Beloved (53 page)

She was frightened. Where was Richard? Had he left in disgust after last night?

“Denis, where is Dom Genelli?”

“My Lord Abbot asked me to tell you that Dom Genelli will be staying in the tower for a few days. I will be at your disposal.” He hesitated, seeing the worried look on her face. “I hope you don’t mind?”

“No, of course not.” She did her best to smile. “Please thank the Abbot for me.”

“I will. Can I get you anything else, Madame
?
”

“No, thank you, Denis.”

Christina sat back down in the big chair. She was grateful for Robert’s consideration. But the problem remained. Sooner or later she would have to face Richard. Sooner or later she would have to tell him the truth.

Four days later, after much soul searching and with a great deal of trepidation, Christina went to the cloister, hoping to encounter Richard. He appeared shortly after Sext.

“Dom Genelli?”

He turned, surprised to hear her voice, and quickly masked his expression as the other monks filed past him out of the church. He kept his eyes down, unable to hide his concern and not wishing to upset her.

“I wonder if I might have a moment of your time?” Christina asked, looking nervously from Richard to the other monks. She tried to smile in response to their nods, but she couldn’t concentrate.

Richard gestured for her to precede him as they moved away from the other men. He felt her anxiety and continued to look at the ground as they walked, trying to make it as easy for her as he could.

When they reached the end of the colonnade, Christina sat down. Richard stood in front of her at a respectful distance. And for the first time their eyes met. The anguish and concern Christina saw in his caused her to turn away.

“I was hoping,” she said, looking over her shoulder toward the well that stood in the center of the court, “that you might be the one to bring me my supper this evening.”

He came to her room that evening at the usual time. Christina thought herself prepared, but when he stepped through the door it was all she could do not to run to his arms and beg him to forgive her.

Richard felt the same. He set the tray down and took a step toward her. She backed away.

“I’m not sure where to begin,” she said softly. All the well-rehearsed words failed her.

“I think you’d best begin by telling me about Stefano.”

“Yes…Stefano…” She hesitated.

Richard’s heart was breaking. It must be as he imagined.

“Christina, if it’s Stefano you love, Stefano you want to be with, I’ll help you any way I can.” The look of anguish on her face prompted him to say, “I love you. I just want you to be happy.”

She began to cry and turned away from him. He went to her and took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him, and she collapsed into his arms, burying her face against his chest.

“I’m so sorry Chrissa. I’ve forced all this on you. But I didn’t know. If only you’d told me.”

She pushed away from him then. “No. That’s not it. I love you, Richard, not Stefano. You. It’s always been you. Always.”

“Then, Dear Heart, what is it? What’s causing you so much pain?”

Christina just shook her head. All her resolve had disappeared. Richard took her by the hand and led her to the chair in front of the fire. He sat down, and once again, pulled her onto his lap.

“Chrissa, this thing has been hanging between us since you came to the abbey. Don’t you think it’s time we got it all out in the open?”

Christina nodded. Finally she relaxed against his shoulder.

“Come, tell me about Stefano.”

She told him everything then, just as she’d told Robert. As Richard listened, tears of frustration filled his eyes and slid down his cheeks. It was his fault, all of it. If he hadn’t left her behind that day, none of it would have happened.

He let her go on until she was finished. Neither of them said anything for a long time. Finally, Richard had to ease her off his lap so he could add more wood to the fire. He stood there leaning on the mantel, unsure what he should say.

Christina misinterpreted his hesitation. She went to him, but was afraid to touch him. She was afraid what she would see in his eyes when he faced her again.

“Richard. I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I
am
sorry.”

Richard turned and swept her into his arms with an anguished sob. “Beloved, forgive me. Please. Forgive me.”

“Richard…what…?” Before she could finish, his mouth covered hers with a kiss of such passion and need that her knees gave way beneath her and she barely realized what was happening as he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

He made love to her all night with a tenderness and passion that left her reeling. It was as though he wanted to touch every part of her, body and soul, and heal every one of the unseen wounds that had nearly destroyed her life. Christina abandoned herself to his need, rejoicing in the fact that he still loved her.

Her life wasn’t over. It was just beginning.

Richard missed Matins and met Robert on the stairs as he went down for Lauds. He said nothing and Robert let it go until after the service, when he suggested that “Dom Genelli” see him in his office. Richard was loathe to leave Christina alone any longer than necessary, but did as he was told.

“Well?” Robert said when they were finally alone.

“I’m sorry I missed Matins, but I couldn’t leave her.”

“Is she all right?”

“I need to be with her, Robert. Now. She needs me.”

“She told you, then?”

“She told me.”

“And?”

“And what? Are you looking for a confession? Are you waiting for me to admit that it’s all my fault?”

“Of course not.” What had gotten into him? Robert was merely concerned for Christina and Richard’s reaction to what she’d told him. He was not looking to place blame on anyone’s shoulders except, perhaps, Guy’s. What was done was done, and nothing in heaven or earth could undo it.

“Richard,
peace
. Let me help you. Go to the tower and wait. I will arrange for you to be with Christina after Prime. All right?”

After Prime, Robert called Dom Louis to his office.

“I’m afraid that our Brother Genelli is having some problems. I will be keeping him with me in the tower to help him through this trial. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to take over for the next day or two until this crisis passes.”

“Of course, My Lord.”

“Don’t hesitate to come for me if it’s necessary, but please, only if you feel it’s something that requires my attention.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Please ask our Brothers to pray for him.”

“As you wish.” Dom Louis left the office with a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

Robert remained in the tower. He called Denis, who usually worked with the cellarer, and arranged for him to deliver Christina’s meals once again. He also asked Denis to spend some time in his library with him. Denis was confused by the request, but happy to have the opportunity to study with his much-admired abbot. He was there, pouring over Robert’s copy of the
Encyclopédie
when there was a knock at the door.

