A Choice of Secrets Page 16

  Still, it made fighting back easier, as I was assuaged of any possible guilt. Standing straight, I held my head as high as possible. “As my husband, that is your right, my lord.”

  He flinched.

  In this matter, I was beginning to realize that I had little to fear. Given the current state of things between us, I would never give myself to him and he would never force himself on me. He may have changed, but in my heart, I did not believe he had changed to that degree.

  I wasn’t wrong.

  Without another word, he walked away.

  * * * *

  And so, I became the lady of Whale’s Keep.

  After a restless night, during which I wept several times, the next morning I dressed and brushed my hair and walked down the great hall. Even in summer, a fire had been lit, as the wind from the sea could be cold. Several servants bustled about, sweeping and hauling away ashes.

  They curtsied to me politely. “My lady.”

  “Where is Lord Christophe?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.

  “I believe he’s gone to the shore to confer with Captain Fáuvel, my lady,” a middle-aged woman answered.

  “He does that at least once a week,” came a voice from the archway. “It is one of his duties, but he’ll be back for dinner.”

  I knew the voice without needing to look: Mildreth.

  She had her children with her and they both carried several books. In spite of my own self-pity, I could not help but pity them. Jordan looked to be about ten years old. He never spoke or smiled. Amanda was eight, and as cowed and serious as her brother.

  But Mildreth was assessing me.

  “Children,” she said, “begin your studies and I will return directly.” Looking to me again, she said, “Come. I want to show you something.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I could not help my curiosity and followed her. She led the way to the back south corner and then entered a stairwell.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Just come.”

  One floor up, we emerged from the stairwell, but she turned and we entered a turret with curving stairs leading up. I continued following her all the way to the top and then we stepped out into the wind at the top of the tower.

  Walking to the other side, she gazed out through an open space between the crenellations. “Come here and look.”

  As the sea wind swept my long hair about my face, I went over and stood beside her, holding in a gasp. We were directly over the sea. White waves crashed into the rocky shore below, and the ocean stretched out as far as the eye could see.

  She watched me with contempt. “You see? This place is no warm lodge where we host tea parties for useless noblewomen. I don’t know how you managed to turn Christophe’s head, but just like your sister, you will soon regret it.”

  I did not respond.

  She gazed back out over the rough sea. “As far as you’re concerned, this is the far edge of the world and only the strongest survive here.” Leaving my side, she walked back toward the doorway. “Think on that as you contemplate your coming days.”

  Then she was gone, leaving me at the top of the tower.

  But she was wrong about me. I turned my face into the wind and breathed in the sea air. I was not put off by the crashing waves. I found this place wild and cold and beautiful. If she thought to bring me to despair, she was mistaken. Her words had actually helped me to understand my true place here.

  I was now the lady of Whale’s Keep. And it was Mildreth who should worry about her coming days.

  * * * *

  Upon leaving the tower, I made my way straight to the kitchen. During my previous stay here, I’d not visited the kitchen, but it was not hard to locate. Once there, I found the place a beehive of activity with a large, scowling woman giving orders.

  “You girls get those pots clean this time, or I’ll have you dismissed.”

  At the sight of me, she fell silent, taking in my gown.

  “You are the cook?” I asked.

  “Yes, my lady,” she answered cautiously. “I am Amelia.”

  I nodded. “I am Lady Nicole, your new mistress.”

  Though I had no idea if the servants knew their lord had brought home a new wife—a scarce five months after divorcing the previous one—she did not appear surprised, so I assumed she must have heard something.

  “I should like to go over the menus for the coming week,” I added.

  At this, her eyes widened. “The menus? Oh, no, my lady. The lady Mildreth plans all the menus.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “If Lady Mildreth takes issue with any changes I make, you may send her to me.” I paused for effect. “I am the mistress of Whale’s Keep.”

  She nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

  * * * *

  Retribution came swiftly, but I expected it.

  That night at dinner, Christophe appeared in the great hall, wearing a long-sleeved wool shirt and damp boots, as if he’d just returned from shore and had not bothered to change. Thankfully, he’d shaved at some point since the previous night.

  But Mildreth followed on his heels with both children in tow.

  I stood by the fire and braced myself.

  Christophe glanced at me and then pointedly looked away.

  “Brother,” Mildreth began immediately. “We have long decided that I manage the household?”

  “What?” he asked, sounding tired.

  What a fool she was in some ways. Could she not see that he was weary from his day? He’d not even sat down, nor taken a drink of ale, and here she was accosting him like a harping fishwife. Her fear of him from the night before seemed to have vanished. Perhaps she was too indignant to worry about anything else.

  “The household,” she repeated. “I have managed the household and the servants and the menus for the past eight years.”

  “Yes, of course,” he said, taking a seat and reaching for a cup of ale. “And you’ve done a fine job.”

  “Thank you,” she responded quickly. “Then you will you kindly tell your new wife that I am in charge of the menus.”

