Love and Honor

by Harry Samkange

  “Yes, Monsieur. Though he lies unhorsed and mortally wounded, he still points the way for his regiment to charge,” Nicolas explained.

  “I understand you to be particularly fond of horses, Monsieur le Chevalier -- so much so that you also enjoy talking to them. Is that true?” the baron asked.

  “Yes on both counts,” Nicolas admitted.

  “And do they talk back to you?” the baron teased.

  “Indeed they do, Monsieur; but with their actions, which makes them infinitely more understandable and reliable than most people,” Nicolas replied, not particularly in the mood for the baron’s levity, given all that was at stake. The welcome sound of approaching footsteps signaled the arrival of the Montferraud household cavalry, the marquis at their head.

  “What an agreeable surprise. How very delighted I am to see you again, Mademoiselle de Salvagnac, Mademoiselle de La Bouhaire,” the marquis said sincerely, singling out his favorites from the rest of the crowd. He walked blithely by the outstretched hand of Madame de Salvagnac as if he had not seen it, to greet the ladies of his preference, putting everyone on notice that the snubs to his family had not yet been forgotten or forgiven.

  “How dearly we have missed you these many weeks,” Madame de Blaise said warmly to Sérolène and Julienne as she moved forward to make her greetings, also pointedly ignoring the baronne before offering warm embraces to Sérolène and then Julienne in turn.

  “This must be your sister Éléonore?” Madame de Blaise inquired of Julienne.

  “Yes, Madame. Ellie, say hello to Madame de Blaise,” Julienne prompted her younger sister.

  “Very pleased to meet you, Madame,” Éléonore said, performing her best curtsey.

  “What a delightful child,” Madame de Blaise said, paying compliment to Éléonore, though she still made no movement toward nor recognition of the baronne.

  “Monsieur de Salvagnac, may I present to you Madame de Blaise,” the marquis said, presenting his wife to the baron, who bowed low in greeting, kissing her hand reverentially.

  “Madame, it is indeed a great honor to finally make your acquaintance. How sorry I was to have missed you when I came to pay my respects to young Nicolas after the affair in the Cap,” the baron said.

  “You are too kind, Monsieur de Salvagnac, and you have brought joy to all of us by reuniting us with our dear mademoiselles,” Madame de Blaise added.

  “Your kindness and generosity in the care of my niece and the welcome you gave to my daughter after the unfortunate accident was truly beyond measure. You have indeed been an angel of mercy for all of us, and I wish to thank you must humbly for all that you have done,” the baron said, intent upon accomplishing his goal of reuniting the families once again. Madame de Blaise inclined her head in acknowledgement of the baron’s generous but tardy sentiments of appreciation.

  “We have done what family is compelled by care and affection to do for each other, Monsieur de Salvagnac, nothing more,” the marquise replied.

  “Nevertheless, Madame, we remain indebted to you and wish in all sincerity to acknowledge it,” the baronne interjected, determined not to be overlooked any further. The room remained silent to see how Madame de Blaise would react to this tentative peace offering. The marquise slowly exhaled, the soft outrush of her breath audible in the tense silence that followed the baronne’s words.

  “I thank you for your considerate…and unexpected words…Madame,” she uttered at last. It was not the warmest of replies, but it was a reply nonetheless, and there was a collective outflow of breath as some of the pent-up tension began to bleed out of the room. Monsieur de Salvagnac signaled to two of his lackeys, who stood by the vestibule, to enter the room. They came in bearing several trays piled with gifts as everyone was finally seated.

  “Forgive us for inconveniencing you so early in the day, and on the day after Christmas nonetheless, but I wished to ensure that I might find you all at home, so that we could present you with these tokens of our esteem,” the baron said, standing in the center of the salon so that he might better direct the presentation of the gifts.

  “Julienne, come and give Monsieur de Marbéville his gift,” the baron said, prompting his daughter to come forward. She presented Francis with a handsome bejeweled dress sword, receiving a kiss as reward, to the delight and applause of everyone.

  “Come Éléonore, you’re next,” the baron coaxed his youngest daughter, handing her a gift that she presented to the Marquis de Blaise. It was an exquisite silver snuff box carved with hummingbird figures and flowers. She received an embrace and a delicate kiss on the cheek from the marquis in appreciation, which she promptly wiped off, to everyone’s laughter. Last to rise was Madame de Salvagnac, who after having claimed her gift from her husband’s hands, advanced hesitantly toward the serene figure of Madame de Blaise who was seated on a marquise next to her husband.

  “Madame de Blaise, if you would deign to favor me with your condescension, I should like to beg of you the kindness of being allowed to present you with a small gift that I have chosen,” the baronne began haltingly, her former air of lofty pride stripped from both her speech and her manner. Despite her new air of humility, she could still see the reluctance of the marquise to accept, given the hotness of their last encounter.

  “I know that I have no right to expect your indulgence, Madame. I should expect rather your censure in light of how I behaved toward you when last I was here. Nevertheless, I do humbly beg it of thee,” the baronne said, performing a deep curtsey before the marquise and inclining her head with so humble and penitent an air that Madame de Blaise could not refuse her. The entire room watched intently in awestruck silence, Francis giving Nicolas a secret nod of the head as he stood behind Julienne, Nicolas standing behind Sérolène.

