Chargez-vous de votre vie. Avec résolution vivez vos jours.
Uniquement à vous le déroulement,
Pourtant la vie elle-même, c’est le don de Dieu.
—Désrosiers
Take your life in hand. And with firm purpose live it.
The living of it’s yours alone. But Life—only God can give it.
February 1759
Arles
“Relax,” Stefano insisted as he watched Guy pace back and forth across the library. “At least we know where she is.”
Guy stopped long enough to pour himself another glass of wine. He took a big swallow and set it back on the table.
“You just don’t see the danger, do you?” he said impatiently.
“What danger?” Stefano asked calmly. “She’s with the Abbot at Montmajour, correct?”
“The Abbot, my dear, just happens to be Richard’s brother.”
Stefano knew from Guy’s look that his words were meant as some sort of explanation, but the relationship meant absolutely nothing to him.
“And?”
And, Christina could mention that Richard is dead, which might come as quite a surprise to Robert. And if Robert saw fit to tell her Richard is still alive…if Christina found out I’d lied to her, that the man she loves still lived… Guy knew that if that happened, she would never come back to him. He studied Stefano. There on the sofa sat the very image of Richard. And Stefano, too, believed Richard to be dead. Guy saw no reason to tell him otherwise.
“And,” Guy said, instead, “I find the idea of my wife unburdening herself to Richard’s brother distasteful, at best.”
“Come here,” Stefano said, patting the silk cushion beside him. “I think you’re upsetting yourself for nothing.”
Guy joined him, lying down and putting his head in Stefano’s lap as he kicked his feet up over the end of the sofa. Stefano carefully smoothed Guy’s hair back, out of his eyes.
“There is absolutely nothing in that letter you read me that would indicate that Christina has ‘unburdened’ herself,” Stefano said, reasonably. “If she’d told the Abbot what was going on here, do you think he’d have written to tell you where she was?”
Guy wasn’t quite ready to be convinced there was no danger associated with Christina’s escape. But Stefano’s cool hand was marvelous against his skin and he could feel the tension slowly draining out of his neck and shoulders.
“Think about it,” Stefano urged, his tone soothing. “Even if she told him about our situation, do you think he’d believe her? Afterall, you two have been married for nearly seven years and she hasn’t registered any complaints yet, has she? I suspect the Abbot might think her slightly mad if she told him that you and she were sharing a bed with a man who looked exactly like his dead brother.”
Guy smiled briefly, imagining that.
“Well then, what are we going to do? Christina must come home.” Guy’s tone made it clear there was no alternative.
“I think she will. We have to give her a little more time. We’ve been pretty hard on her these last few weeks.”
Stefano had heard Guy say some terribly harsh things to Christina over the past month. Her passivity and lack of enthusiasm made her husband furious and he’d begun to treat her roughly again. Stefano had done his best to deflect Guy’s rage, but he wasn’t always successful. He’d tried several times to talk to Christina, to convince her to at least pretend an interest in their three-way relationship, but it was obvious she no longer cared what happened to her. To be honest, Stefano was surprised she’d gathered enough courage to run away to the abbey.
“I don’t understand why she isn’t happy with us,” Guy said with a noticeable lack of concern. He was much more interested in the sensation of Stefano’s fingers against his rough cheek. He closed his eyes as he felt the stirring of his response to the caress.
“I think she’ll find she misses us.” Misses me, Stefano thought, which brought a satisfied smile to his lips. He’d felt the depth of Christina’s passion their first night together and again the next night when they acted out that little scene in the stable. He’d also noted her reaction to her husband’s awkward lovemaking. It was obvious she preferred his own skillful touch, a preference which, curiously enough, seemed to delight Guy. Stefano was sure that, given enough time, he could have as much control over Christina as he had over her husband.
He smiled as he ran a finger lightly over Guy’s lips and watched them part.
When Christina awakened, it took her a minute to realize where she was. At first, the familiar hangings on her bed caused her to think she was at home, in her father’s house. Then, the sight of the stone walls that surrounded her made her think perhaps she was at the Conservatorio. When she turned over and saw her trunks stacked against the far wall, she realized she must be at Montmajour, but she couldn’t remember how she’d come to be there.
She finally got out of bed and put on her clothes, which had been carelessly tossed across the back of the little sofa from her father’s library. At the window she threw open the shutters to the midday sun, surprised how late she’d slept. As she looked across to the Abbot’s tower where she and Richard had played as children, she felt disoriented until she understood she must be in the pilgrims’ hospice on one of the upper floors of the new chapterhouse, part of the massive reconstruction project Robert had undertaken in the years since he’d taken charge of the great abbey.
There was a soft knock at the door and Robert appeared with a tray of bread and wine and a pale cheese with a wonderful aroma that suddenly made Christina acutely aware of her empty stomach. He set the tray down and came to where she stood, taking her hands in his.
“Are you feeling better?”
Christina looked at him in confusion. Seeing her expression, Robert put his arm around her shoulders and gently guided her to the sofa.
“You seemed quite upset yesterday afternoon when you arrived. Is there anything I can do?”
“No, I’m…” Christina frowned. She looked up into Robert’s eyes, their expression so gentle. “I’m not quite sure why I’m here.”
“Well, no matter. Just relax and make yourself comfortable. Perhaps we can talk about it tomorrow?” Her disconnected expression worried him. “Would you like me to send someone up to help you unpack?
Christina glanced at the trunks. She knew they were hers and vaguely remembered sending them to the abbey after her father died. Maybe that was why she had come. Maybe she wanted to arrange her things in this place? Yes, that must be it. She got up and went to one of the trunks, no longer thinking of trying to answer Robert’s question.
Before he left, he turned back to her. “Christina?” When he was sure he had her attention, he continued. “I want you to know that I told Guy you were here with us. I didn’t want him to worry.”