Robert sent him to his knees at the prie Dieu and pulled up his hood for him, instructing him to make no sound. Denis obeyed without question.

Robert opened the door to Dom Louis. “Yes?”

Dom Louis looked past him to the lone figure kneeling on the far side of the room. Robert blocked the door, and seemed to have no inclination to allow him into the room.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, My Lord, but this came for you.” He handed Robert a bulky packet. “It seems to require an immediate answer.”

“Very well.” Robert started to close the door, but Dom Louis had not moved. “Was there something else?”

“Uh…no.” With one more glance at the kneeling figure, he left.

It took two full days for Richard’s and Christina’s passion to subside. There was little said between them during that time, but every emotion possible was expressed in their lovemaking. It was as though each coupling of their bodies reaffirmed their lives, their commitment to each other and their future together. Christina felt as though she had been transported, far from all her fears and insecurities to a place where there was only Richard and their love for each other.

Finally, Richard sent a note to Robert saying that he would be at Matins the next morning and their lives recovered some semblance of normalcy. But as he walked the cloister with her in the afternoons, it was all he could do to keep from reaching out for her.

One evening after their shared supper, Christina was restless. She went to the mantel and fingered the items arranged along it until she came to the little wooden box.

“Richard, there’s something I must ask…” She didn’t turn to look at him, but stood there in front of the fire, toying with the smashed silver locket.

He moved closer to her, his fingers gently stroking her hair as his lips brushed the top of her head.

“What is it, Beloved?”

She could sense his smile in the softness of his voice. She closed her eyes, dreading the answer to the question that had been plaguing her. She put the locket back into the box and replaced the lid. Her fingers lay motionless on the cold stone in front of her.

“I’ve told you what happened to me since you left, but you’ve been gone for seven years. In all that time, has there been no one?”

His hands settled firmly on her shoulders. “No one?”

His voice was light, but Richard knew what she was asking. He prayed that she really didn’t want to know. He knew he couldn’t lie to her, but how much could he say?
And why, for the love of God, does she need to ask? We’ve been through so much in the last few days…can’t I spare her this?

“Has there been no one for you to care for? No one to care for you?”

His grip on her shoulders tightened. “Chrissa…don’t.”

It was a request—a warning—but she couldn’t leave it alone. Had there been someone, a wife, perhaps even children? Robert had hinted Richard had given up a great deal to come back to her. She turned, but couldn’t look at him. She was as afraid to see the truth in his eyes as she was to hear it from his lips.

“Please,” she said softly. “I need to know.”

His hands found their way to her shoulders again, but this time she felt his anger in their strength.

“Do you? Do you, really?” He was on the verge of shaking her and when he realized it, he immediately released her. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was frighten her. She’d had more than a lifetime’s worth of terror in the last seven years. He went to the window, trying to control his voice.

“Chrissa, please. I don’t want to do this.”

“I’m sorry. I need to know.”

“Are you sure? Do you really want to hear that for all the time we’ve been apart I’ve been loved and cared for by someone who was willing to share everything with me, even her children…?” His voice was soft but his fist slammed against the wooden shutter. “…while they lived.”

The guilt he felt for his inability to offer her the love she deserved, swept over him in a wave of frustration. Christina’s question reminded him, once again, that Arabella also suffered because of him.

“Oh, Chrissa,” he said, shaking his head. “How can you ask me to tell you that in these past seven years my love for you has driven a wedge between the two of us and deprived a kind and gentle and devoted woman of the love she should have had?”

He turned his head and looked at her, his grey eyes showing her the pain he felt. Why must he sacrifice Arabella’s happiness for Christina’s? Certainly Arabella deserved better.

“How can I tell you that while you were suffering at the hands of that monster you married and his despicable friend, I’ve been as content as I could possibly be without you?”

Richard turned away, staring blindly at the shutters, his elbows resting on the stone sill. He couldn’t believe that he was saying these things to her, but they’d been there all the time. Behind every kiss had been a pang of guilt for betraying his beautiful Bella.

Carefully, Christina placed both hands on his back, tenderly running her fingers over the hard muscles beneath the coarse cloth of his robe.

“My dearest love,” she whispered through her tears. “You’ll never know how much I’m comforted by the thought that you’ve been happy.”

He took her in his arms, pressing her tightly against him. “Oh, Chrissa, not that. Not happy. Never, for one moment, have I ever been truly happy without you.”

She reached up and touched the tears on his cheeks. He took her hands in his, pressing her fingers to his lips.

“Can you ever forgive me?” he asked.

“For what?”

“For leaving you to this. For spending seven years away from you and never once, in all that time, imagining you as anything but happy.”

She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his chest. “Just promise me we’ll never be separated again.”

“I promise, Beloved. I promise.”

Est-ce que j’ose croire que le bonheur est enfin à moi?

—Mathon

Dare I believe that happiness is mine at last?

Novembre 1759

Venice

Stefano’s coach was delayed by a bitterly cold rainstorm that muddied the roads and slowed their progress. Stefano, himself, was damp and muddy, on several occasions having added his strength to that of the other men in order to free the mired wheels. Consequently, he was not in a particularly good mood when they arrived in Venice, nearly three hours late. It was after seven when he caught the ferry, crossed the lagoon and entered the heart of the city. It was cold and windy. Most of the clouds had blown away and a nearly full moon touched those that remained with an eerie silver light, which did nothing to lighten his mood.

He went first to the factory, which he found locked up tight for the night, and then on to Guy’s house on the Calle Fuiberra behind the Piazza San Marco. Stefano had spent little time thinking about returning to the city of his birth. His major concern was the reception he would be receiving at the Jonvaux house.