Tilly raised a wet rag to Eleanor’s forehead and dabbed gently. Slowly, she moved to the arms. “Tell me if it hurts,” she whispered with unhappiness.
Eleanor sat on her bed in a thin chemise. Her flaxen hair was scooped into a pile atop her head with a few fine strands spilling out. Every few moments, she dragged her palms across her cheeks to wipe away the tears. She tucked her knees in close to her chest. “He’s the worst sort of man.”
From her shoulders to the bottom of her arms and across her stomach to her ankles, she was covered in bruises. The bruises ranged from dark purple splotches to blue mounds of irritation. There was no doubt that whoever did this to her, used more force in one arm than Eleanor could ever possess in all her body.
“Who?”
“Lord Roland. And there’s nothing in Christendom I can do about. God ordains my life’s fatal destiny. Is it God’s work that I be punished for loving Clement with Lord Roland? Have I sinned too much?”
Tilly pulled the sleeves of Eleanor’s chemise back onto her shoulders. Then Tilly hitched the hem up to Eleanor’s knees. With a look of melancholy at the sight of bruises so far down, Tilly began washing. “Oh no, My Lady, you are too good.”
Eleanor tore herself away from Tilly’s comforting pats. “I’m not. Tell me the truth, Tilly. Is God punishing me?” Eleanor did not mention that she made love to Clement; the pain of her sin was too much.
Tilly sighed. “Maybe for your tanner, he is.”
The day of Eleanor’s wedding came quickly. She made the six days journey north to Ashbourne with low emotions and arrived the eve of her wedding. Having grown up in Winshire Castle, she was used to the grand life that came with living in a large Earldom and was deeply saddened when she learned her new home was to be a comfortably home in a medium size city.
Eleanor had been sick every morning for the past few weeks. Although eating very little and nauseated, her waist thickened and her breasts were tender. She was stricken with fatigue even after a long sleep and food. Her mood was temperamental and everything from the slight change of the sun’s position angered her.
Tilly braided Eleanor’s long hair and twisted it into a bun. Covering the bun with a golden veil, she smiled sweetly. “You look so much like your mother.”
Eleanor scuffed. “God save me then. She was a wicked woman.”
Tilly crossed herself, looking towards the sky. “You shouldn’t say such things, my Lady.”
“Why does it matter? I’m damned to Hell anyway.”
Eleanor stormed out of the room.
YOU ARE READING
Ordained by God
Historical Fiction(DON'T BE PUT OFF BY THE TITLE IT'S NOT A RELIGIOUS BOOK) During the reign of William the Conqueror, women were subordinate to men in all social situations and love was not a reason a Lady to wed. Lady Eleanor of Winshire has falled in love with Cle...
