by Barb Hendee
I remembered some of what she’d told me at White Deer Lodge. “He’d lost your stipend?”
“Yes, and then not longer after, he bet the vineyard in a game and lost.”
“And you went to Father for help.”
“But Father wouldn’t help and he wouldn’t let Christophe help, and when I got back here, Julian was so angry. At first, I think he pretended to be angry that I’d gone, but he said he understood and thanked me for saving him. When I told him that I hadn’t saved him, his anger was real. That was the first time he—”
“He beat you?” I finished, feeling ill. I’d thought Julian lazy and selfish. I’d never thought him violent.
She nodded. “Things went badly from there. His father found out he’d lost the vineyard—when it was not yet his—and a terrible scene followed. We were left with nothing except this cottage, but we don’t own it. We are merely allowed to live here. I tried so hard to please Julian, but our debts were mounting and the butcher stopped delivering. Julian began selling our furniture, but he didn’t use the money to pay our past bills or our servants. He used it to gamble. Whenever he won, he’d come home with food and wine, and he’d kiss me, and we would dance. I was so happy. But if he lost, he would come home angry.”
“And he would beat you?” I asked.
“Yes. After a while, he stopped coming to my bed and I ached for him. His mother sent us invitations to come for dinner. I wanted to go so badly, but he said he was ashamed of what I’d become and that he would not sit at a table in his father’s judgment. Soon, the servants left and the food was gone. Four or five nights ago, he came home so angry that he said terrible things. He said I was the one who had brought him so low. Then he dragged me upstairs. I thought at last he might take solace with me in our bed, but he wanted to hurt me. When I saw what he was about to do, I tried to fight him off, but he—he…” She trailed off and I didn’t wish to hear what he had done.
This was over.
“Chloe, you need to pack for yourself and the baby and come with me now.”
“Where?” she asked like a lost child.
“To Whale’s Keep. I have one of Christophe’s lieutenants and nine de fiore guards up at the main house. You said the manor is not far? We’ll take the baby and whatever you wish to carry, and we’ll walk up. There is still daylight. I don’t think we should ask to spend the night there. We’ll leave immediately. Lieutenant Solange can take us to an inn or make camp along the road if need be.”
“Leave? But Julian will come back and find me gone.”
“Good. Get the baby ready.”
She did not move and I grew nervous.
“Nicole,” she said, “I cannot leave Julian. He needs me. He would be so sad to come home and find me gone.”
Had she lost her senses? And then I realized that perhaps she had. She sounded so damaged she was unable to think clearly. My first thought was to offer kindness and try to coax her, but I worried that might not work, so I let my anger flow.
“If you won’t leave for yourself,” I said sharply, “then think of him!” I pointed to Gideon in his cradle. “Your milk is drying up from lack of food. Do you want your child to die? Is that what you want?”
Her face turned stricken and I feared I’d gone too far. She was so fragile.
“Listen to me,” I said more gently. “Come home with me for a little while. We have honey and eggs and cream and apple tarts at the keep. Just stay for a few weeks. Eat well and grow stronger so that you can feed young Gideon. We’ll leave word for Julian and if he comes in search of you, Christophe will have him brought to the keep, and we can all be together as a family. Wouldn’t you like that?”
Of course as soon as Christophe saw Chloe’s condition, he’d give our guards orders that Julian not be allowed to set foot on the island, but in this moment, I’d have said anything to make her leave with me.
The image I painted got through. “Yes,” she breathed. “Julian would come in search of me, wouldn’t he?”
“Of course he would, and finding you gone will only make him miss you.”
I couldn’t believe I was saying these things, but my sister was broken.
She nodded. “He would miss me, and that might help him to be kind to me again.” She looked up. “And once Julian comes, we’ll all be together at the keep? Christophe truly won’t mind?”
“No,” I rushed to say. “He won’t mind. We’ll have lovely meals while we wait for Julian to come and then we’ll all be together.”
“Yes,” she said and smiled. The sight was heartbreaking. “Come and help me pack.”
I’d not expected it to take long for us to prepare to leave the cottage, but upstairs, she began putting gowns into a trunk and I had to remind her several times that we were on foot and would need to walk up to the manor. Had I known how events would play out, I’d have had the lieutenant leave my horse. No, I’d have had him wait here.
But how was I to know the state in which I’d find Chloe? I thought perhaps she’d fallen ill. I had not anticipated this.
“No, my love,” I said to her. “Pack only one gown, your hairbrush, and anything you need for Gideon.”
In the end, I decided to leave my bag behind. I would carry the baby and Chloe could carry her bag. Finally, we were down in the parlor and we donned our cloaks and were ready to leave. Dusk was upon us and the light was growing dim.
“You know the way to the manor?” I asked.
“Yes, I know it well.”
She lifted her bag and just as I leaned down to pick up Gideon, the front door opened.
Julian stood in the doorway.
Chapter 17
Had Chloe straightened and given Julian the haughty, withering gaze of the woman I’d once known, he might have stepped aside to let us leave. He was a bully and all bullies are cowards at heart.
