Sins of Omission (13 page)

March 1686

Paris, France

It turned out that my worries about being churched had been unfounded.  I suppose the term itself is what set my teeth on edge.  It made me think of something associated with the Inquisition, but in reality, the vicar said a prayer in the church porch, blessed both myself and Valentine, and proclaimed me ready to attend services.  I breathed a sigh of relief as the ritual ended and we were free to return home.  Frances suggested to Archie that they take advantage of the fair weather and walk home, but he politely declined, which was thoroughly out of character since Archie usually enjoyed walking.  It took Jem to change his mind.  The boy begged and pleaded, eager to spend time outdoors.  I felt sorry for Jem since he had no friends his age to play with, and except for his lessons with Hugo spent most of his time hanging around Archie and driving him to distraction. 

Archie was always patient and kind, allowing Jem to help him with the horses or letting him polish the scabbard while he cleaned his sword, but the boy needed something to keep him busy, as did Frances.  She seemed listless and irritable, often sitting down only to jump up a moment later, wander toward the window, and then come right back to sit for only a moment before taking off again.  As much as I secretly disapproved of the idea of her marriage, I had to admit that Frances was no longer a child and needed the pursuits of a woman to keep her occupied.  She could no more go back to the schoolroom than I could return to being the woman I was before I recklessly plunged into the passage in the crypt.  We were both irrevocably changed by our experiences, and needed to look to the future.  It pained Frances to be around Valentine, and the only cure was a family of her own, and a baby to dim the pain of losing Gabriel. 

I was feeling terribly thirsty, and more than a little hungry by the time we finally arrived at home.  I was grateful for Valentine’s hearty appetite, but she seemed to be draining me, and leaving my body depleted of both hydration and nutrients.  I’d lost the baby weight very rapidly and was actually thinner than I had been before getting pregnant, a fact that Hugo remarked on only the day before.  He was worried about me, but I felt physically well especially when I made sure to include some protein with every meal, otherwise I became a bit shaky by midmorning, as I was now.  I stopped by the kitchen to have a cup of ale and whatever cook might offer me by way of a snack, while Hugo took the baby upstairs to be changed by Elodie before her feeding.  I came upstairs to find Hugo seated in his favorite armchair by the hearth, staring at Valentine in a way that nearly made my heart stop.  I thought I was familiar with all of Hugo’s facial expressions, but this was one I hadn’t seen before.  It was a mixture of love, sorrow, regret, and something else I couldn’t name. 

“Hugo, is she all right?” I cried as I stumbled toward them, suddenly scared. 

“Yes, of course,” Hugo replied, looking up at me, his eyes full of confusion.  “Why would you think otherwise?”

I took the baby and sat down across from Hugo ready to nurse.  Valentine appeared to be asleep, but latched on right away, never one to pass up on a meal.  She was pleasantly plump, a solid little weight in my arms which I always found reassuring.  I breathed a sigh of relief as she began to suck, and discreetly checked her for any signs of a temperature.  The baby seemed fine; it was Hugo who needed checking.  He still looked as if he’d seen a ghost; his eyes fixed on Valentine as if he expected her to disappear at any moment.

“Hugo, what’s wrong?” I asked carefully.  He wasn’t the type of man to wear his emotions on his sleeve, so the look of bereavement I had seen a few moments ago had to have been brought on by some strong emotion.  I had simply caught him in an unguarded moment.

“I’ve been thinking,” he replied as his fingers drummed on the armrest of the chair.  Hugo often did that when he was agitated, as he clearly was now.

“Always a dangerous pastime where you are concerned,” I quipped in the hope of making him smile, but my joke didn’t go down as I’d intended, making him wince instead.

“Not in this case.”  He took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, his face in his hands.  “Sometimes I wish you’d never shown me the future,” he began.  “Ignorance truly is bliss.”

“Why, do you miss television, cars, and chips?”  I knew that wasn’t what he was referring to, but I still hoped that an attempt at humor would help him put his feelings into words.

“I do, actually, but that’s not what I meant.  Before I knew the future of my country, I had a reason to follow my conscience and do what I thought was right, but now, regardless of what I think or do, the outcome is already known to me, and it’s shaping my actions.”

“In what way?”

“With James II on the throne, I believed that there was a chance for a Catholic monarchy in England, and that gave me some modicum of hope, but now I know that there will never be another Catholic king, or queen, on the throne of England.  That knowledge should have no bearing on my personal life, but it does; it changes everything.”

“Hugo, what are you talking about?” I asked gently, seeing his obvious distress.  He was skirting around something important, something he wasn’t ready to say out loud, but needed to get off his chest; something that might have been brought on by the service we’d just attended since he seemed to be in much better spirits before we left for the church.  I couldn’t imagine what could have upset him, but he’d been nearly silent since leaving the church, a fact that I’d only just realized.

