Ce dont on a envie qui se tarde à venir.
Deux coeurs s’unissent l’un en devient l’autre.
—Zarte
Something longed for, late to come: Two hearts joined, one to one.
Mars 1760
Arles
Maryse decided she would call on the Magistrate. She’d known him in her time at Madame Dijol’s and knew that he’d found her enchanting. Since her marriage, he’d been helpful to her in several minor matters and she expected he would be willing to see her.
“Madame Chabannier,” said the Magistrate, offering her a courtly bow. He was obviously pleased.
“Monsieur Icard. It’s so good of you to see me,” Maryse replied.
“I’m at your service, Madame.” The old man gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. When she sat down, he took the chair beside her.
“Please, tell me how I may be of service to you?”
“It’s about the Baron, Monsieur.”
Maryse noticed the expression of discomfort that flitted across his face. He recovered quickly.
“The Baron, Madame? I know he’s an old friend, but you must remember that he’s been tried and convicted. Regrettably, there is nothing I can do to change that.”
Maryse reached out to touch his hand, offering him a dazzling smile. “I assure you I understand, but…if I may speak freely?”
“Of course Madame, we, too, are old friends, are we not?”
Maryse looked down as if a bit embarrassed, then once again focused her attention on him. “Yes, Monsieur, old friends, indeed. And that’s why I felt I could come to you.”
Though he was uncomfortable that the Baron was to be the subject of the discussion, Maryse could see that the Magistrate was thinking of days gone by. He was still entranced.
“I’m hoping you will see fit to answer me honestly, Monsieur?”
“Of course, Madame.”
“Considering the Baron’s position, you must expect his family will be able to obtain a pardon from the King. And considering the Abbot’s standing, one from the Pope as well, I should think.”
“Yes, I expect both. I pray for them, Madame.”
He emphasized those last words, and Maryse wasn’t exactly sure what he was hoping to convey.
“Then, forgive me, but I fail to understand the haste with which this whole series of events has been undertaken. It seems the Baron’s rights and privileges have been ignored. It seems most irregular and I’m seeking to understand.”
“Yes, privileges, indeed.”
Maryse saw there was some bitterness there and hastened to modify her position.
“I’m sorry, Monsieur, I did not mean to offend. And I confess I cannot imagine that the Baron is guilty of this crime. It would seem that the sister of the victim also believes him innocent, so I find it hard to understand why he even came to trial after so many years. In most cases, the crimes committed by the nobility are swept away. And while we both know that is not just, it seems to be the way of the world. So why has the Baron become the focus of this attention?”
The old man looked at her, and for a brief moment Maryse felt he was going to tell her something. Something important.
“Sadly, Madame, the situation is completely beyond my control. You must understand that my instructions in this matter come from my superiors. I am not at liberty to act in the way I might wish to in these circumstances.” He gave her a penetrating look.
“I see. I had hoped that a man in your position…” Maryse looked down, sure he noted her expression of abject disappointment.
“Madame, I am so sorry. Despite what you may think, I have always admired the Baron’s family. His father was very gracious to me. Please believe me when I tell you my hands are tied.”
Maryse’s expression was now one of profound disappointment. Without a word, it said that the man she depended on had failed her. He reacted quickly.
“There is some news I can share with you,” he said, hoping to see her smile again.
“Yes?”
“Alas, it’s not good news. And I tell you this with the hope that you may be able to use the information to prevent this tragedy. The execution date has been moved up. Unless the pardons arrive, the Baron will be hanged in three days.”
“Monsieur!” Maryse was shocked and unable to hide it.
“Madame, I’ve told you this because I’m hoping your prayers will deliver him.” He gave her a meaningful look with the words. “There is still time.” He stood up and came around to take her hand.
“But Monsieur, if the execution moves forward—before the pardons arrive…I would think this would be dangerous for you? The displeasure of the Crown and the Church are not things to be dismissed.”
His expression made it clear he had, indeed, considered this. “As I have said, it is beyond my control. Please believe me.”
