A Lady Under Siege

45

As he did every morning, Thomas on waking and dressing went straightaway to Daphne’s bedchamber. He found her in good health and high spirits, looking out from her window with her maidservant Beth so as to catch a glimpse of the young men in martial training in the courtyard below. The wound in her arm where the surgeon used to bleed her daily had healed so well it no longer required a dressing, and without it there was nothing to indicate she was anything but a vibrant young girl. “Don’t you get any ideas about those boys,” he chided her. “There’s none worthy of you among that rabble. I’m going to find you a proper young nobleman, perhaps the son of a Duke or a Prince, or even a foreign King if you’re lucky.”

“But I want to marry for love, as you did with mother,” Daphne protested.

“Your mother and I married to cement a negotiated union of two families, two bloodlines,” Thomas corrected her. “We found love, after we were married, which is the greatest blessing God can give, and we were very grateful for it.”

“I hope I find love,” Daphne murmured.

“Don’t start looking for it until I’ve presented you to your husband.”

“Make sure he’s handsome, then.”

“Oh for certain he will be. Handsome, rich, strong, brave and true—I would accept nothing less for my one and only daughter. Now, not to change the subject entirely, on a matter related to marriage, I have something to discuss with you.”

With a small gesture he dismissed the maidservant. When they were alone Daphne said, “This must be very serious, or else I’m grown up now. I don’t think you’ve ever cleared the room to speak to me.”

“Yes, well. What I have to say should be kept secret for now. You are growing up, and you’ve reached an age where for certain decisions in life I might seek your council, or approval, or help. I’ve been thinking about Lady Sylvanne—”

“You want to marry her!” Daphne shrieked. Thomas winced and glanced toward the door.

“Shush, you silly girl!”

“Do you or don’t you?” She could barely contain herself.

“I do.”

“Well then go ask her!” Daphne said excitedly.

“It’s not so simple as that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, first of all, I’m not sure exactly how the question is asked, when it’s not arranged between families. And secondly, I don’t want it to come as a shock to her, I want to give her a little time to consider the question before I ask. I only want to ask if I’m certain she’ll say yes.”

“Daddy. You have your pride, is that it?”

“I suppose that’s what it is.”

“I know she’ll say yes.”

“Well I want to be sure. And that’s where you come in. I want you to find out what she thinks of the idea. Sound her out for me.”

“I’ll be like a spy,” Daphne said gaily. “I’ll be very subtle, and clever. I’ll tease the answer from her!”

“You can be direct, if you wish. But don’t try to convince her; let her express her own true wishes.”

“I’ll go to see her right now.”

SHE INVITED SYLVANNE FOR a stroll along the parapet, where far afield they could see peasants harvesting barley with scythes, and stooking the sheaves to dry. Daphne, fairly bursting with excitement, but thinking herself a very fine actress for her outward self-control, asked as casually as she could, “What do you think of love?”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s your definition?”

“Love is something proven over time. True love behaves itself.”

“Is it spontaneous, like a lightning bolt, or something cultivated?”

“Why do you ask these things?”

“My father wishes to marry you,” Daphne blurted out.

“Does he?”

“Yes. What would you say to him?”

“I think he needs to ask me himself.”

“I just know you’ll say yes!” Daphne said excitedly.

“He needs to ask me himself,” Sylvanne repeated.

LATER IN THE AFTERNOON, as the shadows grew long, Thomas made his way to Sylvanne’s chamber. She had dressed herself in a lovely robe of lavender and had her hair pinned up off her shoulders to expose her graceful neck. He took it as a sign, confirming the breathless guarantee Daphne had given him, that he would not be disappointed.

They exchanged the briefest of pleasantries before she said, “I know why you’ve come.”

The neutrality in her voice surprised him. He suddenly felt less confident, more self-conscious, a rare feeling for him.

“Well?” she prompted.

“Yes. Well. I think it best for all concerned, if, what I mean to say is, you’re a fine woman, and beautiful, a prize for any man, and Daphne needs a mother, and I need a wife, and you need a husband—” He winced at the awkwardness and inelegance of his words. It was not coming out as he’d imagined it would. “My dear Lady, it comes down to this—there’s too much sadness in the world, and not enough happiness. I see a way for two disparate souls to combine to make happiness.”

“Are you in love with me?” she asked. He saw her lower lip tremble just a little.

“Yes. I believe I am. I want to be, don’t you see? You’ve displayed such tremendous strength of character in all I’ve put you through. We began as enemies, and I admired you for putting up the good fight. As allies, I feel we could conquer the world. That’s if you’ll have me, of course.”

“And what about this woman, this Meghan that you say dwells within me? Do you love her too?”

“I can’t say for certain.”

“Last night you told me you’d never yet lied to me,” she said. “Does that still hold true?”

“Yes. I can’t say that I truly love her, because that’s something else. A dream.”

“I will marry you, on two conditions,” Sylvanne told him.

“I haven’t even formally asked yet,” he smiled.

“Wait until you hear the conditions, then you’ll know to ask, or not.”

“Continue then. You amaze me.”

“First, you must promise truly that you will never speak the name Meghan to me, or speak to her through me, again.”

He nodded.

“Second, you must do your utmost to find a method to drive her from my mind. I want my mind to myself, and I want you to myself.”

She had delivered these conditions with a brave, stern countenance, but now her face softened into girlish vulnerability. “Is that too much to ask?” she said quietly.

He shook his head. “I will marry you,” he answered, and knew for certain that he truly did want to.

“You haven’t asked me,” she smiled.

“Will you marry me?”

She went to him, cautiously. His arms encircled her trembling body and held her tightly to him a long time, until her ragged breathing calmed. “I had to make promises to win you,” he said. “What will you promise me in return?”

She pulled back to look up into his broad, unguarded face, and said solemnly, “I promise to be a good and faithful wife, and to give you children and love them with you, as you love Daphne. And I promise to love Daphne as my own, as the eldest, as my mother loved me.”