Twenty-Two

**The **morning sun's rays permeated the bedchamber when Adalene woke again. The Baron had left very early. She remembered him leaving a kiss on her forehead and whispering something, but she couldn’t remember now what it was. Exhausted sleep still clutched her senses. When she gingerly sat up from bed, there was a new nightgown and a new pair of underpants neatly laid down on the footrest at the bottom of the bed. The handmaidens had come in and they must know what happened between her and the Baron the night before.
They probably had already changed the white sheets stained with her blood in the bedchamber she used last night.
And they would change the sheets here, too, because they were again stained with her blood from the coupling she and Fabian did during the early dawn.
A melancholic mood pervaded her recollection as she remembered that today was last night’s tomorrow, and it would be the very opposite of her yesterday with the Baron.
Today was to resume her real life.
She would be brought back to her true husband, Louis Didier.
Yesterday was Adalene’s wedding day. She was arranged to be married to a vineyard owned by her father. But an altercation between her family and Louis about her bride token, particularly after Louis complained about how she turned out to be so much less than what her father promised her to be, had upset her family.
Louis Didier turned out to be old, and cruel in both words and deeds. Her father must have been drunk when he made the arrangement, thinking Monsignor Didier’s wealth and the estate could compensate for what was obviously lacking. And she was in despair, dreading going with the man.
But the Baron and his men happened to be passing by. He witnessed the vineyard owner forcing his way into a lower bride token, and upon understanding what the commotion was about, invoked jus primae noctis to claim her first night. That was why she was brought from the chapelle to the Baron’s chateau.
She thought at first she was passed down from one stranger’s bed to another, the only difference was the age, physical demeanor, and the standing of the man who’d lifted her to his beast of a horse to carry her home.
Oh, he was a beautiful man. But Adalene was numb. She felt like meat transferred to a much nicer slaughterhouse, but still, she was going to get slaughtered.
That day, as soon as the group reached a cabin in the woods, they dismounted to clean up and eat before resuming. She and the Baron began to talk. And she realized he did not mean to force her. She realized at once that the Baron was a considerate man, and as soon as he started to touch her, that she wasn’t getting a lesson in torture and subjugation under his hands.
He was everything a woman dreamed a lover could be.
Adalene did not even know what to dream about before him. She was a virgin, untouched by any man. She had heard stories from her female cousins, but nothing could have prepared her for the experience the Baron gifted her with the whole day—and the whole night last night.
The woman who had woken up on that bed that morning was wholly different from the one who had woken up in her own bed at dawn yesterday.
The Baron had changed her. From his first kiss to her deflowering, he had been kind, gentle, wonderful—oh, so wonderful. She felt taken care of.
And even loved.
She winced.
Of course, there was no love involved.
The Baron might have been sincere in his willingness to take her to bed. He might have seduced her so the taking would be pleasurable. Why would he take an unwilling woman if he had the talent to get her pliant under his magical hands?
He could have left her there in the chapelle to face her doom. He had no responsibility towards her other than that he managed his manor fairly and made sure his subjects didn’t suffer. He had no responsibility toward her.
And yet, he took her and was kind enough to make sure her experience with him would be something she could cherish her whole life. He gave her all that she needed to feel safe with him. For that, she would forever be grateful.
For that, she would never forget him.
She knew what she had to do. She could not go back to Louis; that was for sure. She would rather kill herself. Her family had their money. They had no obligation to give it back if she met an accident and she died.
This was the only way.
But there was another way.
As Adalene moved to the window, another idea was indeed coming to her.
She would make her father return the bride token to Louis Didier. But she must find a way to replace that. Her family needed the money.
Could it be possible?
Fabian had been so kind. She could ask to work for him so she could earn something to send home.
It did not matter what task would be given to her. She could work very hard. She had met his servants and they did not appear oppressed. In fact, they all seemed happy and contented.
She could live here and serve.
In fact, she felt better doing this option than becoming his mistress. In the light of day, she felt the idea of being his kept woman preposterous. She was surer now that many other women could serve his sexual needs other than a peasant maid.
But as she remembered the passion they shared twice the night, she also believed in the possibility that it would happen again if she stayed here.
Was that really so bad to accept, that she could serve him in bed until he tired of her than that of facing the miserable fate of being Louis Didier’s wife?
Again, she was certain that she would rather die than go through with the marriage. Fabian had appeared to be fair and kind. Surely, he would understand her plight.
What if you get punished for withdrawing?
Louis could file charges just for spite. Adalene had no doubt about the man’s vindictiveness. And what if Fabian–-
No, not Fabian.
The Baron.
She must remember that last night was over. He was the Baron again now. She determinedly did not think of any other implications to it.
What if the Baron had changed his mind?
She gulped but continued to hope. They had exquisite lovemaking. He said it wasn’t over. What had he in mind?
The handmaidens came in with her breakfast.
She asked them shyly about where the Baron was, but she received no sure reply. They said he rode out very early with a few companions, but he told no one where he was going.
She nipped at her lower lip and ate what she could swallow of her delicious breakfast. She had turned her face away when they took the sheets and replaced them with new ones. She let them arrange a bath for her. They were excitedly murmuring between themselves, thrilled that she got deflowered by the Baron. Like this was a happy day.
She was surprised when a new, luxurious gown was brought in. But no one would answer her questions about why she had to dress up again. She could just wear one of her own dresses for the trip to Louis’ estate, or to her parents’ house if she could convince the Baron to do that.
But they just said they were following the Baron’s orders. It was a simpler gown than what she wore last night but certainly much more in quality than anything she owned. Confused, she let them help her to get into it.
The Baron hadn’t yet returned after she was dressed. She waited until it was lunchtime and there was no sign of him so she ate quietly on her own, her stomach queasy with worry that she could barely taste her food.
After lunch, she looked out the windows and saw the garden she had spied on when they arrived at the chateau yesterday.
She needed to be there, to walk and escape from the feeling of being closed in.
Soon, her feet were speeding down the stairs and to fresh air.