Maryse rose, a bit unsteadily. “Another favor? I beg you?”
“What, Madame?”
“May I see him?”
“Of course. I will take you up myself. That will forestall any questions from the guard.”
As he bowed to her, Maryse quickly leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Bless you, Monsieur.”
“A visitor, Baron,” came with the sharp rap on the door.
Richard was surprised. They rarely allowed anyone in in the morning. Perhaps there was news from Robert. But as he stepped back from the door, it was Maryse who stood there and beside her, the old Magistrate. The man bowed deeply to Richard as Maryse entered the room. This was highly unusual and Richard could not believe it was good. He nodded to the Magistrate, but said nothing until the door closed.
Richard stepped closer and embraced her.
“Maryse, what are you doing here?” He looked at the expression on her face and his smile faded.
“Is it Christina?”
“No, no she’s fine.”
“Arabella, Robert? What is it?”
“I don’t know what to say. The Magistrate just told me the execution has been moved up. We only have three days!”
“What?” He released her. “How can that be?”
“I have no idea. I’m fortunate that he shared it with me. He must be hoping I can do something. But what?”
“Has there been any word of Raymond? Or from Robert?” Richard went to the desk and began writing.
“No.” Maryse stood beside him, her hand on his shoulder as he wrote. “I heard from Cybelle this morning. There’s no word of Raymond. And we’ve not heard from Robert, though I’m hoping something will come today.”
“You must get this message to him. There has to be something that can be done to stop this, or at least delay it until the pardons arrive.” He finished writing and folded the paper, not bothering to seal it. “And don’t say anything to Christina yet.” He gave it to her and she turned to go, but he caught her hand.
“Maryse, I haven’t had a chance to thank you—for everything.”
Maryse smiled. “You know how much I owe you.”
“You owe me nothing,” he said, pulling her closer. “But I do know how fortunate I am that you still care for me.”
“Cha Chai…” Dhe touched his cheek. “I will care for you always.”
He looked at her for a long time, knowing the value of that gift. “May I ask one more thing?”
“Of course,” Maryse said, feeling the blush even while she knew that was not what he wanted of her.
Richard laughed. “Dear Maryse, those rosy cheeks betray you! And after all these years.” But he grew serious. “Can you promise me that you will somehow do what you can to help Christina and Arabella? If we can’t forestall the execution…”
She put her finger to his lips. “Don’t even say it!” Maryse was horrified.
He kissed her finger but took her hand. “If something happens—I would feel better knowing they have a friend they can depend on.”
“I promise you. I love them both. And you may be surprised to know Christina has feelings for Arabella.”
“What? Have they met?” Richard released her.
“No. It’s just that Christina told me she was glad there had been someone else to love you when she couldn’t.”
Her words broke Richard’s heart.
Stefano had been awake all night, haunted by the proposition Christina had offered him. Now, he sat in the cavernous heart of St. Trophime Cathedral. There were a few others scattered over the grand space, but each seemed lost in solitary contemplation. He was indifferent to the Church, but knew no one was likely to look for him there and he needed time to think. He hadn’t seen Guy since the day before and it was just as well. He was in no mood to deal with him. There were more important things to consider.
Christina had offered a challenge, a way for him to prove his love. And, oh, he did love her. His unexpected reaction to the news that Guy was, indeed, responsible for the loss of their child had broken through some sort of barrier inside him, and the distance he’d maintained from his true feelings had disintegrated. He’d been forced to take a long hard look at himself and he wasn’t pleased with what he saw.
Even in this forced re-evaluation, Stefano still weighed the risk and rewards of Christina’s offer and he wasn’t convinced there was a reward on the other side of the sacrifice she was asking of him. She hadn’t promised they would be together, only that she would believe he loved her. And would that be enough to win her back? No matter how he looked at it, no matter how he tried to rationalize a refusal, it came down to one singular thought—one he couldn’t hide from: He was afraid.
For the thousandth time he wished she’d asked him to kill Guy. He had no need for second thoughts about that.
