Jacqueline's Dilemma by Emma - Part Nine
Jacqueline arrived at the stable to be confronted with a scene of total chaos. There were young stable hands running around, the senior gardeners huddling in a conference, wondering what to do, but nobody seemed to know exactly what should be done. She felt like shouting at the top of her voice to get some order, but she knew that was not a good idea.
She walked over to Monsieur Martin, who seemed to be taking charge of the gardeners to ask what was happening. "Where is Monsieur Chateaubriand? Why is he not here?"
"He has been recalled to the palace for the next two days, it seems they have an expectant mother about to give birth too."
"Then who has he left in charge here then?"
"Well, me milady."
"And you know how to deliver a foal?"
"No milady. He only asked me to keep an eye on the place and to make sure everything was done properly. He didn't say anything about any pregnant mare. it's plants I know about, not horses." Jacqueline let out an exasperated sigh.
"Well do any of the stable hands know what to do? Surely they must have been taught."
"No milady. Apparently they're all very young and never done it before so they're none the wiser too." Jacqueline began to feel a headache coming on. This was one of those nightmare scenarios that she had been fretting about.
"Well send some people over to the servants quarters and find out if anybody knows what to do."
"Yes milady," and the gardeners disappeared. She made her way to Guinevere's stall through the throng of panicking stable boys.
Inside the stable, Guinevere was calmly chewing on her hay as she usually did, totally oblivious to the fact that she was the cause of the chaos surrounding her. Jacqueline walked over to her and gently stroked her back.
"It won't be long now girl," she quietly whispered into the horse's ear. "I can't begin to imagine what you must feel at this, but I'll bet it's pride. Bringing a new life into the world. It must be a wonderful feeling. I don't know if I'll ever be able to realise exactly what you've done." She rested
her head on Guinevere's side and breathed deeply. She would love to be able to say that she had done something as special as bringing new life into the world, but she knew that there were no guarantees that she would ever be able to make that claim.
She remained standing in that position for what seemed like hours until the commotion around her seemed to stop. Suddenly there were no agitated voices, no panicking gardeners, it was as if a spell had been cast over the Manor which had made everyone go silent. Then a commanding,
noble voice came drifting across the still night air.
"What's going on here?" Jacqueline knew that voice instinctively. Then Antoine walked into the stable. "How is she?" he quietly asked Jacqueline.
"She's fine, I think. I don't know much about this really. Do you know anything about this?" she asked, hopefully. He nodded in response. "So you can do this."
"Yes I can. But we need to get everyone out of here. It isn't good for Guinevere to have all this chaos around her." Jacqueline nodded, stood and dismissed the staff who had accumulated. She then made to leave herself, but she was stopped.
"I will need some help," Antoine said, looking hopefully at her. "If you can spare me some of your time." This last remark was Antoine's attempts at chastising her for ignoring him for the past two days, but Jacqueline did not notice this. She simply nodded in agreement.
"What would you like me to do?" The uneasiness she had begun to feel had now evaporated.
"There isn't much to do at the moment, we just need to be here for when she gives birth, in case anything goes wrong." Jacqueline took this to mean that she should sit down because they could be in for a long wait. She sat on a bale of hay and just watched the peaceful mare as she carried on eating.
She was so engrossed in this that she did not notice Antoine sitting beside her, watching her. He was amazed at how much enthusiasm and fire he could see in her face. On their first meeting she had seemed so placid, so meek. He had not been able to account for his being drawn to her, but looking at her now, he knew what it was. But he had to put all of these thoughts out of his head. To attempt to seduce the sister of the Princess would be more than his life was worth. Even his status as one of the nation's premier Dukes could not protect him. He had grown such a liking for her as a person though, he would be happy with just her conversation.
"The Princess tells me you speak many languages," Antoine said, cringing at his lack of charm.
Jacqueline was pulled from her reverie. "Oh yes. Well, not many, and not well. I fear Danielle has exaggerated my talents enormously."
"Well what do you speak, for I myself have a keen interest in language?"
"I speak English, German, Italian and Portuguese, but my knowledge is patchy. I never had formal lessons as my elder sister did." Antoine's mind was instantly taken back to a night when Marguerite had tried to seduce him by speaking Italian, but she was so dire, he couldn't listen to her without laughing.
"That's interesting. I speak English and Italian too, although I have always preferred English." Jacqueline seemed to brighten up at this.