  With a frown, Christophe shook his head. “What?” he said again.

  “The menus! She has taken over the planning of the menus!”

  “I am lady of this keep,” I said quietly.

  The situation finally appeared to dawn on him and his expression grew cautious.

  Mildreth ignored me. “May I point out that her…predecessor had nothing to do with the running of the household.”

  I felt myself stiffen. No, Chloe had been shut out of management of the household because she lived in constant fear of discovery and she had catered to Mildreth’s every whim. I was not Chloe and I had nothing to lose here.

  Christophe shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I see. You two will need to decide shared duties between yourselves.”

  “There is nothing to decide,” I answered, looking him directly in the eyes. “I am your wife. I am the mistress of this keep.”

  He stared back at me. He was the one who’d forced this situation and perhaps now he was getting a little more than he’d bargained for.

  With a sigh, he said, “Mildreth, in essence, Nicole is right. She is lady here.”

  Mildreth’s mouth dropped half-open. “You’re taking her side?”

  He slammed the cup of ale on the table. “I take no one’s side! I only want to eat dinner in peace. Now sit down.”

  She drew away from him and I had a feeling that before the night of young Gideon’s birth, he’d never spoken to her like this.

  With great purpose, I looked to the nearest servant. “Please have dinner served.”

  Mildreth glared at me in hatred, but she took her chair, as did the children. I was sorry they’d had to witness this scene.

  We ate our meal in silence and I could
not help thinking on my family back at the lodge, how Erik always kept us entertained through dinner, and how we enjoyed our meals in mutual affection for each other.

  Even before the night of Gideon’s birth, I had not felt affection among this family. Christophe barely noticed the children and he and Mildreth had seemed more like business partners than brother and sister. But I was beginning to realize that for better or for worse, this was my home now, and I could choose not to be miserable.

  As the last of the dishes were cleared away, I asked Christophe, “Have you decided where you’ll build my henhouse?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Last summer, you promised to build me a henhouse here, and that you would paint it white with blue trim.”

  At my reference to last summer, his features flattened and he stood up. “That was before.”

  He walked away and Mildreth shot me a look of pure triumph.

  * * * *

  The next day, I went to the keep gates and met a middle-aged guard, whose first name was Jerome, who oversaw the daily guards at the gates. He seemed somewhat daunted to speak with me and although I’d rarely used it in my entire life, I was aware of the effect that a tiny, pretty young woman with long, waving hair might have on a man.

  “Would you please escort me just outside the gates?” I asked.

  “My lady?”

  “Just outside for a few moments, please.”

  “Of course.”

  He was of medium height with peppered brown hair, a heavy bone structure, and he wore his armor well. True to my word, we walked only a few steps outside the courtyard. The village spread out around us.

  But outside the gate, I found a spot of open ground.

  “Can this spot of land be used by his lordship?” I asked.

  Jerome seemed to find the question odd. “The entire island belongs to his lordship.”

  Well, yes, technically that was true, but many people here owned the land upon which their businesses had been constructed.

  “Could I have a henhouse built here?” I asked.

  “I see. Yes, of course.”

  “Good. I’ll need you to arrange some things for me.”

  * * * *

  The following day, construction began. Jerome helped me to hire a carpenter who brought wood and supplies. I worked with the carpenter to explain exactly what I wanted and how I wanted the nests arranged.

  Once the structure was built, a few of the guards from the front gate came out to help with the painting: white with blue trim.

  Then, we started on the fence.

  This all took about a week and during that time, I continued handling the menus and I took over the overseeing of the laundry, but I left all issues with the servants and the cleaning schedule to Mildreth. I was busy with the henhouse and I thought it wise to leave some of the household management to Mildreth. I had made my point to her and it wouldn’t do to leave her with nothing.

  For one, it would be unkind—and I had no wish to be unkind to her—and two, a bored Mildreth could be a dangerous Mildreth. I had no wish for her to be unhappy.

  On the eighth day, one of the women from the village brought me some baby chicks and as I sat with them in the fence yard of the henhouse, a first true feel of happiness sparked inside me. Perhaps I could build a life here.

  The morning only improved when I looked over to see Amanda watching me. The day was windy and some of her hair had escaped its tight bun. At first, I was alarmed.

  “Amanda, does your mother know you’re out of the keep?” I asked.

  But her gaze was on the yellow bit of fluff in my hands.

  “Jerome told me you had baby chicks,” she said. This was the first time I’d heard her speak.

  I smiled. “Come and join me.”

  Entering the fence yard, she sat beside me and I placed a chick in her lap. Stroking its back carefully, she asked about their care and I promised to let her help me feed them. One of the guards was still working on painting the trim of the henhouse, and my feeling of contentment grew until a shadow passed over us.

  Christophe stood there, inside the fence, his expression one of near-disbelief as he gazed from the guard with the paintbrush down to Amanda, the chicks, and me.

  “What is all this?” he demanded.

