Beloved (55 page)

Richard sat down heavily on one of the stone benches and looked up, his eyes beseeching Robert. “It’s barely been three months. Is there a chance the child could be Guy’s?”

Taken aback by the question, Robert stared at his brother.

“Richard, you surprise me. Would it matter?”

“No…no, of course not. I was thinking of Christina.”

“Then you’ll have to ask her. She’s the only one who knows.” Robert began gathering the ingredients intended to dispel Christina’s nausea.

Richard went to her room after Terce and brewed a cup of the fragrant tea. She was still in bed, but when the tea was ready, she got up and joined him at the hearth. He handed her the cup and she sat down in his lap, gazing into the fire.

“Better?” he asked, gently stroking her hair.

She nodded and snuggled down against him. His lips brushed her forehead as his arms tightened around her. They sat for a long time, in silence, content just to be together.

“Robert seems enchanted with the idea of becoming an uncle again,” he said matter-of-factly, as he gently ran his hand over her belly. He found it hard to believe she was pregnant. He thought she’d put on a little weight, but she’d been so thin when she arrived at the abbey that he merely assumed she was regaining her health.

Christina looked at him and then put her head back on his shoulder.

“Do you have a pregnant wife somewhere you’ve neglected to mention?”

Richard felt a brief twinge of guilt as he thought of Arabella. He thanked the Lord that he hadn’t had a child with her in their years together. He knew he never would have been able to leave her if there’d been a child. Then what would have become of Christina?

“No…” he said slowly, “but do I have a pregnant lover?”

Christina, suddenly serious, pulled away from him, got up and went to the window. She opened one of the shutters and looked down at the bare trees beyond the wall.

“How would you feel about that?”

He went to her, standing behind her, pulling her hair back over her shoulders. “I’d be very happy, if she were happy.”

“She’s very happy,” she said, smiling.

He kissed her warmly and held her, silently praying that if the child was Guy’s, it wouldn’t force her away from him again. He took her face in his hands. Now it was his turn to be serious.

“Chrissa…I must know. Is there a chance that the child is Guy’s?”

Hurt, Christina pushed away from him, turning her back on him as she looked out the window again. “Is it really so important?”

“Not unless it changes the way you feel about us. You know I could only love any child of yours, Chrissa, no matter who its father is.”

“The child is yours, Richard.” There were tears in her eyes when she turned back to him. “After I lost the baby, Guy only used me in the manner he used Stefano.”

He pulled her back against him, holding her tightly as he willed away thoughts of what she’d suffered.

It was only two weeks until Christmas, and knowing that Christina was pregnant made Richard even more anxious for them to leave the abbey. If he had his way, they would be safe on Corsica before the new year. But Robert had warned him it wouldn’t be wise for Christina to travel until after the middle of January, providing she experienced no difficulties in the coming weeks. The actual cause of her earlier miscarriage was still unknown, and though both Robert and Richard believed it was due to the beatings Guy had given her, there was no way to be sure. It was best to be cautious.

And so, even though it would be another month until they could leave, Richard found himself faced with the necessity of writing to Arabella. He agonized over it many a night as Christina slept peacefully in his arms. He wished he could see Bella, wished he could be there with her when he told her that he would be bringing Christina back to Corsica. It was so unfair. After so many years, just when she had finally agreed to become his wife, he had been torn from her by Christina’s desperate situation.

Writing that letter to Arabella was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

“Ah, Madame Chabannier, welcome!” Monsieur Rouverault bowed deeply as Maryse entered his exclusive little shop just across from the great arena. She was a good client and he always enjoyed serving her. “How may I help you?”

Maryse took a chair in front of the long mahogany table and pulled a broken string of pearls from her bag.

“I’m afraid I’ve broken these. Could you restring them for me?”

Monsieur Rouverault took them from her and examined them closely. Exceptionally fine pearls, well matched, good color. He recognized the work on the clasp. It was his own. He turned the clasp over and examined the delicate filigree pattern with his glass. Ah! The very strand he had made for the young son of the Baron of Beauvu so many years ago. Interesting.

