by Barb Hendee
Then I left the room and headed back down the passage.
Erik was waiting for me out in the courtyard and I made my way out of the keep directly, trying not to think of Chloe. Once outside, I breathed in the cold morning air, but paused at the sight of Christophe standing with Erik and Jenny. He turned his head at the sound of my steps and at the sight of me, his haunted eyes flashed such a look of longing and regret that I nearly backed up.
Then the look was gone.
“Your trunk is ready to be carried down?” he asked. “You’ve not forgotten anything?”
The words seemed so empty and I couldn’t help thinking of our days at Chastain, working side by side as lord and lady.
“No, I’ve not forgotten anything,” I answered.
Tightly, he nodded once, and I walked past him to join Erik.
“I’ll join you at the lodge next month,” Christophe told Erik. “We should do another full patrol of your lands, make sure no other raiders have made their way upriver.”
“Agreed,” Erik answered. “Come when the weather starts to warm a little. Send word if you can and maybe to stay a few days before we leave. Father enjoys your company.”
Stay a few days.
I looked ahead at the years of my life, of Christophe coming to the lodge for polite family visits, of having to sit across from him at a table, knowing I’d betrayed him, that I’d help to make him believe another man’s son was his own. Could I bear it? In my ears, I kept hearing his voice from that morning last summer at the beehives.
This is our only chance. If you refuse me now, we will both end up living the wrong lives.
Perhaps we were living the wrong lives, and I was the one who had brought this to pass.
But in my heart, I knew my actions had not been wrong.
In the grand scheme, this was the best possible outcome. Yes, I had deceived a good man, a man I loved. His heir was not his son and my part in that was unforgivable. But there was a great deal more at stake than the de Fiore bloodline.
My own people were safe, guarded by Christophe’s troops.
Chloe was safe.
The child was safe… and Christophe loved him.
All things considered, I’d done the right thing.
* * * *
The courtyard around me disappeared. I found myself once again inside my bedroom and staring into the right panel of the three-tiered mirror.
Dropping to my knees, I thought on all that I had just lived through.
But the dark-haired woman was now looking out from the center panel.
“What was that?” I cried.
“That would be the outcome of the first choice,” she answered. “But now those memories will vanish and you’ll go back to the beginning, to the moment of the crisis, to live out the second choice.”
“Wait!” I cried. “I’ll not remember anything of what I just saw?”
“Back to the beginning once more,” she answered. “To live out the second choice.”
My mind went blank and the bedroom vanished.
The Second Choice:
Silence
Chapter 8
I was standing in Chloe’s closet, feeling disoriented, as if I’d forgotten something and needed to remember. Peeking out a crack between the closet door and the wall, I saw my sister standing in her bedroom with Julian Belledini.
“You liar,” she said. “You made me believe you wanted to spend your life with me.”
He stepped away from her. “And I did. I do. But not like this. Marry Lord Christophe. You have no choice now. In three years’ time, you’ll thank me.”
Turning, he walked out.
Chloe put both hands to her mouth to stifle a sob.
Then I remembered. I’d come in here to find her dress from the banquet, so that it might be laundered, and I’d heard… I’d overheard that she was carrying Julian’s child.
A few moments later, one of her servants called to her through the door. She composed herself as best she could and left the room. I remained in the closet, trying to let myself fully comprehend what had just happened, what I had just learned. Chloe now had no other option than to marry Christophe.
Could I allow this to happen?
Panic rose inside me. I couldn’t betray Christophe and yet I could not betray Chloe either. What should I do?
Almost instantly, panic turned to anger. Why had I heard any of this? I should not have been in this closet. Had Chloe’s gown not been hung back up by one of the housemaids, had Jenny not remembered that it needed to be washed, had I not heard Chloe retching on the night of the banquet and therefore been so determined to come find the gown, I would not have come here.
Had one small event played out differently, I would be ignorant of this awful truth and I would not be faced with the decision of what to do with what I had learned.
And then I knew the answer. This was not a decision for me to make. Were I not in this closet, I would be as blissfully ignorant as everyone else and fate would take its own course. I could not choose between Chloe and Christophe and therefore, I would not.
I would pretend that I’d never left the laundry room, that I’d heard nothing.
I would keep this secret to myself.
* * * *
The following few weeks felt long, as preparations for Chloe’s wedding were in full swing.
The worst moments came in the evenings, as Julian often joined my family for dinner, looking handsome as always, smiling as if all was right with the world, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs out comfortably under our dining room table. I had to listen to him making polite conversation with my father and brother over the table. Chloe could barely look at him and when she did, her eyes shone with pain.
I was sure either my mother or Erik would notice.
But no one did, or if they did, they most likely thought it a harmless girlish crush, nothing so unusual with a man like Julian, and that Chloe would soon find her peace as the lady of Whale’s Keep. Everyone wanted her to marry Christophe and no one was willing to say a word to interfere with that outcome.