  “I should think that would be obvious,” I answered. “It is a henhouse. I had it built.”

  “You had it built? How much did it cost?”

  “I’ve no idea. I’m having all the bills sent directly to you.”

  He stared at me. Then, to my astonishment, he crouched down beside Amanda. “You like chicks?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “They are soft and they peep. Nicole says I can help her feed them.”

  Perhaps it was my imagination, but something in his face seemed to alter and for an instant, the hardness faded. Once again, he took in the sight of the new henhouse.

  Then he sighed, as if in resignation. “Nicole, where do you want the herb garden?”

  * * * *

  He helped to choose a spot not far from the henhouse and we began work on the herb garden, first clearing and tilling the area. This took a few days and then he and I began work on a rock border.

  Amanda visited in the mornings to help me with the chicks, and then she went inside to do her lessons. I wondered what Mildreth thought of this, but she did not stop the child from coming. Christophe seemed affected by Amanda’s presence with us, as if he’d never noticed her before, and something about this caused me to think on Jordan.

  Through Christophe and I worked easily together, we had not spoken much since beginning our mutual project of the herb garden. But on the afternoon of the third day, as we worked on the rock border, I asked him, “Christophe, how old were you when you first learned to ride?”

  He was crouched beside me, setting a stone deep into the dirt. “To ride? I don’t know. My earliest memories are of sitting on a horse with my father. Not long after I could walk, he bought me a pony.”

  “And what of using a sword? How old were you when you began learning to use a sword?”

  He tilted his head thoughtfully. “I was six when I started training with a wooden sword, and I was around ten when my father had me switch to a metal short sword. He had me swinging that blade for hours. He said in a battle, it wasn’t skill that would keep me alive, but stamina.”

  I sat down in the dirt, not caring about my dress. “So, you could ride before you can even remember, and you were training with a sword by the age of six?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Well…Jordan is at least ten years old. I’m not sure he’s ever been on a horse, much less held a sword.”

  This turn of the conversation caught Christophe off guard and his expression closed up. “His father will decide when he should learn those skills.”

  “His father isn’t here. You are his uncle, his closest male adult relative. If he’s to learn horsemanship and swordplay, you will need to teach him.”

  “His father works in finance. He may not care if Jordan can use a sword.”

  “Perhaps not, but Jordan will need to survive in a world of men, and he’ll need to know how to ride and defend himself. Don’t you agree?”

  He did not answer, but I could see him thinking.

  * * * *

  Two days later, I was ready to begin planting. Though summer was halfway done, I still had time to get the perennial herbs such as lavender, thyme, and oregano started. As I did not need Christophe’s help with planting, I set out with Amanda that morning.

  She helped me to care for the baby chicks and then she hurried off to do her lessons.

  While setting about planting the lavender, I grew so focused on my work that I lost track of time. When I looked up at the sky, I realized it was past lunchtime. Standing, I stretched my back and he
aded back to the keep.

  But I passed through the gates to an unexpected sight.

  There, in the center of the courtyard, Jordan was up on the back of a horse. He was in a saddle and holding the reins of a bridle in one hand. Christophe had the horse on a lead and it was walking in a circle around him.

  “Good,” Christophe called. “Just feel your weight in the stirrups and don’t pull on his mouth.”

  Mildreth stood to one side, wringing her hands in worry. But she did not interfere. For once, she looked like a concerned, loving mother. Jordan was beaming. He was not remotely afraid and sat on the horse quite well for a first lesson.

  “All right,” Christophe called. “I’m going to break him into a trot. Just move up and down in the saddle like I showed you.”

  He made a clucking sound and the horse began to trot.

  Quietly, I moved up beside Mildreth. Jordan rose slightly and then let himself sit again, over and over, with the rhythms of the horse’s trot. He did not pull on the animal’s mouth and I knew the horse would respond to his easy manner.

  “He’s a natural,” I said.

  Mildreth did not answer, but she stopped wringing her hands.

  The horse trotted a good ten minutes and then Christophe said, “Now, you pull him up yourself, Jordan. Do it softly.”

  Jordan pulled slightly on the reins and the horse slowed to a walk.

  I clapped in applause and called out, “Well done!”

  Christophe turned his head to see me standing there and to my amazement, he smiled.

  * * * *

  That night at dinner, Amanda informed me that some of the baby chicks had begun molting and Jordan chatted about how he wanted to let the horse canter next time.

  “Mama,” he said, “Uncle Christophe says that next week, he’ll start teaching me to use a sword.”

  “Yes, I heard,” Mildreth answered, but she was not disapproving. If anything, she seemed relieved. Perhaps she had come to some of the same conclusions as me.

  Tonight, we almost sounded like a normal family at the dinner table. Perhaps the illusion is what caused me to drop my guard, because I thought on the large supply of oregano I would need to plant tomorrow and while contemplating how long this would take me, I turned to Mildreth as I would have my mother or sister.