by Barb Hendee
All such thoughts vanished when we entered the dining hall to find Sebastian sitting at a table playing cards with a few guards.
“Sebastian,” I called, hurrying to him. “You’re back!”
He stood and I gave him a quick embrace, not caring what anyone else thought. I’d missed him. Rolf and I were partners, but Sebastian was a friend.
He smiled and hugged me back. Then he looked over at his father and brother. “And how fares the ambitious ones?” he asked. “Not too disappointed, I hope.”
“Not at all,” Rolf answered coolly. “I won the seat.”
Sebastian’s face went momentarily blank. Then he looked down at me as if I’d betrayed him. “He won the seat?”
I glanced away. I couldn’t meet his eyes, but I would find him later and explain everything. I’d not let Rolf abuse his power.
Sebastian stepped away from me and put one hand on the table.
“Will you not congratulate me, brother?” Rolf said.
Sebastian’s eyes were hard. “Congratulations.”
* * * *
We met again in the hall before dinner that night. Though I hadn’t found an opportunity to speak to Sebastian alone, he had calmed considerably and was even apologetic to Rolf.
“Forgive my loutish behavior,” he said. “You caught me off guard. I never thought you’d do it, not because you aren’t capable, just because I didn’t think those snobs would ever vote for one of us.”
Rolf watched him carefully and then shrugged. “It’s all right. I know the outcome seemed unlikely.”
There were two pots of tea on the table, one large and one small.
“We’ll have wine with dinner and drink a toast to you,” Sebastian said, “but I brought some of that orange-spiced tea you like so much back from Rennes.” He pointed to the smaller pot. None of the rest of us were fond of orange-spiced tea, but it was a favorite of Rolf’s. Then Sebastian gestured to the larger pot. “I had some black tea made up for everyone else.”
“Tea?” Jarrod asked. “Before dinner? I think not. Have the wine brought in.”
The idea of tea before dinner was unusual, but in truth, Rolf wasn’t all that fond of wine, and he loved spiced tea. Sebastian knew that. Was he making a peace offering?
Rolf blinked as if uncertain how to respond to his brother. “Thank you,” he said finally.
A flicker, something unreadable, passed through Sebastian’s eyes. Something was very wrong here.
I had to act.
I knew I shouldn’t.
What I was about to do broke every rule my father had taught me: Never read one of your own. Sebastian was a young lord of my own house now. It was wrong to invade his thoughts, but this didn’t stop me.
Focusing completely on Sebastian, I was hit by a wall of desperation. He’d depended on me, on what he’d both shown and told me, to keep Rolf off the council. He feared for the future of the nation with Rolf in power.
There was hemlock in the orange-spiced tea.
He was about to poison his own brother.
I pulled from his mind. Keeping my expression serene, I smiled at Rolf and walked toward the table. “Stay there. I’ll pour a cup for you.”
Reaching out, I lifted the pot and then pretended it was too heavy, and I dropped it. The lid came off, and the contents splashed all the over the floor. Beside me, Sebastian drew a sharp breath, but I looked back to Rolf.
“Oh, I am sorry. It was heavier than I anticipated. Should I have Ester make more?”
He waved me off. “No, let’s just sit down to dinner. I’m more hungry than anything else.”
I called Betty to clean up the mess and then serve dinner.
We all sat down, but I could feel Sebastian’s eyes on me.
* * * *
Long after Rolf had fallen asleep that night, I slipped from my bed, donned my silk dressing gown, and left my room.
This late, the keep was silent, but I walked as quietly as possible to the end of the passage right where it curved inside the tower. Although I had never before visited my planned destination, I knew where it was located, and I stopped outside of Sebastian’s room.
After taking a few seconds to gather myself, I knocked.
Nothing happened, but I didn’t leave, and I didn’t knock again.
Finally, the door opened, and he stood there dressed in nothing but a pair of loose black pants. He wasn’t surprised to see me.
Holding the door wider, he asked dryly, “Would you like to come in?”
“No.”
Being found inside his room would be disastrous. It would be bad enough if anyone saw us standing at his open door. But this couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
He raised one brow. “Then to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You tried to poison Rolf tonight. Don’t do it again.”
“What an imagination you have. Then again . . . one never knows what might come out of that kitchen.”
“I know you’re worried,” I rushed on. “But you needn’t be. I’ve spoken to Rolf and he listens to me. He’s trying other methods to fund his plans. He won’t have national taxes increased.”
At that, Sebastian dropped all pretense. “For now!” he whispered harshly. “What do you think he’ll be like in a year? Two years? You’ll have lost any hold on him.”
I shook my head, focusing on the scar on his collarbone. “I won’t.”
He leaned down closer until I could feel his breath. “You can’t be sure of that.”
“I can. And if you try to hurt him, I’ll know. I won’t say anything about tonight. I’ll keep the secret, but if you ever try anything like that again, I’ll know and I’ll speak out. Both your father and Rolf will believe me.”
“I’d be executed or at best disinherited. You would do that?”