Steadfastly, I held to my decision of pretending I’d heard nothing, that I knew nothing, for to acknowledge such truth would mean taking action and taking action would mean choosing between Chloe and Christophe. I could not choose one over the other.
The days passed.
Finally, the end of the month came and the wedding was upon us, and I breathed in relief. Once Chloe was married, this feeling of limbo would be over and events would be out of my hands. No matter how things played out after the wedding, it would be up to fate then and not up to me.
The night before the wedding, Christophe arrived at the lodge and we all met him in the round courtyard, but only his guards accompanied him.
“Your sister will not be attending?” my mother asked him, puzzled. “I’ve had the best guest room prepared for you and Chloe, for tonight. But I reserved second-best guest room for Lady Mildreth.”
“No,” he answered. “She does not leave the island.”
That evening, we had a fine dinner of baked salmon and red potatoes in the gathering hall and a number of wedding guests joined us for the celebration. Christophe barely spoke to me and the few times he glanced at me, I saw a mix of anger and longing in his face. Julian sat across the table from him, inquiring about the troops that would be sent. Chloe spoke little and ate less. I wondered if my parents or Erik noticed that the evening hardly resembled a joyous meal on the night before a wedding. Could they be so oblivious?
But when the meal ended and we all filed from the gathering hall to head for our beds—as we had an early day tomorrow—Erik drew me back to speak to me alone.
“Nicole…” he began, sounding almost anxious. “Have you seen Chloe and Julian attempting to meet each other in private?”
&n
bsp; I went still. This was the last thing I wanted him to ask me. He was not so oblivious after all. But I was determined to pretend that I’d not been in that closet. Telling Erik would mean taking an action, and I would not alter fate simply because I’d overheard something I should not.
“In private?” I repeated. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Forget that I asked.” Leaning down, he kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
That night, in bed, I heard Chloe in the adjoining room, softly crying herself to sleep. What did she regret most: Losing Julian, being forced to marry Christophe, or that she would have to deceive her husband into accepting a child that was not his own?
I shed silent tears, wishing I could help her, but there was nothing I could do to fix any of this.
* * * *
The following morning, I barely saw Chloe, as I was busy overseeing food preparations in the kitchens and inspecting flowers in the gathering hall. I knew my mother would be busy helping Chloe to prepare and I tried to handle as many of the other duties as possible.
There were several small issues with our guests. Colonel Régnier and his wife had come all the way from Lascaùx to attend the wedding, but they could barely stand each other and after a single night together, they were demanding separate rooms.
Lady Richelle de Miennes was offended that she had been given a room so near to the servant quarters, but thankfully—since Christophe’s sister had not come with him—I was able to change Lady Richelle’s quarters and have her moved into the second-best guest room.
The wedding was scheduled for mid-afternoon, to give plenty of time for celebrating afterward and by the early afternoon, I found myself hurrying to the adjoining rooms I shared with Chloe to check on her.
I arrived to an unexpected situation.
Approaching the door, I heard my mother. “But, my dear…we had decided on your pale amber satin. Jenny spent half the night ironing the skirt.” Her voice was tense and I’d never heard her use such a sharp tone with Chloe.
“No,” Chloe answered flatly. “I’m wearing this one.”
Entering the room, I found my mother, Chloe, Jenny, and two other maids inside. Chloe’s fine amber satin gown lay on the bed. It was a lovely dress with a high, square neckline, capped sleeves, and a train. The color was light, almost cream, and it brought out a hint of red in her blond hair.
But she stood before her full-length mirror in the same green silk she’d worn to the banquet. While this gown was perfect for a dance, it had a low, V-shaped neckline and a simple skirt. It was not a wedding gown.
Besides, I’d been told green was bad luck for a wedding: the color of envy.
“You are so lovely in the amber satin,” Mother pressed. “Please, just try it on.”
“No,” Chloe repeated. “This one.”
Our mother sighed. “Very well. Sit down and let me put up your hair.”
“No,” Chloe said again. “Just brush it out. I’ll wear it down.”
And then I realized what she was doing. She wanted to appear exactly as she had on that night when she spent the entire evening dancing with Julian. I did not know why, but I wondered if this was her last act of defiance. She wanted to marry Julian, not Christophe. And yet she was trapped. Julian had abandoned her and she was not of a nature to become an object of pity, the cast-off mother of an illegitimate child, shunned from all society.
Christophe was her only option. Becoming the lady of Whale’s Keep was her only option.
And yet, on the day of her wedding, she was dressing for Julian.
It was not a good omen.
* * * *
The wedding itself went smoothly for the most part.
Our gathering hall was decorated with dozens of white and yellow roses.
Father had brought in a magistrate from Lascaùx and a number of noble guests were with us to partake in this joining of the house of Montagna with the house of de Fiore. Julian stood in a place of honor near the front of the hall. He wore the same sleeveless black tunic from the night of the banquet.