Christina stared at the door as it closed behind him. The mention of her husband’s name had been sufficient to remind her of exactly what had brought her to the abbey and it all came back to her in an unwelcome rush of disgust. The lid of the trunk fell closed and she sat down on it, clutching her stomach as a wave of nausea assailed her. Good God, had she finally escaped her intolerable situation, only to have a friend innocently disclose her whereabouts? What was she to do now? Surely Guy would come for her and force her to return to his house.
She began to wonder what, if anything, she could say to Robert that would persuade him to allow her to stay at the abbey. She smiled bitterly, thinking what his reaction might be if she simply told him the truth. But what was the use? He might not believe her, and even if he did, it would only shock and hurt him, and to what purpose? There was nothing Robert could do to help her except to convince Guy that she needed some time to herself. Afterall, a retreat was not an uncommon thing. Why shouldn’t she be allowed to spend some time in contemplation? Robert, of all people, might be able to make Guy believe such a thing coulld eventually yield a more obedient wife.
Christina went back to unpacking. A few of her favorite books, some linens, three of her older, simpler dresses—all found places in her new sanctuary. As she put things away, she began to feel more secure in the unfamiliar surroundings. She leaned the portraits of herself and her family against the wall on both sides of the fireplace, thinking she must ask Robert to have someone help her hang them.
Returning to the trunk, she pulled out one of two silk comforters to reveal the layer of treasures she’d packed so carefully between them. She knelt down on the cold stone floor and looked at the collection of objects nestled in the folds of fabric, feeling an overwhelming urge to weep. Each one of them had come from Richard, a gift or memento of one sort or another, each a reminder of a life that now seemed very far away, and of a future which no longer existed.
She had a difficult time falling asleep that night, but when she did, she dreamt of Richard. They were together, happy, husband and wife. He led her to their bed where he kissed her passionately, but as the kiss ended, the eyes that gazed into hers were no longer Richard’s. They were Stefano’s.
Just after Terce the next morning, Christina met Robert in his study on the second floor of the tower. It was a large room with windows offering a fine view of the orchards beyond the little hill on which the abbey sat, the trees still bare though the warm morning air carried a promise of the spring to come. Despite the fresh air and sunlight, the room smelled of dust and old leather, testament to the presence of the several thousand books that filled the shelves on all four walls.
“You’re looking much better this morning,” Robert said, motioning her to one of the chairs that faced the ancient oak table he used as a desk.
Christina smiled at him, but she didn’t know where to begin.
Robert sensed her discomfort and smiled sympathetically. “Christina, please don’t look so distressed. You know I care about you. I hope you also know I’ll help you any way I can.”
“Please don’t make me go home. Not now. Not yet.” Not ever.
“My dear, I have no intention of making you do anything. You can stay with us as long as you like.”
“But you wrote to Guy…”
“I did, indeed. But I only wanted to let him know where you were and that you were safe. You weren’t at all yourself when you arrived and you didn’t seem able to tell me why you were here. Do you want to tell me now?”
Christina just stared at him. She would have given anything to tell him why she was there, but she knew she couldn’t. It was a burden she just couldn’t share with him. At the same time, she had to say something, something that would keep him from worrying about her.
“I’m having a little trouble at home.”
Robert waited for her to go on. “Nothing serious, I hope?” he offered, though he could see by the look in her eyes that it was, indeed, serious. “Forgive me, Christina, but is it another woman?” That was certainly the most common complaint he’d heard from any number of unhappy wives over the years. Perhaps Christina, raised primarily in the pristine atmosphere of the convent conservatorio, didn’t realize how sadly universal that particular problem was.
Christina sighed, thinking how grateful she would have been if that were the case. How simple if Guy’s attention had been claimed by another woman. That, at least, would have afforded her some measure of peace. She could have even endured her husband’s love for another man if he hadn’t forced her to become involved.
Robert misinterpreted Christina’s expression, and assumed he’d discovered her problem.
“I’m sorry, my dear, truly. And I’m not at all pleased to hear it. I expected better of Guy. But surely you understand it’s not unusual for men to tire of their wives, no matter how devoted, and seek alliances elsewhere? You mustn’t blame yourself.” Poor Christina, would I be sitting here talking to her like this if she’d wed Richard? Somehow, he doubted it.
Christina twisted the little garnet ring around and around on her finger. Robert got up and went to sit beside her, gently taking one of her hands in his. They felt very fragile, very small. She looked up at him, with an expression that concealed the fact that she found his eyes, so similar to Richard’s, painful to look at.
“A wife’s lot is sometimes a difficult one,” he went on. “The Bible tells us that a wife must submit to her husband in all things.”
“In all things?” Christina repeated the words numbly, knowing full well what his answer would be. She wondered if the easily-mouthed command was really meant to include the vile acts her husband expected of her.
“Yes.” What other choice could he, as her spiritual advisor, offer her? “If it’s any comfort to you, men who stray often return to their wives more devoted than before.” He knew the words were empty and he found himself, not for the first time, regretting the day she and his brother had been separated.
Christina remained silent.
“I’d be happy to confess you, Christina. Perhaps you’d find some comfort in it?” It was a last resort. He could see that his words were having little effect.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Her religion had always been an important part of her life, her faith the only thing that had sustained her in Richard’s absence. Now, there was no comfort left to her at all.
Robert looked at her, sadly. “I’m sorry, too. But you may change your mind. And if there’s anything I can do for you, I will. Believe it.”
As he watched her go, his thoughts turned to Richard. He’d believed his brother content in his relationship with Arabella when he’d left them on Corsica, but he was beginning to wonder if that was true. It had been more than a year since his visit and they’d still not wed.
