Naomi looked to where Caspian indicated and shivered slightly. A new type of anxiety came over her as she tried to recall to mind all the advice Mayra had gleaned from her trusted sources.
Suddenly unable to speak, she just nodded at her husband and walked as bravely as she could to the bedroom. He did not follow, and she was grateful for a moment alone.
A white washbasin filled with water was on a wooden chest, and she spotted her bag next to it. Taking surreptitious glances at the doorway, she quickly washed herself and slipped into her nightdress. Still feeling vulnerable and uncovered, she got into the bed and covered herself in the blanket that lay on it.
She scooted as far from the edge as she could, toward the wall on the far side. She swallowed nervously and waited. She couldn't tell how much time passed. Maybe it was merely minutes, perhaps much longer.
The last light of the sun was long gone, and she was beginning to feel the fatigue of her journey despite the anxious energy of anticipating her husband's arrival. She laid her head back on a pillow. It did feel incredibly nice here instead of trying to sleep on the ground or in the wagon.
_______
Caspian waited until he was sure she was asleep before going in to bed. He considered sleeping in the main room on the floor, but that would be far less comfortable. He couldn't set up a pallet out there or a visitor in the future might notice if he got careless and failed to put it away.
So, he crept in quietly to the sound of her deep and even breathing, and carefully prepared himself for bed. He felt ridiculous sneaking inside his own home that he'd built, but it would be easier if she fell asleep first instead of just ignoring her.
It made her less likely to question him about it in the morning. Hopefully he would be able to go away to sea before she worked up the courage to ask him why he did not take up his marital rights. He could hope. She seemed to pretend to be more assertive than she actually was.
Maybe she would even be happy with the arrangement. Many of the rougher sailors he knew would make crude jokes about their wives' reluctance in this area. If the conversation never needed to be had, all the better.
He glanced at his sleeping wife before crawling into bed. She was curled up on her side, shivering slightly. He frowned. She was more likely to wake up if she got too cold. He retrieved an extra blanket and carefully placed it over her.
Slowly, she relaxed a little, and mumbled a thank you. He was afraid he'd woken her, but she didn't appear to have roused at all. Odd. Did she talk in her sleep?
He got into bed and lay facing away from her. It took him a long time to fall asleep that way, holding himself rigidly. Normally he tossed and turned all across his bed as his mind unwound. To hold still and avoid waking someone else was unfamiliar.
He resented it, a little, but also knew it was his partially of his own making. If he were settling into a real marriage, he wouldn't have to consider whether or not his sleeping habits would wake his wife. Admitting to himself that his reluctance to do so was at least halfway due to childish retribution to his parents' forcing him into this, he nonetheless had stubbornly chosen his path now.
______
Naomi woke slowly to the unfamiliar atmosphere. The pillow's smell was different than she was used to and she dragged her eyelids open in the early light and saw someone beside her in the bed.
A wave of panic washed over her. She was married! This was her husband! What had--
She scanned her memory of the night before but came up empty. The last thing she remembered--had she fallen asleep?? How mortifying!
She looked around frantically and discovered the extra blanket on top of her. She blushed deeper in shame. He hadn't bothered to wake her--and instead of being angry about his denial of a wedding night, he had covered her with a blanket!
She had apparently married an extremely considerate man. She scooted out from under the covers and off the end of the bed without waking him, and grabbed some clothes to get dressed in the main room.
That done, she decided to get the day started by cooking breakfast for her overly kind husband. What had Cora said? Breakfast is a meal of fish and vegetables?
Naomi had gotten lucky that Caspian had brought her the same creatures she'd cooked with Mrs. Sherman for the wedding meal. She had no idea how to cook fish. Mayra might, or Cora, but she didn't know if they would be up and available for a lesson just now.
She also thought people might give the newlywed hut a wide berth for privacy's sake. She searched through the great room for whatever ingredients she could find. There was some salted fish, and not much else.
Biting her lip, she remembered that a temporary hut had been constructed not too far away for Mayra to stay in. After she'd finished cooking her wedding meal, she had been allowed to go there and clean up before the ceremony.
Ducking quietly outside, she made her way there and thankfully found her friend already awake.
"Naomi!" Mayra cried, hugging her, "I didn't think you would be up so early."
The bride blushed crimson in embarrassment, unwilling to admit she'd fallen asleep early. Mayra's eyebrows rose, clearly misinterpreting the blush but graciously changing the topic.
"How can I help you? You look like you're searching for something."
"I want to make breakfast before he wakes up, but there's only fish and I don't know how to cook it!" Naomi fretted.
"Oh, um... Here you go! It's what I was about to make, but I can scrounge up something else." Mayra gestured to the ingredients for porridge.
"Thank you. Cora also mentioned that Caspian had animals. I know how to handle chickens, but we didn't have anything larger like cows." Naomi had helped with the Rhone sheep and goats to get milk from them. Perhaps milking a cow was much the same.
"Do you need help?" Mayra asked. Naomi knew the younger woman was experienced at all facets of farm life.
"I... think I can do it. At least, I'd like to try." She felt the urge to hurry. The sun was getting ready for its climb into the sky and she wanted desperately to have a meal ready for her husband when he woke.
She ran back to the hut, and found a pen and barn-like structure behind it that she hadn't seen the evening before. She found the chickens' roosts easily. Finding a bin of chicken feed, she scattered it in their little area and gathered a few eggs.
Next to the barn, a cow lowed at her, reminding her of the goats she used to tend. The things were desperate to be milked when their udders were overfull. She found a clean bucket that must be for milking.
"Shhhhhhh," She said, patting the heifer on the side. "Do you give milk?" She asked. The cow blinked at her with large eyes and gave a low sound that startled the woman.
"What a voice you have!" Naomi talked to her. Thankfully, her milking skills did translate well, and soon she had a little milk to enrich the porridge and to drink. Patting the animal again, she rushed off to stoke the the cookfire and made use of her culinary skills. She would try to tend the rest of the animals after breakfast.
She quickly procured a breakfast of porridge with milk, and scrambled eggs that she seasoned using spices from Caspian's cupboard in the main room. Finally finished and satisfied with her efforts, she brought everything inside and set the table for two.
The only apron she'd brought with her from home was ragged around the edges, so she took it off and smoothed her dress underneath.
She began to hear movement in the bedroom and stiffened. She had no idea how to do this part of marriage. At least she didn't wake up staring into his face or anything. This was better by far, having time to compose herself and cook something.
Or would he be angry that she'd snuck out of bed before he woke up? Perhaps he had intended to take his husbandly privileges this morning instead of last night!
Her face burned and she pressed her cool hands against her cheeks to banish the color. This would not do at all!
She closed her eyes, willed herself to have courage, and stood next to the table facing the bedroom to await her husband's appearance. She didn't have to stand there for long.
After a minute or two, the door to the bedroom swung open, and her gruff and disheveled-looking husband shuffled out, bleary-eyed. She smiled broadly at him, but hesitated to speak first. She knew from experience that some people hated being spoken to first thing in the morning.
He closed his eyes hard and ran a hand over his face, then stared at her.
"I guess all that wasn't a bad dream."