by Jill Hughey
She had learned at her father’s side to immediately and judiciously address even the smallest infractions. This horrible Bavarian unknowingly used her own philosophy to invoke Louis’s authority over her. He unwittingly recited a canon she not only understood, but also preached to her own subjects. “I have done nothing against him,” Rochelle protested weakly.
“Every word you have spoken out here would be perceived by him as dissent against his authority. He is not in a forgiving mood, having just recovered his throne from his sons. Any resistance – and I mean any resistance – to his dictates will be interpreted as treason. It isn’t a question of what you want, or future impact on the empire or whether you need a day or a year to determine that I will make you a very good husband.” He smiled a bit at that part, the horrid man. “You are either for Louis or against Louis. Today. If you refuse to do his bidding, today, he will consider you an enemy, today. He will take your estate. Make no mistake about that. He will take it and hand it over to one of the men in the aula palatina, and no amount of weeping or reasoning or cajoling will get it back.” Almost as an afterthought, David added, “And he might also send you to a convent, which would be a damned waste.”
“Well put,” Theo commended, studying David as if he’d just done something unexpected. “He is right, you know.”
If I cannot trust you to do what is best for Alda then I will release you from your service to me. She’d said it to Samuel ten days ago, and Louis had basically said it to her today. “I know he is right,” Rochelle spat out, her stomach sinking as the truth settled uncomfortably. To David’s credit, he did not betray any emotion at her words. He continued watching her with those steady brown eyes. Those interested, challenging, sympathetic eyes. “Let us go sign the thing then,” she flung at him bitterly.
He showed great wisdom in refraining from latching on to her elbow again.
Chapter Six
David, Rochelle, and Theo walked toward the west-facing entrance of the palatine chapel, Rochelle’s pace decidedly slower than when she thought she was dashing back to her mother. David didn’t mind, as long as she kept moving. Indeed, he could use a few moments to consider this woman to whom he would soon be legally bound.
He had no preconceived notions of what a wife would be like. The wife of his guardian, a distant cousin of his mother’s, had had very little to do with his upbringing. Since leaving that home twelve years ago, women of Rochelle’s status had not been part of his every day life. He spent his springs and summers in camp with Louis’s army, falls and winters in a variety of places. Though a man of his social and physical stature certainly attracted the attention of local girls and their parents wherever he was, a woman of Rochelle’s wealth or position had not crossed his path in years. And if one had, he could not imagine a situation in which he would have enjoyed as vast a demonstration of the dimensions of her personality as he had with Rochelle today.
She was headstrong, and stubborn, and hugely naive, but he had to admire her controlled reaction to being forced into the world of imperial politics. Louis had completely blindsided her today – thanks to her spineless mother – but she’d done her best to protect her own interests, as hopeless as that had been. She’d raised her voice only once, when the emperor had mentioned a convent. He smiled thinking about it. She had not dissolved into weeping or whining or theatrics. In truth, she had physically wavered only once, when her feet were numb from kneeling.
She kept her back straight and hadn’t cowered from any man, no matter how superior to her in rank or size. Her neighbor’s reasoning did not sway her. Theo had only angered her with sentimental talk of her father. Only the very harshest facts impressed the precariousness of her situation on her. Submit, or lose the thing you value most in your life.
The dose would be bitter to swallow for anyone. He knew men who would have wept on Louis’s hem if he’d made such a spectacle of them. Not Rochelle.
And David’s physical attraction to her continued to increase. When he’d held her beside him as they’d exited the aula palatina, he could feel the trim strength of her body but also gentle curves, a mere suggestion of a woman’s softness beneath the layers of her clothing. Her eyes had flashed and her cheeks pinkened as they’d argued in the square. She would be mortified to know his thoughts of matrimony were solidifying to the point of distraction.
After a life of relative sexual solitude, the idea of spending night upon night in a real bed with a receptive woman nearly brought tears to his eyes. Of course, getting Rochelle into said bed would undoubtedly require days or weeks of persuasion. He was a patient man, accustomed to biding his time for the precise right moment to attack and conquer. The first maneuver in this conquest was about to be completed.
He glanced at Rochelle. Her fingers worried the embroidered edge of her cloak. Did she even know what she would be asked to do in the chapel? In practice, a betrothal was usually negotiated between the prospective husband and the father of the prospective bride. As Rochelle had no living male relative, the emperor had taken the opportunity to act on her behalf, and according to Theo’s explanation of the terms, had been reasonable in his treatment of her. She would never have to leave Alda as long as she and David were married, or as long as the politics of the empire didn’t go entirely to hell.
It was rather odd, now that he thought about it, that she had retained Alda after her father’s death. Louis would have been quite within his rights to simply give it to any man of his choosing. David suspected Theo’s machinations behind the protection of Rochelle and her mother.
Rochelle paused, staring at the lions’ heads decorating the heavy bronze door to the chapel. On a normal day, David would have stopped with her to study the metalwork, but this was no ordinary day. He sensed that he should keep Rochelle moving through the betrothal process so her rationalizing didn’t carry her into trouble again. He opened the door to an immense rectangular atrium, with light marble floors and marble veneer on the walls. A nervous clerk awaited them there, fairly hopping from one foot to the other in agitation. Behind him, far at the other end, stood the octagonal chapel.
