A Choice of Secrets

by Barb Hendee

  But when Erik looked up, his anger returned. “You tried to deceive Christophe. You tried to convince him the child was his own. You must be punished.”

  “Don’t play judge with me,” Chloe returned. “Had Father known the truth, he might have stopped the wedding, but you’d have carried me to that magistrate yourself and taken my vows for me.” Once again, she turned on our father. “And you! You knew I didn’t want that marriage, and you traded me to Christophe for two hundred soldiers. How dare you let Erik speak of punishment? I have suffered enough.”

  To his credit, Father winced.

  Quietly, my mother came to join us. Reaching out, she lifted baby Gideon. Holding him close, she rocked him in her arms. “He is a son of White Deer Lodge.”

  “And I am his mother,” Chloe said, still speaking directly to our father. “You’ve never seen me as you do Nicole, but I am no different. I am a daughter of White Deer Lodge and this place is my home.”

  “Chloe is right,” our mother said, still rocking the baby. “She is a daughter of White Deer Lodge. Our girls are home safe and our grandson is home safe, and there will be no more talk of punishment. Am I understood?”

  Looking down at the baby, Father nodded.

  * * * *

  Late winter passed into spring. The documents arrived, finalizing Christophe’s dissolved union with Chloe. For a noble divorce to be granted, a reason must be given. We never learned what reason Christophe had provided, but the king approved his request. Christophe and Chloe were no longer married.

  News reached Erik that Julian Belledini’s father had learned of the loss of the vineyard, that it had been gambled away. Julian had been sent off into the king’s army as an enlisted man, not as an officer with rights or privileges.

  My meadow bloomed, some of my hens hatched chicks, and my bees floated busily from flower to flower. My father and Erik waited tensely, but Christophe did not recall his troops guarding our shoreline.

  Everything should have seemed the same as it was before, but it was not.

  Chloe had come into her own power and I rejoiced for her. Though it had seemed likely she would be shunned from all society—a castoff from her husband under gossip-ridden circumstances—she was not. Christophe never said a word publically about why he had sent Chloe home or why he had dissolved the union.

  And yet, my father had taken her back and given her son our family name. Should Erik decide not to marry, or should he marry and the marriage produce no son, young Gideon would inherit the family title and all our lands upon Erik’s death. The child held a place of honor and this suggested Chloe had done nothing wrong. My father and brother doted on small Gideon and they could hardly wait to teach him how to ride.

  To most people, the situation was a great mystery.

  As opposed to society keeping away from Chloe, surprising numbers of noblewomen began calling upon White Deer Lodge on the flimsiest of excuses, such as to see the new baby. Noblewomen normally did not travel long distances to see a baby.

  Chloe organized teas and embroidery parties, and the ladies were glad to have her back. She was much better at this sort of thing than my mother or me. A kind of game began in which women would carefully ask Chloe a question about her circumstances and see how she responded.

  Only Lady Richelle de Miennes was more blunt with her questions. One day, over tea, she asked, “My dear, why did you leave Whale’s Keep?”

  Chloe took a graceful sip. “Have you met Lord Christophe’s sister, Lady Mildreth?”

  “Indeed I have.”

  “Then you already know why I left.”

  Laughter broke out, but this was all Chloe would say. She was home and finally flourishing in the knowledge that this was her place in the world. She was a daughter of White Deer Lodge.

  I had never seen her so at peace with herself or so happy. But me? I could not stop thinking on what we had done to achieve this happiness for her, or on the man we had injured. It left me feeling low.

  Spring passed into summer and this feeling did not lift.

  I took some respite in caring for Gideon. He was five months old now, eating oatmeal, and able to roll around on his own. He was a sweet-natured child and I found comfort in his company. I’d taken to spending the early evenings, before dinner, in the nursery with him. We employed a young maid named Mina to care for him during the dinner hour, but she and I always spent time together with him first.

  One night, in mid-summer, we spread two thick blankets on the floor of the nursery and laid Gideon on the blankets to let him roll around. He seemed to enjoy it very much and he smiled as babies do. We laughed as he rolled on his stomach and tried to push himself with his hands.

  A shadow passed over me and Mina looked up at the open doorway. Her expression froze and she scooted back, as if frightened. Startled, I followed her gaze.

  Christophe stood in the doorway, wearing chain armor and a sword.

  He was not improved from the last time I’d seen him. He’d not shaved in days and his jaw was covered in a dark stubble. The circles under his eyes were worse. He appeared so tall standing there. Men did not come up to the nursery, not even Erik or my father, and Christophe’s presence felt foreign, as Mina and I were two small women sitting on the floor with a baby while he stood watching us. I searched his face for the kindness that I had once so valued, but it was gone. Only the hard, brittle quality remained.

  He walked inside the room and glanced down at Mina. “Get out.”

  In panic, she looked to me. I nodded and she fled the room.

  Standing directly over me, with an impassive expression, Christophe studied Gideon as the child rolled onto his back.

  “He looks just like Erik,” he observed.

