A Choice of Secrets. Barb Hendee
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