“Oh, praise God,” the thin balding man clamored as they approached. “I was beginning to think I would have to go back there with the document unsigned.” He wiped his sweaty forehead with a corner of his cloak, knocking his tattered cap slightly askew. “All is in an uproar since Nijmegan. A month ago, I did not know if I would be a clerk to the emperor or have my eyes yanked out by his sons for not joining their rebellion. Such times to live in,” he lamented.
David could not resist some teasing. “Puts marriage into perspective,” he mused.
“Yes, indeed, sir.” A beatific smile broke on his ruddy face. “And marriage to such a worthy lady. My great sir, you must have pleased the emperor immensely. It is an honor to you both to be noticed so specifically by our leader.”
Rochelle stood as rigid as one of the chapel pillars, her expression clearly not one of a woman feeling honored. David inclined his head at the clerk. “We are overwhelmed. In fact, the lady is overset by the entire experience. If we could just move on to the betrothal agreement?”
The clerk became instantly solicitous. “Forgive me, my lady, I should find a chair for you.”
“No!” she said, her overly loud protest echoing off the stone walls. “No, thank you. I would simply like to do whatever it is the emperor requires. Today.”
David took notice to that last word she added. Did she really consider the signing of the contract as another stalling tactic? The girl’s mind never stopped working.
The clerk beckoned them. “Here, then, over to this little table. I have the two copies,” he said, offering one to David. “One for you and one for the emperor. Would you like me to read aloud?”
“No, I can read it,” David answered, not surprised by the clerk’s raised eyebrows. Most noblemen hired little skinny fellows just like this to do their reading and writing. He skimmed over the brief document, finding it exactly as he
expected. David turned to Rochelle. She stared at the parchment in his hand as if it was a poisonous snake. “Shall I read it to you?”
Her eyes met his, once again startling him with their color and forthrightness. “I would prefer to do so myself,” she replied. David cocked one eyebrow up. She blushed. “My father loved books. He even owned a few with drawings. He used to show them to me. I could not help but learn letters and words.”
“Will the surprises never end?” he asked rhetorically.
“Probably not,” she assured him sharply.
David’s loud laugh filled the atrium. He handed her the contract with a courteous bow. She read it with much more care than he had, her expression becoming more confused with each word. When finished, she studied his face as though it hid a secret.
“Will you really bring all this treasure to your marriage?”
“Ah, so now I surprise you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You thought I was a poor wastrel with no ability to make his own way in the world.”
“No, I –.” She stumbled over her words, clearly at a loss.
The clerk cleared his throat. “If you could just sign so I can take the emperor’s copy back. He gets rather agitated when work does not progress efficiently. Your friend here can be our witness,” he added, gesturing toward Theo.
“What if I do not sign?” Rochelle asked suddenly.
Theo groaned.
“Not sign!” The clerk’s cap began jiggling on his head. “Everybody signs! This parchment contains the emperor’s words, his wishes! And people just, well, they just sign!” He mopped his brow again.
“Rochelle,” David warned.
She gave a tinkling laugh as she fluttered her eyelashes at the clerk. David watched with interest. Here was a side he hadn’t seen of her yet: Rochelle as a flirt. “Pray, kind sir, what is your name?” she asked.
“My name? You do ask the oddest questions. My name is Audulf.”
“Audulf. Such a distinguished name. You obviously know the way things work here. But I,” she laid a slim hand on her chest,” I have never been to a palace before, much less been called in front of Louis himself. I am only asking, hypothetically of course, what would happen if some rebel simply said ‘no, I will not sign it.’”
“The whole idea is preposterous,” Audulf announced.
“Yes, but what if?” Rochelle pressed. When he didn’t speak, she gushed, “It must be so exciting to work so closely with Louis. You are probably privy to such important events! I am just wondering what he is really like.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “ It is said that his father, Charlemagne, was a most compassionate man. If a person felt so strongly in her – er, his heart that he should not do what the emperor commanded, would Louis not hear his plea and be merciful?”
“Merciful?” the clerk repeated, as though testing the word out for the first time in his life. “You are asking what happens to a person who disagrees with Louis and refuses to comply with an edict?”
“Yes, but just a little one,” Rochelle clarified, setting her thumb and forefinger a short span apart. “One little edict.”
“Fire and smoke,” David muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.
“I understand,” the clerk said, leaning heavily on the table. The topic obviously made him very nervous, yet he still attended her, getting almost moon-faced. “In the very few instances of outright defiance I have witnessed, and I must stress these are very few…”
Rochelle shifted forward slightly, eager for the man’s next words. David watched her, resolved to quickly put a stop to this nonsense, no matter what answer the infatuated fool gave her.
“In those cases,” the clerk continued, “the man has lost all his land, all his assets, has at times been banished from the country, and in one case, the pope excommunicated him, though that was a very special case of extremely poor judgment by the perpetrator.”
