in the whole of Europe. I have five in my keeping and, if you like, you may have the sixth.
He dropped the heavy nut like a round smooth marble into her hand.
What is it?
It is a chestnut.
It is too big and too round!
A new chestnut. The man who sold it to me told me that it grows into a great tree, like our chestnut tree, but it flowers like a rose, the color of apple blossom. And this great nut comes only one to a pod, not two nuts to a pod like ours, and the pod is not prickly like our chestnuts but waxy and green with a few sharp spines. He sold it to my lord for nine pounds down, and another eighteen pounds if it grows. And I shall give this one to you.