A Choice of Secrets. Barb Hendee

A Choice of Secrets - Barb  Hendee


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she gripped my hand.

      * * * *

      I made it through the next few weeks by caring for Chloe, and each day my resolution to protect her only grew. Erik had made the decision to protect both her and our family over Christophe, and now that this decision had been made, I was determined to follow it through.

      The day after the discovery of Julian’s death, my father and Erik placed his body into a wagon, and they rode out with several of our guards toward the Belledini estate. This type of news could not be delivered via proxy. But upon their return, my father explained that while Lord Belledini had been distraught, he’d not been overly surprised and related that Julian had long evaded other gambling debts.

      Erik launched into questioning several of the guards to whom Julian had owed money. Nothing came of this and the mystery went unsolved. My father launched into overseeing a new barracks and stable built down near the beach for the impending arrival of de Fiore soldiers.

      A week after this, Christophe arrived for his wedding.

      We all met him in the courtyard, but to my confusion, only his own guards accompanied him.

      “Your sister will not be attending?” my mother asked him, equally puzzled. “I’ve had the best guest room prepared for you and Chloe for tonight. But I reserved the second-best guest room for Mildreth.”

      I’d never met Lady Mildreth, as she had never visited, but she was all the immediate family Christophe had left. Surely she would come to his wedding.

      “No,” he answered. “She does not leave the island.”

      That might, we had a fine dinner of baked salmon and red potatoes in the gathering hall. Christophe barely spoke to me and the few times he glanced at me, I saw pain in his eyes. Chloe was serene and polite, but she spoke little and ate less.

      Their wedding took place the following day.

      Our gathering hall was decorated with dozens of white and yellow roses. A great feast had been prepared for a celebration after the ceremony. Father had brought in a magistrate all the way from Lascaùx, and a number of noble guests had traveled to see the happy event of this joining of the house of Montagna with the house of de Fiore.

      Christophe wore the blue tunic with the silver thread that I’d made for him. Chloe chose the emerald green silk that she’d worn to the banquet, for the last time she danced with Julian. She was still as slender as a river reed.

      They stood before a magistrate near the hearth of our gathering hall. All the guests stood behind them.

      “Does anyone have any reason why these two should not be joined in marriage?” asked the magistrate.

      My father and Erik both appeared tense.

      I had a knot in my stomach. There were a number of reasons the marriage should not take place, including the fact that Christophe had formally asked my father to replace Chloe with me…that Chloe was carrying another man’s child…and that Erik had murdered the other man.

      Yet the most important reason was that neither member of the couple wanted to share a lifetime with the other.

      Among our family, only my mother smiled. She knew Chloe was not in love with Christophe, but she believed they would come to treasure each other. My mother was possessed of a kind spirit.

      When no one offered an objection to the marriage, the magistrate went on.

      “Do you, Christophe de Fiore, swear to love this woman, to protect her heart, to give her your loyalty, and to care for her all the days of your life?”

      “I swear,” Christophe answered.

      “Do you, Chloe Montagna, swear to love this man, to protect his heart, to give him your loyalty, and to care for him all the days of your life?”

      She hesitated. These were sacred vows, and she was promising to protect his heart and give him her loyalty.

      Standing beside me, my father watched her.

      “I swear,” Chloe said quietly.

      They were married.

      * * * *

      Two days later, Christophe had Chloe’s trunks packed into a wagon.

      Out in our courtyard, the new couple said their good-byes.

      “I’ll have two hundred troops sent as soon as we arrive home,” Christophe told my father. “They are good men, well-trained. Are the new barracks ready?”

      “They will be,” my father answered.

      I hugged Chloe, holding her tight, not knowing when I would see her again.

      “You will be the great lady of Whale’s Keep,” I whispered, “the envy of other women.”

      Pulling away to look at me, she tried to smile. “Yes. I will be that.” But then she embraced me again. “Write to me often.”

      “I will. I swear.”

      Christophe lifted her onto a horse and mounted his own.

      He glanced at me once, without saying good-bye, and I could still see pain in his eyes.

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