“Yes.”
In that instant, our friendship died. A sharp pain struck me at the thought, but it passed.
Turning, I walked away. I had needed my friendship with Sebastian here, but Rolf was my husband.
My loyalty was to him.
* * * *
In the year that followed, my life changed a good deal.
I turned eighteen.
Rolf and I were now important people. We held small house parties at Volodane Hall, and I was allowed not only to make improvements to the guest quarters but also to take some areas reserved for storage and turn them into guest rooms.
We were invited to stay at great houses across the nation. Sometimes Jarrod came with us, but Sebastian never did.
I’d begun having all leftovers and other food supplies sent down the village, and Jarrod never questioned me. I think perhaps Rolf spoke to him on this matter. I’d also begun whispering to Rolf about easing taxes on his own people.
We had plenty of wealth ourselves, and our lands would be improved if the people were stronger. He listened.
Soon, I found that I could live without Sebastian’s friendship. We existed in a state of polite civility, and he began spending more time in Rennes now that he was no longer so necessary for Rolf to rise in position. I was lonely at first, but I adjusted, and Miriam was ever my friend.
I found myself content.
Only one thing caused true disharmony in our household.
It started off as a small concern, but it grew worse each month. Jarrod would study my stomach for signs that I carried a child. I began to dread the start of my courses. Each month, I fervently hoped they would not come, and that I would feel sick with breakfast and could tell Rolf that a child was coming. This didn’t happen. A year into our marriage, with him sleeping in my bed almost every night, and no baby had quickened in my womb.
If a marriage didn’t produce a child, it was common knowledge that the woman was at fault. If she should give birth only to girls and no sons, it was her
fault as well.
Another year passed, and I began to feel like a failure. Miriam consulted midwives, and I was told to eat everything from asparagus to wild game birds. Nothing worked.
Jarrod made cutting remarks about me being barren, but Rolf never said a word of reproach, and I sometimes even caught him looking at me in what appeared to be pity. That was worse.
Then one night, as I made my way down the passage toward the dining hall, I heard raised voices, and I stopped.
I couldn’t see Rolf or Jarrod through the archway, but I could hear them.
“Then put her aside!” Jarrod shouted. “She’s done what we needed for you. Now you need a son! I didn’t go through all this to have our line end! Find a wife who can give you a son.”
I trembled. What would become of me then? Would my father take me back? I shuddered at the thought.
“I’ll never put Megan aside,” Rolf returned. “Not for anything. You must know this isn’t her fault. In your heart, you must.”
I’d never heard him speak like that.
There was no answer at first, and then Jarrod asked tightly, “What do you mean?”
“You remember Bess. Of course you do. And Jane? And Eliza? I never made a secret of any mistress I took from the housemaids or the village. Father, Bess slept in my bed for the better part of a year, and there was no issue between us.” His own voice grew strained. “I’ve never made a child with any woman.”
I couldn’t imagine what it cost a man like Rolf to admit this.
“That means nothing,” Jarrod shot back.
“It does. You could pack the hall with new wives for me, and you wouldn’t have your grandson. At least not from me, and I wouldn’t pin much hope on Sebastian.”
“Then it was all for nothing,” Jarrod said more quietly.
“Not to me. I’ve been more fortunate than I ever could have hoped, and I won’t waste it wishing for something that will never happen. I plan to live the life I have.”
Who knew my husband had such thoughts and feelings?
I almost wept with relief. He didn’t blame me for his lack of a son, and more, he did not seem to care.
Resuming my path, I let my heels click more loudly so they would hear me coming.
“Good evening,” I said upon entering. “Ester’s prepared a turkey for dinner.”
* * * *
The years passed, and Rolf was voted as the head of the Council of Nobles. He often conferred with the king. With my guidance, he proved a good leader, and he never stopped conferring with me on important matters.
We did not have a passionate love.
We did not have a child.
But we had mutual respect and value of each other . . . and we had a good deal of power.
* * * *
The world around me vanished, and I found myself standing once again in the storage room of my parents’ manor, staring into the right panel of the three-tiered mirror.
I stumbled backward, fighting to take in air, thinking on all that I had just seen.
But the dark-haired woman was now looking out from the center panel.
“That would be my life with Rolf?” I gasped.
“That would be the outcome of the first choice,” she answered. “But now those memories will vanish, and you’ll go back to the beginning, to the wedding day once again, to live out the second choice.”
“Wait!” I cried. “I won’t remember anything of what I just saw?”
“To the beginning once more,” she answered. “To live out the second choice.”
My mind went blank, and the storage room vanished.
I found myself back in my family’s dining hall. It was my wedding day.
Chairs had been set up in rows, and guests were seated in them. I wore a gown of pale ivory and held my father’s arm as he walked me past the guests toward the far end of the hall.
Flowers in tall vases graced that same end, and a local magistrate stood there with a book in his hands.
Beside the magistrate stood Sebastian. I had chosen him.
He smiled.
