Beloved (39 page)

Christina sighed, closing her eyes. Poor Robert. If only he knew how many times she’d thought the same thing. At least Grégré cared for her and would have been gentle with her. And yet, if she’d accepted him that day, she and Richard would never have had their one night together. The memories of that night and all the other times she had been with her beloved Richard were the only things that had kept her alive since they were separated. Until the baby. Now, even that small hope had been taken from her.

“I never could have made Grégré happy,” she said softly. “We both know that. It was always Richard…if only he were still alive…if only I had the comfort of knowing he was happy somewhere…” Her throat constricted and she couldn’t go on.

Robert turned back to face her. Why did she think his brother dead? He’d had a letter from Richard only two days ago. It was impossible that anything could have happened to Richard without his knowledge.

“Christina, Richard…”

She stopped him, remembering the letter he had sent in response to her condolences after Richard’s death and his wish that his brother’s name never be mentioned again. It had seemed so distant, so unlike Robert.

“I’m sorry. We’ve never talked about it…but when Guy brought that man to me…”

“What man?”

“What?” The painful memories had distracted her and it took an effort of will to return her attention to Robert. “Oh…the man from the ship, the one who was there when Richard was wounded.” Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes.

“Christina…”

“Forgive me, please.” She reached out her hand to him and he returned to her side. She was so tired. “It’s just that it was all so senseless. Richard never had to leave Arles. He couldn’t have killed Marco. He was with me that night in the stable…all night.”

My God, did Christina and Richard consummate their love?
While he had never for a moment doubted his brother’s innocence, had there been proof all along?

“My dear, do you realize what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying that Richard was innocent and yet he left. He left his home and his family…and he left me.”

Robert bowed his head and closed his eyes.
How in God’s name had this happened? Has Richard’s exile from his family and from the woman he loves all been for nothing?
He knew Richard and their father had argued before Richard’s departure, and he suspected Richard never mentioned he’d been with Christina that night.
Was that the real reason he’d left her behind: an unwillingness to drag her through the humiliation of being a witness on his behalf? But had the only alternative been to leave her?

Robert shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It was Christina who deserved his attention now.
Will she find comfort in the news that Richard is alive, or will that knowledge cause her even more pain? And might it somehow, in some way, upset the new life my brother seems to have made for himself with Arabella?

“Christina…”

She looked at him expectantly, but the sight of that once beautiful face, now thin and pale beneath the bruises, stopped him. He was determined not to add to her suffering.

“One mustn’t dwell on the past,” he offered lamely.

He saw the disappointment in her eyes in the brief moment before her expression hardened and she withdrew her hand.

“One must also take happiness where one finds it…and mine is there. It’s surely not in the future.” Christina closed her eyes, shutting out Robert and the rest of her very sad and very lonely world.

“Surely you’re not telling me you intend to prevent me seeing my wife?”

Guy’s tone of voice was even, but as he leaned across the desk, Robert found his posture menacing.

“No, of course not,” Robert assured him, gesturing for him to take a seat.

Guy sat down and offered Robert a pleasant smile. “Well?”

“I just wanted to be sure you understand: I’m seriously concerned about Christina.”

“I’m concerned about her, too. As soon as my housekeeper’s letter reached me, I returned from Venice.”

“You were in Venice?” Robert had wondered why he’d heard nothing from Guy since Christina’s arrival nearly a month earlier.

“Of course. This damned war is making it extremely difficult to transport goods by water. I’ve been trying to arrange some alternatives. My housekeeper wrote me immediately about the accident, and naturally she was concerned because Christina left without a word as to where she was going.”

“The accident?”

Guy gave him an exasperated look. “Christina fell down the stairs. According to Agnes she was badly bruised. Surely, you noticed?”

“I noticed,” Robert said, his tone non-committal.

“Didn’t she tell you what happened?”

Robert found Guy’s pale eyes disconcerting, through he couldn’t have said why.

