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Remembrance

Page 92

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At that answer Dorothy knew for certain that her mother was involved. She didn’t know what her mother was doing, or why, but she knew it was her mother. Alida loved intrigue. Loved to tell one daughter something and another something else. Dorothy had seen it many times. If Talis was not telling Callie every day that he was working to marry her, then there was a nefarious reason.

Dorothy saw the way Talis looked at Callie, how he watched her whenever she passed. The most beautiful woman in the world could be in his arms, and if Callie passed, Talis would drop her. This was not just Dorothy’s observation but every woman’s who made a play for the beautiful Talis. All the women worked hard at taking him away from Callie. In truth, his love for another woman made him even more valuable, as he was unattainable.

So, if he hadn’t spoken to Callie of marriage then there was outside interference. Honestly, Dorothy was terrified of her mother, but maybe she could help a little bit, because as far as Dorothy could tell, there was no reason why Callie and Talis shouldn’t marry and produce half a dozen children—and her father could pay for it. Maybe if they did marry it would inject some happiness into Hadley Hall.

Dorothy hesitated at telling Callie a story because Callie was so very good at storytelling, but, tentatively, she started. “Did you ever hear how my third eldest sister got her husband?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “She went to bed with a man.”

Startled, Callie turned to look at Dorothy and waited for her to continue. Second only to telling stories, she liked to hear them.

Acting as though she weren’t smiling throughout her body, Dorothy continued her story. It was pleasing to get the attention of a practiced storyteller like Callie. “By the time our second sister was married, we knew our father was never going to get husbands for the rest of us. He complained incessantly about the money a dowry and wedding would cost. Most of us were too young to concern ourselves with this, but Alice decided to take matters into her own hands. One night after a hunt, she chose a man, sent a small keg of wine to his room, then, much later, climbed into bed with him. She had her maid, who she paid handsomely, run weeping to fetch our father, and there he found his daughter in bed with a man. The man was married to my sister before he was sober.”

Callie took her time before answering. She had not missed Dorothy’s point. “That would never work with Talis,” she said slowly and it was obvious she had thought of this trick. “He has such a sense of honor. He says that a man cannot get married if he has no money. And, besides, he is not…interested in me. Whenever I get too near him, he turns away.”

Dorothy tried to hide her smile. This was one aspect of love she did not envy. Callie always thought Talis did not want her, that he lusted after other women. But Dorothy had seen Callie stretch, her gown expanding across her newly formed breasts, and at the sight Talis’s face would turn white with desire. Dorothy had thought that if a man ever looked at her like that once in her life, she might die happy. Well, truthfully, to be safe, she’d rather like to have most of the men on earth look at her like that.

But always, by the time Callie finished stretching, Talis had managed to turn away, and the next moment he would be furiously attacking another man in mock combat. As far as Dorothy could tell, Talis combated his lust for Callie with physical exercise—which is why he was always in a frenzy of motion, dancing, riding, hunting, practicing with his sword. Once, when Edith had said, “Does he never sit still?” Dorothy had laughed out loud. As long as Talis’s desire for Callie was unquenched, he would never sit down. In fact he was losing weight. No matter how much he ate, it wasn’t enough to balance all the exercise he was getting as he tried to overcome his lust for Callie. One woman said that Talis rose before dawn to swim in the icy river that ran not too far from the house. But that couldn’t be true; no one could stand those frigid waters.

“Perhaps Talis needs a little encouragement,” Dorothy said. “Maybe a push over the edge.” Personally, she thought that the push of a feather—a feather guided by Callie—might break whatever hold Alida had over him. “Perhaps he needs the right place and time. If he…had his way with you, would his honor not force him to marry you?”

“Yes…,” Callie said tentatively as she pulled Kipp from around her neck and held him in her arms to stroke his soft fur. “Do you think he really thinks of me as

a woman?” She wasn’t about to admit to Dorothy how many times in the last year she had tried to get Talis to kiss her. But every time, he had pushed her away, saying things like “I cannot bear it” and “You will drive me mad.” If he’d just tell her that he wanted to marry her and not one of those hundreds—nay, thousands—of women hanging around him, she would be happy. If he told her he wanted her she would be content, but he didn’t. He said nothing.

Dorothy continued. “If one of your story ladies was in love with a man who was surrounded by beautiful women, what would your lady do?”

Callie smiled. “She would force him to look at her.” She gave a malicious little smile. “Preferably naked.”

Dorothy smiled. This was why she spent so much time with Callie. Callie had the courage to put into words what Dorothy felt. Perhaps it was because Callie had been raised on a farm, but at times she was so very…very unladylike.

“I think she would…,” Callie began as she started weaving another one of her stories. At the sound of that special tone in Callie’s voice, Kipp closed his eyes in contentment and Dorothy opened hers wide in anticipation.

Once again Talis was standing before her and again Alida felt love run through her heart. It always amazed her that in the last year she had come to love this boy perhaps more even than her husband did. With each day she could feel her strength leaving her, and she knew that the old witch woman had been wrong: She would not live out another year. She hid this knowledge from Talis, but every day she coughed up more blood. Only the herbs Penella gave her kept her from coughing in front of Talis.

Now, as he did every day, Talis was telling her about his great feats of that day, how he had excelled at this and that, how he was the best there was at everything. Alida would have thought he was bragging, but the truth, according to the reports she asked for, was that he was actually better than even he said he was. She liked that he told her all about himself, liked that he was her best friend.

Of course she refused to believe what that horrid old maid of hers, Penella, said, that Talis was telling her about himself to show that he had learned enough that now he should be allowed to marry Callie.

“He enjoys my company!” Alida had spat at her maid.

Penella had learned her lesson; she had learned that food and survival were more important than protecting anyone. So she kept her opinions to herself, but that didn’t keep her brain still. Truthfully, Penella thought it was disgusting the way Alida flirted with Talis; no one with any sense would think they were mother and son.

On the other hand, Alida treated Callie as a mother would, always criticizing her, never wanting her to look too pretty. If Alida happened to see Callie and the girl’s hair was unbound, Alida nearly had fits.

It was Penella’s opinion that Alida was using Talis to make up for the way John had ignored his wife all these years and the way her children, sick of being bullied by her, came to her only when they had to.

“Come, sit by me,” Alida said, motioning to the sheepskin at her feet. She loved to have Talis sit on the floor at her feet so she could run her fingers through his hair while he talked. His daily presence helped to make up for the fact that none of her own children ever came to see her unless commanded to do so. It was a bitter taste in Alida’s mouth that her sons, whom she had done so much for, worked at avoiding her. As for her daughters, she sometimes thought they had no use at all for her. Sometimes she thought that Edith even hated her. And merely because Alida had saved her from marriage, that institution that in Alida’s experience gave nothing but misery. Better to stay unmarried and in your father’s house than to turn yourself over to a husband.

Only Talis came to Alida every day and talked to her as she lay alone and weak in her room.

“I want to marry Callie,” Talis said softly.

Alida gave a great sigh. Now came the bad part. Every day the same thing. Every day he said the same words, asked the same question. And every day she wanted to tell him the truth. Talis was destined for greater things than to marry John Hadley’s daughter.

“When you ask me if you may marry Callie, to me it means that you are wanting me to die, since you will be allowed to marry her after I am dead.”

This statement did not shock Talis, since he had heard it many times before. “That is not true. I want to marry Callie because I love her and I want to be with her.”

“Will you not have enough time with her after my death?”



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