Beloved (54 page)

It was Guy who’d answered his letter, so apparently Guy was the one most anxious to see him again. Of course, with Guy it was always hard to tell. Perhaps he’d been invited to join them simply so he could punish Stefano for fathering Christina’s child. It was possible, but he chose to believe it unlikely. He was confident his strong resemblance to Richard would guarantee his safety. Whatever the outcome, Stefano had decided he was willing to risk anything to see his child.

Christina. He hadn’t realized how completely she trusted him, and how precious her trust was. Her total surrender that night in Aix had taken him by surprise. No one had ever trusted him that way—totally. No one. And since they’d parted, Stefano had convinced himself that her pregnancy should have been the beginning for the two of them, not the end.

With these thoughts swirling around in his head, and no small amount of trepidation, he lifted the heavy knocker on the gate to the courtyard of Guy’s house. After a short delay the gate was opened by Guy’s servant, André.

“Why Monsieur Ferro! How good to see you again! Monsieur Jonvaux said we should be expecting you sometime soon. Come in, please. And let me take your bags.”

Stefano followed André across the courtyard and into the house. He’d never liked Guy’s body servant. He knew André was jealous of his influence over Guy and he quite simply didn’t trust the man. But André had been with Guy for years and Stefano had never been able to convince Guy to get rid of him. Stefano considered Marie, Christina’s personal maid, stupid and therefore harmless, though he suspected that André manipulated her easily and she was consequently of some danger to Christina. He was confident the day would come when they would be replaced by people
he
could influence.

André set Stefano’s bags down and proceeded to help him with his very damp overcoat. Guy, wondering why André had not returned to the dining room, excused himself from the table. When he reached the entry hall Stefano’s back was to him. When he turned, Guy was startled.
Richard!
But of course it wasn’t. It was Stefano. But how very like Richard, he thought.
How very like him!
Oh, he’d quite forgotten!

“So, the prodigal returns!” How had he ever allowed Stefano to leave?

“Guy!” Stefano immediately embraced him. He’d determined the best approach would be one of openness and innocence until he could tell which way the winds of Guy’s emotions were blowing.

“So,” Guy said, looking genuinely pleased as he took in the overall prosperous air of his friend. “Have you eaten? We just sat down to supper.”

“No, I haven’t, but I’m afraid I need to change.” Stefano gestured to indicate his mud spattered boots clothes.

“I’ll have André prepare a bath, but come, have something to eat.”

Stefano followed Guy into the dining room. She was sitting with her back to him and Stefano felt a tremor of anticipation. He knew Guy was watching him, but he didn’t care. He moved up behind her, gently putting his hands on her shoulders as he bent to kiss the nape of her neck.

“Christina. It’s good to see you,” he said softly.

Guy let out a laugh. “Sorry to disappoint you dear, but I’m afraid my wife stayed behind in Arles. Allow me to present Signorina Sansone—Maria, to her friends.”

Guy’s smile was unnecessarily suggestive. Stefano had no doubt about the reason for her being there. Nonetheless, he took her fingers to his lips as she turned to smile at him.

“Forgive me, Signorina,” he said courteously. She was terribly young. Sixteen at the most, and not nearly as pretty as Christina.

“And the child?” Stefano said coldly. “Is the child with your wife?”
Two could play this little game, and the sooner he reminded Guy of it, the better.

“Child?” For a moment Guy was nonplussed. Then he realized it was the urge to see the child that had brought Stefano back to him. There was a vicious glint in his eye when he answered.

“But of course, you don’t know. I’m afraid my wife lost her baby. She had a bad fall. We thought at first that she was going to be all right but…well, I suppose it just wasn’t meant to be.” He pulled out a chair for Stefano. “But enough old news. Come, have a seat. You see, here’s your soup.”

Stefano sat down and allowed himself to be served, though he’d quite lost his appetite.

Later that night, as he relaxed in the tub, Stefano pondered the wisdom of his decision to return to Guy. He was confident he could regain Guy’s affection. But what of Christina? Was she now resigned to being his wife, so much so that Guy left her behind with no concerns she might disappear?

