“Madame Chabannier,” said the Magistrate, offering her a courtly bow. He was obviously pleased.
“Monsieur Icard. It’s so good of you to see me,” Maryse replied.
“I’m at your service, Madame
.
” The old man gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. When she sat down, he took the chair beside her.
“Please, tell me how I may be of service to you?”
“It’s about the Baron, Monsieur.”
Maryse noticed the expression of discomfort that flitted across his face. He recovered quickly.
“The Baron, Madame? I know he’s an old friend, but you must remember that he’s been tried and convicted. Regrettably, there is nothing I can do to change that.”
Maryse reached out to touch his hand, offering him a dazzling smile. “I assure you I understand, but…if I may speak freely?”
“Of course Madame
,
we, too, are old friends, are we not?”
Maryse looked down as if a bit embarrassed, then once again focused her attention on him. “Yes, Monsieur
,
old friends, indeed. And that’s why I felt I could come to you.”
Though he was uncomfortable that the Baron was to be the subject of the discussion, Maryse could see that the Magistrate was thinking of days gone by. He was still entranced.
“I’m hoping you will see fit to answer me honestly, Monsieur
?
”
“Of course, Madame.”
“Considering the Baron’s position, you must expect his family will be able to obtain a pardon from the King. And considering the Abbot’s standing, one from the Pope as well, I should think.”
“Yes, I expect both.
I pray for them
, Madame.”
He emphasized those last words, and Maryse wasn’t exactly sure what he was hoping to convey.
“Then, forgive me, but I fail to understand the haste with which this whole series of events has been undertaken. It seems the Baron’s rights and privileges have been ignored. It seems most irregular and I’m seeking to understand.”
“Yes, privileges, indeed.”
Maryse saw there was some bitterness there and hastened to modify her position.
“I’m sorry, Monsieur, I did not mean to offend. And I confess I cannot imagine that the Baron is guilty of this crime. It would seem that the sister of the victim also believes him innocent, so I find it hard to understand why he even came to trial after so many years. In most cases, the crimes committed by the nobility are swept away. And while we both know that is not just, it seems to be the way of the world. So why has the Baron become the focus of this attention?”
The old man looked at her, and for a brief moment Maryse felt he was going to tell her something. Something important.
“Sadly, Madame
,
the situation is completely beyond my control. You must understand that my instructions in this matter come from my superiors. I am not at liberty to act in the way I might wish to in these circumstances.” He gave her a penetrating look.
“I see. I had hoped that a man in your position…” Maryse looked down, sure he noted her expression of abject disappointment.
“Madame, I am so sorry. Despite what you may think, I have always admired the Baron’s family. His father was very gracious to me. Please believe me when I tell you my hands are tied.”
Maryse’s expression was now one of profound disappointment. Without a word, it said that the man she depended on had failed her. He reacted quickly.
“There is some news I can share with you,” he said, hoping to see her smile again.
“Yes?”
“Alas, it’s not good news. And I tell you this with the hope that you may be able to use the information to prevent this tragedy. The execution date has been moved up. Unless the pardons arrive, the Baron will be hanged in three days.”
“Monsieur!” Maryse was shocked and unable to hide it.
“Madame, I’ve told you this because I’m hoping your prayers will deliver him.” He gave her a meaningful look with the words. “There is still time.” He stood up and came around to take her hand.
“But Monsieur, if the execution moves forward—before the pardons arrive…I would think this would be dangerous for you? The displeasure of the Crown and the Church are not things to be dismissed.”
His expression made it clear he had, indeed, considered this. “As I have said, it is beyond my control. Please believe me.”
Maryse rose, a bit unsteadily. “Another favor? I beg you?”
“What, Madame?”
“May I see him?”
“Of course. I will take you up myself. That will forestall any questions from the guard.”
As he bowed to her, Maryse quickly leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Bless you, Monsieur.”
“A visitor, Baron,” came with the sharp rap on the door.
