Chapter Eleven
Barton leaned against the wall of the alley between the baker's shop and the blacksmith, a lit cigar in his hand. He dropped the cigar on the pavement and ground it under his foot. The lilting laugh of Queen Christine grew closer to his dark corner. As she walked in front of the alley, Barton grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the shadows.
"Unhand me sir!" the queen insisted. "Or I'll scream at the top of my lungs." She focused on the man. "Who are you?"
Barton laughed. "My name is Jared Robert Barton." He slapped her across the face. "I want you to deliver a message to your husband. Tell him that if my Giselle is not freed soon, I will find you, and I will kill you." He slapped her again then released her.
She raced out of the alley, probably to summon her guards.
Barton slipped back through the alley and climbed over the fence at the end. No doubt the king would get his message. With the two marks he had placed on the queen's face and the bruise on her wrist.
Christine stumbled into the castle, her face stinging with the pain of being slapped, hard. She took a step towards the stairs, but her legs gave out and she crumpled to the floor. Two maids rushed to her side and turned her over. "Get the king!" One of them told the other.
Christine lay there, going in and out of consciousness. Soon, Erik's voice and racing footsteps approached. "What happened?" He demanded of the maids.
"We don't know My King." The maid who had stayed with Christine spoke up. "She stumbled in and then collapsed."
Erik noticed the twin bruises on his wife's face. She had been slapped, twice. He slid his arms around Christine, lifted her gently, and carried her to the stairs, shouting to the maids to go find his mother.
He laid his wife on the bed, kneeling beside the bed and taking her hand. He laid a gentle kiss on her face over the bruises. "Christine." He pleaded. "Sweetheart, wake up." He checked her for any other injuries, only finding the bruises on her face and one bruise on her wrist.
Erik held his wife's hand until his mother and Mabel knocked on the open door. "Erik. What happened?"
"I don't know. No one knows." He stared at his beloved, silently willing her to wake up.
She stirred to consciousness. "Erik." She finally opened her eyes and he sighed in relief. "There was a man."
"What man?" Alice asked.
"His name is Jared Robert Barton. He told me to tell you that if we don't release Giselle soon, he will hunt me down and kill me." Tears formed in her eyes. "Erik. I think we should listen to him."
"What? No." Erik protested. "We can't let Giselle free. She's being held for crimes worthy of the gallows." He stroked Christine's head. "We'll stay in the cabin until this man is caught. I love you and our child so much."
Christine watched her husband touch her stomach where a tiny bump rested. "Erik. Are you sure we can stay in the cabin for that long?"
Alice spoke up. "Christine. Cedric and I will not rest until this man is caught and hung." She touched her daughter-in-law's shoulder. "I think it's best that you and Erik stay in that cabin. We will have enough clothes and food packed before the end of the day."
Erik kept his hand on Christine's stomach. "My top priority is keeping you and our baby safe. We will go to the cabin by carriage, with all the things we will need. And the carriage will return here without us." He kissed his queen's forehead. "Mabel, go tell the kitchen staff to prepare as many meals as they can, we have a stove in the cabin, and Christine has cooking skills. And tell them to prepare meals for Caramel as well."
The housekeeper curtsied and rushed from the room. "Mother, can you help Christine pack as many dresses and undergarments she can fit in one trunk. Then help her find books, her mending, and anything that can keep her busy while we're away."
Alice nodded. "And what will you do?" She asked Erik.
"I'll pack a few things as well. I'll need to find my empty sketchbooks and other materials. I'm headed down to the library. Is there anything in particular you want me to find for you Christine?"
Christine nodded, "Paper." She said. Erik went to the desk and got a piece of paper and the quill.
Handing them to Christine, he watched her scribble book titles onto the paper. She passed the paper back to him.
"I'll find these." He took his wife's hand and kissed it. "I'll be back as soon as I find them." With that he left the room.
Taking the flight of stairs to the library, Erik went straight to the shelf of romance and mystery books. He held the sheet of paper out and browsed the titles until he found each one. Pulling them from the shelves he stacked them on the floor by his feet.
