Beloved (9 page)

Having Geneviève with them for the rest of the night had somehow seemed to cheer Maryse, and Richard was now satisfied that she was ready to go through with her marriage to the baker. He reached up to caress her cheek for the last time, his other arm still around Geneviève.

“Be happy, Maryse,” he said as he leaned over to kiss her. “And you…” he said, looking at Geneviève.

“Yes?” she said innocently even as she slid her hand suggestively down the front of his breeches.

He caught hold of her wrist and brought her fingers to his lips. “
You
, behave yourself.”

They all laughed and Richard disentangled himself from them. He kissed them both quickly and left. The women stood arm in arm, and watched him go.

Silently, the door across the hall closed.

He was not surprised when Guy failed to meet him that afternoon, and finally, at five o’clock, Richard left for home alone. It was a two hour ride, one he would rather have made with a companion, but it did give him some time to think about Guy.

Richard was still angry about the events of the past night and disgusted by Guy’s behavior. He’d never seen that facet of his friend’s personality, and he’d be the first to admit it had come as a very unpleasant surprise. He would have liked to pass it off as a singular event, attributable to alcohol, but then there was Claire. If Guy had given her that horrible scar, how could Richard imagine he really knew Guy? He was determined to get to the bottom of it, one way or another.

But it was not to be. Guy returned to Beauvu the next afternoon. When he asked to speak to Richard privately, he merely apologized for his behavior, and refused to say anything more. When Richard brought up Guy’s previous request to discuss whatever had upset him at the party, Guy dismissed it as unimportant.

Christina had only nine more days with Richard that summer before she returned to her school in Venice. She spent Christmas at Beauvu and Richard was there with her for eleven days before he returned to the ships. To her, it seemed so little.

Her winter was a busy one, for that year the Conservatorio performed in Naples, Venice and Florence, each program requiring a solo of Christina. And while she enjoyed the attention she received for her beautiful voice, she longed for Richard, but was forced to content herself with his letters.

The following summer, Richard made a point to spend the first two months with Christina, but by the end of the first week of August, he was off again.

Guy had found himself a young lady and was dividing his time between that new romantic interest and working with his father in Arles. Christina saw little of him. Her brother, Marco, was seeing quite a bit of Lise Rouffet and, of course, taking care of his own share of the family business. He did his best to spend some time with his sister, but it was little enough and Christina was lonely.

It seemed that her girlfriends could talk of nothing but the eligible young men that summer and which one they hoped to dance with at the next party. It bored Christina. She knew whom she loved and whom she was going to marry, and it seemed to her that time was passing much too slowly. She didn’t understand why she and Richard couldn’t marry and get on with their lives. Growing up took entirely too much time to suit her.

Finally, she went to stay a few weeks with Cybelle and her new son, Mathieu, but even there, she seemed at loose ends. Christina enjoyed the baby, but he only made her long for a family of her own. Half of her life was missing, as it always was when she was separated from Richard.

Les avertissements que murmure le vent,

nous ne les entendons pas néanmoins.

—Pélédan

Warnings whispered in the wind, yet we know them not.

Décember 1751

Beauvu

Christmas Eve morning was cold and grey at dawn and the weather didn’t seem inclined to improve as the day wore on. The sun refused to show its face as the wind rattled the bare branches of the elms lining the wide entrance to Beauvu, gently reminding those inside the château to be grateful for the warmth of their fires.

Despite the coziness of the library and the presence of friends and family, Christina was restless. She paced back and forth in front of the tall windows, stopping occasionally to stare out at the empty gravel drive with such intense concentration it was as if she felt she could somehow will Richard to appear. She was slowly losing her struggle for patience.

She turned and smiled a little sheepishly at Lise, who was watching her from the far corner of the room. Lise returned Christina’s smile and came to stand beside her, slipping her arm sympathetically around her friend’s waist.

Christina was very fond of her brother’s young lady. Lise was a sweet, quiet girl, the daughter of a banker in Arles and only two years older than Christina. Christina was happy Lise had joined them for the holiday and they’d become friends over the past week. But since Christina had first awakened that morning, all her thoughts had been for Richard, and Lise’s well-meaning efforts to distract her failed.