But as he stood there, his eyes moved first to me and then to her, taking in the sight of her cloak and her bag. Her expression took on an expression of wild guilt.
“Oh, Julian. This is not as it seems. Please don’t be angry.”
It was the guilt that set him off. It was her pleading tones. His own expression shifted to a mix of pleasure and cruelty. He was like a cat that longed to torture a mouse. For my part, I couldn’t help my rising anger that he appeared well fed. His hair was clean and so was his clothing. He’d left his wife and child in this near-empty cottage to starve, while he himself was clearly taking meals and comforts elsewhere.
He carried no food or gifts, however, suggesting that if he’d been off playing cards, he’d lost. Chloe had told me he came home angry on the nights he’d lost, looking to punish her.
“Not as it seems?” he asked, walking in. “It seems the lady Nicole has come to rescue you from your poor excuse for a husband.” He looked to me. “Is that not the case?”
I met his eyes. “Yes. Please stand aside.”
He wavered and glanced back outside. “Where is your guard? Where is your paragon of a husband?”
At this, it was my turn to waver, cursing myself. I should have kept the lieutenant here. But I had not anticipated danger.
When I didn’t answer, Julian smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re alone?” He closed the front door.
“I’m taking Chloe and the baby out of here,” I said. “And if you have any care for them, you’ll let me.”
“Care?” he repeated. “Who else has ever had a care for her? Your family? Hardly. Your father would happily let her starve here without lifting a finger. I’m the only one caring for her at all.” His eyes locked on her. “And this is how you repay me, by taking my son and sneaking off into the night?”
She dropped her bag. “Julian, please—”
He strode forward, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her from the parlor to a side room. She cried out and begged him to stop, but he flung her thro
ugh the door, slammed it from the outside, and slid a bolt across the frame, locking her in. I wondered where the bolt had come from. I’d seldom seen doors that locked from the outside.
Gasping, I glanced down at Gideon in his cradle, but he was still asleep.
Julian paced toward me, his voice dripping with hatred. “I’ve so long dreamt of coming home and finding you here, but I never thought it would happen. You ruined my life. You know that, don’t you? You must have planned it.”
He sounded mad and I backed away.
“I was in training for the military,” he went on, “to be an officer. I had great things waiting for me. But you had to go and tattle to your father, betraying me, betraying your sister. You forced me to marry her so that you could marry the great lord Christophe yourself, living in eternal comfort at Whale’s Keep. Then I was sent away in shame, saddled with a wife, hidden from the world in this shabby cottage, forced to sell my furnishings for food money.”
He must be mad if this was truly how he saw the chain of events. Could he take no responsibility for himself, for his own choices and actions? I glanced at the front door, wondering if I could outrun him. Did he have a horse outside? Could I get to the horse? I’d bring help for Chloe and Gideon straightaway.
“But I have you here now, don’t I?” he said, smiling again. “Like a gift from the gods. However shall I repay you?”
I bolted, running for the door.
But he was faster than I’d expected and he caught my arm, dragging me across the room and pinning me against the wall. When one of his hands gripped my waist, real fear hit for the first time. I did not sense desire from him, or at least not the desire of a man for a woman. He wanted to hurt me and he was enjoying using both his strength and his manhood.
“You didn’t seem to know it,” he whispered, “but you were always pretty.” His hand moved up my waist. “Very pretty.”
In panic, I brought the heel of my boot down on his toe, and I tried to break away. He swung with his right hand and hit me across the mouth hard enough that I fell, and he had to catch me. With his other hand, he caught hold of the neckline of my gown and ripped it partially off my shoulder.
I screamed.
A loud crashing sounded behind me and the front door broke inward. I could not believe what I saw. Christophe stood looking in. I worried that I was the one who’d gone mad. How could he be here? He could not be here.
His gaze moved from Julian to me, taking in my torn dress and my face. Warm liquid ran freely from the corner of my mouth. Christophe’s features twisted into rage and he let out a roaring sound as he charged. He never even drew his sword.
Julian’s eyes widened and he dashed forward to the table where I’d been slicing the cheese. Snatching the knife off the table, he lunged at Christophe and my fear turned to terror.
“No!” I cried.
But at the last second, as they rushed each other, Christophe somehow stepped to one side. He grabbed Julian’s wrist, turned his hand, and rammed the blade through the base of his throat. Christophe continued moving, dragging Julian back against the wall without letting up on the blade, but it all seemed effortless for him.
He kept pushing. Julian gurgled and struggled and then went still.
Christophe released the body and let it fall to the floor. He stepped away. He wasn’t even breathing hard. Blood flowed from Julian’s throat and pooled around his head. The knife was still in his throat.
I don’t how long Christophe and I stood there. I could not seem to think or move.
But then Christophe turned toward me. His body was taut and his eyes were manic. “You! You placed yourself in this danger. You came all this way without telling me, without even asking me!”
This was too much. I had been through too much and now, how he could stand there and say that? “I did ask you. I begged you. You said no! You didn’t understand.”