Once he had all of them and a few of his own, he went to the bookshelf that held his empty sketchbooks and drawing materials. He tucked the box of charcoal and oil pastels under his arm and picked up the stack of books and sketchpads. Quickly leaving the library he raced back up the stairs to the bedroom and walked through the open door. Christine stood by the wardrobe pulling gown after gown from the hangers. Passing them to Alice, who folded them and put them in the trunk, she looked up when Erik walked to one of the empty trunks and packed the load of books and drawing materials away.
Erik went to his own wardrobe and pulled his own clothes from the hangers, tossing them on the bed, until the wardrobe was empty. He went to the bed and folded his clothes, putting them on top of a sheet of fabric that would keep them from getting charcoal and oil stains.
Mabel knocked on the door. "Javert has the meals ready. The smaller trunk is meals for Caramel, the bigger one is meals for you."
Erik looked at Christine, who was tucking Caramel's pillow, the mending, yarn, crochet hooks, and knitting needles into a smaller trunk. "Thank you Mabel. We'll be done in a minute. Could you send a few stable-boys to carry these to the wagons?"
"Right away My King." The housekeeper turned and left.
"Do you have everything you want to bring My Queen?" Erik inquired to Christine. She nodded. "Good. Let me get your cloak and we can go to the carriage." He went to the chair and picked up his black cloak and her dark blue one. Draping the material over her shoulders he tied the strings before slipping on his own cloak. A group of stable-boys knocked on the door. "Come in." Erik called.
The boys each took one of the trunks and led the way down the stairs to the courtyard where the carriage and wagon were waiting. Erik gave the carriage driver directions to the cottage then helped Christine into the carriage. The taller boy loaded the last trunk onto the wagon then signaled the driver that they were ready. The same boy hopped onto the wagon bench and picked up the reins. Erik tucked his wife by his side and watched the trees go by as they took the road to the cottage.
"Erik." Christine sat in the rocking chair by the fire knitting a yellow blanket for their baby.
Erik looked up from his book, "Yes, my dear?"
"We haven't picked out a name." She finished the row of stitches then set the project on her lap.
Erik marked his page, closed the book, and set it on the table. "Hmm. I had a thought yesterday. How about Fiona Amelia if we have a girl?"
"Fiona Amelia." Christine rolled the name through her mind. "I like it. My middle name" She picked up her knitting again. "And what about James Frances for a son?"
"Using my middle name." He thought for a minute. "How about James Adrian?"
"Yes. James Adrian. Much better than James Frances."
Erik grinned. "There. Baby names done." He watched as Christine put a hand on her stomach. "I think the baby's hungry."
Christine looked up at him. "Mama's hungry too." She started to stand, but Erik held up a hand.
"I'll make dinner. You stay there and rest." He kissed her quickly then left the cabin for a minute to get a small ham, the bottle of milk, and butter from the small ice-house by the door. He put the meat on a spit and pulled a few potatoes out of their cloth bag.
Pulling a knife from the rack on the wall, he peeled the potatoes and cut them into pieces, putting them in a pot of water. Carrying the pot to the fireplace he set the handle on the hook above the burning logs. Going back to the kitchen he picked up the metal rod and ham, carrying it to the brick oven. He set the end of the metal rod in the middle of an arched piece of iron at the back of the bricks and mounted the other end on a tripod a foot in front of the fire.
He was taking the colander from one of the shelves when the potatoes boiled. Erik took the poker and turned the metal rod out of the fire, taking the pot out of the hook with a thick set of gloves. He took the colander outside with his foot and dumped the hot water and potatoes into it. He picked up the colander before the snow completely melted, so the potatoes wouldn't get dirty.
Dumping them back into the pot, he brought the pot back inside and cut a piece of the stick of butter, dropping it in the pot. Erik found a hand masher and poured a bit of milk in the pot. He went to the fire and turned the ham, mashed the potatoes and added milk until they were smooth.
Christine inhaled. "I think the ham is done."