His thoughts were interrupted when Guy entered the room clad only in a silk dressing gown and carrying two glasses of brandy. He offered one to Stefano and took the small chair between the tub and the fire. Guy smiled, obviously pleased with what he saw as his eyes roamed hungrily over Stefano’s body.

Stefano responded with a smile of his own, one meant to be especially winning as he proposed a toast.

“To old friends,” he said, leaning over to touch his glass to Guy’s.

“That’s nice,” Guy said, raising his glass to his lips.

There was silence between them for a while. Stefano did his best to appear completely relaxed. There were too many unanswered questions, questions he wasn’t prepared to ask, just yet. But he decided it might be safe to approach the subject of Christina again.

“Guy, is Christina all right?”

“Yes. She’s fine from all reports.”

“You left her in Arles?”

“She’s at the abbey. She became difficult and it seemed prudent.”

Guy watched Stefano closely, but his expression remained unchanged. His head rested against the high back of the tub, his eyes closed, looking perfectly relaxed.

“She had a rather hard time of it after she lost the baby, but then she settled down and became quite reasonable. I admit I was looking forward to having her here with me for the winter, but…well it didn’t work out that way.”

“I’m sorry,” Stefano said carefully. “I would have enjoyed seeing her again.” His eyes remained closed.

“I’m sure you would. And the baby, too, no doubt.” Guy’s tone was sarcastic. He took another sip of brandy and waited for Stefano’s reaction.

“I admit I was curious,” Stefano said, glancing over at Guy. “You don’t begrudge me that, do you?”

“It makes little difference, now.” Guy paused for a moment then fixed Stefano with a piercing stare. “I never should have let her send you away. I admit it made me very angry at the time. That decision was mine to make, not Christina’s.”

“I know. I never should have gone. But…well, what’s done is done.”

“What’s important is that you’ve come back.”

“Yes.”

Guy seemed to relax and Stefano decided his responses had been accepted.

“So, that cryptic allusion to ‘a departed friend’ in your letter?” Guy asked, his tone disinterested.

“Oh, yes. I thought you might want to hear about that. I was staying with a woman in Marseilles.”

“A woman?”

“Nothing serious, just passing the time…I ran into him on my way to a card game.”

“Him?”
Is it possible?
Had Stefano met Richard in Marseilles?

“Why, my twin!” Stefano laughed. “You would have been amazed. I know I was. He was wearing a beard, but I swear to you, if he shaved, you wouldn’t have been able to tell us apart.”

“And did you speak with him?”

“Oh, yes. We had a drink together. He’s a sailor, from Venice originally. Bonelli was the name.”

For a moment Guy said nothing. Wasn’t Bonelli the name of the whore Richard planned to marry?

“A sailor, you say?”

“Yes. He said he was on his way to Spain. The woman I was with expressed an interest in contacting him again.” Stefano smiled thinking of Sabine. “She had an appetite that wasn’t always easy to satisfy.”

“And why did you think this might interest me?”
How much does he know?
Guy tried to maintain a tone of indifference.

Stefano set his empty glass on the floor beside the tub and stood up. Guy picked up the towel, but didn’t hand it to him.

Stefano smiled. “I’m familiar with your appetites, too, remember?” He just stood there, not two feet from Guy, giving him a chance to admire the flesh Stefano knew he still hungered for. “I know how much you cared for Richard. I just thought you might like to know there seems to be yet another man molded in his image.”

“I see.” Guy finally handed Stefano the towel, his eyes roamng hungrily over his body.

“You must admit, a ‘twin’ might suggest some interesting alternatives.” Stefano smiled suggestively as he slowly dried himself, each movement carefully calculated to remind Guy of what he had to offer.

“True,” Guy said as Stefano stepped out of the tub. “But just now, I think I’d like you to convince me that you really have missed me.”

Stefano tossed the towel aside and pulled Guy to his feet, gazing into his eyes with abject sincerity.

“Haven’t you missed me, too?” he whispered.

Guy’s eyes closed as his lips parted. Richard had returned to him.