Richard was surprised. They rarely allowed anyone in in the morning. Perhaps there was news from Robert. But as he stepped back from the door, it was Maryse who stood there and beside her, the old Magistrate. The man bowed deeply to Richard as Maryse entered the room. This was highly unusual and Richard could not believe it was good. He nodded to the Magistrate, but said nothing until the door closed.
Richard stepped closer and embraced her.
“Maryse, what are you doing here?” He looked at the expression on her face and his smile faded.
“Is it Christina?”
“No, no she’s fine.”
“Arabella, Robert? What is it?”
“I don’t know what to say. The Magistrate just told me the execution has been moved up. We only have three days!”
“What?” He released her. “How can that be?”
“I have no idea. I’m fortunate that he shared it with me. He must be hoping I can do something. But what?”
“Has there been any word of Raymond? Or from Robert?” Richard went to the desk and began writing.
“No.” Maryse stood beside him, her hand on his shoulder as he wrote. “I heard from Cybelle this morning. There’s no word of Raymond. And we’ve not heard from Robert, though I’m hoping something will come today.”
“You must get this message to him. There has to be something that can be done to stop this, or at least delay it until the pardons arrive.” He finished writing and folded the paper, not bothering to seal it. “And don’t say anything to Christina yet.” He gave it to her and she turned to go, but he caught her hand.
“Maryse, I haven’t had a chance to thank you—for everything.”
Maryse smiled. “You know how much I owe you.”
“You owe me nothing,” he said, pulling her closer. “But I do know how fortunate I am that you still care for me.”
“
Cha Chai
…” Dhe touched his cheek. “I will care for you always.”
He looked at her for a long time, knowing the value of that gift. “May I ask one more thing?”
“Of course,” Maryse said, feeling the blush even while she knew that was not what he wanted of her.
Richard laughed. “Dear Maryse, those rosy cheeks betray you! And after all these years.” But he grew serious. “Can you promise me that you will somehow do what you can to help Christina and Arabella? If we can’t forestall the execution…”
She put her finger to his lips. “Don’t even say it!” Maryse was horrified.
He kissed her finger but took her hand. “If something happens—I would feel better knowing they have a friend they can depend on.”
“I promise you. I love them both. And you may be surprised to know Christina has feelings for Arabella.”
“What? Have they met?” Richard released her.
“No. It’s just that Christina told me she was glad there had been someone else to love you when she couldn’t.”
Her words broke Richard’s heart.
Stefano had been awake all night, haunted by the proposition Christina had offered him. Now, he sat in the cavernous heart of St. Trophime Cathedral. There were a few others scattered over the grand space, but each seemed lost in solitary contemplation. He was indifferent to the Church, but knew no one was likely to look for him there and he needed time to think. He hadn’t seen Guy since the day before and it was just as well. He was in no mood to deal with him. There were more important things to consider.
Christina had offered a challenge, a way for him to prove his love. And, oh, he did love her. His unexpected reaction to the news that Guy was, indeed, responsible for the loss of their child had broken through some sort of barrier inside him, and the distance he’d maintained from his true feelings had disintegrated. He’d been forced to take a long hard look at himself and he wasn’t pleased with what he saw.
Even in this forced re-evaluation, Stefano still weighed the risk and rewards of Christina’s offer and he wasn’t convinced there
was
a reward on the other side of the sacrifice she was asking of him. She hadn’t promised they would be together, only that she would believe he loved her. And would that be enough to win her back? No matter how he looked at it, no matter how he tried to rationalize a refusal, it came down to one singular thought—one he couldn’t hide from: He was afraid.
For the thousandth time he wished she’d asked him to kill Guy. He had no need for second thoughts about
that
.
Throughout the rest of the day Richard kept the messengers from his household busy. He sent to the lawyers, to St. Trophime, to Beauvu and to Montmajour. He also sent a note to his sister and finally one to Stefano. If he was going to be executed, he must talk to the man. There might be no time later to decide if he should be allowed to have their father’s settlement.
