Читать книгу A Choice of Secrets - Barb Hendee - Страница 9

Chapter 1

At the age of seventeen, I had no real understanding of the danger of secrets…of keeping them, of sharing them, of telling the wrong person for the right reasons.

But I was soon to learn the depths of my own ignorance.

One afternoon, in mid-summer, I was in the vast kitchen of my family home, with six other women, rolling dough for both peach and strawberry tarts. One of our housemaids, Jenny, stuck her head in the back door.

“Lady Nicole,” she said to me. “Lord Erik and Lord Christophe have arrived. They’re in the hunting hall.”

This news made me smile. “Does Lady Chloe know? Or my mother and father?”

“Not yet. I’ll go and find them.”

“Thank you.”

Not bothering to even take off my apron or shake the flour from my hair, I hurried out the door and into the open-air center of what was known as White Deer Lodge. All around me, ten large log buildings had been constructed in a circle. Small paths connected each building to the next. Two of the constructions functioned as our family’s residence. Others housed guests or servants or our guards. One was designated for storage. The largest construction was called the gathering hall for communal events. On the outside of this circle, a village thrived, with dwellings, shops, stables, and a smithy.

A stone wall surrounded the village, and heavy forests surrounded three sides of the wall, but not far beyond the west side, the ocean stretched down the coast of the nation of Samourè. This lodge was my home and my father, Gideon Montagna, was lord of these lands.

In that moment, though, I gave little thought to my home or my father, and instead, I continued in my quick pace to the smallest of the log buildings—known as the hunting hall. I’d never cared much for this hall, as it was decorated with spears, longbows, and the heads of animals. But nonetheless, once inside the front door, I looked toward the unlit great hearth with a flood of happiness rising inside me.

My elder brother, Erik, and Lord Christophe de Fiore stood in conversation. Both men wore chain armor and swords. Several servants bustled about, pouring mugs of ale.

As I came through the door, Erik’s face broke into a smile and he called out, “Nicole!”

I ran to him. Well over a head taller, he swept me up in both arms, lifting my feet off the ground. Our father was a tall man with solid bones, straight red-blond hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. Our mother was tiny, like a bird, with light brown eyes and a mass of wavy brown hair. Erik looked like my father. I looked like my mother. We had a sister between us in age, Chloe, who resembled a mix of both our parents.

I let Erik hold me for a while.

Then I struggled. “Put me down.” Once he’d set me back on my feet, I grasped both his hands, inspecting his fingers and wrists. “You are all right, not injured?”

He and Christophe had been on patrol for nearly three weeks.

“No, I’m fine,” Erik answered, “but look at you. What have you been doing? You’re covered in flour.”

“Making tarts, strawberry for you and peach for Christophe.”

With that, I turned to Christophe, grasping his hands in turn for inspection. “And you? You’re not injured? You’re well.”

He did not embrace me, but his eyes moved over my face. “I am well.”

Though both men were tall, Christophe de Fiore was a sharp contrast to my brother. While Erik’s nature overflowed with laughter and affection, Christophe was stoic and kept his thoughts to himself. He wore his dark hair cut short. His eyes were gray and his skin was tan. I’d heard once that he had to shave twice a day to keep his jawline from becoming stubbled. He and Erik were the same age, both having turned twenty-six the previous winter, but I’d known Christophe my whole life. The de Fiore lands bordered ours on the north. They were our closest noble neighbors and good friends to my family.

Turning back to Erik, I said, “We received your message that you’d be back today. Mother and I are planning a buffet banquet tonight, with dancing. While you were away, she made you a new tunic of red silk with gold thread, and I made Christophe a blue one, with silver thread. Do either of you want a bath ordered?”

“I do,” Erik answered. “And something stronger to drink than ale. We rode hard to get home today.”

“For goodness sake,” I said. “Don’t start drinking spirits until after dinner. You know Mother doesn’t approve.”

Flashing a grin, he was about to answer when the door opened again, held by one of our guards, and our sister, Chloe, walked in with the regal grace of a princess. I smiled at her, but she merely nodded in return—which is what I expected.

Chloe was the loveliest young woman I’d ever seen. She’d inherited our father’s height and coloring, but our mother’s small features and slender bone structure. Her long, blond hair hung down her back, and she tended to dress in narrow silk gowns of green or amber.

Erik did not call out to her, and she did not run to him.

Instead, she walked slowly, with her head high, to join us, nodding first to Erik, “Brother,” and to Christophe, “My lord.”

“My lady,” Christophe answered, but his voice held no warmth and I wanted to sigh.

Though he and Chloe had been betrothed for several months, they hardly behaved like two people on the verge of marriage.

