Dear friends, welcome once more to The Pig & Pipe, and the continuing adventures of the residents and visitors to the imaginary medieval village of Buernferd*. If you missed the opening episode try this link or search this site for Pig & Pipe.
“Nay. I’m not moon mad, or drunk or daft in anyway.” Stefan slowed their pace. It would not do to get to Linna home too quickly. He needed time to work up to what he wanted, needed to say.
“Then why in the world d’you want my company?”
“Because I like you.”
She snorted.
“Truly, I do like you.” They drew near the center of the village square where a large arbor stood. The village had no church–mostly from lack of money and no one with the skill or knowledge to build one–so services, and public events like baptisms and weddings were held in the shelter of the arbor whenever a friar or priest passed through on the way to Caerluel , the nearest large town.
When Linna and Stefan reached the far side of the arbor, where the remnants of a forest blocked any light from the sky, Stefan stopped. Since her hand was in his, Linna was forced to halt as well.
She tugged on her hand. “I need to be getting home. Betty will worry.”
No mention of old Fielding being worried about his eldest daughter out late in the night.
“I said I’d escort you home, and I will. First, I need you to listen to me.”
She huffed. “Very well, but get on with it. I’ll not spend the entire night out here with you. What would folk say?”
I hadn’t thought of that. I could sully her good name and probably get what I want, but I’d rather not.
“Well?” Her foot tapped a rapid beat on the dirt floor.
He needed time to find the right words. Words that would show the depth of his feelings for her and the fears that had kept him silent for so long. But those words would not come.
“Marry me,” he blurted at long last.
Her jaw dropped, and she stared.
He waited for the scathing storm of objections she would use to batter him. He knew she felt vulnerable and attack was her first choic of defense.
But she said nothing. She simply stared, her hand still in his, blinking like she’d had her face dashed with a bucket of water and was trying to clear her vision.
“Well?” Now it was his turn to be impatient.
“W…wh…why? Why in the world would you ask that of me, the town shrew, who never has a kind word for anyone or anything. You can’t mean it. Not really. And if this a joke of some kind, I’m afraid I don’t find it very funny.” She finally succeeded in taking her hand from his and promptly folded her arms beneath her breasts, as if warding him off. Then she leaned the slightest bit forward and gave him her most frightful glare.
It truly was a fearsome thing to see. He’d watched her use it to good effect on anyone she wished would leave her be. He should have been frightened for the retribution that glare promised, if he did not retreat, forgetting the idea of marriage altogether. But retreat would not get him the wife he wanted, and he wanted Linna. Linna with all her faults and flaws whom he knew had the kindest heart in all England. Though she’d never show it, to be sure. He understood all that. He understood this woman and wanted her more with every sunrise.
“I want to marry you. That’s why.”
“Hmpfh, simple wanting is not enough.”
It is and it isn’t he wished to tell her but knew she’d not listen to his innermost thoughts–not now at least. Someday she would.
“My wanting you isn’t simple at all. But there are other reasons to wed that have nothing to do with wanting.”
“Such as?”
“Safety. Yours and Betty’s.”
“What makes you think I’m not safe?”
“That bruise on your temple. It’s not the first bruise I’ve seen you carry. However, if I have any say, it will be the last.”
“I bumped into a door.”
“With a great deal of help from your father no doubt. You need to get away from him.”
“And where would I go? I’d have to take Betty with me. We’ve no money for traveling. But if we don’t’ go far enough, Da will just have the Caerluel sheriff on us and bring us back. Then he’ll beat us both worse than ever. At least now, he doesn’t beat Betty. I won’t let him.”
“No, you make it so he beats you instead.”
“You’d do the same to protect your brothers and sisters.”
“Aye, I would. But they don’t need that from me, and you do. You and Betty both.”
The glare had relaxed into a thoughtful narrowing of her eyelids.
“I can’t answer you now.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t. Accept that or accept that my answer is no.”
“If there’s a chance you’ll agree to wed, then I’ll wait for your answer. But I’ll not wait forever.”
She nodded, her gaze turned inward and pensive. Then her head came up and she fixed that now clear-eyed gaze with his. “One week. I’ll give you an answer in one week.”
“One week it is.”
He took her hand in his once more and strolled toward the cobbler’s shop on the far side of the square. The Fieldings lived in a few rooms above the shop. As they left the area near the arbor the trees thinned and faint moonlight lit their path. When they reached the outdoor stairs leading to Linna’s home they stopped, almost at the same moment.
“Goodnight, Miss Fielding.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Alwin. Thank you for your escort and your offer.”
“I was happy to do both.”
“Well then, I should be going in.” She swung their joined hands between them.
“Yes, you should. But…”
“But…?”
“Could I, Linna, sorry Miss Fielding, might I kiss you?”
A slow smile broke over her face. “I think I might like you to kiss me.”
He leaned forward. She rose on her toes.
In the moment just before their lips met, Linna wondered. Will his kiss be heaven or hell?
*A note about Buernferd village and its name. This imaginary medieval village is based on a small bit of research I’ve done into the history of the area around what is now Carlisle England. Buernferd sits on the edge of what was known as ‘the debateable lands–more about that in a future episode–and is located near a river ford several leagues below the point where the rivers Eden and Esk flow into the Solway Firth. As I imagine the settlement at this time, it had maybe fifty souls that claimed residence. Most were farmers or fishermen with a few craftsmen and women who’s shops made up most of the buildings near the square. Once a month a traveling friar comes to the village in the company of a Cistercian monk. The Friar would hold confession and see to the needs of the village souls. The monk’s primary purpose was to collect the tithes owed to the monestary that owned the land on which the village stands. Also the medieval name for the modern city of Carlisle was Caerluel (in one of it’s many spellings).
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