“I’m talking about Valentine, and our future son, should we have one.  Knowing what I know, I find myself wondering if I might be doing my children a disservice by insisting on raising them in the Catholic Church.”  Hugo seemed to almost deflate as he uttered the words, his pallor worsening in the soft light of the room.

“But your faith means everything to you,” I exclaimed. Hugo’s faith was his moral compass; his anchor in a roiling sea of European politics, and his source of solace.  For him to even bring this up was paramount to emotional suicide, and the fact that he had finally shown me just how deeply he’d been affected by learning what was to come.

“My faith will not change, but I want what’s best for my children, and what’s best for them, politically speaking, is to be Protestant.  I don’t want them to be a minority in their own country, viewed with suspicion and mistrust, and discriminated against because of how they choose to worship.  I want them to be free to love, and not feel that they can’t marry the person of their choice because they are of the wrong religion.  I want them to belong,” he finished hotly.

“Is that how you feel, that you don’t belong?”

“I’ve been taught by my father from a young age to keep my faith a secret.  I’ve masqueraded as a faithful Protestant at Court and at home.  Revealing my true religion would have marked me as someone who was different and whose judgment was in question.  Not all Catholics believe in thumb screws and burning heretics at the stake, but that’s how the English people view us.  I’ve benefited from my deception, but I’ve also suffered for it, so why put my children in the same situation?”

“Hugo, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”  I couldn’t believe that we were actually having this conversation, but I knew where Hugo was going with this.

“I would like to baptize Valentine in the Protestant Church, if that’s all right with you,” he said quietly.

“Oh, sweetheart, are you sure?” I asked, my heart going out to him.  This was a huge sacrifice on his part, and there’d be no going back once the deed was done.

“Yes, I believe I am.  We should do it as soon as possible.  Now that you’ve been churched, we can make arrangements for the baptism.  However, I’d like to do it privately -– no guests.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons,” Hugo replied cryptically and rose to his feet.  “I need some air,” he said and strode from the room, leaving me shaken and confused.  He seemed sure of his decision, but the request for a private baptism left me with a sinking feeling.  Hugo had tried to shelter me as much as he could during my confinement and after the birth, but I wasn’t an ignorant girl who knew nothing of the undercurrents rippling beneath the surface of history.  We were in a Catholic country, ruled by a Catholic king, and if Hugo meant to make a place for himself at the Court of Louis XIV, he needed to wear his Catholicism like a badge as the price of admission.  Baptizing our baby into the Protestant Church would spoil Hugo’s plans, and if I knew my husband, his plans were not as straightforward as he’d have me believe.

By the time the church clock struck two a.m., Hugo had given up all pretense of sleep.  He’d helped himself to several cups of brandy before retiring, but the alcohol had all the effect of water, leaving him wide-awake and unbearably agitated.  Telling Neve of his decision had been but a small part of what had been on his mind over the past few weeks, and although he was glad to have finally spoken the words out loud, he still felt as if he’d lost a part of himself this day.  It was all for the best, he knew that, but his faith was such an important part of him that he felt like Judas Iscariot.  Not having Valentine baptized into the Catholic Church was a sin he’d have to live with for the rest of his life, but he’d already married a Protestant, and this was the next step on his path away from the Church.

Hugo glanced over at Neve, who was sleeping peacefully having fed the baby an hour ago.  He’d pretended to be asleep in order to hide the evidence of his frustrated desire, knowing that his advances would not be welcome.  Neve had barely allowed him to touch her since the birth, leaving him confused and upset.  She’d been so easily aroused while pregnant; a certain look, a fleeting touch, a sweet kiss, and she was reaching for his flies, ready and willing, and now she was as cold and remote as a block of ice.  Hugo assumed that it was natural for women to feel a certain lack of interest after the birth, as they recovered and spent most of their waking hours caring for a baby, but it had been two months, and the doctor said that after thirty days, it was reasonable to expect to resume marital relations.  Most men would either just exercise their husbandly rights or slake their lust on a whore, but Hugo couldn’t fathom doing either.  He would never force himself on Neve, nor would he betray his marriage vows by visiting a brothel.  He didn’t want just anyone; he wanted his wife.

Hugo briefly wondered what his father would have advised, but deep down, he already knew.  Joss Everly had been a harsh man, who brooked no disobedience from wife, children, or servants.  He never spared the rod, never spoiled the child, and never gave any quarter to his wife.  Hugo could almost hear the old man’s voice, as full of derision as it had been when he was still alive. 

“Do you never tire of your sentimental claptrap, boy?” the voice demanded.  “Your wife is your property as much as your horse is.  Do you ask your horse if you may ride it?  No, I thought not, so why ask permission of your wife?  Take her, and if she gives you any trouble, just show her the back of your hand.  You’re her master, and she should know it.  Your mother never had the temerity to deny me; she knew better.  I always said you were too soft.” 