When she looked down at me, Chloe’s features shifted to an expression of affection. “Look at the state of you. Have you been baking? You realize we do employ perfectly capable kitchen maids? You’ll need to wash your hair before dressing for the banquet.”

I drew in a quick breath and gripped her hand. “The banquet? Has Father—?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’ve spoken to him, and he’s agreed to let you attend. I’ll help you choose a gown.”

At this news, Christophe’s eyes moved over my face again, and a flicker of relief crossed his features. Was he glad for me? How kind of him.

“You’re certain?” Erik asked in surprise. “Father agreed?”

“Yes,” Chloe answered. “But it did take a little convincing. The way he treats her is absurd. Nicole is hardly a child.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Erik said.

Both happiness and nervousness rose up in my chest. This would be my first buffet banquet with dancing. As I was the youngest of my father’s children, and I looked like a copy of my mother, my father had not bothered to hide his favor of me. Unfortunately, this favor had also caused him to perpetually view me as a little girl—and to treat me as one. I was included at formal sit-down dinners, but he’d never allowed me to attend more potentially raucous events.

Looking up at Chloe in gratitude, I said, “Thank you. But I do need to finish the tarts. You know Cook always makes too many of the strawberry this time of year, and Christophe prefers peach. Afterwards, I’ll come to our rooms to dress. Please see what you can find for me to wear.”

She and I had slept in adjoining rooms all our lives, and as a result, we had little sense of privacy when it came to each other.

After nodding regally to both Erik and Christophe, she said, “I am glad to see you both returned to us safely. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go and choose my own gown for this evening.”

With that, she turned and walked toward the door. The same guard who had opened it for her still stood inside. Once she passed through, he followed after her and closed it from the outside. Chloe rarely had to touch a door.

When Erik glanced at Christophe, I couldn’t help noting a flash of concern…as Christophe seemed to hardly even notice Chloe had left the room. However would those two navigate a marriage?

“How long will you be staying with us?” I asked Christophe.

“Only until tomorrow.” His voice was low and quiet. “Then I need to get home to Whale’s Keep. My sister, Lady Mildreth, has been managing in my absence.”

“All right, then.” I headed for the door. “I’ll see you this evening. Mother has you in your usual guest room, and you’ll find the new tunic on your bed. I’ll order baths for you both.”

“You’d best order one for yourself,” Erik called after me. “And don’t forget to wash all that flour from your hair.” He was always teasing me, but I liked it.

Stepping out into the warm afternoon air, I looked around at the great circle of log buildings. Along with connecting paths, the grounds between each construction sported a mix of rose, herb, and kitchen gardens. Though I could not see the ocean, over the west side of the wall, I could hear waves crashing into the shore. We were safe here, protected. This place was a haven, and I wondered how Chloe could bear the thought of leaving it and going to live with Christophe. Was this the reason for her coolness to him? Perhaps I could ask her? In this regard, I wasn’t sure. Even between sisters as close as us, some things were private.

But her betrothal was of great importance to our family, and she knew it.

Our property spread inland and down the coast for miles, and the people in the villages under my father’s protection, who lived outside our wall, had come under a new threat over the past few years—one of which none of us could have foreseen.

The nation of Samourè was bordered on the south by the kingdom of Partheney, named for its capital city. The western coastline of the continent ran all along both nations. Under the rule of Queen Ashton de Blaise, Partheney enjoyed a strong border patrol. Few who were unwelcome would dare attempt a landing on their coastline.

My father’s lands, Montagna lands, were at the southwestern point of Samourè, reaching the border between nations. King Amandine, who ruled Samourè, lived in the northwest, but our standing army was small and soldiers could not be spared to patrol the Montagna coastline.

Until recently, this had never been an issue. My grandfather, followed by my father, had no argument with the few smugglers who landed now and then, so long as they went about their business and troubled none of our own people.

For the most part, our shores were safe.

My family retained only enough trained guards to protect White Deer Lodge and to accompany my father or Erik when they went to check on harvests or collect taxes. We had never needed more. My father invested our money back into our lands, into improving our crops, the upkeep of villages, and the replanting of trees for future timber.

Christophe’s family, the de Fiores, lived on their estate on an island called Whale’s Keep, just off the coast. But their lands spread inland a good distance and along the coast to the north. Partly because of the geographical separation of the estate and partly because of his nature, Christophe’s father had long invested in a good-sized, well-trained retinue of guards…soldiers. This was where a good deal of the family money went—for the payment, housing, and training of a standing private military. Christophe’s mother had long been dead, and his father had died three years ago, leaving him in charge of the family.

