by Barb Hendee
Malcolm left right after the burial.
When Tobin learned of Siobhan’s death, he left his father’s fields and came riding to the manor. Only then did Anna allow herself to weep. She told him the truth.
“Oh, Anna,” he said, holding her. “I’m so sorry.”
After crying until she had no tears left, she somehow felt a little more like herself. She hadn’t been able to eat, but Tobin got her to drink some tea with milk.
He was a good man.
He had to go home the next day. For grape growers, late summer and early fall were busy.
The days passed, and each one got a little easier, but Anna would never forget the sight of her aunt on that bed, dead by her own hand, brought to such depths by obsessive love. To Anna, love seemed to be either the most healing emotion in the world or the most destructive.
Thankfully, her love was one of light, and she’d never allow it to become destructive.
Every day, she put fresh roses on her aunt’s grave.
In early autumn, several weeks before the wedding, a maid came to her room while she was dressing for dinner.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, miss, but your parents want to see you in your father’s study.”
Anna’s father had taken a small room on the main floor as his private chambers with a desk and all his papers. He rarely allowed anyone in there. From what she understood, most men didn’t like anyone else inside their studies.
Puzzled, she went downstairs and found both her parents standing behind his desk. She knew them well enough to see that beneath their calm veneers they were both excited.
“What’s happened?” she asked.
“Sit down, my dear,” her father said.
He never called her his dear. She sat.
“I think you know that Malcolm’s brother, Kristoff, the prince of Yegor, is ten years his senior?” he began.
She nodded and tried not to wince. It hurt to be speaking of Malcolm.
“Did you also know that Kristoff has no heir and his wife is long past childbearing?” he asked.
She didn’t, but what did that matter to them now?
“Kristoff’s health is failing, and he’s not expected to live much longer,” her father continued. “Do you understand what that means?”
“Yes, of course. When he dies, Malcolm will be named prince of Yegor.” This conversation was uncomfortable, and she couldn’t help adding, “What does that have to do with us now?”
“Malcolm has asked for your hand,” her father answered.
For a moment, Anna didn’t think she’d heard correctly.
But her mother clasped her hands to her breast. “My dear, you will be princess of Yegor.”
Anna felt the floor shift beneath her feet. “I cannot marry Malcolm. I’m engaged to Tobin. The wedding has been planned. He’s begun repairs on the cottage.”
Her father waved one hand. “That is nothing. Tobin is a boy of no rank. His father will understand, and there will be no retribution.” He smiled. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him smile. “You will be princess of Yegor. Do you know what that will mean for our family?”
“And his treatment of Aunt Siobhan doesn’t concern you?”
“Your aunt was mad,” he answered. “I’m sorry to say it, but she was. I never saw any fault on Malcolm’s part.”
Though Anna somehow managed to remain composed, her face must have shown a hint of the shock and nausea she felt inside. Her mother said quickly, “I can see you are nearly overcome, my darling. And who wouldn’t be? Go up to your room, and I’ll be up directly.”
Anna fled. Instead of going to her own room, she ran to Adrienne’s.
Her sister was nearly ready to go down for dinner, but she whirled from the mirror when she saw Anna’s reflection. “What’s wrong?”
“Mother and Father want me to marry Uncle Malcolm. He’s asked for my hand.” She had trouble breathing as she choked out the words.
“What?”
Their mother appeared in the doorway, looking in.
Adrienne turned on her. “You can’t be serious? He’s our uncle! Twenty years older than her.”
“There is no blood connection between them.”
“He is a seducer of women.”
Their mother looked at her as if she were simple. “Yes, and that is his only vice. He does not gamble. He does not drink to excess, and he never once laid a hand on my sister in anger no matter how she provoked him. For a nobleman, his virtues are almost beyond compare.” She exhaled. “Do you truly think mine is the only bed your father has visited over the years? It’s time you both grew up.”
“You want me to marry Uncle Malcolm?” Anna asked.
“Stop calling him that. He’s no longer your uncle.”
“But you want me to marry him?”
“I want for you to be the princess of Yegor and to enjoy all that goes with such a title. You have no idea. When you’re older, you will thank me.”
Anna looked at the floor. She couldn’t fight both her parents. She didn’t know how.
* * *
Two days later, a message was sent to Tobin’s father, breaking the engagement. That same afternoon, Anna and her parents left the manor with a retinue of guards, traveling to Yegor.
Anna wasn’t even allowed to tell Tobin good-bye.
She didn’t speak much along the journey. She tried not to let herself think.
They arrived at the keep in the evening, and it looked much the same as when she’d visited the place as a girl. Malcolm might soon be prince of Yegor, but for now, he was his brother’s vassal. He met them in the courtyard and kissed her hand when she dismounted.
“I will make you happy,” he said.
He did not smile or tease her or make jokes, and for that, she was grateful. They entered the keep, and he announced dinner would be served as soon as they’d had time to wash and change from the journey.
