Once Upon a Winter's Night fs-1

by Dennis L McKiernan

  And she danced the minuet, and then the quadrille, and then more dances after, all with different partners as listed on the dance card dictated by her mother-young men, old men, tall and short, stout and slender, all quite wealthy men, or sons of the very rich. And though she glided about the floor with these various partners, Camille could not think of aught but Alain, for he had taught her each of the dances, and she did miss him so.

  And so she stepped and curtseyed and turned and paraded ’round the chamber and paced hand-to-hand with old roues or handsome rakes, or whirled about in a joyous fling with robust and laughing young men, but she would have given it all up, and gladly, just to be sitting quietly with Alain at distant Summerwood Manor.

  Midmorn of the next day, from one of the guest rooms where she had been quartered, Camille descended to find five of her siblings and Papa breaking fast at a long, walnut-wood table. She served herself buffet-style from a sideboard, selecting from scrambled eggs, rashers, hot biscuits and butter and jellies and jams, and tea.

  She took a seat beside Giles and said, “You are looking quite fit, Little Frere, less given to searching for air.”

  Giles nodded. “I still have a bit of trouble breathing at times, though mostly not.”

  “The doctor claims his former ill health had something to do with thatch,” said Papa Henri, “especially thatch that has gone to mold, though what mold or even thatch has to do with aught, I cannot say.”

  “Maman says the doctor is a fool,” said Lisette, “and that it had more to do with dampness and wind whistling through chinks than with any dark mold.”

  Giles made a face and shuddered. “Even so, I still have to take that awful medicine.”

  “Well if you ask me,” said Colette, “I think it was all due to ill vapors, and somehow they’ve gone away.”

  “Regardless,” said Papa, “be it mold, thatch, wind, damp, or ill vapors, clearly Giles is much better, and whether it is due to our new home or the medicine, who can say?”

  Camille leaned over and embraced Giles. “Papa is right, and I am so glad for you.”

  They ate in silence for a moment, Camille looking about, and then she turned to her father at the head of the table and asked, “Papa, this mansion is quite splendid. Who built it?”

  “Hundreds of workmen from Rulon,” said Henri, “and in but nine months or so.”

  “Maman drove them mercilessly,” said Colette.

  “Had she a whip, she would have lashed them,” said Joie, Gai at her side nodding, the twins in total agreement.

  “They were lazy,” said Lisette, glaring about at the others as if in challenge.

  “Lazy?” exclaimed Giles, taking up the cast gauntlet from across the table. He gestured about. “Papa says they did the impossible, completing this mansion in but the time they did.”

  “Only because of Maman,” retorted Lisette.

  “Only because of Maman for what?” demanded Aigrette as she swept into the room.

  “ ’Tis only because of your efforts, Maman,” said Lisette, “that the mansion was started and finished when it was.”

  “Indeed,” Maman replied as she took her place at the foot of the table. “Had I not kept after those idlers, we would still be living in your pere’s hovel.” She rang the small handbell.

  Giles leaned over to Camille and said, “They tore it down, you know-Papa’s old place.”

  “Good riddance,” snapped Maman Aigrette, though at the opposite end of the board a look of sadness touched Papa’s eyes.

  An attendant came into the room, and under Aigrette’s sharp instructions, he readied and served her a plate, though he did have to return to the sideboard several times to get the best of the scrambled eggs, the portions quite small, and then the correct jellies in small dabs as well, for the waists of Maman’s gowns were quite tight, and she would have them so. When at last she dismissed the servant with a haughty wave, he left in obvious relief.

  “Where is Felise?” asked Camille, glancing toward the door.

  “Probably yet abed and enjoying Allard’s attentions,” replied Colette, wistfully.

  “Allard?”

  “Her husband.”

  “Felise is married?”

  “Indeed,” said Maman, raising her chin and peering down her nose at Camille. “And she married quite well, I might add.”

  “Oh, but not as well as you, Camille,” said Colette, “you being wedded to a prince and all.”

  Lisette muttered something under her breath, and Giles said across to her, “Fear not, dear Sister, for you might on a day snag some unwitting soul.”

