Who would let Roland make love to her?

Choices:
A. Nicolette
B. not enough information
C. Diane
D. Chinon
Nicolette
Roland felt his stomach knotting. Having ridden out of the city through the Saint-Denis Gate, he now was nearly home, and the hurt inside was cutting so deep that he thought it would drive him mad. He repeated again and again the pledge he had just made to Nicolette: I am your true troubadour, now and forever. It felt like a knife stabbing into him.
I do love her, as I have not loved any other - except Diane.
Under his fur-lined mantle he was sweating, despite the bone-deep chill of the January night.
Was my pledge to Nicolette a lie?
No, not now that Diane has vowed herself to God.
He had always believed that a man or a woman could love but one person. For all the years he had loved Diane, he had accepted that as a sacred law of Love. It was the way things should be. But it was not the way they were. Not for him.
What if I had known, that day I saw Nicolette at Chinon, that Diane was still alive? I would have wanted Nicolette just as much, but would not have begun this. There would have been no messages, no song in her garden. But I was sure Diane was dead. There was nothing but a memory of a younger time to check my feelings for Nicolette.
And then, when I found Diane again, I could not have her. I had lost her forever. So at last I wrote again to Nicolette.
But tonight, when Nicolette would have let me make love to her - and how I want her! - I could not go beyond an embrace and a kiss.
Not as long as I still love Diane.
When he had set out, a full moon had hung low above the huddled rooftops of the university town. Now the silver disk was high overhead, and he could discern the small house he had bought two years ago with money he brought with him from Sicily.