Erik pulled the ham from the fire and set it on the wooden counter-top, cutting it into slices. He spooned potatoes on two plates and added slices of ham. "Honey, do you like butter on your potatoes?"
Christine nodded. "Yes please."
Erik added a piece of butter to the potatoes and carried the plates to the small table between the armchairs. Christine put her knitting in the basket, and went to get two glasses, filling one with milk and the other with whiskey. She carried the glasses to the table and passed the whiskey to Erik.
They ate in companionable silence. When they were finished Erik brought the dirty plates and silverware to the wooden tub, quickly washing them. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow's Christmas. Our first Christmas together." He pulled Christine from her chair.
"Sleep sounds lovely." Christine yawned. She frowned when Erik blew out the candle after helping her undress, but didn't get into bed with her. "What are you up to?"
"Nothing honey." He kissed her. "I'll just be a few minutes. Get some sleep and I'll be back when I'm done."
Christine sighed and closed her eyes. What's he up to? She asked herself as she drifted of to sleep.
Christine gradually woke as the rays of sunlight flooded the room. She tried to close her eyes again but a wonderful smell drifted past her nose. She threw the covers off and walked around the wall to the small kitchen. Erik stood at the stove in his robe, a fork in his hand watching ham sizzle in the pan. He turned when she walked in. "Good morning. Merry Christmas." He reached for her hand and pulled her against his side. "Can you watch the ham while I go get eggs from the chickens?"
"When did we get chickens?"
"Mother brought them this morning. Two hens and a few chicks." He walked into the cold.
Christine turned to the ham and flipped them. She watched as the grease sizzled and popped. Erik came back in carrying a basket filled with ten eggs. "It's warming up a bit outside." He set the basket on the table, "How many eggs would you like?"
"Just one. I don't particularly like them." Christine turned the ham one more time before moving them to a plate covered with a thin sheet of paper. "Here, I'll cook the eggs." She held out her hand and Erik put two eggs in her palm.
"Are you going to cook them in the ham fat?" Erik rubbed her back as she cracked the eggs into the pan.
"Yes." Christine added a tiny bit of water and watched the eggs fry in the grease. "My mother showed me this when I was younger and wouldn't eat eggs. She would have Cook fry an egg in ham fat to cover up the yolk."
Erik wrapped his arms around her middle, folding his hands over her belly. He rubbed his nose against her neck, planting tiny kisses against her skin. "Well I've never tried that. Should be interesting."
"You'll like it. Can you get plates?" She ran a knife between the eggs in the pan.
Erik pulled two plates and silverware from the shelf. Whistling, he waited for Caramel to come slipping and sliding into the kitchen. "She is very energetic, isn't she?" He put Caramel's breakfast under the table. The puppy sat in front of the bowl. "Oh are you waiting for us to sit down little one?"
"I think she is." Christine looked at her husband, then noticed a sheet hanging between the kitchen area and the living room. "Erik whats that?" She walked over to the sheet.
"Eat. Then we'll see what's behind that sheet." He grabbed her hand. "It's a surprise." Pulling her to the small table, he pushed her chair in then took his own seat. Caramel yipped then attacked her food. Erik kissed his wife's hand before cutting a piece off of his egg. "Am I going to regret this?" He held the fork out.
"No. At least I hope not." She took a bite of her own egg.
Erik swallowed then took the egg off his fork. Chewing, he savored the unique taste of egg and ham fat. "You're right. It does cover the yolk."
"Told you." She kissed his cheek. "I really want to know what's behind that sheet. Can we please go see what It's?" She stared at him, sticking her lip out.
Erik sighed. "Fine. But eat your breakfast first." He finished his egg and ham.
Christine ate as quickly as she could while still being ladylike. "Done." She took their plates to the basin. "Lead the way."
Erik pulled the sheet down, and Christine stared at a decorated Christmas tree and a small pile of boxes. "Erik, how did you manage this last night?"
"My mother helped. Some of those are for you and some of them are for me." He planted a kiss on her surprised lips. "Do you like it?"
"I love it." Christine lay her hand over her stomach where a small bump rested. "We both do."