Robert shook his head as he returned to the work that littered his desk, wondering how two lives, as carefully planned as Richard and Christina’s had seemed, could go so terribly wrong.
The days passed and Christina began to relax into the peaceful life at the great abbey. There were only two other pilgrims there: an ancient, regal looking woman and a well-dressed, but very thin and haunted-looking man. They, like Christina, kept to themselves except for an occasional nod as they passed in the hallways or the cloister. That suited Christina perfectly. She found the isolation and the silence profoundly peaceful.
Every afternoon, Christina followed the path to the little chapel of Ste. Croix nestled in the grove just below the tower. She could sit alone in the quiet darkness of the tiny Romanesque building and think of the many times she and Richard had played out their wedding there when she was small. Richard, a mature young man of twelve, had been so patient with her. But though she felt an enormous sense of peace and tranquility when she was there, she still couldn’t bring herself to pray for anything beyond a blessing for her beloved Richard’s soul.
Christina’s quiet retreat came to an abrupt end two weeks later when her worst fears were realized. For the second time, she had missed her monthly courses. She was pregnant.
Another week passed as she resolved to make one last attempt to save her marriage. She bade Robert goodbye and returned to Guy’s house.
When she arrived, she found Guy and Stefano in the library. She knocked on the door and Guy answered it after a brief delay that was accompanied by muffled voices and hurried movements.
“Christina!” Guy brushed the hair out of his face and straightened his shirt nervously, awkwardly reaching for her hand as he leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Christina smelled the liquor on his breath and felt the heat in his hand.
“I’m so glad you’ve come home. We were worried about you.”
She looked past him to Stefano, who hadn’t moved from the sofa. Though he didn’t get up, he turned and smiled at her.
“I…I must speak to you before supper,” she said to Guy. Her voice was unsteady.
“Of course, my dear.”
“Alone.” She turned abruptly, and headed for the stairs.
Guy closed the door and returned to Stefano, resuming his place on the floor.
“You see,” Stefano said, smiling as he put his hands to Guy’s cheeks. “I told you she’d be back.”
Christina paced nervously back and forth across her room rehearsing, as she had for the last two days, the things she would say to her husband. Finally, he arrived. He’d cleaned up and dressed for supper and his eyes seemed clearer. He went to her immediately and took her hands.
“I’m so happy you’ve come home, Christina. I’ve missed you more than you might believe.” It was all he could do to keep from taking her in his arms, but slowly she withdrew her hands.
“Guy, I want you to send Stefano away.”
He looked at her, wondering what on earth could make her ask such a thing. After all he’d gone through to make Stefano a part of their lives, why would she want to send him away? Hadn’t he returned her lost Richard to her?
“I’m begging you,” Christina said quietly. “It’s our only chance.”
“Our only chance for what?” Guy strove to keep his voice calm and his temper under control. He was so happy that she’d come home and he was doing his best to try and understand what she was talking about.
“Our only chance to be a family.”
“Christina…”
“I’m pregnant,” she said firmly. “We can be a family—a real family, now. But you must send Stefano away.”
Guy’s was stunned. A baby, after all these years? Is it possible? And more importantly, did he want a child? In the beginning, he’d hoped to have children. It seemed at the time as though it would have been his final triumph over Richard. But now…now things were different. Now, he had Stefano.
“You’re sure?” he asked quietly, playing for time.
“Is that all you can say? Of course I’m sure.” Guy wasn’t responding as she’d hoped. “Guy, please. Don’t you see? This is our last chance. It’s the only way we can make a worthwhile life for ourselves. For us and for the child.” She reached for his hand then and pressed it to her cheek as she felt the sting of tears. “Please. I’ll do anything you ask. Just send Stefano away.”
Guy found himself enjoying her change of attitude. He tenderly stroked her hair.
“Don’t upset yourself, Christina. This news is rather sudden. I’m afraid I’ll need a little time to think.” He kissed her forehead. “Dry your tears and come down to supper.” With that, he left her.
Christina joined them in the dining room a half an hour later. Guy was anxious to see how she’d react to Stefano, and he wasn’t disappointed. She was cool, but her manner turned to ice when Stefano proposed a toast to the baby. She cast a disappointed look in Guy’s direction. Had she really thought he wouldn’t share the news with Stefano? The rest of the meal went smoothly, though Christina said little and excused herself early.
The sight of Stefano had thrown all her emotions into turmoil once again. She knew she had to find some way to make Guy send him away and at the same time realized it might not be possible. As she got ready for bed, she wondered if Guy would come to her. She could only hope that if he came, he would come alone.
There was a knock at the door and she turned, but the man who entered her bedroom was not her husband. Stefano closed the door quietly. As he came toward her, Christina immediately retreated to the far side of the bed, shivering in spite of the warmth from the small fire burning in the hearth. Stefano stopped in the middle of the room.
“Oh, Christina…don’t be that way,” he said, shaking his head. He was disappointed. This was not the warm welcome he’d hoped to receive when they were finally alone together. Then he moved quickly, stepping around the end of the bed and taking her firmly by the arms. He looked at her for a moment and then embraced her. “Thank God you’ve come back to us,” he whispered.
Christina struggled to free herself. “I haven’t come back to you. I’ve come back to my husband!”
“Do you expect me to believe that?” He studied her expression of indignation. “Oh, my dear, we both know that’s not true.” He started to run the tips of his fingers over her cheek, but she slapped his hand away.
“Have you no decency?” she asked from between clenched teeth.
Stefano laughed.“Decency? You stand there, pregnant with the child of your husband’s lover, and talk of decency?”
Christina stared at him, horrified. Somehow, she had simply not considered that the child could be Stefano’s.
