by Barb Hendee
Upon leaving the kitchen for the second time that morning, I headed off to see my bees.
The beehives resided in a lovely spot at the edge of a meadow out back of the log building that housed our guards. The meadow was alive with color at this time of year, with a variety of wildflowers, butterflies, and dragonflies. It was my favorite place in all the lodge.
Sometimes, I would bring my lunch and remain out here all afternoon.
Standing near the hives, I let the sound of buzzing soothe me. Something about the bees at their work always soothed me.
“Nicole,” called a voice from behind me.
Turning, I saw Christophe and my father walking toward me, but my father’s face was tense, and he stopped at the edge of the building that served as our barracks and let Christophe continue onward to where I stood. This morning, Christophe was dressed in black pants and boots and a simple wool shirt. He hadn’t shaved and a dark shadow covered his jaw.
He’d always liked my beehives and this meadow, and I normally welcomed his company here, but not this morning. Not after last night and with my father standing well away from us looking as if he held the world on his shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as soon as Christophe had closed the distance between us. “Why is Father angry with me and why is he standing back there alone?”
At first, I thought Christophe’s eyes were bleak, but then I looked at him more closely and thought perhaps he looked…desperate.
Motioning to the ground, he said, “Sit with me. I would speak with you.”
A wave of anxiety passed through me. There was something terribly wrong here, and I had no idea what it was. “Christophe?”
“Just sit. Please.”
Slowly, I sank down into the grass of the meadow and he sat down beside me. Twice, he began to speak and stopped, as if uncertain how to formulate the words.
“I went to see your father this morning,” he said finally, “to ask that he change one clause in the betrothal contract.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What? You’ll not refuse to send soldiers to protect our coastline? Christophe, you promised!”
Blinking, he shook his head. “No. It’s nothing like that. I would never—” He appeared unsettled by my fear. “You know I’m a man of honor. Why would you wonder about that?” After closing his eyes briefly, he opened them again. “I’ve asked your father to remove Chloe’s name from the contract and replace it with yours. That is the only change I wish to make.”
Had the ground behind him opened up and a flight of birds risen up from the hole, I could not have been more surprised or confused. I wasn’t even certain I’d heard him correctly.
“You’ve never visited Whale’s Keep and neither has Chloe,” he said, the desperation in his voice increasing. “The keep is on an island, too far out for a bridge. The only way on or off is by boat and for much of the year, the crossing is not comfortable. All the nobles at court speak of Whale’s Keep with such admiration, but few ever make a visit, and if they do, they rarely visit twice.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to—”
“There is no society there,” he rushed on. “There are no banquets with guests, no dancing, no noblewomen for tea, and my sister manages the household. We live apart from the world. What would Chloe do with her days? But you—you could be happy there. The ground is fertile and you could plant your gardens. I would build you beehives myself. I would build whatever type of henhouse you wished and paint it white with blue trim.”
He was in earnest.
I stared at him. “You would put Chloe aside?”
“Listen to me!” he said in anguish. “I should never have agreed to marry her, but I was drawn to the connection with your family. You have always seen me as a kind of brother and I never imagined that you might see me as a man, not until last night, not until you laughed while dancing with me and you held onto my arm and ate food from my hand.” He paused. “I have no wish to harm Chloe, but she would not be happy and in the years to come, she would blame me. In turn, I would blame her for a lack of love, and bitterness would grow between us. But you could be happy on the island…with me. Our bond would grow. We are suited for each other. Chloe and I are not suited.”
Though I’d thought myself a woman, perhaps until that moment much of me had still been a child, and his words were a revelation. I saw the truth in them. To me, if a man and a woman married, they would naturally care for each other and care for each other’s happiness—as my parents did. But the future Christophe painted for himself and Chloe could be all too true, as was the future he painted for himself and me.
“Oh, Christophe,” I whispered, for a lack anything else to say.
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I love you. I know Chloe is your sister and you are of the same blood, but I want to make my sons and my daughters with you.”
Bloodlines meant so much to him. This much I’d already known. To my shock, I began to imagine the life he envisioned for us, living on his island and raising our children quietly away from the rest of the world. I’d never planned to leave White Deer Lodge, but I cared for Christophe and I understood the things he was saying.
Was he right in this? Was his betrothal to Chloe a mistake for them both?
And yet…he had already signed a contract, and their betrothal was public knowledge.
“What does my father say?” I asked, looking back toward the barracks.
One look at my father’s face told me what he thought. Beneath his tension, he was frightened. If Christophe broke the betrothal with Chloe for any reason, she would be shamed. But we needed Christophe’s goodwill a great deal more than he needed ours. I suspected that were my father not in dire need of de Fiore soldiers, this conversation between Christophe and myself would not be taking place.
Christophe moved in front of me, in a crouched position, blocking my view. “I want to know what you say, not your father.”
“Let me talk to him. Please.”