Then, two years ago, the first wave of savage raiders landed upon de Fiore shores. We still had no idea from where they came, but they were large men, dressed in furs and plate armor. They would land in groups of about forty men and then raid villages; burning, looting, killing, and taking people as slaves. After one or two raids, they would return to their boats and leave as suddenly as they’d arrived.

Christophe responded swiftly and with force, ordering his men along the de Fiore coastline, where they were able to kill or send back any of these raiders before they ever reached the tree line.

All too soon, the raiders began landing on the unprotected Montagna shoreline, burning our villages, killing and taking our people. My family was safe inside our stone wall, but our people were suffering. We did not employ anything like the de Fiores’ well-trained private military, and to create one of our own would take years and far more wealth than was available. My father had good connections at court and he was respected among the nobles, so he appealed to the king, but not enough soldiers could be spared to indefinitely guard our coastline.

Christophe sent help during the worst of the raids, but only after the fact, to try to chase down escaping raiders and recover any stolen people. Even so, due to distance, the soldiers rarely made it in time, and sending these men was clearly a favor on his part. My father did not care to be indebted, even to Christophe.

Over the previous spring, a solution occurred to my father, and he approached Christophe with a proposal to join our families in marriage. My father offered a thousand acres of prime timberland as dowry for Chloe, along with a yearly stipend. In exchange, right after the wedding, Christophe would send two hundred men to permanently reside near White Deer Lodge. These soldiers would patrol our shoreline and expel any raiders attempting to land.

The de Fiores needed good timber.

Even more, Father knew that Christophe cared a great deal for bloodlines, and he would accept a bride only from an ancient noble family. Ours was such a bloodline. The deal was struck.

Over the past weeks, Erik and Christophe had been riding from one Montagna village to the next, with a de Fiore contingent, assessing any damage, hunting for raiders, and promising our people they would soon be safe.

Soon, Chloe and Christophe would be wed, and our lands would be protected. This seemed a perfect solution but for the fact that the impending bride and groom barely seemed to notice the other’s existence.

I hoped that perhaps at tonight’s banquet, they might have the chance to dance with each other. This thought filled me with both hope and excitement…as I would be there to witness such an event.

A part of me still couldn’t believe Father had agreed to let me attend. What gown would Chloe choose for me? She knew best in such matters. But first, I hurried back to the kitchen, as I needed to finish making Christophe’s peach tarts.

He had never cared for strawberries.

* * * *

That night, the banquet started off well enough.

I was somewhat late in arriving, as it took longer than expected for my hair to dry, and I sent Chloe on ahead, not wishing to make her wait. There was nothing she loved more than a party with dancing. She loved to be admired and who could blame her? She was so graceful and beautiful.

Still, as I hurried down the path toward the gathering hall, I felt rather pretty tonight myself. Chloe had gifted me with a gown of lavender muslin. All her talk of “choosing a gown” had been a ruse. This gown had once been hers and she’d had it hemmed as a surprise. The color brought out my light brown eyes and set off my darker brown hair. Jenny, our maid, had used her hands to scrunch my hair as it dried, so that it fell all around my shoulders in even more waves than usual. I wore silver earrings and a small diamond pendant.

Tonight, my father would see that I was a woman now—and not a child. I knew for a fact that some noblewomen my age were married and running their own households—not that I had any desire to marry. I loved my home and my family and never wished to leave White Deer Lodge. But I did wish to be seen as a grown woman.

Though darkness had fallen, I knew these paths by heart.

Finally, I arrived at the door of the gathering hall and slipped inside…where the sights and sounds almost overwhelmed me. A loud mix of voices and music filled the crowded hall. Guests had been arriving all afternoon, mainly merchants and their wives who lived close enough to make the journey. But there were also a few military officers in Christophe’s employ and a few nobles who were currently in residence at the lodge.

The walls of the hall had been strung with garlands, and the sconces above them glowed with light provided by fat candles. The tables were laden with food, and musicians played a lively tune.

My eyes scanned the room until I spotted my parents, and my mother smiled while holding out one hand toward me. I hurried over to her. She wore a red velvet gown that accented her small waist. In her late forties, her face was nearly unlined and her hair still a shade of rich brown.

“How lovely you are,” she said to me.

My father stood beside her, staring down at me with a frown. “Where did you get that dress?”

“Chloe had it hemmed for me. Do you like it?” I asked, worried. The square neckline was a bit low, and I hoped he would not tell me to go and change. I had nothing so pretty in my own closet.

My mother glanced up at him with a challenging gaze.

“Of course I like it,” he answered quickly. “It’s fine…for tonight.”

