Beloved (76 page)

He glanced back to see the table being laid and offered his thanks without looking up again. A few moments later he heard the heavy door close.

“Richard?”

He was startled to hear Christina’s voice. He was on his feet immediately and she was in his arms seconds later.

“What are you doing here? How did you get them to agree to let you come?”

“Maryse obtained permission from the Magistrate. I can stay the night, but Denis will come for me early. Maryse said it’s a wedding gift.” There were tears in her eyes.

He hugged her again. “Well, let’s not let our supper get cold.” He guided her to the table.

“Richard, how can you think of food?”

“I’m thinking of many things, Sweetheart, and two of them are you and our child. You must eat.”

Christina couldn’t bring herself to eat. She leaned against him, tears streaming down her face.

“How have we come to this?” she sobbed. “How can God let this happen?”

“Well, I’m afraid Robert would be the one to answer that question and I’m not sure he can. But it
has
happened, Chrissa, and while it seems I have little to thank God for at the moment, I do thank Him for the fact that I can leave this world knowing you’ll be safe. “

“How can I live without you?”

“You will live for our child. How can our child ever know me but through you?”

“You promised you’d never leave me.”

“And I won’t. Believe me.” He turned her toward him and brushed the tears from her cheeks. He took her chin in his hand, trying to make her believe what he, himself, believed.

“I can still promise you that. You can be sure I’m always with you, no matter where you are or what happens.” He kissed her gently. “Our love goes far beyond this life Chrissa. Never doubt it. I will
not
leave you.” He kissed her again.

Richard was unable to coax her to eat, so he sat with her on the sofa, his arms around her, and encouraged her to drink some of her wine. Christina began to relax.

“There is something I need to tell you.”

She didn’t respond and seemed to be thinking of other things.

“Do you remember when we talked about my housekeeper?”

“Yes. On Corsica. She loved you.”

This surprised Richard. He’d never said that Arabella loved him.

“Yes. But when I left to come back and find you, she was pregnant.”

Christina didn’t say anything.

“She didn’t tell me because she knew I wouldn’t have left her. She wanted me to come back for you because she knew it was you I loved.”

“How did you find out about the baby?”

“I only found out last week. She’d told Robert before Father died, but she didn’t want the news to change my plans to bring you to Corsica. She even married the old caretaker so you would have no reason to question her pregnancy.”

There was a long pause while Christina seemed to consider the information. “She must love you very much.”

Richard kissed the top of her head. “She does. And she’s here, in Arles.”

“Now?”

“She came because she had some sort of premonition. It seems she was right. She’s staying with Maryse. Arabella has no wish to intrude, but Chrissa, if you two eventually meet, I must ask you to be kind to her.”

Christina pushed away from him. “How could I be anything else? She loves you. She will be mother to your child.” Christina was offended by his assumption that she would be unkind to Arabella. Did he think so little of her?

“I’m sorry. I thought this news might be hurtful. Apparently that’s not the case. I apologize.” He couldn’t help but stare at her, wondering how he had so misjudged what her reaction would be.

“Maryse and I have become great friends, Richard. I suspect Arabella and I will also get along well. We all have something in common: You. And if Maryse is any example, you choose rather extraordinary women.”

Richard couldn’t help but laugh. “That I do. I married one, only yesterday!”

Later, he made her comfortable on the bed, hoping she could rest a little and that he could finish his work. She made him promise to wake her in an hour, for she couldn’t bear to miss any of their last hours together. Christina was exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

It was three hours, not one, before he finished. He had done as much as he could. His letters, papers and Robert’s Orphic translations had been placed in a leather portfolio, which he intended to give to Denis. The rest—Robert’s ancient manuscripts, the books, his furniture and household things—would be gathered after it was over.

He went to the bed and hesitated, hating to disturb Christina. She looked so peaceful, how could he bring her back to the pain the next hours were sure to bring?

Richard’s anger slowly faded, replaced by practical considerations as he tried to settle everything that must be settled. He’d reached a point of acceptance, though not one of understanding. He knew he was beaten. All his thoughts were on Christina and her child, Arabella and hers. He prayed, too, for Robert, who would be dealt a terrible blow when he came back to find he’d arrived too late. Richard was deeply concerned about his brother.