The Second Choice
Sebastian
Chapter 9
The first time I laid eyes upon Volodane Hall, I was wet, damp, and struggling not to give way to misery.
Not long after my wedding at Chaumont, I’d been swept up in a journey north with my new husband, his father, both his brothers, and their retinue of guards. Sebastian told me the ride would take two days. He was the only one of the men who spoke to me. Kai pretended I didn’t exist, and Rolf seemed to seethe in quiet anger that I’d not chosen him.
My one comfort was that I’d been allowed to bring Miriam with me.
Another blessing to this arrangement was that as Jarrod paid for rooms at inns along the way, Miriam and I were given a room to ourselves, so as of yet, I’d not been expected to share a bed with Sebastian.
Though it was early summer, the farther north we traveled, the thicker grew the trees and the darker grew the sky. Near the end of the second day, a cold drizzle began to fall, soaking through my cloak.
We passed through a village and headed toward a rise.
“We’re almost there,” Sebastian said, riding beside me. Even in my misery, I noted he sounded worried as he added, “But you’ll need to brace yourself.”
As we came over the rise, I gained my first view in the fading light. My hands tensed on the reins as I fought to keep from expressing dismay. A squat keep loomed up from out of the surrounding forest. Even at a distance, its dark profile looked worn and ill kept.
Sebastian glanced at me. I was lost for words and could only imagine the inside.
Jarrod urged his mount forward, rode up to the gates, and called out. A moment later, a loud grinding sounded, like timber creaking across timber, and the gates opened. We rode inside to a small, muddy courtyard, and as the men began dismounting, the flurry of activity that followed kept me from taking in much more.
“Put your hands on my shoulders,” someone said from below.
Shivering and looking down, I saw Sebastian standing below. Without even thinking, I put my hands on his shoulders and let him lift me off the horse. He held me steady for a few moments.
Kai lifted Miriam down. Poor Miriam. What had I dragged her into?
Jarrod called back toward us, “Kai! Get the women inside.”
“As if we need him to tell us that,” Sebastian whispered in my ear. “Come on.”
Miriam and I were ushered across the courtyard to the main doors of the keep. Inside we passed through an entryway and into a wide passage. Neither of the men slowed down.
At the end of the passage, we emerged into a great hall with a fireplace large enough that I could have stood inside. In addition, half a dozen small spaniels came running toward us, wriggling and whining for attention.
One of them came running and jumped into Kai’s arms. He caught the dog and smiled as she licked his face.
“Lacey, stop.”
The fire in the hearth had been lit, but I couldn’t stop shivering.
Sebastian looked down at me in concern. Turning, he called to a guard down the passage, “You! Have your lady’s travel trunk carried up to her room.” Then he called, “Betty!”
A plump serving woman with a pleasant face came bustling forward. “Yes, my lord?”
“Show your lady up to her room.” He looked down to me again. “Go on and get out of those wet things. Put on your nightclothes if you wish. I’ll have food brought up.”
The thought of retiring to a private room and not having to come out again tonight filled me with relief.
Wordlessly, I nodded and took Miriam’s arm as we followed Betty from the hall.
I’d not seen much of my new home, but in the moment I didn’t care.
* * * *
Thankfully, the room I was given on the second floor of the single tower was not entirely awful.
It was a woman’s room.
The furniture was old, faded, and in need of a polish, but the four-poster bed was large, with a thick, eyelet comforter. The dressing table was well crafted from rich-toned mahogany. A matching wardrobe stood beside it. A moth-eaten tapestry covered one wall.
Miriam stood in the center of the room taking in the furnishings. Her face was pale and stricken.
One of my chests had been carried and set at the end of the bed. “See if I have a clean nightgown in there,” I said.
We hadn’t eaten since midday, and I longed for a cup of steaming tea, but I was more concerned with being warm and dry. Miriam began unlacing my travel gown.
“As soon we’ve finished with me,” I said, “we’ll see about your room and clothing. You need to get out of those wet things too.”
I couldn’t help wondering how often it rained here in the summer.
Together, we peeled off my clothing, and she slipped a dry nightgown over my head. I sighed in pleasure.
“Let me brush out your hair,” she said. “Tonight is . . .” she trailed off and then finished, “your first night in your husband’s home.”
My pleasure vanished. Would Sebastian expect to sleep in here? Of course, I’d known that side of things was coming, but until Miriam had spoken, I hadn’t wondered if it would be tonight.
“Come and sit,” she said from the dressing table.
I sat and let her brush out my hair until it fell in slightly damp waves down my back.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen if Sebastian came up. My mother hadn’t told me much about what to expect.
“Miriam?” I asked, wondering if she knew.
She never heard the rest of the question as the door cracked open. I could see its reflection in the mirror. Sebastian pushed it all the way open with one shoulder. He carried a tray himself.
“Dinner as promised,” he said cheerfully. “Such as it is.”
Miriam and I both froze at the sight of him standing there. When he saw our faces, his cheerful countenance faded. There was nothing threatening about him, but he was still a man standing in a bedroom chamber with two women who barely knew him.