Reaction

Summary: Adhemar reacts to Christiana's maneuvering.  Christiana finds an ally.

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer:  Not mine and I do not own them at all.

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On the subject of Christiana, my mother has been unceasing in her objections.  She has followed me about this entire afternoon speaking her thoughts  in such a shrill manner that my head is throbbing.  A hushed voice is not a thing my dear mother can ever lay claim to having and now the entire manor knows that Christiana has objected to my decision.

"The blessing of a priest is important to a young woman.  It helps her to feel that she has been handed over to her man with the full blessing of God on high."

"You did not have such a formal ceremony with father." I cross my arms and point out.  My parents gave their vows before both their families and no priest blessed them at all until well after I was born.  Their blessing was an informal side in mass one day, not a  long special celebration within the mass.

The look she gives me is one I recognize and I brace myself.  Mother has lent her full resources as my mother to Christiana.  She will play upon our mother-son relationship to get what she wants.  Her flare for the dramatic is soon to emerge.  "I hated him for that.  Once, like Christiana, I was a young girl with dreams of a blissful wedding day, beginning with the blessing in the morning.  But no....I was to be disappointed when the priest had the nerve to up and die the day before.  My wedding day dawned bright and clear with a house full of relatives, and your father, that could not be kept waiting."  She places her hands on her hips and frowns.  "I know well that you are not an angel, my son.  But do not be such a devil."

"The documents for the land are exchanged, the dowry received.  Christiana is mine, has been mine since I fetched her.  I could have rightfully bedded her at any time.  I do not need the words of a mere priest --"

The sound of her slap rings the courtyard, her hand then making the sign of the cross, eyes glancing heavenward.  My cheek burns from the force of her hand.  "Forgive him, Lord, for not showing respect for your holy worker."

I will not hit my mother, I repeat over and over in my head, although the provocation to do so is now in the extreme.  I feel my lips compressing into a thin line, my nerves tightening until the breaking point is near.  "Who is Count here, mother?"

"You are."  Finely arched brows raise.  "And I am your mother.  You say you respect my opinion and my opinion is thus --"

I stop her with upraised hands.  "No more of your opinion.  I fear the entire region can hear you already."

"You plan to take this pure girl --"

"Pure?"  I cut her off with a snort.  "She's no virgin.  Her field was ploughed long before I looked at her."  I grasp her right arm in anticipation of a slap and I am caught by her left hand.  Both my cheeks are stinging now, but I will not hit my mother.  How father managed her remains a mystery to me to this day.  "Madame, that is getting old."

"Then wed her tomorrow."

"We stated our intent.  We are wed already."

"Oh for...!"  She throws back her head and gives a noise of frustration.  "What is one night?  Drag her out of her bed at dawn, have Father Persius bless you and have a toss in...in... the stable before morning mass if you must!  You can honor this one request of hers, Etienne."  She opens her mouth to go on, then turns her head to look at Germaine, who has slowly edged up to us as we argue.  "Yes Germaine?  You have a contribution to the discussion?"

He shakes his head, giving her a tiny bow, one hand over his heart.  "No, my Lady.  I would not presume to think my counsel would be needed.  I have come to tell my Lord that a Royal messenger has arrived with this,"  a parchment roll is held up, "for him."

I take the parchment and open it, expecting a letter from Edward with orders for the Free Companies.  Perhaps he has changed his mind about disbanding us and wishes us to join him at his latest battle.  Wouldn't that be lovely?  I could have my way with Christiana this night and none could argue against it.

At the opening sentence however, I realize this is no letter regarding military matters.  No, Edward would not write me of Christiana.  He would not write of knowing her well.  He would not write of a woman at all.  The letter is from Princess Joan, the beautiful Countess of Kent and Edward's own wife.  My exasperation reaches fever pitch as I read, my nerves screaming as they are stretched beyond all endurance.  I am beset by females at every turn, all pleading Christiana's virtue and my wretchedness as a man for not honoring her.