For a moment, I thought he would not allow me to stand up and walk away, but then he rocked backward. “Talk to him, then.”
Quickly, I rose and closed the distance between my father and myself. Christophe followed.
“He’s told you, then,” Father said immediately. It was not a question.
Again, we both knew there was a great deal at stake here, but my thoughts were for my sister. “What will become of Chloe if I accept Christophe’s proposal?” I asked.
“If he puts her aside for you, there will be gossip,” he answered. “In the eyes of the world, she is a better choice and he has already signed a contract. If he alters the contract now in favor of you, the nobles will believe she is damaged somehow. She will never make a great match. She will be seen as flawed.”
This had been my suspicion, but I’d needed him to confirm it. In my mind, I continued picturing the life Christophe had painted for himself and me, and I was in near-disbelief by how much I was drawn both to him and to what he offered. I’d never seen him as more than a beloved potential brother. Now, I realized he was a great deal more, or he could be more.
But he was pledged to my sister and I’d never do anything to harm her. Though she might not be happy at Whale’s Keep, she would be the lady of a great house and she would be respected. Chloe was proud and to her, respect was more important than happiness.
And yet, I had no wish to hurt Christophe either. I cared for him.
This was awful.
Turning, I looked up into his face, focusing first on his shadowed jaw and then his gray eyes. “You know I can’t accept you at the expense of Chloe’s good name.”
My father exhaled in relief.
But Christophe’s features shifted to panic.
“Nicole!” he said. “You’re not thinking clearly. This is our only chance. If you refuse me now, we will both end
up living the wrong lives.”
His words were like blades and my throat began to close in fear that he was right.
“You heard her,” my father cut in angrily. “I agreed to let you ask her, and you have your answer. Now I need to know if you intend to live up to the contract you signed. My lady has planned the wedding for the end of this month. Will your honor our agreement?”
Christophe stepped backward in defeat. “I am a man of my word. You know I’ll honor our agreement.”
“Good,” my father said, breathing raggedly. “Whether you believe me or not, I do understand your reasons for proposing this change. Remember, when I was younger than you, I married a girl much like Nicole.” He paused. “But I promise that Chloe will make a fine lady of Whale’s Keep, and your blood mixed with hers will continue a strong de Fiore line.”
Christophe wouldn’t look at him, but nodded and turned away. “I’ll be leaving within the hour. I’ll return at the end of the month.”
He walked away.
I stood in silence for a few long moments, trying to process all that had just happened. “Father, are you angry with me?”
“Angry? Why would I be angry?”
“I don’t know. I just can’t help feeling that I’ve done something wrong.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve worried this was a tenuous match between him and your sister since I signed the agreement. But it is a good match, and our people must have the protection of de Fiore’s troops.” He patted my back. “I knew you would think only of your sister, but I did fear that if you refused him, he might break the agreement.”
“He’d never have done that.”
“Perhaps not.” My father’s expression grew intense again. “No one can ever know what happened this morning, not your mother, not Erik, and certainly not Chloe. Can you be silent?”
His question offended me. “Of course I can. What do you take me for? I understand a good deal more than you think. I turn eighteen years old this coming winter and I am a woman.”
He sighed. “Forgive me. Much as it pains me, you are a woman, and now you and I share a secret.”
Yes, we did share a secret, one I would keep.
“You’ve not had breakfast, have you?” I asked. “Come to the kitchen, and Louise will make you some eggs.”
* * * *
I tried to put Christophe’s anguished words from my mind, and my own emotions confused me.
I pitied him.
I was angry with him.
As he was a longtime friend of my family—and engaged to marry my sister—it would never have occurred to me to view him as anything else. But now, after his pleading and his vision of what our future might have been, I could think of little else. Why had he done this to me? Surely, he could not have expected me to ruin Chloe’s prospects by agreeing to his proposal. He indeed must have been desperate.
That thought only made me feel worse and my anger turned back to pity. I hoped he would be proven wrong and that he and Chloe could find happiness together, or at least some mutual contentment.
Two days after Christophe’s attempt to alter the path of my life, I launched into helping the women servants of our household with our typical weekly laundry day. My mother always oversaw this event, but I liked to help as well.
Young Jenny was indispensable to us. She served as my personal maid on occasion, helping me dress and doing my hair—when such a need arose. But she served as Chloe’s maid more often and she helped to keep our closets arranged.
Today, she was helping to wash clothing in large tubs.
Looking at the pile of evening gowns from the night of the banquet, she frowned. “Lady Nicole, I see the lavender gown you wore, but I don’t see Miss Chloe’s green silk. Might another of the maids have simply hung it back up? I do think it was in need of a cleaning.”
Indeed it was in need of a cleaning. Poor Chloe had been so sick after the dance.
Quickly, I went through the pile. “You’re right. It’s not here. Let me run to her room and I’ll see if it’s in her closet.”