  Colette and the twins burst into laughter at the lad’s gibe, with Giles grinning in the face of Lisette’s glower. Camille hid her own smile behind her napkin.

  Even though he kept a straight face, Papa said, “Now, now, mes filles et fils, let us have no-”

  “Giles!” snapped Maman. “You will treat your sisters with respect.”

  “But, Maman-” began Giles, only to chop to silence as Aigrette glared at him.

  Even as Lisette’s scowl at Giles turned into a smirk, “What’s all the laughing about?” said Felise, coming into the room, an anticipatory grin ’neath the freckles on her face, her complexion a bit flushed and glowing, as if she had just been engaged in some strenuous activity.

  Giles laughed. “I said to Lisette, that-”

  “Giles!” snapped Lisette and Maman together, and the lad fell silent, while the twins and Colette stifled giggles.

  “Good!” said Camille, setting a small bundle to the table. “Everyone’s here, and I have gifts for all.”

  As Felise filled a plate and took a seat, Camille unwrapped the bundle. “Here, Papa, here, Giles, these are for you.” She passed a small case to each, and inside each was a folding knife and a hone. As they reverently took out the knives, Camille said, “Renaud tells me these are fine blades, made of the very best bronze. And the handles are mother-of-pearl from the tropical seas of Faery. Too, your birthstones are set in the pearl: a diamond for each of you, since you are both April-born.”

  “Ooo,” breathed Giles, as he unclasped the dark-metal blade. Then he looked up at Camille, his eyes glittering. “Are they magic? Enchanted?”

  Camille smiled. “Perhaps you could say so, for the more skilled you become through practice, the better will your carvings be.”

  Giles beamed. “Oh, Camille, that’s marvelous.” But then his face fell. “-Hoy, now, wait a moment. That’s no real enchantment at all, is it?”

  Camille grinned and tousled his hair and said, “No, Giles, but now you and Papa can whittle to your heart’s content, and you won’t have to trade a single knife back and forth.” Giles brightened again and returned her grin.

  “Merci, Fille,” said Henri. “This will be used to make a fine echecs set.”

  “Just what I was thinking, Papa,” replied Camille. Then she unwrapped six rings, some set with glittering gems, while others held semiprecious stones. Amid murmurs of appreciation as she passed them to the recipients, Camille said, “These are birthstone rings: tourmaline for Joie and Gai; for Felise, saphir; sardoine for Colette; rubis for Lisette; and for you, Maman, heliotrope, also known as bloodstone.”

  Even as the others tried on their rings and ooh ed and ahh ed, Aigrette looked disdainfully at the bloodstone-set band and sniffed in dismissal and laid it aside and said, “I expected something finer from a princess, Camille. After all, with your wealth and position…”

  Stricken, sudden tears brimming, Camille said, “Oh, Maman, can’t you just merely be happy for once?”

  Giles reached over and touched his hand to Camille’s and whispered, “No matter what Maman says, dear Camille, these gifts are quite splendid.”

  Felise held up her beringed finger in the rays of light streaming through one of the windows, the blue sapphire glinting, “ Ooh, it catches the sun and transforms it into a star. I shall have to show it to Allard, when he wakes up and comes down.”

  �
�Let us see what our rings will do,” said Gai, glancing at her twin, and they turned the pale green tourmalines into the light.

  “Oh look, now and again they glint blue,” said Joie.

  In the sunlight, Lisette’s ruby burned with fire.

  Colette’s opaque sardonyx ring did not transform the light, though the stone was quite elegant and different from the others, its bands of brown and tan and white clearly beyond the ordinary. “Oh, my,” she said, “how striking. Perhaps I’ll pretend that it came from some mysterious suitor and make Luc jealous.”

  Maman, unable to resist, pushed her red-and-green bloodstone across the table and into a sunbeam streaming onto the walnut wood, but her stone was opaque as well, and though the red flecks within the dark green stood out brilliantly, the stone itself did not break the light, and she huffed and returned to her rashers and eggs.

  “Where did you get these, Camille?” asked Felise.