Later, while Guy slept, Stefano lay awake staring at the ludicrous portrait of Christina that was hanging over the fireplace in Guy’s room. Even in the dim light, he could see the seductive expression, so unlike the woman he remembered. The artist had depicted her as wanton, reclining on a couch covered in rumpled silk and beckoning the viewer to join her there. The likeness was remarkable, but Stefano couldn’t bring himself to believe that the Christina he knew could have posed for it. More likely the artist had done the face from life and the body from description. Unless Christina had changed. Was it possible? But then Guy had said he left her behind because she was being “difficult.” The woman in the painting didn’t look difficult at all.

Robert loved the conservatory. The glass structure attached to the herbarium was a little indulgence he’d allowed himself. It had been completed about the same time the new chapterhouse was finished, and in the end had proved to be a very practical addition. He spent many mornings there puttering with the plants that were the basis of his medicines. He cultivated useful herbs year round, and cut back considerably on what had to be purchased elsewhere. Now that the weather had turned cold, every one of his sixty-one years was making itself felt and he valued the time he was able to spend in the glass-enclosed area that dependably caught the warmth of the morning sun.

On that particular morning, he was thinking of Richard and Christina. The change in her since she’d told Richard her terrible secret had been nothing short of remarkable. The color returned to her cheeks, her hair began to shine and she’d put on a little weight. The overall effect was one of radiance, a beauty only hinted at in the girl she’d been.

Robert realized some time ago that he couldn’t keep the lovers apart. Despite the warnings of the wages of sin and other dire threats of punishment his religion was so full of, Robert could only think of Richard and Christina as husband and wife. And he knew they felt the same way. There was nothing that could convince him that their love was a sin. What they shared—what they had shared their whole lives—was extremely rare and he could only believe it a gift from God. He prayed daily that they would be able to leave Arles safely and live out the rest of their lives together in peace and the happiness they both deserved.

Dom Louis appeared and put an end to his musings with a request for something to settle his stomach. That such a man should have digestive problems was no surprise to Robert. They were conversing quietly when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see Richard standing at a discreet distance, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his brown robe, presenting the perfect picture of an obedient monk.

“Ah, Dom Genelli. I will be with you in a moment,” Robert said, looking past Dom Louis to his brother.

He handed the priest a small bundle of dried leaves in hopes of distracting him. Dom Louis had been eyeing Richard suspiciously. Robert was beginning to feel that the sour-faced monk was paying Richard far more attention of late than was necessary, and he did his best to separate them whenever he could.

“Just make a tea of it and take it morning and evening. I’m sure it will offer some relief,” Robert said, ushering the man to the doorway.

“Thank you.” Dom Louis bowed solicitously.

As he left the conservatory, Dom Louis stared pointedly at his silent Brother, but the younger man bowed as he passed, avoiding his gaze.

“Well, what can I do for you so early in the morning?” Robert was amused by the look on Richard’s face, confident he knew why he’d come.

“It’s Christina. She’s feeling ill again.” Richard began to pace up and down among wooden tables and benches, all of them covered with plants. “Perhaps some raspberry leaves, spearmint…anything else you can suggest.”

“She has no fever? No other complaints?”

Richard looked questioningly at his brother. “No…she seems fine. She’s only troubled in the mornings.”

Shaking his head, Robert began to chuckle. “This has been going on for two weeks.”

“Yes…what is it? Why are you laughing?” There was an edge of annoyance in Richard’s voice. He certainly didn’t find anything amusing about the idea of Christina being ill.

“Didn’t I teach you anything?” Robert smiled. “I suspect congratulations are in order.”

“
What
are you talking about?” Richard said, at the same time throwing his hands in the air in a frustrated attempt to punctuate his whispered words.

“I suspect that you’re about to become a father.”

“
WHAT!?
”

Robert pretended to be preoccupied with the thought. “I suppose that will make me an uncle…of sorts…” he said, placing a finger on his chin and rolling his eyes heavenward, as if making an effort to unravel an impossibly complicated relationship.

Richard was suddenly serious. “But she’s said nothing.”

The older man laid a consoling hand on his shoulder, his smile now one of sympathy.

“You must remember she lost a child earlier this year. Perhaps she just wants to be sure.”