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Shaking her head sadly, Celiese explained, “No, I have decided to devote my attentions to merely rebuilding a small portion of my home, so that I will have a place to spend the winter. I will still need food, of course. Do you find the fishing good from the beach?”
Surprised that the delicate young woman would consider such a pastime, André described his own luck. “Some days I am fortunate, others I am not. I go out very early in the morning when the fish are hungry, but sometimes I am there all day before I have any luck. In cold weather I dare not go out upon the beach, for I am clumsy and too often become wet, and I have no wish to risk illness.”
“Well, then, when the weather is too poor for fishing I will have to hunt,” she decided thoughtfully. “I know how, my husband taught me all that my father didn’t.”
“But that is ridiculous!” André replied in horror. “You cannot creep through the woods searching for game.”
“And why not?” She laughed at his disdain. “My life has been very different from the one I knew here as a child, André. I have learned that a woman must be able to provide for herself. In Denmark, since the men are so frequently away from home in the summer, the women supervise the work upon the farms themselves. They are much more independent than the women here in France, and I think happier for it.”
Aghast that she would describe the lives of her captors as if they should be admired, André stuttered nervously, “But you are a Frenchwoman, how can you even think such things?”
“Thinking is not the difficult part, André; living as I wish to is what will provide the challenge.” She looked away then, unable to accept the fact that she would have to spend even
one more day of her life without Mylan by her side.
The elderly servant watched his companion’s expression change to one of such abject sorrow that he was moved to tears himself. Drying his eyes upon his sleeve, he attempted to offer the only encouragement that came to mind. “I cannot believe your husband has left you here like this; surely he means to return soon. I must have misunderstood his meaning this morning, for I cannot believe any man would be so great a fool as to leave you.”
Celiese reached out to pat his hand lightly. “My husband is a proud man, André, and a determined one. Everything continually went wrong for us, and, while I did not think I was to blame, he did.”
“Then he is a fool!” André criticized sharply.
“No, he is no fool.” She gathered up the remains of their meal and packed it away into the man’s basket. “Thank you for this wonderful supper. I was more hungry than I realized, but I’d worked all afternoon without once thinking of food.”
André was wise enough to know Celiese had changed the subject for a reason and he did not make any further comments about her husband, but he had meant precisely what he had said about the man. “If you would not mind, I would like to bring you something each day. I have no skill as a farmer after spending my life raising horses, but I manage to trade for what I need. Our numbers are so few that we take care of one another, and all will want to see you have to neither hunt nor fish to live among us.”
Clearly, she had shocked him with ideas she thought only reasonable, and rather than argue thanked him for his generosity. “I will be delighted to share your meals whenever you wish, and as soon as I am able I will contribute something too.”
André bid her good night and started down the path to the village, then recalled something he had not thought to offer and walked back to speak with Celiese once more. “Whenever you wish to visit your mother, I will escort you. Simply tell me the day before, and I will have the horses ready at dawn.”
Not knowing what to say to his suggestion, she thought it best to smile warmly, as though she were pleased. “Why thank you, I will be busy here for the next few weeks, and another visit to her will have to wait.”
“Whatever you wish.” Believing he had pleased her, André smiled to himself as he walked home, but he was afraid Lady Marie would not approve of the life her daughter planned to lead now that she had returned home.
Once the sun had set, Celiese’s courage deserted her. With Mylan, sleeping under the stars had been an adventure; alone it was misery, an oppressive reminder of the vastness of the heavens and her own pitiful insignificance. She rolled over upon her stomach and propped her chin in her hands and closed her eyes to shut out the brightness of the nighttime sky. If only Mylan had given her an opportunity to speak with him that morning.
There must have been some way for them to reach a compromise, but they had had no chance to talk over their situation, and it had changed greatly since their arrival in France. They were again husband and wife, but not friends; lovers whose passion for each other was insatiable, but two proud people who could not seem to agree on how their lives should be lived.
“Together,” she whispered softly to herself. That Mylan had deserted her, left her sound asleep dreaming only of him, had been unspeakably cruel, but someday he would have to return. If only because Robert demanded to speak to both of them together, but eventually he would come back, and she wanted him to be astonished by how successfully she had managed to live without him. She would see their house was completed, the gardens replanted, the fields sewn with grain. She would do it all by herself if she had to, but do it she would, simply to make him realize the chance for happiness he had thrown away when he had left her with little more than the earth upon which she lay.
Sleep was a long time in coming, but she was too tired to dream that night, and Mylan’s taunting smile no longer haunted her as it had when she had been held prisoner. His presence had left her dreams as suddenly as he had left her life, but that did not lessen the aching need she still felt for him, nor ease her sorrow in the slightest.
When she awakened the next morning, a thick blanket of fog hovered over the land, shutting out the light of the rising sun and covering the ground with a damp mist. She shivered and wrapped her now damp blanket tightly around herself as she wished she had some way to light a fire. Knowing André would have one burning and thinking how cozy and warm his small cottage would be, she quickly got dressed, donned her long cloak, and made her way to his home.
Hearing the knock at his door, André rushed to admit his visitor. “I was just coming to get you! Come in and warm yourself by the fire.” The elderly man moved one of his benches in front of the hearth and gestured for her to be seated. “I had awakened to find the day a poor one for venturing out, but you could not be allowed to remain out in the elements.”
“I want to thank you again for your hospitality, André. This fire is delightful. I will gather wood today so I can have my own fire tomorrow.” She held out her hands to warm them in the fire’s glow.
Looking askance, André did not comment upon what he thought of her gathering her own firewood. He was certain there were several young boys who would be grateful for the opportunity to be of service and decided to send for one later to spare her that labor. “You must have some breakfast, for you ate little last night.” He busied himself preparing a thin porridge, apologizing that he had so little talent as a cook.
“Please do not trouble yourself for me. I have not felt well enough to eat for several mornings, and today is no exception.” Indeed, her stomach lurched as she spoke of her problem, and she feared she might again become ill.
“I will brew some herb tea for you, then, as you must take no chances with your health. If the weather permits travel later in the day, will you not consider making another visit to your mother? We can accomplish little if there is rain, and nothing at all should you fall ill.”
André was greatly worried, for Celiese’s fair complexion had grown pale, making her green eyes appear enormous, and her hair, which fell in damp ringlets about her shoulders, gave her the appearance of a neglected waif. A sorry image he had hoped to change for the better with a warm meal.
“I am not ready to visit her yet, truly I am not.” She could think of no way to please her mother other than to stay away.
“I am merely being practical.” He explained. “You could reside with her while a portion of your home is made ready for you to occupy.” Seeing another important point, he offered helpfully, “A place such as the Convent of Saint Valery would afford you the solitude in which to consider those problems you mentioned yesterday.”