With that, I turned my attention to the festivities. Erik was out dancing with a merchant’s daughter. I hoped to see Chloe dancing with Christophe, but she was not. When I saw her partner, mild distaste rose in my mouth.

She was dancing with Julian Belledini, a man to whom she paid far too much attention in my opinion. Julian was handsome and he knew it, with dark blue eyes and blond hair that curled down around his ears to the top of his collar. He was both slender and well built at the same time, and I had to admit he cut a dashing figure in a black, sleeveless tunic. But he was also the third son of a minor baron. He had no real prospects and yet never failed to mention the old bloodlines of his family. Not knowing what else to do with him, his own father had sent him to mine.

Julian had lived with us since the spring. The idea was that my father and Erik would teach Julian both archery and skill with a sword, and then my father—who had solid connections—would help him arrange for a commission in the royal military as an officer. Julian’s father had no qualms about paying for the commission. He simply required assistance with Julian’s training and introductions.

My father was always glad to help someone to help himself.

I had my doubts, however. From what I could see, Julian had little interest in either archery or the military. He preferred playing cards with our house guards and drinking wine from our stores and talking to my sister.

I didn’t care for him and as a result, he didn’t care for me. Julian was a man who liked to be admired.

And now, at Erik and Christophe’s welcome party, he was once again monopolizing Chloe’s time…and she was letting him. Wearing a gown of emerald green silk, she clung to his shoulder and hand, allowing him to spin her around the dance floor as if there was no place she would rather be.

No wonder my father was frowning.

“Nicole,” someone said.

Turning, I saw Christophe coming toward us, looking fine in his new blue tunic. The silver thread had been a good choice, if I did say so myself. His eyes were on me as he crossed the room, taking in my lavender dress and the waves in my hair.

After greeting my parents politely, he said to my mother, “I thank you for this fine banquet.”

As the evening meal was buffet, a number of people were already dished up and eating while watching the dancing. The food did look enticing, and I hoped to sample the roasted pheasant with plum sauce soon.

“Your safe return was a good excuse for a gathering,” she answered.

“I’ve heard you encountered no raiders,” my father said. “But were you and Erik able to reassure most of the villages?”

“Yes,” Christophe answered. “They understand my soldiers will soon be patrolling your coast.”

This seemed to please my father, and his tight body relaxed slightly.

But then Christophe held one hand out to me. “Would you dance?”

I knew a number of dances—as Chloe and Erik had taught me—but I’d never danced in public before, and although I’d been allowed to attend this event, I wasn’t sure how far Father was willing to let me participate. Still, he could have little objection to me dancing with Christophe, who would soon be part of our family—and my brother-in-law.

Looking up at my father, I asked, “May I go and dance with Christophe?”

Father’s expression tightened again. He glanced over at Chloe dancing with Julian Belledini. But he answered, “Yes. Of course.”

Though he hardly sounded enthusiastic, I wasn’t about to waste this chance and grasped Christophe’s hand.

Without hesitation, he led me onto the dance floor.

“Do you often dance?” I asked him.

“No. Almost never.”

A new song had begun. This dance was somewhat challenging, called the Evalada. The tempo was quick and the turns were fast, and after every ten steps, the man gripped the woman by the waist and lifted her above his head.

Still, as Christophe and I quick-stepped with the other dancers, I was not daunted. Erik had taught me the Evalada, and in his typical playful moods, he’d often lifted me higher than necessary. Because of this, I was accustomed to the strength in a man’s arms and hands, so now I simply clung to Christophe and let him lead. As we rounded a turn, he gripped my waist and lifted me above his head as if I weighed nothing. With my hands on his shoulders, I laughed. I trusted him completely and knew he’d never drop me.

Once my feet touched the floor, we were off again. He was a skilled dancer and I needed to do little more than follow his steps as fast as I could. It was exhilarating. On the tenth step, he lifted me again, and I could see that he was having fun. It was good to see him smile. Christophe seldom smiled.

When the last note ended, we both laughed and clapped.

Chloe had been dancing with Julian and although she was smiling, she looked a bit pale and breathless to me. I wondered why. Normally, Chloe could dance all night. But my worries for her vanished when I saw Erik staring at Christophe and me. His usual jovial expression was gone, and as he approached us through the crowd, he seemed almost displeased.

“Did you see me?” I asked him. “I didn’t miss a step.”

He tried to smile. “Yes, you did well. But perhaps Christophe might dance with Chloe next?”

“Of course,” I answered and then turned to Christophe. “You should ask her before the next song begins.”

“Ask me what?” Chloe said, suddenly upon us.

