Bound to Be a Groom Read Free Page A

that her physical desire was part of a childish infatuation or sinful temptation, a brief flare of unfamiliar lust that would pass soon enough.
    But it hadn’t passed. It had grown.
    So, when she began to suspect that Pia felt the same way, there was nothing for it. Anna finally decided to declare her feelings one warm afternoon in September, when the two of them were sent to the surrounding forest to collect some late-summer herbs that would be dried during the long winter. Pia appeared serious and thoughtful as always, but Anna’s heart thudded wildly, emboldened by their exceptional solitude. The novices were rarely granted times to speak privately, so Anna saw it as an opportunity to dash her foolish hopes. Perhaps she had imagined Pia’s answering gazes, and Pia would put an end to her madness once and for all.
    “Do you look forward to spending your life in the convent, Pia?” Anna tried to sound casual as she bent to snip an herb.
    Pia turned her head slightly. “I never think about it one way or another. It will be my life whether I look forward to it or not.”
    Her moderate, equable nature was something Anna had come to love about Pia because it was the shell she wanted to break apart, to see what roiled beneath.
    Choosing her words carefully, Anna said, “I think about it.” I think about taking you away with me.
    Bending to pick a stalk of malva, Pia spoke without looking up. “As well you should. That is your future, is it not? To be a lady-in-waiting at court next year?”
    Anna couldn’t look away from the turn of Pia’s long back and strong shoulders. She could stare at her for hours. She was desperate to touch her. Her breath caught in her throat.
    “Anna?” Pia was standing in front of her by then, stepping closer.
    “Yes?” She licked her lips in the one nervous gesture she’d never been able to conquer.
    Pia looked at her mouth for a split second. “Are you unwell?”
    “I don’t know . . .” Anna whispered, her heart pounding.
    “What is it?” Pia’s voice had softened to a near whisper, as well.
    Anna gathered all her courage. “I believe I’m in love with you.”
    Pia didn’t gasp or step back, as Anna had half hoped she would. They stood like that in the dappled glade—staring at one another—until the autumn noises of the forest were like clanging cymbals all around them. Insects skittered and dried leaves crackled into the air. An acorn falling might as well have been a hundred-year-old oak crashing to the earth for how the small sound resonated.
    Finally, after what felt like an entire rotation of the moon, Pia’s eyes blinked slowly, then drifted shut. The sparsely filled basket slid out of her weak hold. “Touch me,” Pia pleaded. “I beg you.”
    That was all the encouragement Anna needed. Within seconds, she had pinned Pia against one of the large oak trees. After so many months of wondering and hoping, the reality of Pia’s lips and skin and hair threw Anna into a sort of frenzy. Kissing her lips and then along the strong turn of her ivory neck, nipping at her ear, Anna reveled in the physical reality of Pia in her arms. The smell of her—a mixture of fresh autumn air and spices from the convent kitchen where Pia had baked bread that morning. The sound of her—a loving compilation of supplication and devotion.
    Anna began removing Pia’s clothes without asking permission, pulling desperately at her tightly wound coil of hair. The more Anna pushed, the more Pia bent. As if they were both perfectly attuned to the moment and its meaning: that they were both discovering their true natures. Pia was made to soften and sway into Anna’s controlling, greedy hands.
    “You are so beautiful, Pia, so strong and wise,” Anna gasped between kisses and fumbling fingers. “I watch you all the time, how you manage everyone without flouting the abbess’s authority.” Her lips trailed down Pia’s neck. “I’ve seen your lovely drawings and your modesty about them.