  “I have lived much of my life in small circles of acquaintance and association, from which I acquired many habits and opinions. Some good…” the baronne said, looking generously at her husband, “…and some, I confess, quite mistaken. I have in the past few weeks taken much time to reflect upon my conduct the last time I had the honor to visit this house, Madame. After all the courtesies you have shown and after all that the young chevalier risked for us, I cannot look back upon my actions without feeling a profound sense of shame and remorse,” she said, regarding the marquise intently.

  The room was collectively in shock as the baronne paused to gather herself, none more surprised at the degree of her penitent self-reflection than Julienne and Sérolène, the latter having never before seen her aunt in so contrite a state. Madame de Salvagnac raised her head to look at Madame de Blaise, a single tear cascading slowly down her cheek. The room was completely silent as the baronne set her gift down upon a small table, her trembling hands reaching out to take Madame de Blaise’s in her own.

  “Shame, Madame, that I had not the wisdom to look beyond my own mistaken point of view to see you for the extraordinary woman that you truly are. Remorse, Madame, that knowing how badly I behaved, I had not the strength of character to write to you and beg your forgiveness, as I humbly do now in front of you and all those most dear to me,” the baronne said with perfect contrition. A solitary tear fell from her cheek to stain the blue satin fabric of her gown. No scene could have been better conceived or acted, and no better effect wrought upon the entire assembled party.

  Quel beau geste! Nicolas thought to himself, admiring the splendid performance of the baronne. The marquis cast a sideways glance at Madame de Blaise, nodding his head slightly. Madame de Blaise rose from her seat and embraced the baronne tenderly, by her actions both acknowledging and accepting her apology. Both were tearfully overcome with emotion.

  “How generous your words, and how warm your heart. I assure you that I have wished for nothing more than the happiness of all,” Madame de Blaise replied. The baronne smiled, retrieving her gift and presenting it to the marquise.

  “This is for you, Madame; it expresses the heartfelt esteem and affection we all have come to have for you and y
our family, but it is a mere trifle in comparison to the true extent and depth of our gratitude. I have made a most grievous mistake in neglecting your friendship. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me, and I assure you that from this day forward I wish for nothing more than for you and I to become the best of friends,” the baronne declared sincerely.

  “You and your family have ever been dear to my heart. You can rest assured, Madame de Salvagnac, that you may always count upon me as your friend,” Madame de Blaise said.

  At the prompting of the baronne, the marquise began unwrapping the gift’s silk outer covering to reveal a velvet jewelry case, inside of which was a stunning emerald necklace interlaced with diamonds, the piece carefully chosen to match the color of Madame de Blaise’s eyes. It looked to be worth a small fortune and Madame de Blaise was visibly affected, though more by the sentiment than the value of the gift. She embraced the baronne again in thanks, performing also an elegant curtsy before Baron Salvagnac, which he returned with a low bow of his own. The baron beamed at his wife from across the room, pleased beyond measure with her performance as the baronne and Madame de Blaise walked arm and arm to sit together. The marquis came forward to shake hands warmly with the baron, the open breach between the two families appearing now to be fully healed.

  “I shall complete the last remaining details and affix my signature to the contract of marriage today, Monsieur. If it is not too inconvenient, perhaps we might conduct the ceremony in the next few days? I should not like to enter the New Year without assuring our children of the happiness we have promised them,” the marquis said, looking across the room at Julienne, who beamed in delight at Francis.

  “Of course, Monsieur, whatever you find most convenient shall be done,” the baron said with delight, having now assured himself of a satisfactory conclusion to the most pressing of his affairs. But there still remains one more piece of business to conduct, and that might prove the most difficult and delicate by far, the baron reminded himself. The general mood was gay and carefree, spurred on by the evident affection and tenderness on display between the soon-to-be newlyweds and the state of open cordiality that prevailed between the marquise and the baronne. The baron looked around him with satisfaction, knowing that his mission had been a resounding success. Not wishing to jeopardize the fruits of his apparent victory, he felt it wise not to linger too long on this particular field of glory.

  “My dear family, though we have much enjoyed being in your company, I regret that my wife and I have pressing matters elsewhere that require us to depart,” the baron said, his robust voice carrying over the fading din of conversation. There was a general clamor of disappointment, the happiness of being reunited genuinely felt by all. Everyone stood to see the Salvagnacs off, the discarded wrapping papers pointing accusingly toward the single glaring omission of the baron’s otherwise wholly successful visit. Only Nicolas had received nothing as a gift, though he had arguably done more to bring the families closer together than anyone. There were sideways glances in his direction to see if he were in any way affected, but he seemed altogether unperturbed. Unbeknownst to all, however, the baron had yet one more beau geste to make.

  “Must you take everyone with you, Madame? Perhaps you could leave the children with us for some time -- we promise to have them home by nightfall,” Madame de Blaise assured her.

  “Oh, please, Papa, can we?” Éléonore pleaded.