Throughout the rest of the day Richard kept the messengers from his household busy. He sent to the lawyers, to St. Trophime, to Beauvu and to Montmajour. He also sent a note to his sister and finally one to Stefano. If he was going to be executed, he must talk to the man. There might be no time later to decide if he should be allowed to have their father’s settlement.
On his way to the warehouse that afternoon Stefano was, once again, stopped and handed a message. This time he did not recognize the writing but the seal of the Baron of Beauvu was unmistakable.
Signore Ferro,
Please meet with me tomorrow at your convenience. With an eye to your future I think we need to be better acquainted. Time is of the essence and I must urge you to take advantage of this opportunity.
R R L M
Baron de Beauvu
That evening Christina joined Richard for supper. Though she didn't yet know about the change in the execution date, he suspected that by tomorrow it would be common knowledge. He hoped they’d have one more evening together when he would be able to see her smile.
After the meal Richard glanced at his watch. Then he looked at her.
“What is it?” He was smiling, she thought, so it couldn’t be bad news.
“Something has happened.”
Christina waited. She could feel her heart begin to pound.
Richard saw the expression on her face change to one of dismay.
“No, Sweetheart, this is good news. Before Robert left, he told me that the annulment came through. You’re a completely free woman.”
Christina stood and threw her arms around his neck. “Is it true? Oh, please say it is!”
“It is.”
Suddenly she released him. “Does Guy know?”
“I assume that both the Church and the City would have notified him immediately.” He touched her cheek. “Chrissa, don’t worry. There is nothing he can do now. You are free of him.”
Christina sat down pondering the magnitude of his words. Free.
“There’s something I need to ask you.”
The seriousness of Richard’s tone made her look up. He dropped to his knee in front of her. Though she couldn’t imagine what he might ask, she was afraid to hear the question.
“Chrissa, will you marry me?”
It took a moment for it to register, but when it did, she leaned forward and kissed him, hugging him tightly.
“Yes. Oh, yes!” Suddenly there was a sharp rap at the door, which startled her.
But Richard was still smiling as he stood up. “Good, because I believe that’s the priest.”
The next morning, quite unexpectedly, Guy joined Stefano at the table for breakfast.
“You’re back?” Stefano kept his tone even. As usual, it was hard to tell which way the wind of Guy’s emotions might be blowing.
“I am,” Guy said with a smile. “Did you miss me?” He slapped Stefano on the back and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“You seem in good spirits.”
Guy took an appraising look at Stefano. “You look terrible.”
“I didn’t get much sleep,” Stefano said sourly. He’d been awake all night wondering if he should see Richard or not. It was one thing for Christina to have asked, but as he’d not yet agreed, it was a bit presumptuous for Richard to assume he would comply.
“Ah, hah!” Guy said triumphantly. “You did miss me! Well, not to worry, we will be celebrating tonight and I promise you that you will sleep very soundly.” His tone of voice left no doubt that he had specific plans that included Stefano.
“And what is it we’re celebrating?”
“Justice, my dear. The wheels of justice have been greased and everything is running smoothly. Tomorrow morning the Baron of Beauvu will be swinging at the end of a rope.”
Stefano just stared at Guy. No wonder Richard was so anxious to see him!
Later that morning there was a rap on Richard's door. A messenger he didn’t recognize handed him a note from Robert.
Richard,
Grégoire is seriously injured, but he will recover. We leave for Arles in the morning. They were attacked on the road and Raymond was killed. Grégré was beaten and left for dead. Their attackers took the pardon along with most of what they were carrying. There is no explanation, though they seemed to know who Raymond was, calling him “Marquis.”
The good news is that Grégoire tells me the King was deeply offended by the thought of your prosecution and is sending a delegation to investigate. We should expect them to reach Arles by the end of the month.
I have written to Cybelle. Raymond’s body has been recovered and I have sent him home.
I will see you Friday morning.
Do not lose hope brother, the Pope’s pardon should arrive by the end of next week, so all is well.