  I had no idea what to say. His unannounced arrival here left me off balance. A part of me longed to beg his forgiveness, but I could not bring myself to broach the reason that I needed his forgiveness.

  “I’ve heard your father has given him the Montagna name,” he said, “and even placed him as the current heir.”

  “Yes,” I answered quietly. “Father loves him. So does Erik.”

  Christophe nodded. “That’s good. The child should not suffer for the crimes of the mother.”

  I stared down at the blanket, hoping to change the subject. “Is all well at Whale’s Keep?”

  “I don’t know. I believe so, but I’ve spent the last month in Lascaux.”

  “Lascaux? Why?”

  Christophe had never been one to visit court. It was a place of petty favor-seeking, and he had no interest.

  “Looking for a wife, of course,” he answered. “I need a son, and the woman I married tried to saddle me with a bastard.”

  The Christophe I’d known would never speak like this. He was a changed man. We had done this to him, Chloe and I.

  “And did you find a wife?” I asked.

  “No. Not that there weren’t offers. I’d no idea how highly the de Fiores and Whale’s Keep are thought of. Seven different noblemen dangled their daughters in front of me. Lord Shermaine offered a dowry of two thousand silvers a year if I’d take his daughter, Ilianna. Have you met her?”

  I had. “Yes. Her family has visited. Ilianna is lovely.”

  “She is. Charming too. We spent a number of evenings at dinner together.”

  “But you will not marry her?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He stepped away, backing a few paces from the blanket. “Because I can’t. No matter how hard I try to force myself, I cannot see my life with anyone but you. I tried to make you see this, back when I thought you innocent and free of deception.”

  This was too much. Any chance of marriage between us was long over. Had he come here to punish me further? All thoughts of begging his forgiveness vanished.

  Standing, I squared off with him. �
��You have no idea what Chloe was facing. I had to help her. Christophe…she is my sister.”

  I’d said this to him once before and my words now brought the same reaction. His features twisted into rage, and I couldn’t help shrinking away.

  “Don’t ever say that to me again,” he bit off. “Ever.” His voice was raw. “But I still cannot see marriage to anyone but you. When the years of my life roll out before me, all I see is you.”

  Something about this left me unsettled, even anxious. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You will.”

  Anxiety turned to fear. Christophe no longer loved me. If anything, he despised me. Why did he keep talking of marriage?

  “Why are you here?” I blurted out. “What are you going to do?”

  “Do? What I should have done last summer. I’m going out into the village and I’m going to bring back the elder. He’ll marry us tonight and you’ll leave for Whale’s Keep with me in the morning.”

  Crouching, I quickly lifted Gideon and backed away from Christophe. “No.”

  Following me across the floor, he leaned down. “You will agree to marry me tonight, or I’ll withdraw my troops on your shoreline and leave your people to be slaughtered by those raiders.”

  As he waited for my reaction, I saw cruelty in his eyes. The Christophe I had known was not cruel, nor did he abuse his position of power over others. This man was a stranger.

  “Don’t do this,” I begged. “Please don’t.”

  Turning away, he said, “I’ll speak to your father before fetching the village elder. Meet us in the hunting hall in one hour. We’ve no need for anyplace so large as the gathering hall.”

  He walked out.

  * * * *

  Less than an hour later, I was hiding in my room—when I should have gone down to supper—uncertain what was about to happen.

  A knock sounded on my door and I opened it to find my father standing on the other side. His face was gaunt and drawn, as if he’d aged several years.

  “He’s told you then?” I asked, unnecessarily.

  My father nodded. “He’s in the hunting hall, with the village elder.”

  Village elders possessed the legal power to perform marriages.

  For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Then my father said, “Chloe is right that I traded her for two hundred soldiers. I won’t force you now.”

  Though his words meant a good deal to me, there was more at stake than one daughter of White Deer Lodge being forced into marriage.

  “Do you believe he’s in earnest about withdrawing his troops?” I asked.

  “Yes. He is a changed man.”

  “Then I have no choice.”

  * * * *

  Numb, I walked with my father down the path toward the hunting hall. Darkness had fallen and a few torches lit our way—and we both knew the path by heart. I had made my decision, or it had been made for me, and I was resigned.

  But the family drama was not yet over. Erik ran out of our second family residence, followed closely by my mother and Chloe. By the light of a torch, they saw Father and me on the path and hurried toward us.

  “What is happening?” Erik demanded. “We were told Christophe is in the hunting hall with the village elder.”

  My father did not stop walking and neither did I.

  We all reached the hunting hall together and entered. Christophe and our village elder, Mason du Penne, stood inside. Elder du Penne appeared uncertain and unsettled. The walls were lined with spears, longbows, and the heads of animals. Somehow, it seemed an appropriate place for this wedding.

  I had not bothered changing my dress and still wore the plain wool gown I’d been wearing in the nursery. I didn’t think Christophe would notice.

  “What is happening?” Erik demanded again.

  “Nicole will marry Lord Christophe,” our father said.

  “No!” Mother gasped, looking wildly between him and Christophe. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  Chloe strode forward, speaking to Christophe. “Why would you do this? To punish me?”