“To dance,” I answered.

“Perhaps later,” Christophe said. “I was hoping to continue dancing with Nicole for a while.”

“Please do,” Chloe answered. “Julian is asking the musician to play the ‘Ruodlieb’ and I’m promised to him for the song.” She still seemed pale to me, and I wondered if she’d eaten yet.

Erik frowned, but Christophe ignored him and took my hand again. I could see that Erik thought it might be best for Christophe to dance with Chloe, but if neither of them was inclined to dance with the other, what could be done? And in truth, at least Christophe wasn’t dancing with some flirty merchant’s daughter.

He was only dancing with me. What harm could there be?

Chloe joined Julian as the first note struck.

This dance was not quite so fast and more couples joined us on the floor. Once again, I just held Christophe’s strong hand and let him sweep me around. It was great fun, and I loved the flowing movements and the joy of dancing in unison with others all around us. One song soon blended into the next…and the next.

After the fifth song, he asked me, “Are you thirsty?”

I nodded. “Yes, and perhaps hungry too. Have you eaten?”

“Not much.”

He offered me his arm, and I took it with both hands so he could lead me through the crowded room for a table laden with food. With his free hand, he reached down and pinched off a bite of roasted pheasant.

“Here,” he said, feeding it to me.

He took a bite for himself and then fed me part of a peach tart. After this, he poured a goblet of wine.

When he held it to my mouth, though, I hesitated. Normally, I did not drink wine and I wasn’t sure what Father would think, so I glanced over to where my parents had been standing.

My father stood staring at us with eyes as hard as ice, and I realized among the crowd near the table, I was still clinging to Christophe’s arm. With heat rising to my face, I felt that somehow I’d done something wrong. My father strode toward us with the same hard expression, and I let go of Christophe’s arm.

“Nicole,” my father said as soon as he was close enough to be heard. “It’s getting late. It’s time you were in bed.”

Christophe had not seen him coming and turned quickly, his features tensing with anger. “It’s early yet,” he said carefully.

My father ignored him. “To bed, Nicole. Now.”

“Yes, Father.”

Christophe’s jaw muscle twitched, but he said nothing.

Feeling like a chastised child, I hurried for the door.

* * * *

Long after our maid, Jenny, had unlaced my gown, seen me into bed, and then left the room, I lay awake, covered by a quilt, wondering what I had done to anger my father so.

What harm could there be in my dancing with Christophe and eating a bit of pheasant and peach tart? And yet, Father had treated me as if I’d behaved badly, as if I’d behaved disgracefully. Chloe might love a party with dancing, but I loved my family and I’d never attend a dance again if such an event would cause Father to see me as a disgrace.

Unbidden, two tears slipped down my cheeks. Perhaps tomorrow, I might speak to my mother and see if she could enlighten me about my father’s censure. This thought gave me some comfort and I finally closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep.

I don’t remember any dreams, but at what seemed much later, I was awakened by a strange sound, like that of someone gagging.

Sitting up, I realized the sound was coming from the adjoining room. The gagging was accompanied by the sound of choking, and I jumped from my bed, running across my room and jerking open the door that separated my room from Chloe’s.

There, my sister was on her knees, still in her emerald silk gown, retching violently into a basin on the floor.

“Chloe!”

Running to her, I knelt and held her hair back. She was nearly weeping from distress, and she couldn’t seem to stop retching even after there was no food left to come up.

Finally, her body began to calm.

“Oh, Chloe,” I said. “You are so ill. I’ll run and get Mother.”

Our mother was a healer, a skilled practitioner in herbal arts.

But Chloe grabbed my arm, clutching me fiercely. “No!”

Taken aback, I stared into her pale face.

“Please don’t,” she said more calmly. “I had too much wine to drink at the banquet, and if Father finds out, he’ll be displeased.”

She’d drunk too much wine? Her concern made sense to me, but I was still worried for her health. “Are you sure? Mother wouldn’t say anything to Father, and she might be able to give you something to settle your stomach.”

Chloe still gripped my arm, but less tightly now. “I am sure. Just get me out of this gown and help me to clean up the mess. I’ll be fine.”

Nodding, I moved around to the back of her and unlaced her gown. As she slipped out of the gown, I carried the basin out into the hallway, peering right and left. No one was up, so I took the basin outside and disposed of its contents at the base of a tree.

Hurrying back to Chloe’s room, I found her in bed, still pale, but looking otherwise recovered.

“Nicole,” she said, “will you swear to keep this between us?”

“Yes. I swear.”

Of course I would keep her secret. We were sisters, and sisters kept each other’s secrets.