He read her expression correctly. “Really, Christina, could it be otherwise? In all these years Guy’s never been able to give you a child. I’d have thought you’d be grateful to me for that, if nothing else.” He gave her a meaningful look as he took her trembling hands and lifted them to his lips. “Please don’t look so distraught. Remember, our child will certainly look like any child you would have had with Richard.”
Christina pulled away, sickened by his words, and clutched at the bedpost for support. He put his hands on her shoulders for a moment, then brushed her long, dark hair aside and gently kissed the back of her neck, just above the edge of her gown.
“Would you like me to stay with you tonight, Christina?” His voice was soft, his words suggesting things she couldn’t bear to remember, even as his lips tenderly reminded her of his skill as a lover.
“I think that under the circumstances, I’m the one she should be with tonight,” Guy said from the doorway, knowing neither of them had heard him come in.
Christina went to him immediately. “Yes, Guy, please. Send him away.” She clung to his sleeve.
Stefano’s expression was one of surprised acquiescence as he left them, but the smug look on Guy’s face as he passed did not please him. Christina’s return complicated his relationship with Guy. Her pregnancy endangered all he’d worked so hard to achieve. Somehow, he must find a way to turn this new development to his advantage.
The next morning, Guy and Stefano walked together to the warehouse. For a long while, Guy said nothing. It was obvious something was on his mind. When he finally spoke, his tone was brisk and decisive.
“I think that for the time being, it would be best if you left Christina alone. I’m afraid she still finds our relationship upsetting.”
Stefano watched him, wondering what was behind the pronouncement. Guy’s expression was inscrutable and Stefano gave up.
“You’re right, I’m sure. I admit, she was an amusing diversion, but you know where my real feelings lie.” He briefly laid a hand on Guy’s arm for emphasis. “I do, however, think that a little bonus of some sort might be appropriate.”
Guy looked at him, his face revealing nothing. Uncomfortable, Stefano felt obliged to elaborate.
“Well, I think I’ve performed well, done everything you asked of me and now that I’ve caused her to turn to you and away from me, and therefore away from Richard…well…it should please you.” The statement, begun with confidence, ended weakly under Guy’s icy gaze.
“And how, exactly, do you feel you’ve accomplished that?”
Guy’s tone was matter-of-fact and Stefano made the mistake of being a little too flip with his answer. “Well, really…by getting her pregnant, of course.”
“What did you say?” Guy asked calmly.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Stefano’s impatience got the better of him. “I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it? You’ve been married to her for some time and there’ve been no children. Three months after I turn up in her bed, she’s pregnant. I’m just suggesting that sort of success may well deserve some compensation.”
Without any warning Guy grabbed him by the lace at his throat and flung him up against the nearest building. “You bastard!”
Guy’s tone was as cold as the stones against his back and Stefano realized he’d made a mistake. Nevertheless, he was angry. Who did Guy think he was? He had no right to treat him that way, and in public, at that. Passersby were beginning to stare.
Guy, unconcerned by the looks they were getting, refused to loosen his grip.
“The child is mine and there’s nothing you can do to change that,” Stefano said defensively. “I know it, your wife knows it, and soon the whole town will know it since it’s bound to look far more like Richard than like you.”
After a moment, Guy began to smile and his fingers loosened on Stefano’s jabot. He smoothed the younger man’s coat, picking a piece of nonexistent lint from his shoulder. His expression softened.
“Maybe Christina’s right. Maybe I should send you away,” Guy said lightly.
The change in Guy was disconcerting and Stefano realized he was in danger of losing his comfortable lifestyle…if not more.
“Don’t you think you might miss me?” he asked softly. “Just a little?” He reached out for him, but Guy grabbed his wrist, his thumb pressing painfully against the heel of Stefano’s hand.
“Oh yes, I’d miss you. But I’m beginning to think about turning you in to the police, as Richard. I might enjoy seeing you hang, even more.”
Stefano froze. He remembered all too well his first day in Arles. He had been in the city less than two hours before the police picked him up and escorted him to the Hôtel de Ville for questioning. It was some time before Guy arrived and persuaded the authorities that he was not, in fact, the Baron’s son who was still wanted for questioning about the murder of a young man.
Guy walked away from him. Recovering quickly, Stefano followed, feeling his prospects for a bright and carefree future fading before his eyes.
“But you’ve already convinced them I’m not Richard,” he said, as he caught up with Guy. He hoped he sounded unconcerned by Guy’s threat. “Besides, he’s dead, isn’t he? Surely they know that?”
Guy cast a smug sideways glance in his direction.
“They’ve been told that by several reliable sources, but no one ever found the body. And the old Baron has become quite confused and still believes his son is alive.” Guy smiled when he reached the gate to the warehouse. “You know, I suspect even the Baron would swear you were his son, if we asked him.”
Stefano had no reason to doubt Guy’s words. Hadn’t Christina’s father believed him to be Richard?
From that moment on, the relationship between the two men changed. Guy became more aggressive, displaying a new penchant for violence. Stefano had seen the results of Guy’s temper with Christina, something not uncommon in a man who preferred the company of other men. But now Guy was no longer content to be pampered and petted by Stefano. He seemed anxious to punish Stefano for fathering Christina’s child. While he was confident of his own physical strength in any contest with Guy, it was obvious to Stefano that he’d lost control of the situation.
As Guy’s behavior with Stefano changed, so it changed with Christina. He was more thoughtful and considerate than ever before and she began to hope, once again. While he’d not yet sent Stefano away, she could tell that the handsome young man no longer had the same hold on her husband. The frequency of Stefano’s absences increased and Christina was less often forced to endure his company.
A week later, Stefano returned from the warehouse early in the afternoon, determined to confront Christina. He found her in the salon and when it was obvious she had no intention of talking to him, he blocked the door to prevent her leaving. Christina retreated to one of the chairs that flanked the fireplace, and sat down with her back to him.