“They’re very lovely.”

“Thank you. They were a gift from a special friend. I’m very fond of them.”

“Of course, Madame. I will be happy to repair them for you. May I show you anything else today?” Maryse liked his work and he could usually interest her in something.

“Well, a bracelet, perhaps? I was thinking of breaking up the garnet necklace and making it into a necklace for Janine and a bracelet for myself. What do you think?”

“Ah! Just a moment.” He went into the back of the shop and returned with a velvet-lined tray covered with bracelets. “Do any of these designs appeal to you?”

Maryse fingered the various pieces, none eliciting much interest.

“I was thinking of something more delicate, more unusual. I would like my daughter to have the larger stones and I could use the smaller ones for myself.”

“I see.” Monsieur Rouverault thought a moment. “Oh, I’ve just finished a rather unusual piece. Let me show it to you.”

He returned this time with something carefully wrapped in heavy paper. Maryse couldn’t help but notice the name on the paper was that of the venerable Abbot of Montmajour. Monsieur Rouverault opened the box and handed the bracelet to Maryse.

It was beautiful. A circle of blue enameled flowers, each set with a stone.

“These are rubies, of course, but your garnets would be lovely in a similar design.”

Maryse continued to examine the bracelet. Then she saw the inscription.
“To my Beloved Christina—My Heart, My Soul, My Life. Richard.”
It took her a moment to recover.

“Yes. I like this very much. Maybe with pink flowers and the garnets?” The package was addressed to Robert. Richard was his brother. Could there be more than one Christina in this little triangle?

“Yes, pink. But you weren’t thinking of this as a Christmas gift?”

“Oh, no. You must be very busy just now.”

“We are. We are. But if you will allow me to send someone to pick up the necklace, I could have both pieces for you before the end of January.”

“Wonderful.” Maryse rose to leave, but hesitated. “Monsieur
,
I couldn’t help but notice that packet was addressed to the Abbot at Montmajour. I have an appointment with him myself this afternoon. Would you like me to deliver it for you?”

“I would be most grateful, Madame. We are so busy.” He rewrapped the bracelet and handed it to her. “I am in your debt, Madame,” he said, bowing as he opened the door and ushered her out.

On her way to the abbey, Maryse found she couldn’t stop thinking about the inscription on the bracelet. It had to be Christina. The chances of Robert ordering an expensive gift like that for another Richard and another Christina were just too fantastic. But what on earth did it mean? If Robert was still conveying gifts to Christina on his brother’s behalf, he must know that an inscription such as the one on that bracelet was dangerous. Guy would never allow his wife to accept such a present. Well, she would ask Robert.

She was courteously escorted to Robert’s office by one of the young monks and greeted by Dom Louis. She’d never been fond of Robert’s secretary. She thought the man pompous and ill-tempered. Though he’d always gone out of his way to treat her courteously, she found his manner condescending.

“Is that something for my Lord Abbot?” he asked, looking pointedly at the package she held.

“Yes,” she said, handing it to him. “I believe he’s expecting me.”

“Of course,” Dom Louis answered, bowing as he gestured her toward the doors to the inner room..

“Madame, how good to see you!” Robert rose from his desk and came to greet her. “Please, sit down.”

Maryse made a very substantial annual donation to the abbey and he always enjoyed their conversations. He knew of his brother’s relationship with her, but it didn’t color his opinion. She was a fine woman and he had a great deal of respect for her and the life she’d made for herself.

“It seems it’s that time of year again, My Lord. It also seems that each year passes more quickly than the last.” She pulled a letter from her purse that directed her bank to provide a large sum to the abbey, which would be distributed to the poor over the holidays. She handed it to him and he read it over quickly.

“Madame! You are too generous!”

“Some of my investments have done very well this year. I only wish to share my good fortune.” Maryse smiled. She liked Robert. Though she held the clergy, for the most part, in contempt, Robert was certainly an exception. What he had done with the abbey and for the poor of the surrounding area was nothing short of remarkable. She was happy to do what she could to assist him in his work.

For a while they discussed Robert’s plans for the coming year with regards to the various charitable projects he hoped to implement.