Christina sensed his closeness and opened her eyes. He was smiling.

“Baroness,” he said, affecting a deep formal bow.

Christina opened her arms to him and he embraced her.

“Come, lie beside me for awhile. I want to feel you next to me.”

Richard lay down and took her in his arms. He held her a moment and then lifted his hand, palm toward her.

She looked at his hand, at him, and then she smiled and placed her hand flat against his.

“Though art Beloved of me,” she said softly.

“And I of thee,” Richard whispered.

“And so it will be.”

“For Eternity.” They spoke the last words together. The moment seemed to stretch beyond time. Richard kissed her.

“I want you to live at Beauvu, Christina.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “You can spend time in town, too, of course. But there are so many people who depend on Beauvu and I know you and the child will be safe there.”

“I understand.”

“You might see if Maryse and her children would join you. It would be as it was when we were young. Do you remember how happy we were?”

“Yes. Those were wonderful times.”

“You can have that again. Bring your friends, your family from Italy. Maybe some friends from the Conservatorio? Cybelle and Lauro will surely come and bring the children. You and the child needn’t be alone there. And everyone at Beauvu loves you. I know you can be happy there, it’s your home now.”

“And you’ll be there.”

Richard felt a chill. She was thinking of his body lying in the mausoleum. He hugged her more tightly.

“Chrissa. My body may be there, but I will be with you, wherever you are—not in that casket. I promise you that. The soul is free, Chrissa. It goes where it will. It goes to love. That’s how we found each other. It’s why we’ll never be separated.”

Guy and Stefano had a late supper that night. Stefano was still trying to deal with the knowledge that he had probably lost Christina forever. In a few hours Richard would be dead. Guy, on the other hand, was in high spirits. He was drinking too much and beginning to become irritated that Stefano seemed unwilling to join in.

“Tonight is important to me. I expect some enthusiasm on your part. You owe me that much.” There was both a petulance and a warning in his tone. Guy obviously had crafted another scenario and he was depending on Stefano to make it real for him.

Stefano tried to focus on Guy. He wanted to lose himself in whatever little event Guy had planned—anything to take his mind from the haunting realization that he was a coward.

He smiled. “So what do you have in mind?”

“Well, it
is
Richard’s last night on this earth. Why don’t you show me how he’d celebrate it?” Guy could barely keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Ah…” Stefano said, quite familiar with what Guy wanted, and knew he would have to be careful. It was obvious Guy had some very specific things in mind. If Stefano, in the part of Richard, made any missteps, the aftermath could be unpleasant. And Stefano was short on patience at the moment.

“Perhaps we should begin with a bath?” Stefano offered, taking a deep drink of his wine. It might well require more than wine to get him through this night.

“I have anticipated you, my dear. André should have the water waiting for us.”

Guy’s elaborate plans for the evening surprised Stefano. After Guy bathed him, he dressed him in the clothes he had worn as Richard for the barn incident they had so carefully recreated for Christina—black sailor’s breeches and a linen shirt. Though he was often made to play Richard, Stefano had not seen those clothes since that night in Aix. As he pulled on the breeches he could see that Guy was near giddy with anticipation. Stefano continued to drink, hoping to catch up with Guy and lose himself in the experience. Anything would be better than the place he’d found himself in for the last two days.

But when Guy led him to the room he’d created for some of his more violent fantasies, Stefano balked. Guy had turned Christina’s dressing room into a place where he indulged in things that more often involved prostitutes than Stefano. Stefano wasn’t sure this was where he wanted to be with Guy tonight.

“Come Richard, you die in the morning, what’s to fear tonight? And from one who loves you as I do?” Guy pulled open the drawer in the little table beside the door and picked up the key.

“If you love me,” Stefano said in character, as he stroked Guy’s cheek, “why do you want to see me dead?”

Guy laughed as he unlocked the door.

“Guy, do you believe I killed Marco?” Stefano had occasionally wondered if Guy had had feelings for Marco, as well.