“He’s coming, Tina,” Lise reminded her in a reassuring whisper.

They’d been in the library most of the afternoon—Antonio, Marcel, Louis and Grégoire, Marco, Guy and the girls. Robert was missing from the gathering, his duties at the abbey making it impossible for him to celebrate Christmas at home, and Cybelle was busy with her own family.

They were all engaged in various restful pursuits, except of course, Christina. Her pacing was beginning to get on everyone’s nerves. Guy, in particular, had been watching her, growing more impatient with her restlessness as the hours passed.

“Christina, come away from the window. You and Lise can join us for a game of cards. It may be hours yet before Richard arrives.” Guy’s tone made his annyoance obvious.

“I know,” she said, nervously plucking at the lace on the front of her gown.

She glanced in Guy’s direction but quickly looked away. He was paying her too much attention again, as he had ever since he’d suddenly broken off with the mayor’s daughter in Fontvielle. Christina was curious about what had happened between them, but Guy had said nothing except that he was no longer seeing the girl.

Louis also watched Christina, and not without sympathy. He missed Richard, too. He loved Christina like a daughter and couldn’t have been more pleased that Richard intended to make her his wife. She was a beautiful girl, a sweet girl. She would make a magnificent Baroness.

“I suspect you’ll find things have changed between you and Richard, my dear,” Louis said to Christina, winking across the room at Antonio. Both men exchanged knowing looks and laughed.

Christina’s heart skipped a beat. What did they mean? She looked from one to the other in alarm. Surely Richard hadn’t changed? She couldn’t bear it. She didn’t want him to change. She didn’t want anything to change, except she wanted them to be married. She didn’t realize Louis and her father knew the changes that had taken place were the changes in her.

“Tina, if you don’t cheer up, Richard will have no reason to come home,” Antonio said, hoping to lighten his daughter’s mood.

Christina felt her cheeks burning and stamped her satin shod foot.

“Papa!” She was in no mood to be teased.

With a sympathetic eye to his sister’s suffering, Marco finally put down the cards he was holding.

“Tina, please. Join us. A game will make the time go faster.”

She ignored him, stubbornly refusing to shift her gaze from the drive.

Grégoire laid his book aside, got up and went to join the girls at the window, placing a gentle hand on Christina’s shoulder.

“We’ve all missed Richard, Christina. Come, let’s have that game of cards. I promise you the servants will let us know the minute he arrives.”

Christina looked up at Grégoire. He was a handsome young man, tall and slim and with his light brown hair and blue eyes he was a natural balance to Richard’s dark features. Every bit as kind and as gentle as Richard, Grégré was quieter by nature and perhaps a bit less quick to laugh, but Christina had always enjoyed his company.

She smiled and took his hand, following him to the table. Lise took the chair next to Marco, but Christina quickly sat down beside her so that Grégré sat next to Guy. The five of them quietly began a new game.

Christina felt Guy’s strange pale blue eyes on her as they played. It was nothing specific really, just the awkward feeling he was always watching her, that he wanted something from her. She didn’t know what it was, but she didn’t like it. She finally gathered her courage and met his gaze defiantly, only to have Guy smile and shift his attention to Lise.

They played quietly for a little more than an hour before Christina heard the sound of horse hooves on the gravel beyond the window. Dropping her cards and nearly overturning her chair in her haste, she gathered her skirts, flew to the window, and looking out, saw one of the servants catch the bridle of Richard’s lathered grey gelding.

She was sure that she would absolutely burst with excitement as she threw open the library doors and ran out into the hall. Marco started to get up from the table to follow, but Grégré laid a restraining hand on his arm. Marco looked at him quizzically and then realized that his friend only wanted to give Christina a chance to be the first to greet Richard.

Everyone in the room smiled. Everyone, that is, except Guy, who could only scowl as he bent down to pick up the cards she had scattered across the carpet.