“She didn’t mention where she’d gotten them and I didn’t ask.”

Guy seemed to relax a bit. “Of course I was worried about the baby, but Agnes said she seemed to be all right.” He paused, his eyes studying Robert’s. “She
is
all right?”

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you,” Robert said quietly. “Christina’s lost the baby.”

Guy grabbed the arms of the chair and pulled himself forward. “But Christina…?”

“She’s fine.”

Guy resettled himself in the chair. He stared at the floor for a moment, but when he looked at Robert again his eyes were moist. He reached for his handkerchief and discreetly blew his nose.

“Forgive me. It’s just that we were so excited about a child. It seemed such a miracle after all these years. To tell you the truth, I thought the baby would be good for Christina. She hasn’t been herself lately.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if I’m beginning to imagine

things.” Guy smiled weakly and got up. He went to the window and looked out, wiping his eyes once again before returning his handkerchief to his pocket. “It all started about five years ago, when Richard was hurt. You remember?”

Robert nodded.

“One of the men from the ships came to our house and told Christina that Richard had been wounded and had died. Of course she was terribly upset, so I made some inquiries of my own and finally found out that though he had indeed been wounded, he’d recovered. In fact, he seemed to be living with some woman, there in Bonifacio.”

Guy cast a brief, but penetrating look in Robert’s direction, trying detect any indication that Christina had mentioned Richard’s “death.” Robert was unreadable.

“I tried to tell Christina that Richard was alive, but she refused to believe me. She became hysterical, insisting he was dead. To be quite honest, I decided it was easier to let her believe that. Richard abandoning her the way he did was extremely difficult for her and once she thought him dead, she seemed to be able to forget about her girlhood infatuation and concentrate on our life together. It also relieved her of the burden of knowing the man she’d loved had killed her brother.” Guy realized Robert was staring at him, the warmth suddenly gone from his dark eyes.

“Forgive me, Robert,” Guy said quickly. “I, for one, never believed that Richard could have killed Marco. But the evidence at the time certainly made it look that way and well…let’s just say that even the accusation was hard on Christina.”

Guy came back and sat down again. “For whatever reason, after that Christina went through an understandable period of grief. And then she slowly seemed to recover and take an active part in our marriage. She seemed quite happy, in fact.” Guy paused as though he were finding it difficult to go on.

“But?” Robert prompted.

“But then…about two years ago, she would have periods where she seemed to be completely confused. At first, it was minor things and then months would pass when she was fine. But it began to happen more often and sometimes she would accuse me of terrible things, often telling the housekeeper of things I had supposedly done to her when I wasn’t even in the country. Sometimes this would only last for a few hours and then she would be herself again. At other times, her disorientation would last several days. I’m sorry to say the episodes have become more frequent since her father’s death. Her delusions are becoming much more serious. It was during one of those periods that she came to you in February.”

“Is that why you didn’t come for her then?”

“Yes. I thought perhaps a rest here, away from me and from the house, might give her some sort of peace. And she was much better when she returned.” Guy looked at Robert, almost as if he were afraid to speak. “Did she say anything peculiar then? About me, I mean, or our situation at home?”

“No. In fact she said very little. She seemed to want to be alone and I respected her wishes.”

Guy nodded. “She was excited about the baby. We both were, and I was beginning to believe her pregnancy might be the solution to the problem. Now, this…” Guy shook his head.

Robert didn’t know what to think. Was it possible Christina had fallen? He would certainly rather believe her bruises were the result of an accident than think that Guy could have brutalized her. But if there was an accident—if Guy was telling the truth—it would mean Christina might be having some mental problems. And if she refused to confide in him, how could he know?

“Guy, there are two things I’d like you to consider.”

Guy’s expression was hard to read, but Robert continued.

“First, I would like you to allow Christina to stay with us for another week or so. She’s still quite weak.”

“And?”

“And, I was wondering when you would be traveling again.”