Leaving the laundry room, I trotted out the back door and up the connecting path to a three-story building that served as our main residence. Walking through a side door, I turned left down a passage and made my way to the rooms I shared with Chloe. She never minded me searching through her closest, and of course I would never have minded her searching through mine.
Hers, however, was much larger, almost a small room to itself, so upon entering her bedroom, I walked past the bed and dressing table, and through another door into her closet. Countless gowns hung there and most of them were either a shade of green or amber.
I began searching for her emerald green silk.
Only a few moments later, I heard the door to her bedroom open, followed by the sound of her voice.
“There is nowhere else safe to talk,” she said. “Hurry inside and close the door.”
“You take too much risk,” a male voice answered. “You know what would happen if a servant walked in.”
I froze. I knew the voice. It belonged to Julian Belledini. What was she thinking? Men were not allowed in our rooms. Even Erik stood in the doorway if he came to seek one of us for some reason.
“The servants are all busy doing laundry with Mother and we must talk. Besides…in a few moments, any worry of being caught in an indiscretion won’t matter,” Chloe said. Her voice sounded strained. I’d rarely heard her use any tone that wasn’t calm and serene.
Julian’s voice was agitated. “My love. What could you mean?”
His love? I held a breath. I should not be hearing this.
A pause followed and then Chloe said, “I’m with child.”
“What?” He sounded horrified. “How could this have happened? We’ve been so careful. I’ve never spent myself while still inside you.”
I could feel my face flushing red, and in spite of my shame at overhearing this private conversation, I moved up behind the open door of the closet to peer through the crack into the bedroom. Chloe was beautiful and pale, but she appeared stunned by his reaction.
“You are not pleased?” she asked. “Don’t you see what this means? If we tell my father, he’ll have no choice but to break my betrothal to Christophe. We can be married.”
From where I stood, I watched emotions playing across Julian’s face: fear, shock, and great disappointment.
Then his voice altered to a softer note, and he moved closer to grasp her hand.
“No, my love. We cannot tell your father. If we do, he will shame us both. Even if he did break your betrothal and allow you to marry me, what would your dowry be now? Nothing. You and I would be left with nothing, and how fair would that be to our child?”
She gasped. “What are you saying? You won’t claim the child as your own? What of all our plans?”
He touched her face. “Our plans are lost. We cannot let your father know that we have…been together.”
“Then we won’t tell him I’m with child. We’ll simply go now and tell him that we are in love and beg him to allow us to marry. He is not unkind. He may agree.”
“And then what? Even if we asked his permission for an honorable marriage, it will take him time to break the contract with Lord Christophe. Compensations would have to be made. Then, your parents would wish a decent amount of time before our wedding, and by then, you would be showing. The truth would be known. Again, your father would shame us and leave us with nothing. Is this what you want for our child? To grow up in poverty?”
Reeling from the scene playing out before, I tried to get my head around the fact that Chloe had shared her body with Julian and had hoped to marry him. But other realities fought to the forefront of my mind as I watched the bitter disappointment in Julian’s face. In spite of his words of concern for the welfare of the child, he had the look of a trapped fox. He
had wanted to marry Chloe, but he also wanted my father’s blessing and a large dowry.
He was certainly right that if my father learned Chloe was with child, he would most likely force a marriage and not give Julian one copper penny in wealth or lands. There would be no thousand acres of prime timberland for him. No yearly stipend.
Julian would have nothing but Chloe and the child.
And it seemed that now he wanted neither.
“Then what I am to do?” she asked.
He grasped both her hands. “For the sake of yourself and our child, you must go ahead with the marriage to Lord Christophe. That is the only way I see to protect your futures.”
“No!” she cried. “You love me as I love you. What does it matter if we have no wealth? Your family would allow us to live with them. We would have each other.”
“You say that now,” he answered. “But soon, it would not be enough for you and it would not be enough for me.”
She jerked her hands from his. “You liar. You made me believe you wanted to spend your life with me.”
He stepped away from her. “And I did. I do. But not like this. Marry Lord Christophe. You have no choice now. In three years’ time, you’ll thank me.”
Turning, he walked out of the room.
Chloe put both hands to her mouth to stifle a sob and I fought the urge to run to her. I could not let her know what I’d just overheard. Tears flowed down her face as she continued attempting to stifle sobs. The sight and sound was heartbreaking, but I remained in the closet.
Then a knock sounded on the door. “Lady Chloe?”
I knew the voice. It was Matilda, one of our kitchen maids.
“Please don’t enter,” Chloe managed to call back. “What do you need?”
“Cook asked me to come fetch you. She’s wondering about changing tonight’s dinner menu, and your mother is overseeing the laundry.”
“I’ll come directly,” Chloe answered.
The sound of footsteps trotting away followed. Chloe took several breaths and wiped her face. She put her hands to her stomach. Then with effort, she forced her face back into its normal serene expression, and she left the room.