TWO

Adalene turned to her mother as more protests erupted from Louis.

“She will not be a willing wife, Rene! See that?! I told you, I wanted a wife who knows how to please a man! Have you given me a virgin?”

“What?” her mother hissed beside her husband. “What did he mean? Of course, my daughter is a virgin! What did he expect? Someone who worked like a... Rene, tell him we’re not going through with this arrangement. Rene!” her mother asked her husband in the ugliest voice she had ever used on him.

“We need the money for the fields, Mama!” her father protested.

“Oh, you stupid...”

“You cannot back down. I have already handed the bride token,” Louis Didier protested, and turned to the priest and told him to hasten with the ceremony in an attempt at haughtiness that did not sit well with his looks.

She held on to her mother for dear life, so engrossed in the horrible unfolding of her worst nightmare that she did not notice unfamiliar voices amongst the crowd-male baritones that were certainly not those of her relatives.

One voice was most authoritative of them all. Her mother suddenly trembled as she held her, muttering unintelligible words that she understood only in the end because of the sheer power in the title.

“The Baron. The Baron’s here. Ah, la vache! He’s really here!” her mother cried in almost a whisper.

The Baron?

Adalene turned and saw enormous horses gathering on the edge of the crowd, bigger than any horse she had ever seen in the fields, with equally daunting men astride them. They all looked formidable-men and beasts-wearing the cote of arms of the Baron.

She felt fainter than ever. Was she dreaming now? Wouldn’t that be a blessing? “Mama, tell me I’m just dreaming...” she muttered from a dry throat. “Please, tell me all of this is just a dream...!”

“Oh, Adalene, if only I could!” her mother cried out.

As she adjusted her eyes to the height of the man atop a black stallion in front of the procession, she instinctively felt he would be the one to look out for. He was talking in low tones to one of her agitated oncles, the owner of the voice she heard while she cried, the one that carried power, and it surely was emanating from him... from the bridge of his shoulders and the confident way he carried his girth. She couldn’t take her eyes away.

Baron Fabian Deschamps wore a blue surcoat over a gray shirt. She could see his leather boots as they rested on the stirrup, of high quality and so finely crafted. His surcoat was simply cut, but expert hands obviously sewed it. Sewing, embroidery and weaving were activities Adalene most enjoyed with her mother, and on the few occasions she would meet those of the aristocracy when they deigned venture out to visit the village on very few occasions, all she could notice were the expensive clothes and how beautifully they fit their owners. She attributed this more to the seamstress’ craftsmanship than to any other, and she had wished she could gain the same skill one day. It was her greatest dream.

But she only had seconds to notice the Baron’s clothes because the man himself was more magnetic.

He had the widest shoulders and broadest chest, as if he worked hard labor all the time like the men here in the fields. The rich did not look that broad, or what she could remember of them, which was reasonable, because they had many servants up and about doing hard work for them. He did not seem like them. He looked physically fit that hinted he was as physically active and tanned enough on the face that said he spent as much time out in the sun as the farmers.

The Baron looked very manly. When she dared look up at his face, she beheld a very handsome face. No wonder she heard excited murmurs from all the surrounding women. Adalene herself had not beheld any man as beautiful as him.

But it was his eyes, coppery... light that they were almost gold. They were as piercing as a cat’s eyes, but were also strangely... kind. She did not know she was stupidly staring up at him until her mother poked at her ribs and she hastily brought her eyes down.

Staring at the Baron... but she had not seen such a man that a woman could only dream of! Her face felt very hot.

Not distracted by the baron anymore, Adalene became aware of Louis’ wheezy voice complaining to the Baron about how her father had played him for a fool, that he paid a price for a bride that did not appear to be what he was promised, and it even looked like she would not continue with the marriage now that the money was in her pere’s greedy hands! They had conned him. They had made a terrible victim out of him!

She was doomed.

One look at her and the Baron would know she was indeed resisting her marriage. She still had tears on her face. Louis had been holding on to her shoulders, frozen from prying her away from her mother, when the Baron came. And she pulled herself away from him as she cried. She couldn’t stomach his touch. Akkh!

What a sight that must look! She had always known her parents’ marriage was different, that it was her mother who was the authority in the house. But it couldn’t be helped when she was wittier, and her father loved her much because of it. She had wanted a marriage like that, but with a husband equally intelligent. Someone who had her back.

Someone who at least looked groomed and smelled clean.

Someone who did not spew obscenities from his mouth and did not spit on freckles.

He did not need to be grand. He could be simple, but she could respect him. A man who could allow her simple pleasures like letting her read her books.

Louis Didier was clearly not a man like that!