You are much loved.
Robert
It was obvious Robert hadn’t received Richard’s note. He didn’t yet know that if he arrived on Friday, he would be too late.
Early that evening Richard was working at his desk when the guard banged on the door. He assumed it was his supper and he didn’t get up. There was still a great deal to do before morning. Without Robert there to help and advise him, he was trying to set his affairs in order as best he could.
He glanced back to see the table being laid and offered his thanks without looking up again. A few moments later he heard the heavy door close.
“Richard?”
He was startled to hear Christina’s voice. He was on his feet immediately and she was in his arms seconds later.
“What are you doing here? How did you get them to agree to let you come?”
“Maryse obtained permission from the Magistrate. I can stay the night, but Denis will come for me early. Maryse said it’s a wedding gift.” There were tears in her eyes.
He hugged her again. “Well, let’s not let our supper get cold.” He guided her to the table.
“Richard, how can you think of food?”
“I’m thinking of many things, Sweetheart, and two of them are you and our child. You must eat.”
Christina couldn’t bring herself to eat. She leaned against him, tears streaming down her face.
“How have we come to this?” she sobbed. “How can God let this happen?”
“Well, I’m afraid Robert would be the one to answer that question and I’m not sure he can. But it has happened, Chrissa, and while it seems I have little to thank God for at the moment, I do thank Him for the fact that I can leave this world knowing you’ll be safe. “
“How can I live without you?”
“You will live for our child. How can our child ever know me but through you?”
“You promised you’d never leave me.”
“And I won’t. Believe me.” He turned her toward him and brushed the tears from her cheeks. He took her chin in his hand, trying to make her believe what he, himself, believed.
“I can still promise you that. You can be sure I’m always with you, no matter where you are or what happens.” He kissed her gently. “Our love goes far beyond this life Chrissa. Never doubt it. I will not leave you.” He kissed her again.
Richard was unable to coax her to eat, so he sat with her on the sofa, his arms around her, and encouraged her to drink some of her wine. Christina began to relax.
“There is something I need to tell you.”
She didn’t respond and seemed to be thinking of other things.
“Do you remember when we talked about my housekeeper?”
“Yes. On Corsica. She loved you.”
This surprised Richard. He’d never said that Arabella loved him.
“Yes. But when I left to come back and find you, she was pregnant.”
Christina didn’t say anything.
“She didn’t tell me because she knew I wouldn’t have left her. She wanted me to come back for you because she knew it was you I loved.”
“How did you find out about the baby?”
“I only found out last week. She’d told Robert before Father died, but she didn’t want the news to change my plans to bring you to Corsica. She even married the old caretaker so you would have no reason to question her pregnancy.”
There was a long pause while Christina seemed to consider the information. “She must love you very much.”
Richard kissed the top of her head. “She does. And she’s here, in Arles.”
“Now?”
“She came because she had some sort of premonition. It seems she was right. She’s staying with Maryse. Arabella has no wish to intrude, but Chrissa, if you two eventually meet, I must ask you to be kind to her.”
Christina pushed away from him. “How could I be anything else? She loves you. She will be mother to your child.” Christina was offended by his assumption that she would be unkind to Arabella. Did he think so little of her?
“I’m sorry. I thought this news might be hurtful. Apparently that’s not the case. I apologize.” He couldn’t help but stare at her, wondering how he had so misjudged what her reaction would be.
“Maryse and I have become great friends, Richard. I suspect Arabella and I will also get along well. We all have something in common: You. And if Maryse is any example, you choose rather extraordinary women.”
Richard couldn’t help but laugh. “That I do. I married one, only yesterday!”
Later, he made her comfortable on the bed, hoping she could rest a little and that he could finish his work. She made him promise to wake her in an hour, for she couldn’t bear to miss any of their last hours together. Christina was exhausted and quickly fell asleep.