“I think it’s time we had a little talk,” he said, at the same time remembering her passion that night in Aix. It was certainly too bad their life together couldn’t have gone on as Guy had intended.
“I have nothing to say to you,” she replied coldly.
“But I have something to say to you. I’m beginning to believe it might be best for all concerned if I left Arles.”
Christina, suspicious of his motives, said nothing. She knew she was not likely to achieve her goal of ridding them of Stefano so easily. She sat very still, waiting.
“Your husband’s attitude toward me has changed, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” He paused, but she remined silent. “And, of course, it’s obvious that you don’t want me here.”
“Are you surprised?” she asked bitterly.
“I was kind to you, Christina.”
“You betrayed me!” She stood and whirled to face him, her clenched fists emphasizing her anger, her resolve to control her emotions dissolving as she glared at him.
“I gave you a child.” Stefano smiled, gratified by her response. Would she be this angry if she didn’t care for him? “That should be worth something to you.”
“What do you want?”
“I need money. It’s little enough to ask, considering all I’ve done for you.”
Christina looked at him and found his expression of smug satisfaction disgusting. Still, if it was possible that he really would leave, it would be worth a great deal.
“How do I know you’ll leave?”
“Believe me, I have no wish to see your husband make good his threats, but I seem to find myself a little short of cash.” He smiled. “Traveling is so expensive.”
Three days later, Christina gave him the sum he’d named. Now she would have a chance to pull her marriage together and create a family for her child. She prayed she’d done the right thing.
It was two days more before Guy realized Stefano had gone. A note was delivered to the house one evening after supper. In it Stefano said he’d miss him terribly, but Guy should concern himself with the coming child. He also casually mentioned the fact the Christina had been the one to provide him with the means necessary for his departure.
Guy was angry, but his new feelings for his wife confused him. Perhaps she was right. With Stefano gone they might have a chance to be a family. But she’d gone too far. It was wrong of her to bribe Stefano. Guy knew he could have sent him away at any time and certainly without any money. He just wasn’t sure he wanted Stefano to leave. Christina had nearly succeeded in convincing him that the three of them could no longer remain under the same roof, but other arrangements could have been made.
Determined to let Christina know her actions did not please him in the least, Guy found it necessary to bolster his resolve with a sizeable quantity of cognac before confronting her.
“You had no right to send him away,” Guy said quietly as he entered her room.
Christina could tell by Guy’s expression that Stefano was finally gone. The genuine note of grief in Guy’s voice touched her and she went to him, putting her arms around his waist.
“I had to, can’t you see that? It’s our only chance, Guy.”
As she looked up at him, his eyes filled with tears.
“But he was mine! He loved me!” Guy broke down and cried.
Christina was so disconcerted by this behavior that she could do nothing but attempt to comfort him.
“It’s all right,” she said gently, unable to bring herself to mouth the obvious response and tell him she loved him, too. “You’ll have me to love and our child. Oh, Guy, it will be all right. I promise. Just give it a chance.” She didn’t know what to say. Of all the reactions she’d imagined, she could never have imagined this. He wept like a child who’d lost a favorite pet and she felt genuinely sorry for him.
“Come to bed,” she said, beginning to unbutton his shirt. She was sure if she could get him to sleep, the effect of the alcohol would wear off and give him a better perspective. Surely he would see they were well rid of Stefano.
She finally got him undressed and into bed. As she gently stroked his hair, she felt him reach for the ribbon at the neck of her gown. He untied it slowly and then carefully pushed it down, exposing her breast. She felt his passion for her grow as his mouth moved over her, slowly, gently, with more tenderness than he had ever shown her.
“You see, I can please you,” she whispered as she closed her eyes and offered a fervent prayer it was true. “You don’t need Stefano.”
At the mention of Stefano’s name, Guy felt his desire wilt. He continued to kiss her, but he was unable to recapture the emotions he’d felt only moments before. It made him furious and he slapped her, hard.
“Don’t you ever mention his name. Do you hear me?” He was wild with anger. He hit her again, and again. What had she done to him? His body had never betrayed him before. It was all her fault. He quickly gathered up his clothes and left the room.
And things did not improve. Guy decided that if Christina wished to replace Stefano in his affections, then he’d use her accordingly. But he was unable to satisfy himself with her, even in that fashion, and so his anger and frustration led to more liquor, more failures, followed by more beatings.
Any hope Christina might have had of salvaging their relationship disappeared forever.
The ancient Benedictine Abbey of Montmajour stood on high ground, just a few miles outside the walls of the city of Arles. The top of its imposing tower offered a fine view of the surrounding area, once swampland, now converted to rich farmland by the diligent work of its monks over the centuries. And Robert made a point of climbing the one hundred and twenty-four steps to the top of the tower daily to admire the fruits of their labor.
He had spent his entire adult life surrounded by the impenetrable walls of Montmajour and he took his strength from them. He’d joined the Church at the age of twenty-two after completing his medical studies and his skills were put to the ultimate test just two years later when plague struck Provence. His selfless efforts in treating the victims of that dread disease earned him great respect and consequently led to his being offered the position of Abbot after only thirteen years in the order. Robert did not delude himself. His sudden change of position was also because the population of the abbey, itself, had been decimated by the epidemic.
But his extraordinary efforts on behalf of the afflicted had not been enough to save the life of his older brother, Jérôme. Jérôme, his father’s firstborn, his father’s pride and joy, who had been so much like Richard.
As Abbot, Robert had undertaken some extremely ambitious building projects including the restoration of many of the older parts of the abbey and under his direction, it was enjoying the most prosperous period it had known since its founding in the tenth century.