Finally, Maryse felt comfortable enough to ask.“My Lord, please forgive me if my question seems indelicate but…”

“Yes?”

“I was at my jeweler’s today—Monsieur Rouverault. We were discussing bracelets…” She hesitated. Robert’s expression gave Maryse no clue as to whether or not she should go on.

“Please, continue.”

“He showed me a bracelet that you had ordered, by way of suggesting a design, you understand. I saw the inscription and I must ask…”

“I see.” Robert chose his words carefully. “I can’t discuss that with you, but please believe me when I say I understand your curiosity.”

“Forgive me, My Lord, but it’s more than curiosity.” Maryse went on to describe her last encounter with Christina at the dressmaker’s and Christina’s pleas for Maryse to help her. She told him how Guy had destroyed their friendship and how she was determined to be of service to Christina in any way she could.

“If it will ease your mind, I can tell you that Christina is well.”

“Then you are aware of the way she has been treated by her husband?”

“Somewhat, yes.”

Maryse could see Robert had no intention of telling her anything. She had expressed the depth of her concern. What more she could do? She stood up to leave.

“I’m sorry if my questions made you uncomfortable,” she said, smiling at him apologetically.

“Not at all.” He walked her to the door.

“I just wanted to say that if there is anything, anything at all I can do for Christina…or for your brother…I owe him a great deal, you know.”

“Thank you, Madame. I shall remember that.”

As she stepped through the doorway she turned back to him. “By the way. That item I asked you about. I delivered it myself. I gave it to your secretary.”

“Oh. Wonderful. Thank you very much.” Robert moved to Dom Louis’s desk where he saw the package.

When Maryse turned to go, she nearly bumped into Richard.

“Excuse me, Brother.” She looked up into his eyes, smiling. It took a moment for her to realize it was him—the beard—but she would never forget those eyes.

Richard was every bit as surprised as she was, but he quickly looked away and nodded respectfully. Robert, astonished by the entire confrontation quickly stepped in to save the moment.

“Madame Chabannier, allow me to present Dom Genelli. He’s visiting us from Italy and is currently under a vow of silence. He’s been doing some wonderful translation work for us, some Greek material. We’re very happy he’s joined us.”

“Dom Genelli.” She saw the warning in Richard’s eyes and did her best to cover her surprise. She turned back to Robert. “Remember, if there’s anything at all I can do.”

“Bless you, Madame. We’re very grateful for your help.”

When she’d gone, Robert took the package from Dom Louis and motioned Richard into his office. The package seemed loosely wrapped, but Robert wasn’t overly concerned. He was still trying to recover from the chance meeting he’d just observed.

“What in the world was Maryse doing here?” Richard asked, his voice soft as he joined Robert at his desk.

“She brings us a donation every year at this time. She’s still very grateful for the help you gave her husband during the grain shortage. It made him a wealthy man, you know. She is very generous with us.”

Richard was still trying to fathom the fact that he had just been face-to-face with his former lover, not to mention the involuntary response to the sight of her beautiful mouth that he’d just experienced. Certainly not very monk-like.

“Am I mistaken or did she recognize you?”

“She did. Do you think we have anything to worry about?”

“No, not at all. You know, she and Christina became friends shortly after Christina married Guy.”

“What?”

“Something Guy arranged.”

“To torment them both, no doubt,” Richard said bitterly.

“It would seem so. When he told Christina about your relationship, she broke it off. But they met again just before Christina came to the abbey. She asked Maryse to help her.”

“And?”

“Maryse couldn’t find her. She thinks Christina is in Venice with Guy.”

“You didn’t tell her otherwise?”

“No, of course not. But she saw the bracelet, Richard. She read the inscription.”

Richard looked at Robert.
How could this have happened?

“I didn’t tell her anything,” Robert went on. “But she said quite clearly that she would do anything she could for either of you.”

How like Maryse.
Richard wished he could thank her, could let her know how much he appreciated her concern, but he knew any contact at this point could be dangerous. He had to be very careful until he and Christina could safely leave Arles.