“What?”

“I asked if you believe I killed Marco. Is that what this is all about?”

For a moment Guy just looked at him.
Is that what he thinks? That I’m punishing him for killing Marco?
Guy turned away, confused for a moment.

“No, of course not,” he said, speaking more to himself than this version of Richard. “It was an accident, I was drunk. I never meant for it to happen.” He turned back to Stefano.
Or is it Richard?
“I found your dagger and was going to kill
you
with it. But then Christina would have known and—well, it hardly matters now, does it?”

Stefano was surprised.“Then what’s all this about?”

“You just don’t understand, do you?” Guy returned his attention to his plans for the evening.

“How can I know if you don’t tell me?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you. I want to be very sure you understand. I’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to remove you from my life. I want to be very sure you know why.” He led Stefano to the middle of the room and then knelt to tie his legs together. Stefano gave him a sharp look, but realized that while Guy looped the rope tightly around his ankles, he didn’t secure it.

“I’m told it helps speed you on your way if you can’t flail about at the end of the rope. Put your hands behind your back.”

Stefano was worried, but he could feel that the rope around his wrists was also not secured. Perhaps Guy intended he should break free. He might be hoping Richard would escape.

Then Guy placed the noose around his neck.

Guy saw the expression on Stefano’s face. He didn’t want anything to spoil his plans so he whispered into Stefano’s ear.

“Relax! The rope is attached to nothing, you’re in no danger. It’s not what you think. Do this for me.” His lips trailed across Stefano’s cheek and his tongue flicked between Stefano’s lips.

Stefano leaned into the kiss, hoping to distract him, but Guy pulled away, teasing him.

“So now, after all these years—
now
you’re willing to admit you care for me?”

“You know I do,” Stefano said with a smoldering look. Even as he spoke, he was slowly loosening the rope around his wrists. He had no intention of enduring one of Guy’s miscalculations. He would be ready in case things went too far.

“Well, you’ve had a rather strange way of showing it.” Guy gently tightened the noose around Stefano’s neck. Not tight, just snugged it up against his skin. He untied the lacing at Stefano’s throat and pushed the shirt down, exposing one shoulder and half his chest. He fixed his eyes on Stefano’s and pinched his nipple. Hard.

Stefano gave Guy an expression of ecstasy mixed with gratitude, hoping that was what he was looking for.

“Ah, I thought so,” Guy said smiling. He brushed his fingers gently back and forth across the nipple, as if fascinated by the way it stiffened. “You have no idea what you’ve missed. I’d hate for you to go to your grave without understanding what we could have shared.”

“Show me,” Stefano whispered, leaning toward Guy.

But Guy avoided contact. “We’ll see.” Guy paused, studying Stefano’s body. “You know, your father thought he had the best tutor for you. I thought so, too when I was little. But now I think I learned a lot more from Julien than you ever learned—even from your whores. Of course one hears about things that go on aboard ships…” He stared at Stefano for a moment. “No…I don’t suppose you were ever involved in that sort of thing.”

Guy began to walk slowly around Stefano. He touched the flexed muscle in his arm. He stood behind him and placed his hands on his shoulders, then slowly let his fingers trail over the hard muscles in his back. He caressed his buttocks and slipped his hand between Stefano’s legs, but his thighs were tight because his legs were bound. Stefano flexed his muscles, pressing against Guy’s hand.

Guy moved on, and slowly pulled Stefano’s shirt loose. He slipped his hand under the fabric, caressing the hard muscles of his stomach.

“Tell me about Julien,” Stefano said breathlessly, hoping he was playing the part Guy’s wanted.

Guy looked at Stefano gauging his sincerity. “He hurt me. I was little and I couldn’t do anything and he hurt me.”

This was unexpected. Stefano wasn’t sure what reaction Guy was hoping for. “Why didn’t you ever tell me—when we were children?”

“I was afraid. Julien made a lot of threats. He killed my puppy.” Guy seemed to drift off into the memories. Suddenly, he snapped back. He grabbed the noose around Stefano’s neck and twisted it around so the coils of the knot hung in the center of his chest.