Christophe wore the blue tunic with the silver thread that I’d made for him.
Though my mother had encouraged me to wear the lavender gown, I couldn’t bring myself to put it on and chose a simple tan muslin instead. Upon walking into the hall and seeing both Christophe and Julian, I was glad for my decision. It wouldn’t do to have all four of us wearing the same clothes from the night of the banquet.
Chloe was beautiful in her emerald green silk, slender as a river reed with her shining hair hanging down her back. With her head high, she joined Christophe near the hearth of our gathering hall. My family and all our guests stood behind them.
“Does anyone have any reason why these two should not be joined in marriage?” asked the magistrate.
Both Erik and my father appeared tense. Erik glanced at Julian and my father glanced at me first, and then Christophe.
I would not allow myself to even think on the question.
When no one offered an objection to the marriage, the magistrate went on.
“Do you, Christophe de Fiore, swear to love this woman, to protect her heart, to give her your loyalty, and to care for her all the days of your life?”
“I swear,” Christophe answered.
“Do you, Chloe Montagna, swear to love this man, to protect his heart, to give him your loyalty, and to care for him all the days of your life?”
She hesitated. These were sacred vows, and she was promising to protect his heart and give him her loyalty.
Standing beside me, my father watched her.
“I swear,” Chloe said quietly.
They were married.
A great feast followed the ceremony. Later, Christophe and Chloe were cheered as they were seen off to spend their first night as a wedded couple in the best guest room of White Deer Lodge. I could not help wondering what Julian was thinking as he watched them leave the hall.
Two days later, Christophe lifted Chloe onto the back of a horse, and they rode out of the courtyard.
Julian stood with my family to wave good-bye.
My sister was gone.
I was torn between mourning and relief. She had been in my life since the day I was born and I felt her loss keenly. But at least her fate was out of my hands now. She had made her own choices, and I’d allowed those choices to unfold without interference.
My decision to do nothing, to remain silent, had been correct.
What was done was done, and any part I might have played in all this was over.
Chapter 9
Christophe sent two hundred soldiers to guard our coastline. They were as skilled as promised, and for the first time in several years, I could see my father breathing easily.
Summer turned into autumn.
Word arrived from Whale’s Keep that Chloe and Christophe were expecting a child in mid-spring. My parents rejoiced at this news. Autumn turned into winter. We celebrated my eighteenth birthday. Then, before I knew it, winter was on the edge of turning into spring.
I wrote to Chloe nearly every week, but sometimes it was hard for me to chat of daily life here at the lodge. Though I struggled not to, I found myself counting months in my head and wondering if Chloe carried a boy or a girl.
Still, she was sorely missed here.
Her absence left a hole that Mother and I did our best to fill, but neither of us were skilled in entertaining other noblewomen—or at hosting tea or embroidery parties to gossip. I began to realize that most of the other women found us rather odd, and they commented on my mother’s “eccentric” habit of bringing medicines to our villagers.
Then one evening in late winter, not long before the dinner hour, a messenger arrived from Whale’s Keep and Jenny brought a letter to my room.
“Word from Lady Chloe.”
My dear Nicole,
Although by Christophe’s reckoning, the child will not arrive until mid-spring, I am growing heavy somewhat early and find myself a little fearful of the coming birth.
It would be a great comfort if you could convince Father to let you come and stay with me.
I know I could face what’s to come if I had you with me.
Love,
Chloe
I read this short missive several times. Chloe had never written me such a note. For her, this was the equivalent of begging. She was begging me to come.
This left me feeling torn. Though I ached to comfort her, to help her, if I went to Whale’s Keep, I would become part of her and Christophe’s fates. But reading the letter again, I heard the loneliness and the fear between the lines.
I could not refuse. She was my sister.
At present there were no noble guests visiting the lodge, as few people traveled at this time of year, and so as opposed to eating in the gathering hall, our family had taken to meeting for dinner in our small private dining room near to the kitchens.
After hiding the letter, I donned a cloak, left my room, and made my way down the passage and out the back door. Two of the great log constructions at the lodge served as residence for my family, and the dining room and kitchens were in the second building.
Going in the front doors, I headed through the entryway, past a staircase, and then through a tall archway into our dining room. Mother, Father, and Erik were already seated and I was the last to arrive.
“Am I late?” I asked.
“No, my girl,” Mother answered. “It’s been cold out today and I think the rest of us were early.”
“I’ve had a letter from Chloe,” I said. “She would like me to come and join her at Whale’s Keep until the baby comes. I should like to go.”
My father looked over at me. “Travel to Whale’s Keep? Now? Certainly not. You’ve no idea what the crossing from the shore will be like at this time of year. It’s difficult enough in summer. I’ll not risk one daughter for another.”
