Friendship

by Margit Sandemo

  ***

  The very next day she heard the rumours about Alexander. She discovered that his position was very uncertain, and it was only the support of the King and his excellent ability as an officer that had saved him from terrible disgrace. There was talk of a court martial or trial but she was unable to find out the details. She was now deeply concerned for his sake because, in spite of everything, she realised that she shared a very deep and heartfelt affinity with him.

  Cecilie hadn’t been back in Copenhagen for more than a few days before she suffered an even worse shock. This time she discovered that she was going to face up to an earth-shattering dilemma – the consequences of her fleeting encounter with Martinius, the vicar.

  The day when Cecilie discovered that she was pregnant was the worst of Cecilie’s young life. At first, she was petrified. Then she reeled quickly back and forth between panic and hope. She felt all the wrenching emotions and upset that every young woman since the dawn of time has ever felt after an impulsive act of love. She wrung her hands so hard and so frequently that her arms ached. Then she laughed nervously and hysterically over and over again, telling herself it wasn’t possible – and anyway, she couldn’t be sure for several weeks at least.

  Then came the fury. For a long time, she cursed the young vicar from the depths of the ocean to the heights of heaven, calling him by all the worst, most insulting names she could think of. Eventually, when exhausted, she admitted reluctantly to herself that she’d been equally at fault. She hadn’t exactly tried to resist his advances, had she?

  But who could she turn to for good advice? Fortunately, not much time had passed. It was only fourteen days earlier that she’d met Martin in the potting shed in the churchyard, so she could be absolutely certain of the time.

  Although she couldn’t be absolutely sure of her condition, Cecilie had enough intuition to suspect that this was very serious.

  While she was waiting to leave Copenhagen, she’d been asked to finish embroidering a dress for Anna Katrine, the King’s daughter, by Kirsten Munk. But she didn’t manage to sew on many beads. The patterns floated together in a muddle before her eyes and all the while she imagined fearful pictures of the future, seeing herself with a child nobody would accept, eased out and condemned, punished in some way she couldn’t imagine.

  Sighing repeatedly, she tried again and again without much success to concentrate on the beaded embroidery.

  In three days’ time, she knew that a carriage would take her to Frederiksborg. What was she to do until then? There would be no compassion shown to her if her condition became known. The best she could hope for would be expulsion from Court. But should fate be really unkind, she knew the pillory could await her – and after that nothing but a life of shame.

  Cecilie had become aware of her condition that morning. When she got up she’d felt suddenly light-headed and had vomited. But it wasn’t only that which disturbed her. A week earlier she’d expected her monthly period to begin but it still hadn’t happened – and this was otherwise always on time without any exception. As a result, every single minute of that day her mind had been in turmoil.

  She’d considered but subsequently rejected many extraordinary ideas. Of course, she knew there were many different ways to drive out an unwanted child from the womb: you could work like a woman possessed, dance a jig until you were almost dead from fatigue, lift heavy loads until your spine was about to break, go to see a wise woman or take different potions. The list was endless. But Cecilie knew in her heart that she’d not been brought up to take life.

  By evening she’d made her decision although it hardly helped calm her fears. If only she had more time to prepare, she thought. If only time hadn’t been so important. She really couldn’t afford to waste one day. Although she was still almost scared out of her wits, she’d made up her mind and made her way discreetly to Alexander Paladin’s quarters.

  “Mr. Paladin’s not at home,” said his servant, and Cecilie’s courage began to ebb. “He’s in the barrack wing.”

  “Ah, so when will I be able to see him?”

  “I don’t know. He has so much to attend to at present. His Majesty, the King, is arming for war against the Catholics. A great many troops are getting ready.”

  At that moment, Cecilie had no interest at all in the wars of nations. She knew nothing about the press-gangs rampaging through Norway, for she’d left Graastensholm before they arrived and unaware of the fate of her own cousins. All that was on her mind was her immediate problem. Only a short time ago she’d been dreading this visit, but now she was very anxious to meet Alexander and the delay irritated her.

  “Oh, what am I to do?” she half whispered, her face pale and drawn. “It’s about an urgent matter! Time’s so short!”

  The servant wavered, then said: “Please come in and I’ll try to send a message to Mr. Paladin.”

  Cecilie considered the alternative: the pillory perhaps? This wasn’t a proposition she relished. “Yes, please do send a message,” she told him and stepped through the doorway. As she followed the servant, she put her hand on his arm and he stopped instantly: “Tell me,” she said tentatively. “I’ve heard some awful rumours. Is our good friend, Mr. Paladin, in trouble?”

  The servant’s expression hardened, but because he was aware of Cecilie’s closeness to Alexander, he understood her kindness and saw the warmth and worry in her eyes.

  “Indeed he is. The truth is that his situation is extremely serious – a matter of only a few days at the most. Then it’ll be the end.”

  Cecilie nodded. “A court-martial?”

  “Yes.”