It was three hours, not one, before he finished. He had done as much as he could. His letters, papers and Robert’s Orphic translations had been placed in a leather portfolio, which he intended to give to Denis. The rest—Robert’s ancient manuscripts, the books, his furniture and household things—would be gathered after it was over.
He went to the bed and hesitated, hating to disturb Christina. She looked so peaceful, how could he bring her back to the pain the next hours were sure to bring?
Richard’s anger slowly faded, replaced by practical considerations as he tried to settle everything that must be settled. He’d reached a point of acceptance, though not one of understanding. He knew he was beaten. All his thoughts were on Christina and her child, Arabella and hers. He prayed, too, for Robert, who would be dealt a terrible blow when he came back to find he’d arrived too late. Richard was deeply concerned about his brother.
Christina sensed his closeness and opened her eyes. He was smiling.
“Baroness,” he said, affecting a deep formal bow.
Christina opened her arms to him and he embraced her.
“Come, lie beside me for awhile. I want to feel you next to me.”
Richard lay down and took her in his arms. He held her a moment and then lifted his hand, palm toward her.
She looked at his hand, at him, and then she smiled and placed her hand flat against his.
“Though art Beloved of me,” she said softly.
“And I of thee,” Richard whispered.
“And so it will be.”
“For Eternity.” They spoke the last words together. The moment seemed to stretch beyond time. Richard kissed her.
“I want you to live at Beauvu, Christina.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “You can spend time in town, too, of course. But there are so many people who depend on Beauvu and I know you and the child will be safe there.”
“I understand.”
“You might see if Maryse and her children would join you. It would be as it was when we were young. Do you remember how happy we were?”
“Yes. Those were wonderful times.”
“You can have that again. Bring your friends, your family from Italy. Maybe some friends from the Conservatorio? Cybelle and Lauro will surely come and bring the children. You and the child needn’t be alone there. And everyone at Beauvu loves you. I know you can be happy there, it’s your home now.”
“And you’ll be there.”
Richard felt a chill. She was thinking of his body lying in the mausoleum. He hugged her more tightly.
“Chrissa. My body may be there, but I will be with you, wherever you are—not in that casket. I promise you that. The soul is free, Chrissa. It goes where it will. It goes to love. That’s how we found each other. It’s why we’ll never be separated.”
Guy and Stefano had a late supper that night. Stefano was still trying to deal with the knowledge that he had probably lost Christina forever. In a few hours Richard would be dead. Guy, on the other hand, was in high spirits. He was drinking too much and beginning to become irritated that Stefano seemed unwilling to join in.
“Tonight is important to me. I expect some enthusiasm on your part. You owe me that much.” There was both a petulance and a warning in his tone. Guy obviously had crafted another scenario and he was depending on Stefano to make it real for him.
Stefano tried to focus on Guy. He wanted to lose himself in whatever little event Guy had planned—anything to take his mind from the haunting realization that he was a coward.
He smiled. “So what do you have in mind?”
“Well, it is Richard’s last night on this earth. Why don’t you show me how he’d celebrate it?” Guy could barely keep the excitement out of his voice.
“Ah…” Stefano said, quite familiar with what Guy wanted, and knew he would have to be careful. It was obvious Guy had some very specific things in mind. If Stefano, in the part of Richard, made any missteps, the aftermath could be unpleasant. And Stefano was short on patience at the moment.
“Perhaps we should begin with a bath?” Stefano offered, taking a deep drink of his wine. It might well require more than wine to get him through this night.
“I have anticipated you, my dear. André should have the water waiting for us.”
Guy’s elaborate plans for the evening surprised Stefano. After Guy bathed him, he dressed him in the clothes he had worn as Richard for the barn incident they had so carefully recreated for Christina—black sailor’s breeches and a linen shirt. Though he was often made to play Richard, Stefano had not seen those clothes since that night in Aix. As he pulled on the breeches he could see that Guy was near giddy with anticipation. Stefano continued to drink, hoping to catch up with Guy and lose himself in the experience. Anything would be better than the place he’d found himself in for the last two days.