  “Well, I shall leave that up to Madame de Salvagnac, for it is well known, my dear little one that I am entirely unable to refuse you anything,” the baron said, all heads turning toward the baronne for her decision.

  “If my husband is unable to refuse, how can my softer heart possibly do so?” the baronne declared. Éléonore laughed with delight, tugging on Nicolas’ hand in glee.

  “Nicolas, my boy! Would you do me the honor of accompanying me as we walk to the carriage?” the baron continued jovially, beckoning the young chevalier to his side. Nicolas dutifully released himself from Éléonore’s grasp to accompany the baron and baronne, the rest of the party following them out. They walked side by side, a liveried servant preceding them, the baron coming to a halt as they reached the main entrance, where he stopped to speak with Nicolas in tones loud enough for all to hear.

  “You will pardon me for waiting so late, Monsieur le Chevalier, to present you with your gift. I can assure you, you were not forgotten in our thoughts. Indeed, how could we forget someone to whom we owe so much?” the baron said, turning to address the gathering, curiosity written on everyone’s face.

  “You have done enough for me already, Monsieur; your consideration already outstrips my ability to repay you,” Nicolas said modestly, looking back toward Sérolène.

  “Forgive me, but in this I must insist. Monsieur de Blaise, I beg you to permit me your indulgence in this last gift. As you will see, I had some trouble in procuring exactly what I desired. It has been my little secret. Not even Madame de Salvagnac was made aware of it, though both the observations of my niece and the conversations I have shared with the chevalier have influenced me greatly in my choice,” the baron said, turning to address Nicolas directly.

  “What can one give in recompense to one who has sacrificed so much? To one who unselfishly risked his life to save the lives of others? What can one do to remove the pain and suffering that such a young man went through, not only on that day in the Cap, but in the weeks afterward in recovery? I asked many questions about you during that time. I wanted to better understand the type of young man you are. The answers I received had all but convinced me of the substance of your character. If there were any lingering doubts, the alacrity with which you answered our plea when my niece was in danger convinced me of the correctness of my opinions. I know how dearly you care for your horses and that the grey mare was your favorite. To have ridden such a splendid animal to death in order to come to our aid was both selfless and noble. I know how much you must have regretted the loss. Here is my attempt to make it up to you,” the baron said, putting his arm on Nicolas’ shoulder. He bid the servant open the door and as the light streamed in, he led the party out in to the courtyard where tethered next to the baron’s carriage were the two most beautiful horses Nicolas had ever seen.

  “Voilà! Here is my gift to you. These are the best horses Alsace has to offer. The black stallion, I’m told, is temperamental; he’s thrown three riders already who tried to break him, but he is afraid of nothing and will run and jump to exhaustion for anyone who can master him. He is a token of our thanks for your heroism in the Cap. The grey mare is docile and friendly and can fly like the wind. She is a measure of our gratitude for the sacrifice of your own. They are both for you my boy, with my heartfelt thanks,” the baron said with a flourish.

  Nicolas was truly speechless, looking to his father for acknowledgement that he could actually accept the gift. Blaise nodded and Nicolas shouted with joy, forgetting propriety for the moment in his enthusiasm as he turned and spontaneously hugged the baron in gratitude. The baron laughed delightedly, happy that his offering was so well received. It was plain from the looks of all those gathered that the baron had quite outdone himself. Everyone stared in admiration at the magnificent mounts, knowing they must have cost a small fortune to find and procure. The horses were untethered by the grooms and paraded before the gathering so that they could be admired, the black stallion requiring three handlers as he reared and stomped in annoyance.

  “Saddle them both at once,” Nicolas instructed the equerries.

  “Is that wise, my dear?” Madame de Blaise inquired doubtfully of the marquis.

  “No. But it is audacious and in keeping with his nature, and so we shall let him to his task,” the marquis declared as the equerries saddled both mounts. Once this was done, Nicolas walked boldly up to the snorting stallion, the great black head looming high above him as the horse reared up on its hind quarters.

  “Release him,” he instructed the handlers. They looked in concert to the marquis, who nodd
ed his assent.

  Nicolas took the bridle in hand as the handlers stepped back, immediately stepping in close to stroke the jet-black horse on the nose until it lowered its head enough for him to whisper into its ear. To the surprise of everyone, whatever words were spoken appeared to calm the great beast. Satisfied that he and the horse now understood each other, Nicolas mounted up immediately with the aid of one of the grooms. As soon as he was on the stallion’s back, it reared as if to throw him, but Nicolas merely leaned forward into the stallion’s neck and laughed in pure glee. Urging the horse on with his riding crop, he then shot off like a thunderbolt, quickly disappearing from sight as he rode off at the gallop. After several minutes there followed some discussion as to whether the boy was riding the horse or the horse had simply run off with him attached.

  “Perhaps we should send riders after him?” Madame de Blaise suggested apprehensively.

  “No, Madame -- look there,” Francis pointed out.

  Nicolas was coming up the road at a trot, guiding the horse from side to side on precise diagonals as though on parade. It seemed clear to all that the great beast had accepted him willingly as his new master, and as Nicolas rode up to the assembled company he performed a neat pirouette in the courtyard before dismounting, a wide grin of satisfaction brightening his entire face.