  No more needed to be said and a moment later the servant showed her into the elegant drawing room and disappeared. Although what he’d told her had made her undertaking easier, Cecilie felt no sense of triumph. She had to wait for a long time, which did nothing to calm her nerves. Her hands felt cold and clammy, and she paced the floor continually, examining every last detail of the room.

  It was so exquisitely furnished. Here were heirlooms of the highest quality including decorated Renaissance chairs, a map of the world that she couldn’t really understand and beautifully bound books. Alexander Paladin must be very rich, she thought. But could his great wealth help him now?

  Cecilie had been looking at a portrait that hung on the wall and was surprised when at last she heard his hurried steps in the hallway. The blood rushed to her cheeks and clenching her hands tightly she turned to face the door. Her eyes were wide with apprehension. This was the moment and she knew she had to choose her words carefully.

  Pulling the door open without ceremony, Alexander entered the room in a rush. His expression was grim.

  “What is it, Cecilie? The messenger said it was a very urgent matter – I was in a meeting with the King’s Council.”

  The apprehension she was feeling had made her even more tense. “Are you in a hurry to return to the meeting?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  “Can you spare me half an hour?”

  He hesitated. “Less, if at all possible. The Council doesn’t suffer interruptions gladly.”

  “Forgive me,” she said, her eyes downcast. “I’ll try to be brief, but it’s not something I can explain in a few minutes. I really need several days.”

  “Do sit down,” he said. His tone was gentler now. He sat down facing her. “You’re clearly in difficulties. What’s happened?”

  She thought how handsome he was with his fine aristocratic features and eyes that always seemed to be beckoning her. All these things had no meaning now, she reminded herself – it was time for other things to be said. Although she’d carefully rehearsed everything she was about to say, she found that words were failing her.

  “Alexander,” she began haltingly, then stopped again. “Alexander – if I were to propose something I’d not want you to think that I sought to hurt or
offend you ...”

  He raised his eyebrows in puzzlement but said nothing.

  “Please don’t think ... I’m intending ... blackmail!” she stammered. “Or anything like that – I know that you’re in trouble but I’ll support you. You mustn’t forget that.”

  He waited, still saying nothing and she sensed the distance growing between them. She stared at him helplessly for another long moment, then blurted out: “I’m in desperate need of your help, Alexander!”

  He looked at her warily. “Has it to do with money?”

  “No! No! But I believe I can help you, too – I believe we can both help each other!”

  Cecilie realised that this wasn’t going at all well. She’d seen his shoulders stiffen at her last outburst and she sat twisting her fingers nervously, squeezing them so tightly that they hurt.

  All the time her heart was pounding loudly inside her chest and she felt sure he must be able to hear it.

  “I know that you’re in trouble but I know nothing of the particulars. Yet ...”

  She broke off again, realising that in her desperation she was repeating herself.

  “Please excuse me, I know I’ve already said that.”

  “Go on,” Alexander said tightly. “You need my help, but in what way?”

  Cecilie gulped. “There’s no other way to say this. While I was at home over Christmas, I did something terrible and foolish – an unforgivable act of stupidity which I can’t forgive myself for, let alone explain. This morning I discovered that I’m pregnant.”

  Alexander gave an astonished gasp and stared at her. He was speechless.

  “It’s something that occurred very recently,” she assured him quickly. “Not more than two weeks ago. But I’ve also discovered that you risk losing your commission - and maybe your head as well – because of your ... weakness. It seems that something’s happened while I’ve been away.”

  Alexander said nothing for a long moment.

  “Yes,” he replied at last in a strangled voice as he got to his feet. It was obvious that he couldn’t bear to look her straight in the eye and he turned away before continuing. “Do you remember young Hans?”

  “Yes.”

  “He left me for another.”

  It was so strange to hear him speak like that. It was exactly the same as describing any normal tale of heartbreak between a man and a woman. She struggled to understand while images whirled in her mind until Alexander’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “They were both caught in the act, and Hans had told the other man about me, who’s spoken on oath at his trial.”

  Cecile could feel his pain. “And what of Hans?”

  “He’s very loyal and denies it, and I’m very grateful to him for that. But no one believes him, and this puts me in a horrifying position, Cecilie.”

  He’d turned to face her again while he was speaking. As he sat down once more, he felt able to look at her now that he’d told her almost everything.

  “The case will be heard in a few days’ time, and I’ll be asked to explain myself there. I’ll have to swear an oath on the Bible. I’m a devout man, Cecilie, I can’t perjure myself. That would be out of the question.”

  “So the King can’t save you?”

  “He’s taken me at my word – for the time being. If he were to discover that I’ve lied to him, then I’m finished.”

  Cecilie nodded. She was lost for words because she knew exactly what such disgrace and humiliation would mean to a nobleman like Alexander. He’d be left to the mercy of the seething crowds, threatened with flogging in the streets, abandoned by his peers.

  “Who was he?” Alexander asked softly.