Rochelle’s eyes widened with each word, then she sagged. David exerted a great deal of mental effort to keep his face devoid of expression, so that when her defeated eyes met his, he was able to look back at her in complete calm.
“Shall we?” David asked, inviting her to pick up the quill on the desk.
Rochelle’s mark was simple, her skill at the creation of letters less practiced than her reading. She quickly signed both copies, then stood back so David could do the same.
He wanted to raise his fist in triumph. This contract set him on the path for the next phase of his life, that of a landed family man. The combination of a well-run estate along with a wife who could teach him how to manage it was an unexpected windfall. Theo had indeed brought him the answer to his prayers.
The fact that Theo once harbored his own romantic inclinations toward Rochelle still bothered David, though Rochelle had given no sign of returning that interest. She vigorously protested the fact of marriage itself, with no indication that her dissent would lessen for a different bridegroom. He didn’t know if he should feel encouraged or insulted by that.
He would be a good husband. He would try to allay her fears and make her more comfortable with him. Gaining her allegiance would make his domestic life infinitely easier. And he felt a strange kinship, almost as though they could become friends if given time, which proved he had gone completely around the bend since meeting her just two hours ago.
Audulf happily reviewed the signed betrothal contracts, then handed one copy to David with a smile. “Now I am to say that while it is customary to finalize the marriage in 40 days, Louis desires that you do so sooner.” David chuckled as Rochelle turned away.
Rochelle needed a moment to compose her thoughts. Less than 40 days, indeed! She walked along the wall of the atrium, studying the patterns in the marble. She trailed her fingers against the dark veins in the stone until she got to the doorway of the chapel where she stopped in awe. She’d never seen a building like it. Eight pillars built of stone blocks formed the corners of a two story octagon. On the first story the pillars supported arches of alternating dark and light stone blocks. Stacked upon these were second story arches divided into thirds by Roman columns of marble. Arched clerestory windows, eight of which provided light for the domed, frescoed ceiling, capped each second story arch. A gallery on the second floor and an aisle on the first ran outside of the pillars, bordered by a sixteen-sided exterior wall.
Rochelle wandered to the center of the chapel, turning slowly to absorb its height and grandeur. David approached her, hands clasped behind his back as he also looked curiously around the room. He squinted at the metal railings at the edge of the gallery. He was rather handsome in the shadowy light, the high bones of his cheeks standing in relief. She turned away from him. Surely the tension she felt was due to the stress of the day, and not the sudden awareness of him nearby.
She walked forward, hiding her discomfiture by pretending to study the altar. Audulf’s voice echoed from behind her. “Ah, Louis will be so glad to know you are spending a moment in this most sacred place. He was crowned here, you know, and his father’s remains are interred here.”
“Is it permissible for me to go to the second story to look at the railings?” David asked.
“That is the royal gallery,” Audulf said cautiously. “But I suppose no harm would come from it. Just do not sit on Charlemagne’s throne,” he added with a smile. “I must return to the emperor. May I be the first to congratulate you both on a well made match.” He left them looking at each other awkwardly.
“Ah, would you care to see the gallery?” David asked.
Though she would like to see it, she needed another moment to herself. “I think I will stay here.”
“You will not make a run for home while I am not looking?” he asked with the hint of a smile.
The smile made him look more boyish and playful than she had seen yet today, and she felt an unwelcome flush rise in her cheeks. “I might.”
His grin broadened. “Then it is a very good thing I know where you live.” He left her, callin
g to Theo who still waited in the atrium. She heard two sets of footsteps climb the steps housed in an adjoining tower.
Rochelle faced the altar, finally alone with the emotions making a whirling maelstrom in her head. How to make sense of it all?
She decided to start at the beginning, and immediately felt the bite of anger as she recalled her mother blithely sending her to the emperor with no warning of his intentions. She knew her mother avoided confrontations when at all possible, remaining silent rather than risking an outburst. This tendency had worsened in the three years since Father had died. Rochelle would have to talk to her about it. Marian could not keep her daughter in the dark to evade Rochelle’s resistance. If only Theophilus had sent the message to Rochelle to begin with.
Of course, if Rochelle married, a fate she was determined to avoid, her husband would receive all official correspondence. With the addition of a man to the household, she would be cut out of most of the estate’s business. The tenants might still look to her for direction, but any person outside the boundaries of her own land would expect to deal with her husband.
She forced herself to think about a husband as a nameless, faceless shadow in her mind, not the tall, powerfully built Bavarian running his strong hands over the railings overhead. She sensed danger in allowing David’s image to occupy the place of husband in her thoughts. Carelessly planting that first seed might lead directly to the thistly weed patch of matrimony.
In fact, she felt cautious about entertaining any thoughts of him at all. She was drawn to him, even now unconsciously listening for the rich timbre of his voice as he spoke to Theo above her. He caused a stirring deep within her, in a place she hadn’t known existed and wasn’t sure she dared to acknowledge. She found this distraction aggravating when her thoughts should be focused in counterpoint to any direction leading toward David.