But when Guy led him to the room he’d created for some of his more violent fantasies, Stefano balked. Guy had turned Christina’s dressing room into a place where he indulged in things that more often involved prostitutes than Stefano. Stefano wasn’t sure this was where he wanted to be with Guy tonight.
“Come Richard, you die in the morning, what’s to fear tonight? And from one who loves you as I do?” Guy pulled open the drawer in the little table beside the door and picked up the key.
“If you love me,” Stefano said in character, as he stroked Guy’s cheek, “why do you want to see me dead?”
Guy laughed as he unlocked the door.
“Guy, do you believe I killed Marco?” Stefano had occasionally wondered if Guy had had feelings for Marco, as well.
“What?”
“I asked if you believe I killed Marco. Is that what this is all about?”
For a moment Guy just looked at him. Is that what he thinks? That I’m punishing him for killing Marco? Guy turned away, confused for a moment.
“No, of course not,” he said, speaking more to himself than this version of Richard. “It was an accident, I was drunk. I never meant for it to happen.” He turned back to Stefano. Or is it Richard? “I found your dagger and was going to kill you with it. But then Christina would have known and—well, it hardly matters now, does it?”
Stefano was surprised.“Then what’s all this about?”
“You just don’t understand, do you?” Guy returned his attention to his plans for the evening.
“How can I know if you don’t tell me?”
“Oh, I’ll tell you. I want to be very sure you understand. I’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to remove you from my life. I want to be very sure you know why.” He led Stefano to the middle of the room and then knelt to tie his legs together. Stefano gave him a sharp look, but realized that while Guy looped the rope tightly around his ankles, he didn’t secure it.
“I’m told it helps speed you on your way if you can’t flail about at the end of the rope. Put your hands behind your back.”
Stefano was worried, but he could feel that the rope around his wrists was also not secured. Perhaps Guy intended he should break free. He might be hoping Richard would escape.
Then Guy placed the noose around his neck.
Guy saw the expression on Stefano’s face. He didn’t want anything to spoil his plans so he whispered into Stefano’s ear.
“Relax! The rope is attached to nothing, you’re in no danger. It’s not what you think. Do this for me.” His lips trailed across Stefano’s cheek and his tongue flicked between Stefano’s lips.
Stefano leaned into the kiss, hoping to distract him, but Guy pulled away, teasing him.
“So now, after all these years—now you’re willing to admit you care for me?”
“You know I do,” Stefano said with a smoldering look. Even as he spoke, he was slowly loosening the rope around his wrists. He had no intention of enduring one of Guy’s miscalculations. He would be ready in case things went too far.
“Well, you’ve had a rather strange way of showing it.” Guy gently tightened the noose around Stefano’s neck. Not tight, just snugged it up against his skin. He untied the lacing at Stefano’s throat and pushed the shirt down, exposing one shoulder and half his chest. He fixed his eyes on Stefano’s and pinched his nipple. Hard.
Stefano gave Guy an expression of ecstasy mixed with gratitude, hoping that was what he was looking for.
“Ah, I thought so,” Guy said smiling. He brushed his fingers gently back and forth across the nipple, as if fascinated by the way it stiffened. “You have no idea what you’ve missed. I’d hate for you to go to your grave without understanding what we could have shared.”
“Show me,” Stefano whispered, leaning toward Guy.
But Guy avoided contact. “We’ll see.” Guy paused, studying Stefano’s body. “You know, your father thought he had the best tutor for you. I thought so, too when I was little. But now I think I learned a lot more from Julien than you ever learned—even from your whores. Of course one hears about things that go on aboard ships…” He stared at Stefano for a moment. “No…I don’t suppose you were ever involved in that sort of thing.”
Guy began to walk slowly around Stefano. He touched the flexed muscle in his arm. He stood behind him and placed his hands on his shoulders, then slowly let his fingers trail over the hard muscles in his back. He caressed his buttocks and slipped his hand between Stefano’s legs, but his thighs were tight because his legs were bound. Stefano flexed his muscles, pressing against Guy’s hand.