  Suddenly he’d made her predicament the focus of attention. It took her a bit by surprise because she’d briefly forgotten all about it. Even so, his glimmer of interest warmed her heart.

  She avoided his eyes, disgusted with herself and what she’d done.

  “A good friend of the family,” she replied. “A vicar in an extremely unhappy marriage – starved of human kindness. The whole episode was so shabby! So unnecessary!”

  “But why, Cecilie?”

  “If only I knew! At the time I couldn’t hold back!”

  Alexander smiled, thin-lipped but still amused. “You’ve got a strange way of expressing yourself, dear Cecilie, but I understand what you mean. Sometimes such things are so very compelling.”

  He looked at her inquisitively for some time before adding: “You’ll understand that I want to know more about this man’s character. Is he intelligent?”

  “Oh, absolutely! And he has a fine and noble manner. He was the victim of impossible circumstances, with a wife who refused him any intimacy. I, on the contrary, can only blame myself.”

  “Is he very different from me?”

  “No! Oh no, not at all. Quite the opposite,” she said fervently. “No one would question that...” Cecilie stopped speaking suddenly in confusion, the colour mounting rapidly to her cheeks.

  Alexander bit on his knuckles. “I think I’m beginning to see what’s on your mind, but are you sure that this is what you want?”

  “I wouldn’t have come here otherwise. It wasn’t an easy decision, believe me!”

  “I do believe you. But you have only been thinking about this since this morning, isn’t that so?”

  “Time is very important. You must see that.”

  “Of course I do. But there’s one thing that bothers me.”

  “And that is ...?”

  “What made you give yourself to him?”

  “Why does that bother you?”

  “Don’t you see it, Cecilie? Think about it!”

  He understood – he’d recognised the similarities between himself and Martin!

  She sat up straight. “I’ll admit there was a time when your indifference both confused and saddened me. But you must understand that all feelings and desires I may have had for you were swiftly quashed – left cold as the grave – when Tarjei told me about your ... behaviour.”

  “And even so, you gave yourself to a man who reminded you of me?”

  “Let’s say that it was the last flickering of the flame, a flame extinguished by that perverse act. I’m healed, Alexander, and I’m strong. I won’t be a burden to you. You can live your life and I mine.”

  “That wouldn’t do you justice. You’re young and ...”

  His obvious reticence became too much for Cecilie. Fear and shame were tearing at her very soul, and she stood up abruptly.

  “Forgive me,” she muttered. “Please ignore my lack of forethought!” She hurried towards the door but he was ahead of her. His hands grasped her arms in a vice-like grip and his fiery eyes stared into hers.

  “Please, Cecilie, you mustn’t feel humiliated! Never – not you! You’re so dear to me! I welcome your offer with open arms. Can’t you see how I must clutch at any straw? Your words have given me such hope in my hour of desperation. But you’re the one I’m concerned about, my dearest friend. You don’t know what you’re asking of yourself.”

  “What other choice do I have?”

  “None, that’s true. Please forgive my hesitation a moment ago. I know it must have hurt you. Let me spare you the further indignity of asking for my help by saying something you haven’t, but which must be said. You must know that you’ll never have my love ... not ever. A marriage between us will never be consummated.”

  “I realise that. I can live without it.”

  He looked at her thoughtfully. “Can you? It’s a great sacrifice. Greater than you might think.”

  “My aversion to physical love started fourteen days ago and believe me, I think it will remain with me for many years to come!”

  Alexander was nodding absentmindedly, and although he was watching her, his thoughts were obviously far away. Realising this, Ce
cilie stood in silence, running her long thin fingers to and fro along the backs of her gloved hands. She wondered what she’d do if Alexander refused to take pity on her.

  Of course, she could return to Norway. But she would bring shame upon her kind, warm-hearted parents. She was, after all was said and done, the notary’s daughter. Yes, they would be sure to forgive her and accept the child just as they’d once taken back Sol and her little daughter, Sunniva. But could the family name withstand any more scandals?

  Grandmother Charlotte had been the first to come home with a “stray” in her arms. That had been Cecilie’s own father, Dag. Later Sol had brought Sunniva to them. Now it might be Cecilie with her bundle of misfortune. But although it might have become something of a family tradition, it seemed hardly right for her to place another heavy burden on her parents, however broadminded they might be.

  Yet far worse than anything else was the thought of returning to the parish of Graastensholm to where the married vicar, Martinius, lived. She never wanted to see him again. Never! He was a kind and friendly person in every way but the sin they’d committed together, driven solely by loneliness and nothing else, now forced them apart. Like drops of water on a red-hot iron, they skimmed in every possible direction, always away from each other. And besides, if Martin’s adultery became known, she’d certainly lose her head on the block – and so might he. Her bleak reflections were leading her spirits in a downwards spiral towards new depths of despair, but she was jerked back to the present by the sudden sound of Alexander’s voice.

  “Before anything is agreed, dear Cecilie, how had you thought of arranging this – between you and me?”

  “The practical details? Is that what you mean?”

  “Yes.”