  “From Alain,” replied Camille. “When we decided that I would come for a visit, the prince asked me what birthdays each of you had and then selected the gifts specifically to match the months I named.”

  Aigrette’s eyes widened, and she reached out and took up the bloodstone ring. “These are from the prince himself?”

  “Yes, Maman.”

  “Well, then.” Aigrette slipped the band onto her finger and held her hand up so that she could see it. Then she resumed eating.

  Camille sighed heavily, but Giles said, “Maman, when you believed the gift was from Camille, you thought it quite insignificant; but a gift from the prince himself, well now, that was different. Yet, in between your assumption and the revelation of the truth, the ring itself did not miraculously transform. Tell me, Maman-”

  “Don’t talk to me like that!” snapped Aigrette.

  Giles fell mute, but he turned to Camille and grinned.

  A silence descended ’round the table, but finally Camille looked from sister to sister and asked, “So you have suitors?”

  A babble broke out, all sisters talking at once:

  “Luc and I are engaged, and-”

  “I’m married, Camille, to Allard-”

  “I believe that Javert is getting quite serious, though whether to me or Gai, I cannot-”

  “Oh, Camille, you should have been here when the men first began to come to call. They would take us out to the wishing well and toss in coins and-”

  “They still do,” called Gai, her voice rising above the others. “Just last eve, Philippe tossed in a gold coin and wished for a kiss from me and-”

  “-and she gave him much more than just a-” interjected Joie, suddenly breaking off and glancing at Aigrette, even as Gai jabbed an elbow into her twin’s ribs. Amid quiet titters, conversation stilled.

  Maman cleared her throat and said, “As to Phillipe, his prospects are quite dismal. Instead I suggest that one of you consider Lord Jaufre-”

  “Maman!” cried Gai. “He’s old and fat and always trying to slobber a kiss on me.”

  “And all he speaks of are his hounds,” added Joie.

  “And he pants and sweats,” added Gai, “and whenever he gets a chance he presses against my bosom.”

  “Well,” said Lisette, first glancing at her mother, then looking at the pair, “you let others kiss you, and, I suspect, caress you as well, perhaps even fondle.”

  “Lisette!” cried the twins.

  “Maman,” interjected Felise, “Lord Jaufre is an old roue. I wouldn’t wish him off on even one of his dogs, much less a sister of mine.”

  Aigrette glared down the table. “I will not have you speaking this way of our houseguest; why, Jaufre could come down the stairs at any moment and overhear these slurs.”

  “He knocked on my door last night,” said Colette, “and asked me if I was in bed. I didn’t answer. I didn’t let him in, either. After a while he went away.”

  “The old seducer,” growled Felise.

  Maman rapped a spoon against the table. “Now listen and listen to me well: by one of you marrying Lord Jaufre it will increase our fortune considerably.” She gestured at Camille. “Besides, having another royal personage in the family will raise our status as well.”

  “Maman!” cried the twins and Colette. Camille shuddered in revulsion as she remembered her dance with Lord Jaufre, and she could not imagine anyone desiring him as a mate. Lisette also shuddered at the prospect of being wedded to that old roue, but she nodded in agreement with Aigrette.

  But then Papa said, “Aigrette, it will not happen, not only because our filles will not have it so, but neither will Lord Jaufre. I think he is here to eat our food and drink our wine and seduce anyone he can, and nothing more.”

  Aigrette seethed in fury and through clenched teeth said, “Henri, be silent!”

  None said aught for a while, but then Felise asked Camille, “What does Prince Alain look like?”

  “Well, he’s a head or so taller than me, and slender, yet quite well built, with black hair and grey eyes and full lips and gentle hands… he plays the harpsichord.”

  “Is he handsome?” asked Colette. “My Luc is quite beautiful.”

  “Beautiful?” said Joie. “I would not describe him that way.”

  “Well, I think it so,” snapped Colette.

  Papa smiled at Colette and said, “That’s all that matters, Letty. If you think him beautiful and let him know, it will fill his heart.” Henri then glanced at Aigrette.

  Aigrette huffed, and spread butter on a biscuit.

  Colette smiled at her father, then turned again to Camille. “Is he handsome: your Prince Alain?”