And there’s still so very much to do, he thought, as he sat in his office, idly gazing out at the garden. The fruit trees were in full bloom and the yearly appearance of the fragrant blossoms never failed to give him a feeling of renewal, even after so many years.
His attention returned to the page before him, a letter from Grégoire who was studying in Rome. Robert was so much older than the children of his father’s second marriage that he had felt more uncle to them than brother. He was proud of their accomplishments. What wonderful adults they’d all become! Richard, in spite of his ill-fated love for Christina, seemed content in his life with Arabella and did a magnificent job managing the business. And Cybelle seemed happier than ever, all four of her children were bright and healthy and he suspected her contentment—as well as her last two children—were the consequence of Lauro becoming a permanent part of their household. Robert smiled. He didn’t begrudge Cybelle her happiness, though he kept his rather liberal views on love and marriage to himself.
There was a soft knock at the door. Robert looked up at the sour-faced man who served as his personal secretary, the cousin of the priest who had mistreated Arabella. Despite the man’s excellent family connections, Robert had always found Dom Louis more ambitious than devout. By giving him the position as his secretary, he’d hoped to guide him toward a more spiritual path. Robert was undecided if he was making any progress in that direction.
Though he was looking questioningly at Dom Louis, the man said nothing.
“There was something?” Robert prompted.
“Yes, My Lord. Madame Jonvaux requests an interview.”
Robert couldn’t hide his surprise. “Why, of course…” He rose to greet Christina as the monk ushered her through the door, wondering what might have brought her back to them so soon. He offered her a cheerful smile as she entered.
“My dear, how good to see you!” He crossed the room to meet her, taking her hand and leading her to one of the chairs that faced the desk. He was concerned as she leaned heavily on his arm and puzzled by the veil that hid her face. “But what brings you?” he asked as he helped her to sit. Had her difficulties with Guy proved insurmountable?
“I’m sorry to bother you…I had nowhere else to turn,” she said wearily.
Christina’s entire demeanor indicated a problem far beyond that of a straying husband.
“Can I get you some wine?”
“Wine? Oh, yes…Thank you.” She was lost. She had no idea what she was going to say to him.
Though Christina had given up any hope of saving her marriage, she was greatly concerned about her child. The baby had come to represent her only hope for the future. The new life she carried engendered fierce protective feelings that had given her the strength to leave her husband and seek temporary sanctuary at the abbey. No matter how difficult it might prove to be, she was determined to make a new life for herself and the child.
“Father, I’m pregnant.” Her voice was trembling and the words slipped out more suddenly than she’d intended.
Robert nearly missed the glass as he poured the wine from the decanter. Pregnant? After all these years?
“Congratulations, my dear,” he said, cautiously. “A happy event, surely?” He did his best to keep his tone of voice even.
“Perhaps under other circumstances, but…” Her voice trailed off and it took her a moment to gather enough courage to speak again. “As things are, I fear for the child’s safety…and for my own.”
Robert handed her the glass. “Have you told your husband?”
Her hand began to tremble and she nearly spilled the wine as she remembered their last encounter in the early hours of that same morning.
“He knows.”
Robert, wanting to give her time to tell him what had happened, offered to help her off with her cape. She stood up shakily and set the glass on his desk. As she removed her veil, Robert saw her black eye and the bruises on her cheek.
“Christina! Dear girl, are you all right?” Robert was shocked. When they had talked during her last visit, Christina had said nothing to make him believe that Guy abused her physically. And if not Guy, then how had this happened?
As she looked at him, her defenses collapsed. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she opened her mouth to speak. Before she could utter a word, pain like the point of a knife shot through her. She bent forward, clutching her abdomen. The light in the room seemed to fade and Christina, no longer willing or able to resist, let the darkness take her.
Robert sat in a chair beside Christina’s bed. She looked frail as she lay back against the big pillows, her eyes closed, her delicate features marred by the bruises that covered one side of her face. There was no sound in the room except the quiet movements of two monks as they finished cleaning up the last of the evidence of her miscarriage.
“Thank you,” Robert said quietly to the men as they left.
For the first time in nearly seven years, Robert forced himself to really look at Christina. She had become a mere shadow of the beautiful young woman he remembered. Had she seemed so frail when she’d last come to them?
“Christina…”
She opened her eyes and tried to smile. She was exhausted. Robert looked so austere in his somber black robes, which only accentuated the concern on his face.
“Please don’t trouble yourself. It was for the best.” Christina’s voice was shaky. She felt so weak. “You have no idea how grateful I am that I was here when it happened.”
“There must be something I can do for you. Anything? You can’t begin to imagine how ineffectual I feel.”
“Dear Robert…You’ve done so much already. I’m very grateful.”
He hesitated to question her, but felt he must know what had caused this terrible misfortune. He was beginning to think he might have misjudged the gravity of her domestic problems.
“Christina, tell me what happened.”
She studied his face. What could this kind, gentle man know of the horrors she’d endured at Guy’s hands? And why burden him? Nothing mattered anymore. With Richard gone, and now the baby, there was really no point to any of it—her marriage, her future, her life.
“It’s really not important now, is it?” She tried to smile, but it only caused the tears to overflow and slide down her cheeks.
Robert took a deep breath and stood up. He went to the tall, arched window that looked down toward the chapel of Ste. Croix. It was the same peaceful view he saw from that side of his office two floors below.
“Perhaps you should have accepted Grégoire’s proposal, afterall,” he said quietly. He clearly remembered the day the Grégré had confided in him, the same day he had told him that he wanted to join the Church. It seemed so very long ago.
Christina sighed, closing her eyes. Poor Robert. If only he knew how many times she’d thought the same thing. At least Grégré cared for her and would have been gentle with her. And yet, if she’d accepted him that day, she and Richard would never have had their one night together. The memories of that night and all the other times she had been with her beloved Richard were the only things that had kept her alive since they were separated. Until the baby. Now, even that small hope had been taken from her.