"Me too. I'm particularly fond of the works of Geoffrey Chaucer, have you read the Canterbury tales?" This conversation continued for another hour. They discussed their favourite works and their mutual love of the legends of King Arthur. With every sentence they found something knew about each other, which just made their like for one another greater until they thought they would burst.
Jacqueline began to feel ashamed that she had avoided him to prevent him from doing something he wanted to do. He was so charming and amiable, she did not think she could refuse him anything, no matter how bad it would make her feel. She could honestly say that he had become one of her best friends.
Antoine was feeling similarly satisfied by the conversation they were having. He could quite honestly say that he had never met anyone like Jacqueline before. She was so clever and sweet and easy to talk to. These qualities sometimes made him forget that she was also very pretty. He was starting to think that if God had perfection in mind when he made any woman, it was surely Jacqueline de Ghent.
"Are you looking forward to the ball on Saturday?" Antoine asked, trying to get the conversation away from subjects that would make her even more endearing. He would love to know everything about her, but he feared that if he did, his heart would be lost and he could not afford to let that happen, not with Jacqueline. She was beyond his reach. His life till now had been a merry go round of beautiful women and battles. He wanted to keep it that way.
"I suppose so. I am a little nervous though. Danielle is making me think that I will be centre of attention."
"Why shouldn't you be? You could surely rival any other lady in the land with your charms. I am only sad that I will not be there to see you dazzle the masses." Jacqueline blushed. Antoine had never been shy about paying her compliments, but now his words seemed to be amplified. The candle light coming from the lantern, the chill in the night air, the intense expectation that filled the atmosphere all served to make the moment charged with a sort of energy Jacqueline had never experienced.
"I think you have too much confidence in my abilities to play to an audience."
"I don't think I do. I don't think I could ever esteem you higher than you deserve. I don't think it would be possible." Jacqueline now began to blush furiously. "I'm sorry if I embarrass you, but I find it hard to conceal such truths."
"I am not embarrassed sir. I'm flattered. You don't know how many years I have waited to hear somebody say something like that to me."
"I can't believe the world has hidden this from you for so long." At this moment Jacqueline had an urge just to reach out and touch his face. To run her fingers over those lips which just seconds earlier had given her the best moments of her life. She raised her hand and began to move it towards him, but just as she was about to come into contact with his warm cheek, she pulled back. Such an encounter would surely cause nothing but heartbreak for her.
Just as this happened, Antoine suddenly stood and moved over to Guinevere. She was scared that he was so repulsed by what she had nearly done, he was going to suddenly stop seeing her in such high esteem. These fears were quickly forgotten though, when he turned to her and simply said "She's ready."
What took place next was magical. For an hour Jacqueline was so close to Antoine she could feel his body move as he breathed. He worked so efficiently, yet with such tenderness with Guinevere that Jacqueline wondered how he could ever be involved in battle. His temperament did
not seem right.
Also Jacqueline had to contend with the overwhelming emotions which had been building up to the moment when the foal was born. Seeing the miracle of birth right before her eyes, made her feel things that went far beyond her imagination. This truly was the most wonderful thing on
Earth.
Finally Guinevere's foal was born and instantly Jacqueline thought it was the most beautiful thing in existence. She stepped back to watch Mother and child as they made those first bonds between each other.
"It's another mare," Antoine whispered in her ear. "Do you know what you shall call her?"
Jacqueline nodded. "I think it shall be Mignonette for I can imagine nothing sweeter than this moment." So great was the emotion that she felt that she boldly stepped up to Antoine and put her arms around him in a friendly embrace. Antoine while shocked, warmly accepted this, and they stood like that for over minute. Then, before Jacqueline knew what was happening, Antoine's lips were on hers and they were sharing a kiss.
At first it was tentative and nervous, but soon it deepened. Antoine gently placed his hand on the back of her head as if to pull her closer to him. Instead of pulling away, as he expected her to, Jacqueline reciprocated his action and seemed to be putting as much feeling into it as he was.
She began to run her fingers through his soft black hair until one hand was resting on his cheek and the other behind his neck. Inside her head she was screaming at herself to stop, telling herself that this could only end in tears, but her heart urged her to hold onto this moment for as long as possible, for it could never be repeated. In the end it was her head which won the battle. She reluctantly, but quickly pulled away, turned on her heel and ran from the stables. Leaving Antoine confused and with those feelings he had wished to avoid in the pit of his stomach.