Yes, perhaps he was, but he could never be the tyrant his father was.  Strange how he still argued with the old man in his head so many years after his death, still torn between pleasing his sire and being true to himself.  His father always said that he’d taken after his mother, who had been kind and loving, but whose spirit had been broken years before Hugo was even born.  His mother would have advised him to be patient and kind, to try and understand what Neve was feeling rather than assert his power over her like some feudal overlord, and his mother’s advice would be the one he would take every time. 

Hugo moved closer to Neve and pulled her into his arms, but even in sleep, she stiffened. 
Has she stopped loving me?
he thought, suddenly realizing that the lack of desire could be stemming from a change of heart.  Was she sorry that she’d followed him back in time, and could she be planning on returning to her old life and taking Valentine with her?  He couldn’t stop her, of course.  If she chose to go back, he would not stand in her way.  He couldn’t say with any honesty that he would have made the same sacrifice and chosen to go back to a time of violence and ignorance for a woman, but Neve had given him her love and her life, and he’d accepted them gratefully, and stupidly assumed that they were his for the duration of her lifetime.  Had he failed her in some way?  Had he done something to hurt or disrespect her? 

Suddenly, the pain in Hugo’s heart was too much for him to bear alone.  He needed to know what was on Neve’s mind, and he couldn’t wait another minute.  If she were making plans to leave him, he’d rather know and try to accept her decision than lie here in the dark second-guessing her motives.  Hugo gently shook Neve awake, holding his breath as her eyes flew open in panic.  She sat bolt upright, her gaze going straight to the cradle on her side of the bed.  The baby slept peacefully, her tiny mouth open in an O, just as it had been when she released Neve’s nipple, already snoozing happily.

“What is it?” Neve asked, finally accepting that there was nothing wrong with Valentine, and Hugo had woken her up for some reason of his own. 

“Are you leaving me?” he blurted out, suddenly unsure that he wanted to hear the answer.  He’d been heartbroken when Catherine left him after two weeks of marriage, but if Neve left him now, he’d never recover.  Nothing would matter anymore because she was the best part of him, the part that gave him a reason for being, the lifeblood that flowed through his heart and kept him alive.

“What?! Where did that come from?” She was wide-awake now, looking at him with that frown of worry that caused a line to appear between her brows.  Hugo could just make out her features in the glow from the dying embers of the fire, but he was relieved to see shock rather than the guilt of being found out.  Neve looked genuinely perplexed.

“You haven’t allowed me to touch you since the baby’s birth.  Have I done something to hurt you?  Have you stopped loving me?”  Hugo cringed at the pathetic pleading tone of his voice, his pathetic need to be reassured that he was still loved and needed.  He felt like a dejected puppy, but he couldn’t stop now.  “Why are you rejecting me, Neve?”

“Because I’m scared,” Neve replied simply. 

“Of me?”

“No, of getting pregnant again.  Hugo, this was my first baby, and I had no idea what to expect.  I was so scared of giving birth, especially in this time and place, but I pacified myself with the idea that there would be a competent physician by my side, or even an experienced midwife.  Their presence would not make up for the lack of hospital and an epidural, but at least there would be someone to guide me through the process and help me bring our baby into this world.  Instead, I got Archie, who might have delivered a foal at some point in his life.  There was a moment that night when I really believed that I was going to die,” Neve said quietly, making him feel like an utter ass for questioning her love for him.  She’d risked her life, more than once, and here he was, whining about her not giving him the affection he needed. 

“I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my life, but the thought of getting pregnant again terrifies me.  I know how much you long for a son, and my heart breaks every time you reach for me, but I just can’t bring myself to surrender this tiny bit of control I have over my destiny at this moment.  Please forgive me,” she cried softly.  “I know I have been unfair to you.”

“Is that all?” Hugo asked, feeling ridiculously relieved.  “I thought you were planning to go back to the future with Valentine.”

“It never even crossed my mind, you silly fool,” she said and bent down to plant a kiss on his lips.  “I will get over this fear, but I just need a little time.”

“Neve, I do want another child, but I can’t guarantee that you would have an easier time of it during delivery.  I’m so terribly sorry for not being here when you needed me.  I would have turned this city upside down to find help, but I failed you, through no fault of my own.  I will respect your wishes, but there are other ways to avoid pregnancy than celibacy.  I need you, and I want you, and I will do whatever it takes to avoid getting you with child, if you’ll let me.”

“What can you do?  I know the Church’s stance on birth control, not that there are any reliable methods available to us in this century.”

“I don’t care about the Church’s stance; I will not lose you over doctrine.  I will see to it,” Hugo promised as he noted a softening of her face.  Perhaps not all was lost.  “In the meantime, there are other ways of loving,” he whispered softly as he slid down between her legs.  Hugo smiled to himself when Neve let out a whimper of pleasure as his tongue slid inside her, reclaiming what he believed to be rightfully his.