Chapter 11

Her mother knocked an hour later, passion was all very well, but the populace expected to see their married ducal daughters dressed and happy too. She knocked again and walked in, and covered her eyes too late! She did not need to see her youngest child experiencing anal intrusion with quite the relish that she clearly did. Robert looked up and collapsed, Harriet looked up and simply said “Hello Mummy, Robert was making sure all my holes had been suitably stretched.”

“Harriet, you will never be a true lady. You are married to this common soldier – no offence meant.”

“None taken, duchess. Or do I call you Madeline now? What is the purpose of the call? I suspect it was not to make sure that she was properly impregnated? You checked that last night.”

“Harriet, you might take a stroll?”

“No, Mama! Firstly I am smelly and sweaty after being rogered every which way all night by this stallion of a man who made me do such things as would make you blush.” All this was something of an exaggeration, he had not been too bad for a first night with a virgin. But she aimed to embarrass her mother, and had the satisfaction of seeing her mother redden round her cheeks. “Secondly, we are married; my mother should not be having secret conversations with my husband.”

“I can hardly comment on the first, though it is true she needs a good wash. On the second, though, I do tend to agree. We should have no secrets.” Robert added.

“How very modern! If I had no secrets from MY husband, I would have told him the same detail that you told me Robert...” she left unsaid the obvious second part which was probably ‘and you would be mouldering in a grave by now’. “Very well. Oh, may I have some wine?

Thank you.

It concerns your sister, Sarah.” it seemed needless to name her, since Harriet had only one full sister. “She is reaching beyond marriageable desirability. With Michael in need of a limb, he may find it hard to find a mate also. I have an idea.”

“We are all ears, Mama. Are we not Robert?”

“Certainly I would wish to help in any way we can; though I fail to see yet how.”

“There is a young man of my acquaintance who might be a suitable match. He is two years younger than she, but that hardly signifies. He is handsome, good looking and of very good family – he is my sister’s son. Since she is wife to Duke Guillermo, it would be an interesting match across the water. Duke Guillermo holds estates in Denmark as well as Italy. He is thinking that splitting his inheritance between his old son (by his first wife) and his younger – by my sister Alfreda – might be a sensible division. Alfreda has always preferred the Danish estates, and so, I think has her son. Anontio, when I met him, seemed to personify Italian man in every fibre.”

“Anontio is your sister’s son?” Robert asked, getting a little confused.

“No, he is Petra’s boy. There was some doubt about his heritage; Petra was not known for keeping her legs closed. But the duke recognised him as legitimate successor so ... No, Petra died giving birth to her third daughter, I’m not sure the duke was too sorry since she had only produced one boy; but perhaps it was him. Alfreda has only produced one boy too, and then five girls. I understand the duke is unwilling to parcel up land for each of them; so they aren’t finding suitors knocking at his door.

But, back to the point. Alfreda’s boy, the duke’s second son, is called Maro. Silly name, but there we are. Anyway, he is, so Alfreda says, very personable. Very pleasant. And of course they are cousins so perhaps that would be nice.”

Both Harriet and Robert sensed that there was a ‘but’ that was being avoided; perhaps he had six fingers, or a hump, or ... Oh! Harriet guessed.

“The problem, dear mother? The reason why you wanted to speak to Robert alone? Come, out with it.”

“Ah, well. It transpires that his one ... flaw? The one aspect of his character that does not bode well is that he has the Priest’s Disease.” There, she had finally said it. The Priest’s Disease was a common affliction in the religious houses, one that was tolerated by some abbots, and simply hidden away by some bishops. Some priests had taken a vow of celibacy to mean that they should not engage with the opposite sex. Plenty did, of course, but these priests who partially kept their celibacy vows allowed themselves full rein with other priests, or novices, or choirboys. Like heterosexual males not in the priesthood, these priests had preferences that varied – young or old, large or small, invade or be invaded.

When a priest became too much of a nuisance, or preyed on too high-borne a boy, they were moved elsewhere. It was rare for one to be properly punished.

Harriet was becoming surer now; but she wasn’t going to say, in case she was mistaken.

“So, you see?” the duchess said, hoping it was all clear now.

“You wish me to talk to him?” Robert suggested. He was completely in the dark, still.

“No, you silly man!” like all high-borne people, the duchess had little patience with lower borne people when they could not divine the meaning of a foggy sentence. “If a talking-to was all that was required, I could do it, or the Duke. No! If she is to marry him; I say IF! She must bear fruit, it is plain you can fertilise well, so you can do it.”

“Mother! This is the morning of our wedding night, and you are already pimping my husband! I will not have it!” Harriet was not so shocked as she suggested, there were even rumours that the crown prince had been called upon to supply his sister to her wedding ready-made so to speak. Only rumours of course, if such was a fact it would result in an international incident (you can’t condemn a princess as easily as a common person for incest).

“My dear Harriet, you have been married to someone who has given you many and wonderful experiences. I could remind you that, had I told your father that this man had watched you having a shit, and indeed had then pumped that same hole whilst you were still only fourteen, you would not be in the position to be a widow if I tell him now. He has a position to think of, and having a daughter that craps for the amusement of others does not sit well with that position.

No offence, Master Robert.”

“None taken, again, umm Mistress Madeline?” no, that did not sound right, he’d work it out eventually. “Though the details you list are not quite accurate.”

“No doubt, but Our Good Mechanical Friends in the basement could clarify the facts, I am sure.” She meant the rack and other instruments of torture. “Perhaps we should move on? As I was saying, I could explain to my loving husband more of the detail of your sojourn in the woods, but I think it better for the health – Robert’s and yours, that I do not. Where was I? Oh yes, I hardly think, since he is already lined up to re-use the other ladies and they will be moving with you to your new estate where they will be used and abused by him, and I suspect you; yes, I hardly think that one more will make much difference. Oh except that you shall not have access, of course.” It would not do to have sisters committing incest. Not in this castle, anyway.

Harriet sank into silence, she was in a cleft stick of her own making. Make trouble and her husband might disappear and she would be back under the control of the duke, who would start looking for some marriage for her. She liked the man she was married to; not loved, but liked was good; and he certainly did provide much interest in bed. Maybe love would come. So far, at least, in an odd way he seemed likely to be faithful. That is to say she would always know who he was bedding aside from her, and she might get into bed with them too on occasions. So allowing her husband to sire her own sister seemed the only option.

She left the way she had arrived, largely silently. The duchess was a good foil for her husband. His approach was usually preceded by loud crashing of metalled boots on stone; and not infrequently he could leave with broken furniture or people in his wake. You could tell his mood by his stride, sensible people adapted their responses to that. The duchess was different, she seemed to almost float around the castle, she was so quiet. If the duke had Kator to organise his spies outside the realm, Duchess Madeline was more hands-on about her informants inside the castle. She knew precisely which maids had been too easy to invite to bed, she knew the ones who struggled and objected; since she liked her husband loyal to her, but happy, the first found they left soon or ended tending the pigs (she did not want some floozy usurping her), and the second discovered greater willingness after mild ill treatment – a small burn, a few stripes on their pretty behinds, the threat of shears on their nipples or genitals. It was a difficult path to tread, being attractive to the duke.