The strangled noise I hear is coming from my own throat.  My head whips up, gaze finding Germaine through the red haze that has sprung into my vision.  He winces but stands firm.  My mother has wisely moved away.  I crush the letter in my hand.

"Etienne!"  Lydia calls to me and I turn to see her making her way across the courtyard.  She stops and looks up, her smile of greeting fading away as she glances between Germaine and myself.

"What?"  I bite out through teeth that I find I cannot unclench.

"Um..."

"Spit it out, girl!"

She blanches, skin paling at alarming speed.  "I must speak to you about Christiana --"

I take a step to her, hand stretching out to grasp her arm and find Germaine in the way.  He does not back down under my glare, though his gaze is respectfully lowered a bit.  I grit my teeth harder and move back from my sister.  It is a struggle to make myself do so, as it is a struggle not to punch Germaine.  He is only doing what I had asked him to do a long time ago and that is to not let anyone, even myself, hurt Lydia or Adelle if he can stop it.  I look around him at her.  "Do not mention a word of her Lydia, or you will find yourself very sorry you did."

She flees and I do not blame her.  I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing.  Surely Princess Joan's letter is just a well-timed coincidence?  Slowly, the anger that holds me loosens its grip and I re-open my eyes.  "Germaine, has Christiana exchanged correspondence with Princess Joan?"

"No, she has not.  Her only letters are to Lady Jocelyn."

"Have any of the scheming women of this household exchanged correspondence with Princess Joan?"

"None, my Lord."

I thrust the letter back at him.  "Where is my Lady right now?"

"In the solar I believe.  Sewing."

I make my way into the house and to the solar.  She must know I am coming to her with all the noise the servants make rushing to be out of my way.  One clumsy girl drops a tray, the contents spilling across my path.  I step over her and the mess without a glance to see which girl it was.  Christiana stands as I come through the doorway, setting the cloth she has been working on aside.  She clasps her hands and waits.

"I can understand my mother aiding you, and even my sister.  Mother has a flair for dramatic and Lydia is just a silly young girl full of unrealistic dreams."  I frown.  "How in blazes did you enlist the aid of Princess Joan, when Germaine assures me you have not written to her?"

She actually seems puzzled, staring at me as though she has not a clue what I am saying.  I wait for her to answer and when she does not, I go on.

"Her letter has the most glowing account of you.  She describes you as 'tactful' and 'most virtuous', and actually commends me for my choice to wed you before God and all.  Before God and all.  Now, you could not have jotted off a letter to her and received a reply this quick after this morning, so I am left wondering on your relationship with her.  Your acquaintance... is it a fond one?"  I cross my arms and think back on the last time I glimpsed Princess Joan and recall Christiana sitting beside her in the galley in London.  Could this girl be royally connected?  If I forge ahead with my plan this night, will she jot off a letter to Joan about it?  Perhaps I should not take the chance of Edward riding in here on his wife's suggestion and looking over my shoulder.  I do not wish to be scrutinized by him any further than I have been already.

She opens her mouth.  "Well...."

I wait, but she does not go on.  Could it be?  Could Princess Joan have taken her under her wing during the time after that final joust, when William and Jocelyn were guests of Edward and Joan?  I know it could be so.  The woman is gracious and much the asset to Edward.  She very well could have befriended Christiana as I began negotiations with Hugh Devereaux.  Is there a royal friendship there?  Is Christiana embarrassed even to admit such?  I study her.  It does look that way.

She does not seem to know what to say, her eyes wide and mouth opening and closing as she tries to find the words to respond.  Her cheeks are flushed and her hands twist together.

Patience is not my strong suit and I shake my head.  "Why did you not mention this fact at an earlier date?  I would have been a bit more...willing to wait for arrangements to be made."  I begin to pace.  Just my luck of late.  I piss off Edward with Thatcher and now am close to pissing him off again.  An angry Prince is not a person I want to have coming here.  "Father Persius can wed us before morning mass.  Mother will arrange a feast and entertainments for the rest of the day.  The witnesses will have to be those already here, but I can send riders to neighbors and let the feast continue for a couple weeks.  Will that assuage your outraged femininity?  Will you accept those vows then?"