“I plan to return to Venice sometime in September.” Guy frowned. “I’ve been hesitant to make the arrangements because I wanted to wait until the baby arrived. I’m afraid this next trip will be five or six months and I wanted to assure myself that Christina and the baby were safe before I left. Now…” His voice trailed off as though he found the change in circumstances very upsetting.

“Would you consider allowing Christina to stay here at the abbey while you’re out of the country? Surely if her behavior is as irrational as you say, it would be safest for her here, where we can keep an eye on her. She seems comfortable with us. I think it reminds her of the Conservatorio.”

Guy eyed him suspiciously. “Perhaps.” He stood up. “May I please see my wife now?”

“Of course.”

As Guy followed Robert along the hall and up the stairs to the uppermost floor of the chapterhouse, he felt pleased with the outcome of their conversation. Apparently Christina had said nothing about what had happened, and while he sensed Robert’s surprise when he mentioned her “accident,” he felt his explanation had been convincing. He smiled. Robert seemed to believe his stories about Christina’s mental instability, as well. Robert might now find even the simplest recounting of the truth very hard to believe.

His thoughts were interrupted when they reached Christina’s room at the end of the hallway. Robert knocked lightly and waited. There was no answer. He knocked again. When she still didn’t answer, he opened the heavy wooden door.

Christina sat in a chair near the window, her embroidery hoop in her lap, humming quietly to herself. Guy was surprised by how frail she looked in her pale rose dressing gown. It was late afternoon. She should have been dressed.

“Christina?” Robert spoke softly, afraid of startling her.

She looked up, smiled briefly and then returned her attention to her work. Robert looked at Guy, who was right behind him, and motioned for him to wait, then went close enough to Christina to put his hand gently on her shoulder. At his touch, she looked up again and this time she stopped humming, but Guy could see that there was no light of recognition in her eyes.

“You have a visitor, my dear,” Robert said softly. “Guy is here.”

Guy moved quickly, kneeling in front of Christina’s chair and putting his hands over hers, hoping to be able to restrain her if she reacted unfavorably. But he quickly realized it was unnecessary. She shifted her attention to him, but she was still smiling. It was obvious she didn’t recognize him. He touched her cheek gently, hoping Robert noticed the tears in his eyes.

“Oh, Christina, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking with tenderness and concern.

Much to his surprise, Christina lifted her hand to his hair, running her fingers tenderly through the pale strands.

“It’s all right,” she said softly. But she wasn’t looking at him. She was watching his hair as it slipped through her fingers.

Guy took her hand and kissed it, staring at her for a moment to assure himself that she wasn’t pretending such an extraordinary level of distraction. Convinced, he stood up. With a long look at her he turned and left the room. Robert followed.

“How long has she been like this?” Guy asked.

“Since she miscarried, I’m afraid. Some days are better than others. It was a terrible shock for her, both physically and emotionally. I think you can understand why I suggested she stay on a little longer.”

“Of course,” Guy said as he wiped his eyes. “And thank you.” He offered Robert a brief bow. “I’ll return at the end of the week to check on her and, please, let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Christina was quite content. No longer having any reason to cling to the present, she had slowly retreated into the past where there was no one who wanted to harm her. She was waiting for Richard. He would be home soon and then he would take her to a lovely party at Cybelle’s and dance the whole night with her, and her alone. She felt sorry for the other girls because she knew that they were dying to dance with him, too, but she wasn’t willing to share him. He was hers. She was the one he loved and that thought made her very happy. It was terribly kind of Robert to take such good care of her and it was certainly very considerate of Guy to come to visit, though she wondered why he seemed so sad, but it didn’t matter. It was Richard she was waiting for and she had no doubt that he
would
come. None. Meanwhile, she happily hummed her song from the Conservatorio. All the girls had made up their own song, part of a game they played. Repeating the words over and over in her mind as she hummed helped to pass the time while she waited.