  For a moment, I thought he would pretend she didn’t exist, but then he said coldly, “Not everything is about you, madam.”

  Her cheeks went red. “What threats have you made?” She whirled back. “Father, what has he threatened?”

  “Chloe, move away from him,” my father ordered.

  Erik had been quiet through this exchange, but I could see his mind working. “What did he threaten?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said quietly. “I’ve agreed.”

  “Agreed?” my mother repeated.

  No one here besides my father, myself, and Christophe knew what had happened last summer in the meadow, that Christophe had once wished to marry me out of love.

  “Father, you can’t allow this to happen,” Chloe pressed. “You cannot allow him to take Nicole. Look at him! Can’t you see how angry he is?”

  Yes, Christophe was angry and I was about to be wed to a man who not only did not love me, but who appeared to take pleasure at the sight of my suffering. And yet…I could not refuse.

  “It’s all right, Chloe,” I put in. “As I said, I have agreed.”

  Mother was frightened now and Erik watched all this carefully. I believed if he knew of Christophe’s threat, he’d walk me to the elder himself. Erik was determined to protect our people and I didn’t blame him for that.

  I was just as determined to protect our people.

  Father turned to Chloe and my mother. “If either one of you says another word, I’ll have you removed.”

  Mother stared at him.

  Steeling myself, I walked to Christophe and Elder du Penne. The latter was an aging man with silver hair and a lined face. I’d known him since I was born.

  He appeared at a loss. “You wish for this, my lady?”

  I did not.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  There was a large piece of paper on a table beside him: a hastily drawn marriage agreement with a place for four signatures.

  With a tentative tone, he spoke to Christophe. “Do you, Christophe de Fiore, swear to love this woman, to protect her heart, to give her your loyalty, and to care for her all the days of your life?”

  Christophe hesitated. Perhaps he’d forgotten he would need to swear to care for me and protect my heart. But if he didn’t say the words, we would not be married.

  “I swear.” He bit them off as if they tasted bitter.

  “Do you, Nicole Montagna,” the elder continued, “swear to love this man, to protect his heart, to give him your loyalty, and to care for him all the days of your life?”

  How could I swear to love him? In this moment, I felt I didn’t even know him—and I was afraid of him. But again, there was no choice.

  “I swear.”

  “Then by the power of the state and of the king, I pronounce you husband and wife.” Elder du Penne motioned to the piece of paper. “I will need you both and Lady Nicole’s father to sign.”

  One by one, we did. Then Elder du Penne signed.

  Christophe gazed down at me as if waiting for me to realize something—and then I did. We were married and this was our wedding night.

  My mother seemed to realize this in the same moment, and in spite my father’s earlier threat, her dignified voice carried across the room. “Forgive me, my lord. I was not allotted time to prepare a proper wedding suite.”

  Christophe’s head swiveled toward her.

  I believed he saw himself as a greatly wronged man, exacting justified revenge upon a family that had injured him. It was clear that she saw him as an angry lord abusing his power over others to take what he wanted.

  They were both right.

  But Christophe had always admired my mother and seeing himself through her eyes, he wavered.
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  “No need for apologies, my lady,” he said. “I will sleep in my usual guest room. Lady Nicole may sleep where she pleases.” He started for the door and then paused. “But we leave for Whale’s Keep in the morning.”

  Chapter 12

  The following day was a blur.

  As I’d already made the journey to Whale’s Keep once, I knew what to expect and time passed more quickly than before, even though we were somewhat delayed by one of the horses going lame. We reached the shore across from Whale’s Keep well after the dinner hour, but Christophe still loaded me into a boat and helped row me across to the island. The darkness did not seem to hinder him. Once we’d reached the landing, he walked ahead on the long climb up to the village, and we had not exchanged a word all day.

  I followed him through the village and into the courtyard. My skirt was wet from the crossing, but the hood of my fur-lined cloak was up, keeping my head warm. He opened the front doors to the keep and walked inside.

  Again, I followed.

  Mildreth was walking down the center passage toward us and I remained behind him with my hood up.

  “Brother,” she said, sounding tentative, almost as if she feared him. “I’d heard you returned. Was this mad quest of yours successful? Have you brought back a wife?”

  “I have.”

  He stepped aside and she watched me as I drew back the hood of my cloak.

  Her mouth fell half open. “What is the—You cannot mean you have—?”

  “The lady Nicole is my wife,” he said. “It is done.”

  “This betrayer? You’ve brought her back into our home?”

  When he turned on her, she drew back, and I realized I’d not been wrong. She was afraid of him.

  “I am tired,” he said. “Go to bed, Mildreth. We will speak of this in the morning.”

  With her body held tightly, she left us with as much dignity as she could muster, walking down the east passage.

  But Christophe was watching me now.

  “You will sleep in your sister’s old apartments. I trust you know the way,” he said. Then he leaned closer. “Shall I come up and join you there?” With this taunt, one side of his mouth curled into a snarl and again, I found it hard to believe him so easily capable of cruelty. He had been stoic and perhaps too easily hurt before, but he had never been cruel.