She lowers her face to look at the floor, hair falling forward and partially covering her face.  "Yes.  I will accept it then."

I nod.  "Be ready at dawn, for I will not wait one second past cock's crow.  If you are not dressed, I will drag you to our chapel door in your nightgown."  With that last vow, I leave the room.

~~~~~~~~~~

A royal connection?  That Etienne thinks I am a friend to Princess Joan astonishes me.  What was in that letter she sent, and was it indeed from her?  When I was with Jocelyn in that house, I was acknowledged by name only by my friends and the other maids.  I did not speak to the Princess, but rather to her maid-companion Alison.  I cannot claim the connection he thinks I have.  What can I say to right his assumption?  Do I want to right it?

I must wonder who in this house aids me.  I know Patrice has been with him all day, but Lydia?  She is obvious in her dislike for me and would not give me two seconds of aid if my life depended upon it.  However, whatever she has said to him he has taken it as aid of me.  So who, out of all, had the opportunity to know Etienne's mutterings early enough to tell Princess Joan and for her to send a letter?  I sit and pick up the shirt I am embroidering for Etienne, my gift to him, a sample of my talent with a needle that I hope will please him.  The dark blue color of the cloth will emphasize his eyes and compliment his skin tone.  I stick the needle through the cloth and am interrupted by the gentle clearing of a throat.

Germaine stands in the doorway.  "My Lady Christiana."

"Yes?"

He comes forward and holds a rolled parchment out to me.  "This was sent to you.  I will wait for you to write a  response if you wish."

Curious, I unroll it.  I have just received a letter from Jocelyn and do not expect to have another so soon.  It reads,

'Lady Christiana,

Greetings and felicitations to a lovely young woman.  I remember you from your stay with us and was much impressed by your discreet attitude and manners.  It comes to my ears that your husband-to-be is falsely questioning your virtue, a belief that could easily cause strife for your marriage.  Alison has told me what she knows of your future husband on this, so I am familiar with the man somewhat.  I have written to Lady Jocelyn asking for clarification and her account supports Alison's in this matter.  Therefore, in hopes of making peace between you and Etienne Adhemar, I offer you aid in the form of a letter, sent already to him, a congratulations to him for choosing you to take as a wife.  I have been so forward as to imply that you and I struck up a friendship.  I hope it will help you to some degree.

Men can be contrary creatures at times, but we love them anyway, yes?

Phillippa Chaucer bids you greetings from her husband  and I ask that you give a fond greeting to Germaine from my Alison.

Sincere prayers for your happiness,

Joan'

I look up with a disbelieving grin.  Germaine's eyes are twinkling, his face otherwise blank.  "You are a brave man."

"No.  Just one who knows when accusations are untrue.  You are not the sort of woman to give yourself lightly and if my Lord was thinking clearly, he would have already realized it himself.  I am not brave."

"How did you know his plan?"  I cannot believe Germaine has intervened.  I did not think he could do something so potentially inflammatory to his position here.  He could be disciplined severely for his part in helping me.

"You must understand...I am the closest thing to a confidante my Lord has at this manor  next to his grandfather.  I am in a position to know many things."  He glances over his shoulder.  "Is there a reply to be sent, my Lady?"

"Only a few lines giving my thanks.  I shall write it out in a bit."

"Very good."

He turns to go.  "Germaine?"  He stops and half turns back to me.  "Alison sends you fond greetings."  There is a hint of a smile on his lips and he nods before walking from the room. 

I had not expected to find my ally in him.  I take the letter to the fireplace and feed it to the flames.  It would be best if Etienne did not find this particular letter sitting about somewhere.  When it is ashes, I return to my seat and pick up the cloth and needle.  Yes, this color cloth will be marvelous against his skin.