A Choice of Secrets Read online

  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.

  Chapter 2

  The next morning I woke up hungry, as I’d hardly had a chance to eat anything at the banquet. But I knew my family and our guests would sleep in, so there would be no gathering for breakfast.

  Rising, I donned a simple day gown of tan muslin that laced up the front and then brushed out my hair, pulling it back into a tail at the nape of my neck. But I was careful to be quiet for fear of waking Chloe in the next room. She’d been so ill last night that I wanted her to rest.

  Once dressed, I headed for the kitchen, where our cook, Louise, was glad to make me a plate of scrambled eggs with diced tomatoes. And yet somehow, the light of day and the prospect of breakfast did not bring any relief over my father’s anger with me at the banquet.

  I sighed. Nothing would most likely bring relief except finding out what I’d done wrong, and that would have to wait until my family had awakened for the day. Until then, I’d need to find a way to occupy my mind, so after finishing my morning meal, I decided to follow my usual routine. Here at White Deer Lodge, I had three main duties: my herb garden, our henhouse, and the beehives.

  No one had ever assigned me to any of these pursuits. My devotion had simply happened. My mother’s need for certain herbs in her healing practices had led her to teach me about the growth and care of such plants, and I’d grown up with an affection for our hens and bees. Over the years, their care had gradually become my responsibility and no one—including me—ever gave this much thought.

  Erik’s duty was to protect our home, and for all his good humor, he took this duty seriously. He managed our guards. He was skilled with a sword and the best archer I’d ever seen. When he married, his wife would live here and someday Erik would be lord. His wife would be the lady and she would be the one to run the household.

  Father sometimes looked at Erik
and called him a son of White Deer Lodge, of this place and this land.

  Chloe was beautiful and admired. She spent her days entertaining any ladies who came for extended visits, planning tea and embroidery parties. Mother appreciated this, as she had little interest in gossip and tea. But Chloe also paid attention when our mother went over menus with the cook or oversaw our stores for winter. Chloe was training to be the lady of a noble house. Long before the betrothal to Christophe, my parents planned to make a great match for her, and their efforts had not been in vain.

  She would soon be the lady of Whale’s Keep.

  But me?

  I would continue working with my mother to learn the arts of healing and remain here to care for my parents when they grew old. I would be aunt to Erik’s children and live under his protection.

  Father once said to me, “It is Chloe’s destiny to make a great marriage, but you are a daughter of White Deer Lodge. Your life is here.”

  When he said this, I heard truth in his words. I was a daughter of White Deer Lodge.

  So no one cared that I knew nothing of running a household and that I spent my days learning healing arts from my mother or working in my herb garden or tending to my beloved hens and bees.

  This morning, as my family and all our guests slept, I left the kitchens and headed outside, going first to visit the large henhouse that had been built years ago behind the hunting hall. It was a cheerful henhouse, painted white with blue trim, with a fenced yard outside the front door.

  As I approached and passed through the gate of the yard, clucking sounds greeted me from inside.

  “Good morning, my girls,” I said, opening the door and letting them into the yard. I kept them inside at night for fear of foxes and raccoons. One by one, they came out, clucking all the while. Currently, I had thirty-six hens, but my family and our servants required a number of eggs.

  After scattering grain all over the yard, I changed out the water in their shallow basins, using one of our family’s water pumps, and then I went inside the house to gather eggs into a basket. These I took inside to Louise, who thanked me.