The château, lavishly decorated for the holidays, welcomed Richard with warmth and familiarity as did the servants. It helped him shake off the chill of the long ride. Henri took his horse and he dismounted, shaking hands with Albert and handing him the covered basket he’d carried over his arm all the way from Arles.

“Take very good care of this for me until this evening, will you?” Richard asked, smiling at the expression on Albert’s face as he peeked into the basket.

“Yes, Sir! My granddaughters will take
very
good care of this!” There was a twinkle in the old man’s eye as he spoke.

Richard smiled, too, as he turned away from them and bounded up one side of the curving stone steps. It felt very good to be home.

Etienne had barely opened the door before Christina flew past.

“Richard!” she cried, jumping up and flinging both her arms around his neck just as he crossed the threshold.

“Chrissa.” He laughed as he lifted her off the ground and hugged her, obviously amused by her enthusiastic welcome. He inhaled the sweet citrus scent of her perfume then carefully set her back on her feet, keeping a tight hold on her hand as the others joined them.

“Come, Richard,” Louis said, smiling proudly at his son, “Join us in the library.”

“Actually, I have a little surprise for you,” he said, “if Christina will help me.”

Before she could gather her wits and answer, he pulled her after him down the wide hallway toward the music room. The others returned to the library, except for Guy, who stood alone in the middle of the entryway, watching as Richard and Christina disappeared through the double doors. What were they up to, he wondered, that kept Richard from behaving civilly toward his family and friends?

Richard pushed Christina into the room ahead of him, then closed the doors. He looked at her, taking in the changes of the past fifteen months. She’d grown taller—the top of her head nearly reached his shoulder now—and he couldn’t help but notice the soft swell of her breasts above the lace edged bodice of her dress. He smiled, remembering the thirteen year old who feared she’d never become a woman.

He opened his arms to her and she moved slowly toward him, feeling strangely awkward. The warmth and familiarity of his embrace reassured her, but she felt a peculiar new sensation, as well.

“Oh, Richard,” she whispered, “I’ve missed you so.”

“I know,” he said softly.

The touch of his hand on her cheek sent a strange tingling sensation through her entire body and Christina caught her breath. She knew then that something truly was different, but it wasn’t Richard.

Richard, too, was aware that something between them had changed, and though he felt his own body react to her closeness, he knew it was more than the obvious physical changes. Without thinking, he leaned down very slowly to kiss her. Suddenly, a slight frown crossed his face and, as he hesitated, he sighed. He kissed her on the forehead.

Christina was caught off guard. She’d been ready. Why hadn’t he kissed her?

“Look what I’ve brought you,” he said, making an effort to change the subject as he reluctantly released her, reached into his coat and pulled out a roll of papers. “If we practice, we can be ready by supper.”

Curious, she followed him to the harpsichord. It was music.

Focusing her attention on the page before her, Christina let out a squeal of delight. “
Plaisir d’Amour!
Richard! You found it.” She had been trying to get the music for a year.

Smiling, Richard took it from her and sat down at the instrument. As he began to play, Christina, following along over his shoulder, picked up the melody and started to sing in her sweet clear voice.

After attending Mass in the family chapel, they all returned to the house for the traditional midnight supper, then retired to the music room for the evening’s festivities. The massive yule log had been lit earlier and the room was a haven of warmth.

Grégoire played the cello and Louis the violin, and with Richard at the harpsichord they quickly fell into their long-familiar musical repertoire. They all joined in the Christmas songs and then, finally, Richard and Christina concluded with their hastily prepared but beautifully performed rendition of the new piece.

Grégoire watched Christina as she sang. Though she was not yet sixteen, she no longer seemed a young girl merely playing at being a woman. He could sense in her a new maturity, an inexplicable change that seemed to have suddenly transformed her from his brother’s childhood playmate to a very-soon-to-be-marriageable young lady. He sighed. He also found himself wondering if Richard and Christina would really marry or if Christina would now find herself actively pursued by other young men during Richard’s prolonged absences. Was it possible that Richard and Christina’s relationship would prove only a close friendship and not a lifetime commitment?