“Then make me understand!”
How could I make him understand? I could not explain. Finally, I said the only words that made sense.
“Christophe, she is my sister.”
He closed his eyes, let out a breath, and held out both arms.
I ran to him.
* * * *
The aftermath proved one of the longest nights of my life.
When I released Chloe from the room where she’d been locked, she came out slowly, as if uncertain what to do. When she saw Julian dead on the floor, with the knife still in his throat, she began screaming.
The sound was high-pitched and anguished and she did not stop. Christophe was not accustomed to screaming women and he put one hand to his ear. I started toward Julian to remove the knife, but Christophe stopped me.
“No,” he said over the sound of Chloe’s screams. “Leave everything exactly as it is. Where is the kitchen?”
Puzzled, I pointed down the hall outside the parlor. “There.”
“Bring the child,” he said. Then he swept Chloe up in his arms and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. Carrying Gideon, I followed him.
He sat Chloe in a chair. “Stop!” he ordered. “Now.”
She stopped.
“Nicole, give her the child,” he said.
Seeing what he was doing, I walked over and handed Gideon off to Chloe. “Here, sister. Hold your son.”
She held the baby to her, but her eyes were unfocused.
“There is still much to be done this night,” Christophe said to me. “I’m going up to the manor to fetch Lord Belledini and his captain, perhaps Julian’s brothers if they are there. I have a horse outside and I won’t be gone long.”
It dawned on me then that justified or not, Christophe had killed the third son of another lord.
“Don’t alter anything here,” he went on. “Don’t change your dress or treat the wound on your mouth or touch Julian’s body.”
I could see what he was doing and I was so glad for his presence, but this led me to more questions. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but how can you be here? You were riding north.”
“Lieutenant Solange sent a rider after me before he left the barracks with you. When the rider told me what had happened, I turned around to race back. I rode alone and I’ve not stopped since yesterday morning, except when I needed to find a village or town to change horses.”
The lieutenant sent him a message? Illogical as it was, the act made me feel slightly betrayed. I thought Lieutenant Solange to be on my side. My face must have given away my thoughts because Christophe stepped closer.
“Don’t place blame on him! That message is the only reason his head will stay on his shoulders. I haven’t decided what to do with him yet.”
His words and tone both stunned me. In this matter, Christophe sounded more than angry. He sounded almost vindictive. But I knew that could not be the case. Christophe didn’t have a vindictive bone in his body. Nor would he ever abuse his power over others.
“You cannot think to punish him,” I said. “He was only following my orders.”
“He doesn’t follow your orders!” Christophe shouted. “He follows mine.”
I stared at him. “Of course he follows my orders. I am the lady of Whale’s Keep. Had you forgotten that?”
The anger faded from Christophe’s eyes. “No, I’ve not forgotten.”
* * * *
By the time Christophe returned, full darkness had fallen. Thankfully, the lamps inside the cottage still contained oil, and I had been able to provide illumination in both the kitchen and the parlor.
From the kitchen, I heard the entrance of the men only an instant before Christophe called out, “Nicole? Bring Lady Chloe.”
Somehow, I got Chloe to stand. She still held Gideon.
“We must return to the parlor,” I said. “But you cannot scream. Lord Belledini is here.”
To my relief, she followed me.
>
We entered the parlor to find four men: Christophe, Lord Belledini, a man in a red tabard, and a man who looked a good deal like Julian—probably one of his brothers.
Lord Belledini’s face was ashen as he gazed across the room at Julian’s body. Then he looked over at Chloe and me—her with her black eye, me with my torn dress and bloody mouth. Pointing to my mouth, he asked, “Julian did that?”
“Yes. He attacked me. I screamed. My lord came in. He moved to defend me and Julian ran at him with a knife. Lord Christophe had no choice.”
All the men were listening to me. I was certain Christophe had told the exact same story before their arrival.
Then Lord Belledini looked about the room. “Where is all the furniture?”
“Julian sold it,” I answered. “For gambling money.” When none of the men came to Julian’s defense or even appeared surprised, I grew angry. “When I arrived today, there was no food in the house. Chloe had not eaten for days and her milk is drying up so she cannot feed the baby.”
To his credit, Julian’s brother looked abashed. “I didn’t know.”
“Did you ever think to check?”
I knew I sounded accusing, but I could not help it.
“Back to the matter at hand, my lord,” said the man in the red tabard. He was speaking to Lord Belledini, but he motioned to Julian’s body. “To me, this appears justified. I think any magistrate would agree.”
Lord Belledini nodded. “Yes. Lord Christophe bears no blame.”
Anyone attempting to prosecute Christophe would have faced a daunting task indeed, but I was gratified that the matter of Julian’s death had been so easily decided.
Then a more difficult problem reared its head.
Lord Belledini said to Chloe, “Come, girl. We’ll take you up to the manor. You and the child will stay with us.”
Whether this was due to guilt or kindness, I could not tell.
“She will come home with Lord Christophe and me,” I said.