On his way to the warehouse that afternoon Stefano was, once again, stopped and handed a message. This time he did not recognize the writing but the seal of the Baron of Beauvu was unmistakable.
Signore Ferro,
Please meet with me tomorrow at your convenience. With an eye to your future I think we need to be better acquainted. Time is of the essence and I must urge you to take advantage of this opportunity.
R R L M
Baron de Beauvu
That evening Christina joined Richard for supper. Though she didn't yet know about the change in the execution date, he suspected that by tomorrow it would be common knowledge. He hoped they’d have one more evening together when he would be able to see her smile.
After the meal Richard glanced at his watch. Then he looked at her.
“What is it?” He was smiling, she thought, so it couldn’t be bad news.
“Something has happened.”
Christina waited. She could feel her heart begin to pound.
Richard saw the expression on her face change to one of dismay.
“No, Sweetheart, this is good news. Before Robert left, he told me that the annulment came through. You’re a completely free woman.”
Christina stood and threw her arms around his neck. “Is it true? Oh, please say it is!”
“It is.”
Suddenly she released him. “Does Guy know?”
“I assume that both the Church and the City would have notified him immediately.” He touched her cheek. “Chrissa, don’t worry. There is nothing he can do now. You are free of him.”
Christina sat down pondering the magnitude of his words.
Free
.
“There’s something I need to ask you.”
The seriousness of Richard’s tone made her look up. He dropped to his knee in front of her. Though she couldn’t imagine what he might ask, she was afraid to hear the question.
“Chrissa, will you marry me?”
It took a moment for it to register, but when it did, she leaned forward and kissed him, hugging him tightly.
“Yes. Oh, yes!” Suddenly there was a sharp rap at the door, which startled her.
But Richard was still smiling as he stood up. “Good, because I believe that’s the priest.”
The next morning, quite unexpectedly, Guy joined Stefano at the table for breakfast.
“You’re back?” Stefano kept his tone even. As usual, it was hard to tell which way the wind of Guy’s emotions might be blowing.
“I am,” Guy said with a smile. “Did you miss me?” He slapped Stefano on the back and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“You seem in good spirits.”
Guy took an appraising look at Stefano. “You look terrible.”
“I didn’t get much sleep,” Stefano said sourly. He’d been awake all night wondering if he should see Richard or not. It was one thing for Christina to have asked, but as he’d not yet agreed, it was a bit presumptuous for Richard to assume he would comply.
“Ah, hah!” Guy said triumphantly. “You
did
miss me! Well, not to worry, we will be celebrating tonight and I promise you that you will sleep very soundly.” His tone of voice left no doubt that he had specific plans that included Stefano.
“And what is it we’re celebrating?”
“Justice, my dear. The wheels of justice have been greased and everything is running smoothly. Tomorrow morning the Baron of Beauvu will be swinging at the end of a rope.”
Stefano just stared at Guy. No wonder Richard was so anxious to see him!
Later that morning there was a rap on Richard's door. A messenger he didn’t recognize handed him a note from Robert.
Richard,
Grégoire is seriously injured, but he will recover. We leave for Arles in the morning. They were attacked on the road and Raymond was killed. Grégré was beaten and left for dead. Their attackers took the pardon along with most of what they were carrying. There is no explanation, though they seemed to know who Raymond was, calling him “Marquis.”
The good news is that Grégoire tells me the King was deeply offended by the thought of your prosecution and is sending a delegation to investigate. We should expect them to reach Arles by the end of the month.
I have written to Cybelle. Raymond’s body has been recovered and I have sent him home.
I will see you Friday morning.
Do not lose hope brother, the Pope’s pardon should arrive by the end of next week, so all is well.
You are much loved.
Robert
It was obvious Robert hadn’t received Richard’s note. He didn’t yet know that if he arrived on Friday, he would be too late.
Early that evening Richard was working at his desk when the guard banged on the door. He assumed it was his supper and he didn’t get up. There was still a great deal to do before morning. Without Robert there to help and advise him, he was trying to set his affairs in order as best he could.