“I never could have made Grégré happy,” she said softly. “We both know that. It was always Richard…if only he were still alive…if only I had the comfort of knowing he was happy somewhere…” Her throat constricted and she couldn’t go on.
Robert turned back to face her. Why did she think his brother dead? He’d had a letter from Richard only two days ago. It was impossible that anything could have happened to Richard without his knowledge.
“Christina, Richard…”
She stopped him, remembering the letter he had sent in response to her condolences after Richard’s death and his wish that his brother’s name never be mentioned again. It had seemed so distant, so unlike Robert.
“I’m sorry. We’ve never talked about it…but when Guy brought that man to me…”
“What man?”
“What?” The painful memories had distracted her and it took an effort of will to return her attention to Robert. “Oh…the man from the ship, the one who was there when Richard was wounded.” Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes.
“Christina…”
“Forgive me, please.” She reached out her hand to him and he returned to her side. She was so tired. “It’s just that it was all so senseless. Richard never had to leave Arles. He couldn’t have killed Marco. He was with me that night in the stable…all night.”
My God, did Christina and Richard consummate their love? While he had never for a moment doubted his brother’s innocence, had there been proof all along?
“My dear, do you realize what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying that Richard was innocent and yet he left. He left his home and his family…and he left me.”
Robert bowed his head and closed his eyes. How in God’s name had this happened? Has Richard’s exile from his family and from the woman he loves all been for nothing? He knew Richard and their father had argued before Richard’s departure, and he suspected Richard never mentioned he’d been with Christina that night. Was that the real reason he’d left her behind: an unwillingness to drag her through the humiliation of being a witness on his behalf? But had the only alternative been to leave her?
Robert shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It was Christina who deserved his attention now. Will she find comfort in the news that Richard is alive, or will that knowledge cause her even more pain? And might it somehow, in some way, upset the new life my brother seems to have made for himself with Arabella?
“Christina…”
She looked at him expectantly, but the sight of that once beautiful face, now thin and pale beneath the bruises, stopped him. He was determined not to add to her suffering.
“One mustn’t dwell on the past,” he offered lamely.
He saw the disappointment in her eyes in the brief moment before her expression hardened and she withdrew her hand.
“One must also take happiness where one finds it…and mine is there. It’s surely not in the future.” Christina closed her eyes, shutting out Robert and the rest of her very sad and very lonely world.
“Surely you’re not telling me you intend to prevent me seeing my wife?”
Guy’s tone of voice was even, but as he leaned across the desk, Robert found his posture menacing.
“No, of course not,” Robert assured him, gesturing for him to take a seat.
Guy sat down and offered Robert a pleasant smile. “Well?”
“I just wanted to be sure you understand: I’m seriously concerned about Christina.”
“I’m concerned about her, too. As soon as my housekeeper’s letter reached me, I returned from Venice.”
“You were in Venice?” Robert had wondered why he’d heard nothing from Guy since Christina’s arrival nearly a month earlier.
“Of course. This damned war is making it extremely difficult to transport goods by water. I’ve been trying to arrange some alternatives. My housekeeper wrote me immediately about the accident, and naturally she was concerned because Christina left without a word as to where she was going.”
“The accident?”
Guy gave him an exasperated look. “Christina fell down the stairs. According to Agnes she was badly bruised. Surely, you noticed?”
“I noticed,” Robert said, his tone non-committal.
“Didn’t she tell you what happened?”
Robert found Guy’s pale eyes disconcerting, through he couldn’t have said why.
“She didn’t mention where she’d gotten them and I didn’t ask.”
Guy seemed to relax a bit. “Of course I was worried about the baby, but Agnes said she seemed to be all right.” He paused, his eyes studying Robert’s. “She is all right?”
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you,” Robert said quietly. “Christina’s lost the baby.”
Guy grabbed the arms of the chair and pulled himself forward. “But Christina…?”
“She’s fine.”
Guy resettled himself in the chair. He stared at the floor for a moment, but when he looked at Robert again his eyes were moist. He reached for his handkerchief and discreetly blew his nose.
“Forgive me. It’s just that we were so excited about a child. It seemed such a miracle after all these years. To tell you the truth, I thought the baby would be good for Christina. She hasn’t been herself lately.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if I’m beginning to imagine
things.” Guy smiled weakly and got up. He went to the window and looked out, wiping his eyes once again before returning his handkerchief to his pocket. “It all started about five years ago, when Richard was hurt. You remember?”
Robert nodded.
“One of the men from the ships came to our house and told Christina that Richard had been wounded and had died. Of course she was terribly upset, so I made some inquiries of my own and finally found out that though he had indeed been wounded, he’d recovered. In fact, he seemed to be living with some woman, there in Bonifacio.”
Guy cast a brief, but penetrating look in Robert’s direction, trying detect any indication that Christina had mentioned Richard’s “death.” Robert was unreadable.
“I tried to tell Christina that Richard was alive, but she refused to believe me. She became hysterical, insisting he was dead. To be quite honest, I decided it was easier to let her believe that. Richard abandoning her the way he did was extremely difficult for her and once she thought him dead, she seemed to be able to forget about her girlhood infatuation and concentrate on our life together. It also relieved her of the burden of knowing the man she’d loved had killed her brother.” Guy realized Robert was staring at him, the warmth suddenly gone from his dark eyes.
“Forgive me, Robert,” Guy said quickly. “I, for one, never believed that Richard could have killed Marco. But the evidence at the time certainly made it look that way and well…let’s just say that even the accusation was hard on Christina.”
