The chapel is mercifully more impressive upon internal inspection than it appeared from outside. The walls are plastered in smoothed mud and painted with colourful frescoes that cast a suitably reverent mood for the undertaking I have in mind. The altar is adorned with a red damask covering, and gold candlesticks perch at either end though the candles are unlit. The font is small, embedded into the wall. Rows of rough wooden benches serve as seating, and from the numbers supplied it would appear the chapel is well used, though we are the only occupants now.
“Approach the dwellings close by, find out the whereabouts of the priest, and have him attend us here.” I send one of my guards to do my bidding whilst Karl moves about the small church lighting candles. The flickering glow creates an illusion of warmth in the place, though barely.
I cast a glance at Natalia. She is white-faced, and looks nervous, though not inordinately so. I suppose it is her right; this is her wedding day after all.
“Would you like to sit for a while, Tally? We must wait for the priest to arrive.”
She obeys me in silence, her shoulders drooping beneath her voluminous cloak. I find her apparent dejection to be a sight I do not care for. Apart from the potential impact on my prospects for domestic contentment, her mood puzzles me. I spanked her, true enough, but the pleasure I gave her afterwards amply made up for the discomfort and indignity.
In truth, I was gentle with her. I know she enjoyed my touch, responded to it with a passion and fervour I could not have dreamed of. To the best of my knowledge she had no prospects at Hohenzollern apart from those afforded by her connection to the royal house. Any such expectations are gone now, the princess is taken prisoner, Hohenzollern destroyed. She should be jumping with joy at the opportunities and security offered her by this marriage. Certainly, it is an improvement on the life of poverty, prayer, and perpetual toil that would likely have been hers had she entered a convent.
I seat myself alongside her and stretch my arm across her shoulders. She begins to stiffen, would have turned from me but I firm my grip and pull her around to face me. Her eyes are downcast, but I catch the glitter of moisture on her lashes.
“Why the tears, my lady? I have sworn to be a good husband to you, and asked nothing from you in return save honesty and obedience. This is not such a bad bargain, is it?”
She does not answer me, though I see her lips working. I have the unhappy suspicion she is fighting back sobs. I cup her chin with my hand and lift her face.
God’s blood, even so woebegone she is lovely.
“Is it, Tally?”
“What, sir? Is what?”
“This, marrying me. Is it such a bad bargain?”
“No, my lord. It is not, but…”
“But?”
“What will happen to me, my lord? If I refuse to marry you?”
“You cannot refuse. You already tried that as I recall, but look, here we are, in a church, awaiting the arrival of the padre.”
“If I did not say the words though, what will happen?”
I draw in a long breath, considering my response with care. If she was a virgin maybe, in love with another perhaps, I might relent. A forced marriage would ultimately benefit no one. She is no innocent, I know that, and her arousal by the spanking I delivered suggests that while she may not fully appreciate it yet, her natural desires are not incompatible with mine. It also makes a mockery of her assertions regarding taking the veil. She would simply wither away in a convent.
“Is there someone else, another man perhaps?” Unlikely, but I have to ask.
She shakes her head, her denial vehement. “No, no, of course not. I told you my reasons. I am… I was to be a nun.”
“You were, perhaps, but no more. You are to be a duchess. And in answer to your question, if you do not give the proper responses you will accompany me into yonder vestry where you will bend over and lift your skirts. I will remove my belt and apply it to your delightful bottom until such time as you inform me that you have reconsidered and are ready to attempt the ceremony again.”
“You would beat me? Here, in a house of God?”
“Beat you? No, I would never beat you as you put it. But I will spank you if need be, and I will use whatever implement I deem most effective and appropriate. Iwillspank you here, and I trust in the lord to sympathise with my dilemma. You owe me your obedience, and I will have it.”
“Not yet. I owe you nothing until I do become your wife in a true ceremony. Your property.”
“A moot point, my lady. I beg of you, do not push me on this as you will not win.”
A rattle of the outer door at the end of the knave heralds the arrival of the guard I dispatched to find the priest. He is accompanied by the padre himself, rushing toward us in a flurry of brown robes.
“Your grace, my apologies that I was not here to greet you. I was busy about the lord’s work, attending to the needy among my flock. I have many responsibilities, you understand…” The priest comes to a halt before me, his visage lit by a willing, and I suspect optimistic, smile. Without doubt he views myunexpected visit as an opportunity to enrich his ecclesiastical coffers. He is probably correct in that assumption, I am prepared to pay handsomely for a speedy resolution to my current state of uncertainty. The sooner Lady Natalia’s station is elevated to that of duchess of Richtenholst, the sooner we can all move on.
“Indeed, and I apologise for the disturbance. I have need of your services, father…?”
“Father Paul, my lord. And I have the honour of addressing the duke of Richtenholst, I understand?”
