So, Andrew had stayed. He had carried Elizabeth to his garderobe to piss, he had washed her face and hands, he had fed her, combed her hair, spooned her soups and medicines, and painted her face with unctions. He had assured her that her brother would die should he ever attack her again.
‘Again?’ sneered Elizabeth. ‘Would be the death of me, too. How much of a face could the bastard leave me a second time?’
‘No woman dies of disfigurement.’
‘Call it plain don’t you, you shit. No compliments, please!’
‘I have compliments to offer, being the simple truth. That you’re strong, and courageous, and you’re as much my Lizzie as you always were.’
But he did not suggest removing Elizabeth to his own bed, nor sleeping the nights in her bed beside her. He slept very little at all. Each morning he was crouched, there relighting the fire as she woke, well before dawn touched the long windows or any other soul appeared to greet the day. He would say, ‘Still alive, I see, Elizabeth. Welcome back to hope and health.’
Now he said, ‘I won’t pretend your disabilities are less than the truth, nor create a subterfuge. The welts and bruises on your body are incidental, even though they make it difficult for you to walk. It’s your face that supports the greatest penalty. Now when you first look in the mirror you’ll be already prepared, and not shocked by the unexpected. But the woman you are hasn’t altered. Your brother didn’t make you bitter, for you were that already. And he hasn’t touched the heart of you, the strength of you, nor the loyalty and generosity of you. Nor has he altered my feelings for you. I care, as I’ve always cared. My affection was never influenced by your looks. You know that.’
‘No. Since the bitch you do want is beautiful. And you’ll be thinking her fucking beautiful inside, too, I reckon, since she’s never had to work the streets. This makes the comparison complete. So, why bother with me now? Pity? Nothing more than fucking pity?’
‘Would you think it kinder not to pity you?’ Andrew smiled. ‘What happened was not of your making. Injustice and misery, even of strangers, touches me. But you’ve long been a friend, Lizzie. Tyballis hasn’t taken your place. The place she now occupies is a new one. An unexpected one. And as with you, so my feelings are not influenced by her looks.’ He sighed, and slowly stood. ‘Now I shall call Ralph to build up the fire. You chose David or Nat, but I choose Ralph to care for you in my absence, and my choice carries.’
‘I want Davey.’
‘You will have Ralph,’ Drew said, and crossed slowly to the stairs.
He went first to the chamber Nat and Ralph shared. He then walked the rest of the dark corridor to the last room, which stood directly over his own. He pushed the door ajar and strode in.
‘Busy, my love?’
He saw she was not. Tyballis was leaning on the windowsill, looking out across the last streams of daylight catching the tips of the shrubbery. She had been mending the rips in her one gown, so wore only her shift. She turned in a flurry, crossing her arms carefully over her breasts. ‘What? Not bad news? How is she?’
Andrew shook his head. ‘I came for you, child, not on Elizabeth’s account. You believe I’d abandon you so easily?’
‘I didn’t think about it. I didn’t care. You were busy,’ she lied, looking away. ‘I expect Elizabeth still needs you. It has nothing to do with me, does it? Perhaps – whether you want to or just because you ought to – you should stay with her now.’
‘Jealous? You too, my love? Davey is the one who has women fighting over him. For me this is quite new. And not entirely welcome.’ His smile widened. ‘Come here, little one.’
‘I’m not –’ she said, but found herself pushed hard back against the window, the sill against her thighs. Her protective arms were forced aside and Andrew’s hands were on her body, his face bent close to hers.
His voice was hot breath in her eyes. ‘Only five days absent, my love, to give assurance and practical help. And during those five days I saw you each and every one, and watched you, and wanted you. Should I have explained, and asked if you minded? Should I have asked you to wait? Now I want you. Should I ask for that, too?’
She had lost her knees. ‘What is wrong with asking?’
‘Nothing. But I never learned the habit.’
He kissed her mouth first, then her breasts. Leaning down, he grasped her shift with both hands and pulled it up so it crumpled around her waist as he pressed his fingers between her legs, pushing them apart. Finding her voice, though unsteadily, she mumbled into his neck, ‘I’m not – and it isn’t –’ but she no longer pushed him away and her fingers curled around his shoulders.
‘I can tell you’re not ready, and it isn’t – what? Courtly? But I’m neither chivalrous nor courteous.’ Andrew grinned, still delving, his lips brushing across her body. ‘I’m a common man, my love, and had no lordly father to teach me manners. But it’s almost six days I’ve been dreaming about you, and desiring every part of you, and wanting your company most of all. Now I want inside you. I want you naked in my arms and your breasts hard against me, but I’ve no time to undress myself. So, I’ll ask, after all. Will you take me as I am?’
Her arms were already tight around him, fingers crawling his hair and inside the back of his collar. She murmured, ‘You are courteous, and you act the lord so well, all the lords believe in you. And you are chivalrous. You have been – so kind – to Elizabeth – these five days and more.’
‘Don’t talk to me about Elizabeth. Just tell me if you want me.’ He was kissing her again, his mouth so hard on hers she could not answer him. Instead, pressing against him, she kissed him back. Then his arm swept beneath her knees and he lifted and carried her, half-tangled within her own chemise, and took her to her bed. He laid her there and tugged the linen from her body, then lay beside her, watching her. ‘What, simple compliance? No objections, no protestations? Nor agreement, nor permission? Neither welcoming nor compliant? Are you so submissive? And am I free then, to bully and use, taking without thought for anything except my own urgency and greed?’ He was laughing at her and the day’s sinking scarlet lights, flooding into the chamber, lit his eyes.
‘Isn’t that what you want?’ she said, breathless.
‘No. Oh, sometimes perhaps. When wanting you hurts. Why suffer pain, when there’s a chance of pleasure?’
She was able to say, while going pink with delight, ‘You don’t talk, I mean not usually. You’re so reticent, and soft-spoken. Quiet-voiced. Almost menacing. But when it’s like this – in bed – you talk and talk – and talk.’
He grinned, his hands gently tracing the lines of her ribs down to the soft curve of her belly. ‘Would silence be more respectful? But I like to talk love while making love. There’s so much more to talk about. When you’re naked, I adore seeing the blue veins up your arms. They snake and wind, so pale, almost luminous like the sky just after dawn. And your flesh is milky velvet, with a sheen like brushed sarsenet. Your wrists are tiny wingless birds, and your ankles as delicate as moths caught by moonlight.’
Tyballis gazed at him in wonder. ‘I never expected you to say things like that,’ she whispered. ‘I never knew you thought things like that.’
He kissed her eyes, the tip of his tongue across her lashes. ‘You know little of me yet, my love,’ he said. ‘I am not unselfish but it is a very long time since I considered my own happiness as paramount. I can be as self absorbed as any man, and often more. But until now, I held nothing worth the loss of it, nor objected to the uncomprehending sense of melancholy that for so long has permanently threaded my days to my nights.’