“A magistrate will be here tomorrow to conduct the ceremony. It will be a quiet affair.”
Anna said little at dinner and flushed with embarrassment when her father asked Malcolm about his brother’s health. She was confused when Jenelle did not join them. The Janvier children had all left the nursery and joined the dining table by the age of six.
“Where’s Jenelle?” she asked toward the end of the meal.
Malcolm shook his head. “I don’t know. With her nanny, I expect.”
After the meal, Anna asked directions from a maid, went upstairs, and found the girl. She was alone on the floor of a room, playing with a doll.
“Jenelle?”
The child looked up but didn’t speak.
“I’m Anna.”
“You will marry my father?” Jenelle asked.
Anna went in and sat on the floor. “Yes, tomorrow.”
“Do I have to call you Mother?”
“No, not if you don’t wish. Call me Anna if you like. Did you know I am your cousin? Your mother was my mother’s sister.”
Again, the child didn’t answer, and Anna reached out. “May I see your doll? She’s lovely.”
She played with Jenelle for an hour and then put the child to bed herself.
* * *
The next afternoon, after breakfast, a magistrate arrived at the keep, and a short ceremony was conducted in the dining hall. Anna’s parents acted as witnesses, and she insisted that Jenelle be allowed to attend.
The six of them had dinner afterward—the magistrate being the only outside guest.
Anna tried not to think of the wedding she’d planned with Tobin . . . of the flowers and cake and musicians.
That night, several serving women led her to a large chamber with a four-poster bed. She was undressed and a white nightgown was slipped over her head. The women left.
A short while later, Malc
olm came in.
Again, thankfully, he didn’t try to make light of this or pretend all was well and that they were a normal, happy bride and groom on their wedding night.
“I can’t imagine what you think of me,” he said. “But I am beyond grateful that you have agreed to be my lady.”
She never knew what to think of the words that came from his mouth. At forty, he was still alarmingly handsome—or most women would find him handsome. Coming to her, he leaned down and kissed her on the mouth.
She didn’t feel the spark she felt with Tobin, but neither was she as repulsed as she’d expected.
He led her to bed, and she endured what followed with as much grace as she could draw from inside herself. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. Perhaps he’d not expected much of a response.
“Trust me,” he whispered. “I swear I will make you happy.”
Her parents left for home the next day, and Anna began her life as a married woman.
* * *
Over the years, Siobhan had let the household of the keep fall into a sorry state, but this proved to be a lifeline for Anna. There was much to be done, and if her mother had taught her anything, it was the proper running of a household.
This kept her almost too busy to think on other matters in those early days.
She interviewed and hired more servants. The overworked, understaffed cook was a woman named Helen, and Anna employed her counsel when it came to hiring more kitchen help. As a result, she won Helen’s undying loyalty.
Throughout all this, Anna kept Jenelle with her, sometimes asking her thoughts on certain matters. The girl began to open up slightly from the interaction and attention, and she was soon Anna’s shadow by choice.
Rooms were cleaned.
Tapestries were beaten.
The lauder was inventoried and restocked.
None of this was lost on Malcolm, who often offered silent expressions of gratitude. Anna made certain Jenelle joined them for dinner every night, and he never objected.
As time passed, she came to realize that he worked hard, too. As vassal for his brother, he was in charge of a large number of villages and crops and fields. The people who tilled and planted the fields kept half the crops for themselves and paid the other half to Malcolm. He saw the further sale of such crops and kept a portion for himself and sent another to his brother.
But he never overtaxed his people, and he worked with them actively, solving problems when need be and always listening when they came to him. He knew an astonishing amount about weather patterns and pollination and how to prevent diseases on apple trees or wheat fields. Anna couldn’t help remembering that first day with him out on the Janvier estate, long ago, when he’d shown her the tadpoles and explained their journey from eggs to frogs. He had made a study of the natural world.
His people respected him. They sought to please him.
“You’re a good vassal lord,” Anna said to him one night. “A good leader.”
He was taken aback by her praise, as if he’d never heard it before. Perhaps he hadn’t. Aunt Siobhan had been mad for him, but had she ever cared for how he spent his daily life? He was accustomed to being admired for his charm, but he knew better than to try to use it on Anna. Should she be surprised that he possessed actual virtues?
She began to wonder if she’d seen Malcolm only through the filter of her aunt’s eyes.
Later, she learned that he could be quite hard when he felt himself crossed.
He heard a report from the commander of his guard that one village had been hiding grain and shorting him on their taxes. His eyes went dark, and as opposed to sending someone else, he had three wagons prepared. He rode at the head of them himself.
That night, he came home with those wagons filled with grain.
“What did you do?” Anna asked.
His eyes were still dark. “I sorted it out.”
There were many sides to Malcolm.
Though he was always kind to her, six months into their marriage, she noticed him sometimes glancing at her stomach, and she realized he was waiting for a child. Her mind was still too focused on all she’d lost in the past to care too much, but just over a year into the marriage, she began to feel sick in the morning, and she missed her courses.