  “My Allard is quite handsome,” said Felise. She smiled at Colette. “Do you remember how splendid he looked at the wedding?”

  Gai clapped her hands and turned to her twin. “Oh, and what a grand wedding that was.”

  Joie nodded in agreement and said to Camille, “There were spring flowers and guests galore, and a heirophant came from Rulon to bless the union.”

  “It was quite lovely,” admitted Lisette.

  “Oh, Maman, when it is my turn, I do hope to have a wedding just as beautiful,” said Colette.

  “And, for me, a groom as handsome as Allard,” added Joie.

  For a moment silence fell, all but Camille remembering that day. But then Colette said, “I wish you had been here, Camille. Still, you did not answer my question: is Prince Alain handsome?”

  Camille shrugged. “I don’t know. I have never seen him without a mask.”

  “What?” cried several at once. “ A mask?”

  Aigrette dropped her knife aclatter to the table. “You mean you have never seen his face?”

  “No, Maman.”

  “What prince would wear a mask? Why, he could be a robber, a thief, an outlaw, to always go masked like that.”

  “No, Maman. He is no outlaw, but truly is the Prince of the Summerwood.”

  Frowning, nevertheless Felise came to Camille’s defense. “Maman, mayhap he is simply disfigured-a scar, a wen, a gape, the aftermath of pox, or some such.”

  “Perhaps a birthmark,” added Papa.

  “ Ooo, ” said Giles, his eyes wide in speculation, and he peered ’round the table and whispered loudly, “What if there’s nothing under the mask but just a bony, skeleton skull?”

  Now the twins’ eyes flew wide in alarm.

  “No, Giles,” replied Camille. “Not true, for every eve I see his lips and his eyes, and although I have never seen his visage, I have felt the contours of his face, the flesh of his cheeks and jaw, brow, nose, chin, and, of course, his gentle mouth. No, Giles, there is no”-Camille grinned and raised her hands in mock fear-“ ooo, bony, skeleton skull under the mask.”

  “Oh,” Giles said, his face falling in disappointment, underneath which hid a grin.

  “This mask, does he never take it off?” asked Lisette.

  Camille blushed. “He does not wear it in bed.”

  “And still you have not seen his face?”

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nbsp; “The room is quite dark, Lisette.”

  “How strange,” said Henri. “Still, do you love him? And more importantly, does he love you?”

  “Oh, yes, Papa. We are madly in love with one another.”

  Papa turned up his hands and shrugged and said, “L’amour est tout.”

  “Indeed, Papa, love is all,” replied Camille.

  Maman merely muttered under her breath, but what she said, none at the table did hear.

  “What was your wedding like, Camille?” asked Felise, glancing at Lisette, whose eyes narrowed.

  Nonplused, Camille remained silent.

  “Come, come,” demanded Maman.

  “We have not yet had a wedding,” Camille admitted.

  Again Aigrette dropped her knife. “What? No wedding?”

  “No, Maman. No wedding, though we are pledged to one another.”

  Aigrette glowered at Henri. “And he has taken you to his bed, this masked prince?”

  Camille nodded mutely.

  Lisette smiled a wicked smile and raised her chin as if in victory.

  “And no banns have been posted, no king notified, no monk, no heirophant has solemnized aught?” asked Aigrette.

  “No, Maman,” Camille meekly replied.

  “What would Fra Galanni say, Camille? Living as you are without proper sanction.”

  “I don’t know, Maman.”

  “Aigrette,” said Papa softly. “No banns were posted when you pledged to me, no messages sent, no heirophant sought, no formal wedding at all.”

  “ What? ” exclaimed several daughters simultaneously, turning to Maman.

  “You and Papa were never properly wedded?” said Gai.

  “We are all bastards,” declared Giles, grinning.

  “Be quiet, all of you,” barked Maman, glaring in outrage at Papa. “What your pere and I have or have not done is neither here nor there. It is what Camille has not done that is at the crux of the matter.”

  “How so?” now challenged Camille, regaining some of her spirit. “We are pledged, and Alain himself has vowed that as soon as he resolves a vexing problem, then we will wed.”