Chapter Five #5
Bastian nodded. “She is extremely beautiful,” he said. “And Lady Gloucester said she is highly intelligent. She can evidently speak a few languages and she sings like an angel. I have heard her.”
Braxton was watching the way his son rather disdainfully described his wife. It was clear the man had no interest in the woman. Slowly, Braxton’s eyebrows lifted.
“And you are displeased with a beautiful and talented wife, daughter of one of the greatest knights England has ever known?” he asked. Then, he shook his head in disbelief. “Could it possibly be true that you are that much of an idiot?”
Bastian tried not to show any remorse or confusion to his father’s question.
The way the old man phrased it, Gisella sounded like the most desirable marital prospect in England and he was a fool for not being more gracious about his good fortune.
Perhaps she was indeed the most appealing marital prospect in the country.
Perhaps it was his resistance to marriage in general that kept him from noticing. Now, he was starting to feel uncertain.
“I hold nothing against her personally, Father,” he said, trying to explain his position even though he already knew it was indefensible. “It is simply that I do not wish to be married. I am far too busy and a wife does not fit into those plans.”
Braxton’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You will listen to me and listen well,” he growled.
“It sounds to me as if Gloucester has made a fine match and you have shown your gratitude by resisting it. What is the matter with you, Bas? And what of this poor girl? If she is as beautiful and talented as you say she is, then you have undoubtedly made her feel as if she is lowly and unworthy with your attitude towards her. That is utterly shameful.”
Bastian felt as if he were five years old again, now being scolded by his unhappy father. He tried not to feel guilty but he couldn’t help it because what his father said was essentially true. He grunted, hanging his head.
“She does not want to be married, either,” he said, grasping at the last straws of justification. “She has not exactly shown me any respect, either.”
Braxton reached up and slapped his son on the side of the head, a gesture he had been doing since Bastian had been a very small boy. It wasn’t enough to hurt but it was enough to get his attention, which was exactly why he did it.
“She is more than likely reacting to your negative disposition,” he admonished. Then, he pointed a finger at him. “You are married to the woman for the rest of your life. She will be the mother of your children, God willing. She should be the most important thing in your life.”
Bastian frowned. “But I do not even know her.”
Braxton’s expression reflected his outrage.
“And you will never get to know her with this attitude you are displaying,” he said.
“Have you even spoken to her? I would wager to say that all you have done is make sure she is very aware of your displeasure. Do you think that makes her want to be kind to you? Of course not. She probably wants to slug you in the mouth and I do not blame her.”
Now, Bastian felt ashamed of himself. No one else on the planet could do that to him, but his father could.
He had always trusted his father’s judgment and wisdom in all things so there was no reason to believe the old man was wrong in this situation, either.
After a moment, he shrugged his big shoulders.
“I do not believe either one of us wants to be married,” he said. “We have both said as much. It is true I’ve not spoken to her beyond that, but there truly has not been much of an opportunity. We met at Bella Court, we were married there, and now we are here. It has all happened rather quickly.”
Braxton regarded his son, his broad shoulders now slumped with disgrace.
He wanted to take pity on him but he couldn’t, not when he was behaving abysmally.
Bastian was the most arrogant man he had ever met and with good reason, but that arrogance was hard to temper sometimes.
Still, there was much good in the man, buried deep. Braxton softened his stance somewhat.
“Your mother and I met under much the same conditions,” he said.
“We had not met face to face prior to our wedding. I literally saw her for the first time as we stood before the priest to take our vows. After that, her father had a rather large feast that went on for three days and during that time, she spent most of it with her mother. When we finally departed her family home, she wept for days afterwards. At that point, I was ready to slit my wrists and throw myself into the river simply to dissolve the marriage, but I managed to be patient. It was the best thing I ever did. You know how much I loved your mother, Bastian. I pray you know the same love, my son. Be patient with your wife and be kind. The results may surprise you.”
Bastian was looking at his father at this point, mulling over the gist of his wise words.
He knew the man was correct but patience had always been a difficult thing for him, especially in a personal relationship.
He had a hard time letting people into his world.
In fact, very few had ever been there. His father lived there, as had the Maid.
She had known him more intimately than most on a spiritual level.
Perhaps that’s why her death had affected him so.
He realized the thought of letting someone close to him again frightened him.
Maybe that was a good deal of his problem.
“I will try,” he said after a moment.
“Swear it?”
“I do.”
Braxton smiled, his big teeth yellowed with age. “Then I am pleased,” he said. “I would like to meet her now.”
Bastian shrugged. “She is probably asleep,” he said glumly. “We rode most of the night to reach here.”
Braxton began tossing off his covers. “See if she is asleep,” he said. “If she is not, I should like to break my fast with her and with you. But if she is sleeping, do not wake her. There will be time to come to know her.”
Bastian rose wearily, absolutely exhausted and now emotionally drained. “I will go and see if she is awake.”
Braxton put his bare feet on the cold floor, struggling to stand.
“One more thing, Bas,” he said as his son reached out and pulled him to stand.
“Keep her with you always. Separate bedchambers are no way for a newly married couple to sleep. You cannot come to know the woman if you are always separated from her. Put her in your bedchamber and not a guest chamber while you are here. How am I to have any grandchildren otherwise?”
Bastian sighed heavily, nodding his head.
There was nothing left for him to do but agree.
As his father shuffled about the chamber in preparation for the coming day, Bastian made his way out of the room and hunted down the nearest house servant who told him that Lady de Russe was up on the third floor.
Mounting the steps to the floor above, Bastian realized he was actually nervous.
What if kindness and patience would not work with her?
What if she had an intense dislike for him that could not be mended?
What if the harsh words and circumstances back at Bella Court could not be undone?
Perhaps this marriage was ended before it truly began.
He wondered.