“I am with child,” she told him.
Overjoyed, he moved to embrace her and then stopped. They rarely touched unless committing the act of marriage in bed.
Instead, he said, “Be careful and do not wear yourself out. Have new dresses made if you need them.”
In her earlier life, Anna had never cared much about clothes, but she knew he liked her to look the part of his lady, so she was more particular now, dressing mainly in velvet and silk. As opposed to ordering new gowns, though, she simply had some of her own let out as her stomach grew.
Pregnancy agreed with her. After the initial morning sickness, not only was she well, but she was astonished by the love she felt for the growing child inside her. The months passed swiftly.
Her pains began one morning, and the midwife was sent for.
By evening, she was in agony, exhausted and soaked with sweat, and the baby seemed no closer to coming.
“What’s wrong?” she asked the midwife weakly.
“Nothing. It is a first child, and they take longer.”
But the woman’s voice held a hint of fear. No midwife wanted to fail in the delivery of a noble child, and Anna knew something was wrong.
Though she’d managed to remain quiet all day, after darkness fell, the pain was so great that she couldn’t help crying out, and she heard the bedroom door crash open.
“My lord!” the midwife cried. “You cannot be in here!”
“Get out of my way,” Malcolm ordered.
The next Anna knew, he was at her side, gripping her hand. “Anna.”
“You must leave, my lord,” the midwife insisted. “Men are not allowed!”
“Why hasn’t the child come? Why is she in so much pain?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. The baby isn’t breech, but your lady has small hips. She cannot seem to push it out.”
Malcolm remained in a chair by Anna’s head all night, whispering comfort and begging her to stay strong and not to leave him.
Shortly before dawn, somehow, she made a final push and the child was finally born.
She heard it cry.
“It’s a healthy boy, my lord,” said the midwife.
Malcolm still hovered by Anna’s head. “Hand him to me and see to your lady. Make sure she is properly tended.”
He remained in the room during the expelling of the afterbirth and the other unpleasant realities of childbirth. He never flinched, and he showed far more concern for her than he showed to the fact that he had a son.
Anna slept much of the day.
Only when he came to see her later did he kiss her forehead and say, “Thank you for giving me a son. If you don’t mind, I’d like to name him Lysander, after my father.”
Things were different between them after that. On some level, Anna knew Malcolm loved her.
Another year passed, and she began to feel some measure of happiness and peace. She had Jenelle and Lysander to love and a husband she’d grown to respect. If he ever cavorted with any maids or village girls, there was never a single sign of it, not even gossip among the servants or guards.
There were entire days when she no longer thought on the past or on all that she had lost.
Then one day, a letter arrived from Adrienne. The two sisters wrote often, and Anna appreciated the connection to her family’s home. Feeling pleased, she took the letter to her room to read it in private while sitting at her vanity.
My Dear Sister,
I have news of an odd nature, and I wanted to write to you as soon as possible, as I could not bear the thought
of you hearing it from someone else.
Though I never told you, Tobin took the breaking of the engagement very hard. He moved out of his father’s house into the cottage, and he began living there by himself, working his own vineyards.
Out of pity and worry, I began to visit him there.
Anna stopped reading as a knot built in her stomach. She looked at the wall across her room for a moment and then forced her eyes back to the letter.
He and I were always friends, and I sometimes helped him with the vines.
This past summer, Mother and Father forced me to go to Kéonsk, to the gathering of nobles, and I’ve never been so miserable in my life. Such a bore. So many false smiles and vapid conversations. I couldn’t wait to get home.
A week ago, down at the cottage, Tobin and I decided we would marry. Father and Mother have agreed. He will never love me as he loves you, and I know that. I do this because I care for Tobin, and I much prefer the prospect of a life with him than with any of our parents’ prospects for me.
Please don’t hate me. You always have my love. Try to take comfort in the thought that I will be living in a small cottage and growing white grapes for my living, while you will be the princess of Yegor.
With love,
Adrienne
Anna stared down at the letter as the contents slowly sank in. Adrienne would marry Tobin, and she would live in the cottage adjacent to their beloved family lands.
Folding the letter, Anna considered burning it, but then put it away in the drawer of her vanity. She didn’t blame or hate her sister. How could she? Adrienne only sought the same life that Anna had herself.
That night at dinner, Malcolm looked at her in concern. “Are you all right?”
She managed a smile. “I am fine.”
* * *
Malcolm’s brother lived longer than expected. He even outlived his wife.
But the year Lysander turned three and Jenelle turned thirteen, word arrived that the prince of Yegor was dead, and that Malcolm was the heir.
The family left their home in the keep, and they rode to Castle Yegor.
The following year was as busy as the first one of Anna’s marriage. The household of the castle and the management of the lands had been badly neglected, and Anna almost felt as if she was starting over. Malcolm was just as busy riding out to villages to meet their leaders and assure them they could come to him with any problems.