Guy came back and sat down again. “For whatever reason, after that Christina went through an understandable period of grief. And then she slowly seemed to recover and take an active part in our marriage. She seemed quite happy, in fact.” Guy paused as though he were finding it difficult to go on.
“But?” Robert prompted.
“But then…about two years ago, she would have periods where she seemed to be completely confused. At first, it was minor things and then months would pass when she was fine. But it began to happen more often and sometimes she would accuse me of terrible things, often telling the housekeeper of things I had supposedly done to her when I wasn’t even in the country. Sometimes this would only last for a few hours and then she would be herself again. At other times, her disorientation would last several days. I’m sorry to say the episodes have become more frequent since her father’s death. Her delusions are becoming much more serious. It was during one of those periods that she came to you in February.”
“Is that why you didn’t come for her then?”
“Yes. I thought perhaps a rest here, away from me and from the house, might give her some sort of peace. And she was much better when she returned.” Guy looked at Robert, almost as if he were afraid to speak. “Did she say anything peculiar then? About me, I mean, or our situation at home?”
“No. In fact she said very little. She seemed to want to be alone and I respected her wishes.”
Guy nodded. “She was excited about the baby. We both were, and I was beginning to believe her pregnancy might be the solution to the problem. Now, this…” Guy shook his head.
Robert didn’t know what to think. Was it possible Christina had fallen? He would certainly rather believe her bruises were the result of an accident than think that Guy could have brutalized her. But if there was an accident—if Guy was telling the truth—it would mean Christina might be having some mental problems. And if she refused to confide in him, how could he know?
“Guy, there are two things I’d like you to consider.”
Guy’s expression was hard to read, but Robert continued.
“First, I would like you to allow Christina to stay with us for another week or so. She’s still quite weak.”
“And?”
“And, I was wondering when you would be traveling again.”
“I plan to return to Venice sometime in September.” Guy frowned. “I’ve been hesitant to make the arrangements because I wanted to wait until the baby arrived. I’m afraid this next trip will be five or six months and I wanted to assure myself that Christina and the baby were safe before I left. Now…” His voice trailed off as though he found the change in circumstances very upsetting.
“Would you consider allowing Christina to stay here at the abbey while you’re out of the country? Surely if her behavior is as irrational as you say, it would be safest for her here, where we can keep an eye on her. She seems comfortable with us. I think it reminds her of the Conservatorio.”
Guy eyed him suspiciously. “Perhaps.” He stood up. “May I please see my wife now?”
“Of course.”
As Guy followed Robert along the hall and up the stairs to the uppermost floor of the chapterhouse, he felt pleased with the outcome of their conversation. Apparently Christina had said nothing about what had happened, and while he sensed Robert’s surprise when he mentioned her “accident,” he felt his explanation had been convincing. He smiled. Robert seemed to believe his stories about Christina’s mental instability, as well. Robert might now find even the simplest recounting of the truth very hard to believe.
His thoughts were interrupted when they reached Christina’s room at the end of the hallway. Robert knocked lightly and waited. There was no answer. He knocked again. When she still didn’t answer, he opened the heavy wooden door.
Christina sat in a chair near the window, her embroidery hoop in her lap, humming quietly to herself. Guy was surprised by how frail she looked in her pale rose dressing gown. It was late afternoon. She should have been dressed.
“Christina?” Robert spoke softly, afraid of startling her.
She looked up, smiled briefly and then returned her attention to her work. Robert looked at Guy, who was right behind him, and motioned for him to wait, then went close enough to Christina to put his hand gently on her shoulder. At his touch, she looked up again and this time she stopped humming, but Guy could see that there was no light of recognition in her eyes.
“You have a visitor, my dear,” Robert said softly. “Guy is here.”
Guy moved quickly, kneeling in front of Christina’s chair and putting his hands over hers, hoping to be able to restrain her if she reacted unfavorably. But he quickly realized it was unnecessary. She shifted her attention to him, but she was still smiling. It was obvious she didn’t recognize him. He touched her cheek gently, hoping Robert noticed the tears in his eyes.
“Oh, Christina, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking with tenderness and concern.
Much to his surprise, Christina lifted her hand to his hair, running her fingers tenderly through the pale strands.
“It’s all right,” she said softly. But she wasn’t looking at him. She was watching his hair as it slipped through her fingers.
Guy took her hand and kissed it, staring at her for a moment to assure himself that she wasn’t pretending such an extraordinary level of distraction. Convinced, he stood up. With a long look at her he turned and left the room. Robert followed.
“How long has she been like this?” Guy asked.
“Since she miscarried, I’m afraid. Some days are better than others. It was a terrible shock for her, both physically and emotionally. I think you can understand why I suggested she stay on a little longer.”
“Of course,” Guy said as he wiped his eyes. “And thank you.” He offered Robert a brief bow. “I’ll return at the end of the week to check on her and, please, let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Christina was quite content. No longer having any reason to cling to the present, she had slowly retreated into the past where there was no one who wanted to harm her. She was waiting for Richard. He would be home soon and then he would take her to a lovely party at Cybelle’s and dance the whole night with her, and her alone. She felt sorry for the other girls because she knew that they were dying to dance with him, too, but she wasn’t willing to share him. He was hers. She was the one he loved and that thought made her very happy. It was terribly kind of Robert to take such good care of her and it was certainly very considerate of Guy to come to visit, though she wondered why he seemed so sad, but it didn’t matter. It was Richard she was waiting for and she had no doubt that he would come. None. Meanwhile, she happily hummed her song from the Conservatorio. All the girls had made up their own song, part of a game they played. Repeating the words over and over in her mind as she hummed helped to pass the time while she waited.
“I love Richard,
Richard loves me
But now he’s sailing on the sea.
When he comes home
I’ll be his wife
And I’ll be happy all my life.”