Erik led her to the tree and pulled her down to sit on the floor. He picked up a long skinny package.
"This one is from my mother." He passed the box to Christine.
She pulled the lid off the box. "Wonderful. A book of fairy-tales." She flipped through the pages, "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Thank my mother." He pulled another present from under the tree. "This one is from me."
Christine opened the box. Inside was a sketch of her holding Caramel. "When did you draw this? How did you draw it without me noticing?"
"I drew it a few days ago. You were dozing while I drew it." Erik grinned.
"Oh. I just remembered. I have something for you." Christine went to the bedroom and retrieved a package. "I had it made last month."
Erik took the box, pulling off the paper he looked at the white mask. "You had this made, for me?"
Christine nodded. "I had it made as a spare in case something happened to the one you're currently using."
"This one has been getting uncomfortable." He pulled off his mask and switched it for the new one. Moving his jaw, Erik tested the feel of the porcelain. "Thank you Christine."
"You're welcome."
Erik turned back to the tree. "We have a lot more presents to open. Shall we?"
"We shall." Christine giggled.
The clock struck two in the afternoon and Christine lifted her head from her husband's shoulder. They had fallen asleep on the floor in front of the fire. She gingerly disentangled herself from her husband's arm, going to the kitchen to prepare a stew for dinner. Pulling a knife from the rack on the wall and vegetables from the pantry, she chopped them into pieces and set them aside before getting a large hunk of beef from the ice-house and filling the pot with water. Erik stirred on the floor and Christine stopped working. She watched as he shifted to his other side and faced the fire, his breathing steady and slow. He was still asleep.
She gently placed the pot of water in the kitchen fireplace, then went back to the chopping block and cut the beef into pieces. The pot of water boiled and she poured the beef and vegetables into the water, adding a jar of broth from the pantry. Stirring the stew, she picked up Caramel's food bowl and filled it with meat and vegetables. Caramel smelled the meat and came racing to the kitchen and her late lunch.
"Sorry girl. I didn't know that noon had passed until I woke up." Christine rubbed Caramel's head. "Eat up my darling puppy." She whispered.
The stew bubbled, and she raced to stir it. "It should be a few hours before the stew is done. I think I'll catch up on my embroidery while I wait." Christine suggested.
Pulling her sewing basket out, she picked up the hoop and fabric where her needle rested. The picture was of a rose and mask. The mask had been finished, but the rose still needed work. "The mask called the rose. That's what I'm calling this one." Christine whispered to herself. She pulled the needle out of the fabric and started stitching where she had left off. Keeping an eye on the stew and her husband, she worked in silence, getting up every half hour to stir the pot.
Finally, when the stew was finished, she pulled the pot off the hook and ladled it into two bowls. Once that was done she cut up a loaf of bread. Tiptoeing to her husband, she planted a kiss on his lips. He returned the kiss, digging his hands into her hair.
"Bonjour monsieur." She teased when he opened his eyes. "I made supper."
"Is it that late already?" Erik pulled off his mask and rubbed his eyes.
"It's." Christine took his hand and pulled him the the table. "I made soup."
"It smells delicious."
"Well, I'm glad you think so." Christine sat down and waited for Erik to push her chair in and settle across from her. "Enjoy."
Alice paced the library, waiting for any news of Barton's capture. Where was the man? Why was he trying to get to Erik? The door was flung open by Cedric. "Alice. We found him. He's in custody right now, on his way to prison. Not the same prison Giselle is at."
"That's wonderful news Cedric." Alice embraced her husband. "Shall I send for Erik and Christine?"
Cedric shook his head. "No. I think it's best they stay in the cottage until Barton and Giselle are sentenced."
"When will that be?"
"In a week. We should send a message to them however, so they know about the sentence."
"Very well. I will write to them." Alice went to the desk and quickly wrote a note to Erik. "I will have one of our stable-boys bring this to them immediately."
"And I have to go to the training yard. With Erik gone, I'm in charge of the knights for now." Cedric rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Be careful."
"I will."