Twenty-Seven

“**What** were you doing outside?” he asked as they started to walk back towards the house. “What exactly were you thinking that made Bertrand want to sing to you?”
She smiled. “I was thinking about my options, my Lord,” she replied. “I thought I cannot go to Louis Didier, and there must be some other way. I was planning to ask for work when you get back...” She lowered her face. “I didn’t know yet that you'd paid Louis for me.”
He was thinking. “Do you realize that once word gets out that I’ve paid to release you from your marriage, everyone would expect that you're going to be my mistress?”
She gulped but managed to nod. “I was thinking the same thing.”
He was quiet for a few moments. “I can give you work,” he finally said. “And I can pay you a part of your wage while I take back my investment. But I know I cannot promise not to take you to my bed, ma bichette. The temptation is too much. And besides, I cannot secure your safety from other men if you do not hold the status of my lover.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Considering what just happened in the gazebo, it’s now my only option, my Lord.”
He was smiling ruefully. “You can still choose, ma bichette. You can have work and be paid wages.” His voice was getting lower, more intimate. “But I want you too much. Can you honestly say you don’t want me, either?”
“I cannot avoid becoming your mistress,” she told him. “I cannot go back to my family, either. I cannot make them give the bride token back. The reason why my father arranged for that marriage was the farm needed a principal. If we lose another harvest, my brothers’ families will suffer.”
“I do not intend to accept it even if you try to return it.”
“Everyone knows I’ve spent the night in your bed.”
He sighed. “Yes. I cannot help that. We did spend the night together.”
“And you know I cannot resist you, too. I will not be foolish and try to deny that,” she said softly, almost miserably. If she was going to work here, there was no way she could resist him.
They became very, very quiet. They had stopped walking a while ago. They were just talking now.
“Are you saying you’ve made your choice?” he asked, after a while.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice low but sure.
“We are not pressed for time, ma bichette. I can give you the whole week to change your mind.”
“I don’t think I will change my mind.”
He reached and held her hand. She gave it to him, and he raised it to his lips to kiss. Their eyes were smiling at each other when they turned towards the manor.
They walked like that, like lovers, holding hands, but not talking anymore.
Because there was nothing more to talk about.

**That** night, she learned what the message from the king was to Fabian.
He was summoned to attend a gathering with other feudal lords in the castle of the Duke of Burgundy to discuss important concerns.
Sir Bertrand de Montpessat was to be appointed overseer of the manor while the Baron was gone with his men, to continue duties that could not tarry while the master was away.
She was dining with both of them as they discussed this, though she didn’t know why she was even there.
She could have dined on her own while they discussed their to-dos but she was summoned from her room and both of them welcomed her presence in the dining hall as if it was a normal event.
As she listened quietly, her brain wasn’t as quiet. She was going over the issues and trade they discussed.
There was an opportunity to be helpful to Fabian while he was away and she was left here.
She could assist Sir de Montpessat with the counting books and other work that needed to be counted, figured, and written down.
And as soon as she got an opening, she suggested that perhaps she could help with these matters if the Baron would permit it.
In the silence that followed, she felt she had made a mistake.
But didn’t she tell him herself that she wished to work so she could earn and pay him back?
She might be working until she died, but it would assure her greatly that she was doing something about her predicament.
The Baron was quiet so she looked at him. She was surprised at all to see him frowning. Was he thinking of putting her somewhere else?
“*Ma bichette*, are you not coming with me?” he finally said.
She blinked at him while Sir Bertrand raised a surprised face at him, then turned to look at her.
As she realized why the Baron wanted her with him, she realized also that Bertrand must know why.
She felt her whole face grow hot. As the silence grew longer, she realized that both were waiting for her answer.
“I am, my Lord, if that is your wish,” she finally said.
“It is.”
“Then it is also mine.”
“But it is a good idea about the books, just in happenstance in the future—”
“She will always be with me wherever I need to go and do some domain trade, Bertrand.”
“I do know that. But—”
At the quelling look on his friend’s face, Sir de Montpessat closed his mouth and made a motion of sealing his lips together, and continued to happily eat.
She couldn’t help but smile and caught a tick in the corner of the Baron’s lips as his gentle eyes looked at me.
The two men talked about news from the court in Paris after that, until dinner was over.
And then, when she asked to be excused while coffee was to be brought to the parlor, the Baron asked her to wait for him in the hall.
“You’ve been very quiet. You also looked upset. Don’t you want to go, Adalene?” he asked when they were both there.
“No, no. I am not upset. But...” she took a deep breath. “Did you think I had designs for the knight? Because if that is the reason why you are taking me, I must make it clear to you that I don’t. I just want to let you know that I can be of service in some way, and I can help. I want to. I can try not to be a burden to you. I can learn further, so I find it worth being here under your wing.”
“*Ma bichette...*”
And then he was kissing her.
It was a gentle kiss, right there in the hallway where servants would see them when they came out of the kitchen quarters to bring what was needed in the dining hall, or even Bertrand de Montpessat if he got bored and looked out in the hall for the Baron.
It was a short one, though. He raised his face, his lips were smiling, his eyes hooded.
“Go to bed,” he whispered. “It has been a rough day and I want you to heal. I will not be disturbing you tonight.”