Guy moved on, and slowly pulled Stefano’s shirt loose. He slipped his hand under the fabric, caressing the hard muscles of his stomach.
“Tell me about Julien,” Stefano said breathlessly, hoping he was playing the part Guy’s wanted.
Guy looked at Stefano gauging his sincerity. “He hurt me. I was little and I couldn’t do anything and he hurt me.”
This was unexpected. Stefano wasn’t sure what reaction Guy was hoping for. “Why didn’t you ever tell me—when we were children?”
“I was afraid. Julien made a lot of threats. He killed my puppy.” Guy seemed to drift off into the memories. Suddenly, he snapped back. He grabbed the noose around Stefano’s neck and twisted it around so the coils of the knot hung in the center of his chest.
The noose itself didn’t tighten, but the rough rope burned against Stefano’s skin.
“Guy, what did Julien do to you? How did he hurt you?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. He wanted to distract Guy. He could see the rage in his face.
It worked. Guy’s expression changed. His voice became brusque and dispassionate. He began to pace back and forth in front of him, all the time holding the end of the rope as if it were a leash.
“Julien explained things to me. He showed me what little boys were for, all the ways I could please him.”
There was a catch in his voice and for a moment Stefano thought he might cry.
“But I was too little. He hurt me. And he kept hurting me.” Suddenly, he refocused on Stefano.
“I’d be willing to wager Monsieur Pagni never showed you those things, did he? You never learned how to please a man, did you?”
“No, you’re right. But you can show me, here, now—please Guy—before it’s too late.” Stefano begged, emphasizing the last words.
But Guy was lost in his memories. “Remember how we used to travel with our tutors? Tell me, what did you do when you traveled with old Pagni?”
Stefano was baffled and fielded a guess. “We saw the Roman ruins.”
Much to Stefano’s surprise Guy laughed.
“Well then, perhaps I can say I was ruined by Romans!” Guy began to pace again and his expression turned dark. “Julien took me to Rome when I was eight. He took me to some villa and invited all his friends to come and meet his pupil. He passed me around—to all of them. Even the women. Every day, every night, there were people there. Giving Julien money for a little time with his pupil.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Stefano asked, as Richard and also as himself. He was surprised to find he felt some sympathy for Guy. He’d never imagined that such a thing might be the origin of Guy’s obsession.
Suddenly, Guy jerked the rope, pulling Stefano’s face close to his. “I tried to tell you. Don’t you remember? That day after the ball.”
“What ball?” Stefano asked. He was looking for something to grab onto that would bring Guy back. He had never seen him so disconnected.
“Oh, of course, how could you remember? Something so unimportant as a friend asking for help.” Guy’s tone was sarcastic and threatening.
“Guy…” Stefano whispered his name. It worked. He had Guy’s attention. “You must tell me—am I to go to my grave without knowing how I hurt you so deeply?”
“The ball at Cybelle’s. You must remember? You couldn’t talk because you had ‘something to do.’ You thought I didn’t know! You had to visit your whore. And your whore wasn’t enough. You took mine, as well!”
Guy stepped away and took another drink. Unfortunately, Stefano was sobering up rather quickly.
“I’m sorry. I should have been satisfied with mine.” Stefano had no idea where he might go from there.
Guy grabbed his chin roughly. “You didn’t know I saw you the next morning but I did—there in the hall—both the woman and the girl, fondling you like they couldn’t get enough, couldn’t bear to let you go.” Guy’s hand slipped to Stefano’s genitals and suddenly his expression changed. It was followed by a sob and he dropped to his knees throwing his arms around Stefano’s legs and pressing his face against him. “Why did you love them? Why not me?” he sobbed, “Why not me?”
“I do love you, Guy. Untie me and let me show you.”
“No. No, I can’t.”
“Then show me, show me how much you love me.” Stefano knew he was finally in control again.
Guy looked up at him, grateful as he smiled through his tears. He reached for the buttons at Stefano’s waist.