Page 14 of When I Fall in Love (De Piaget #4)

J ennifer stood just inside the doors of Seakirk Abbey and tried to blend in with Nicholas’s brothers. She had braided her hair and tucked it into the back of Montgomery’s tunic so it didn’t show so much, her Doc Martens were filthy and probably nondescript enough, and she was wearing John’s cloak pulled close around her face. Who would know she was a girl? And if they knew, who would care? She hoped no one, because she wasn’t sure she could move.

She was listening to Gregorian chant performed in the original setting by a choir of medieval monks. It was like rain after a very long, very hot dry spell.

She had forgotten.

She closed her eyes and leaned against Montgomery, letting the music wash over her. It was glorious beyond description and she could hardly catch her breath. Who would have thought that something so simple could be so enthralling?

She stood there forever, drinking in the sounds, wishing it would never end.

“Jennifer?”

She smiled. When was the last time she’d heard her name pronounced with that soft, French J? All Nicholas’s brothers did it. Nicholas, though, didn’t. He called her Mistress McKinnon if he called her anything. She supposed it was for the best. If he called her by her given name, she might not survive.

She dragged herself back to the present and opened her eyes. She realized that her cheeks were wet from tears and Miles was peering into her hood. He smiled gravely.

“The music?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Then come with me,” he whispered. “We’ll go closer.”

Jennifer nodded and followed him to where the nave was separated from the rest of the chapel by an iron-barred partition. She stood at the gate and clutched the bars. The music blew through her soul like a bracing bit of chill autumn wind. She was accustomed to Rachmaninoff bringing tears to her eyes; she never thought medieval chant would do the same.

Obviously, she’d been in the Middle Ages too long.

She longed for her violin in a way that made her catch her breath. Why had she ever thought to put it aside for even a moment? All those years, when she could have been concertizing, spent designing and sewing baby clothes that anyone else could have done a thousand times better...

Regret was a terrible thing.

She vowed that when she got back to the twenty-first century, she would pick her violin up and never put it back down. She would practice until her fingers bled. She would accept any gig, no matter what podunk town it found itself in, and she would give Charles Salieri very, very expensive Christmas gifts every year to make up for all the times she’d said no to dates he’d tried to get her to take in the past.

If she could get back.

But for now, the chant was enough. At least it was music.

She listened until Miles touched her arm. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Yes?”

“Can you pry yourself away yet? I think Nick’s almost done.”

She nodded, then looked to find Nicholas whispering furiously with a man she assumed was the abbot. “He doesn’t look happy.”

“Seakirk Abbey is not his favorite place,” Miles said. “I daresay they aren’t overfond of him here, either.”

“What did he do?” she asked.

“It’s all part of a long list of secrets he has. I’ll tell you a few, if you like.”

“I’m not sure I want to know any of them, do I?”

“You might find the conversation interesting. I didn’t have the chance to tell you much whilst he was senseless.” He looked at his brother and smiled grimly. “It is far past time he ceased to let his past have power over him.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re about to do something you shouldn’t?”

“Is it the glint in my eye?” Miles asked.

“No, it’s the chills I’m getting down my spine,” she said honestly. “Those sort of don’t-go-there chills I get every time I’m on the verge of making an enormous mistake.”

“I never get them,” Miles said promptly. “You know, Nick is usually the sunny one in our family. You might like to see what’s buried under all that frost. I imagine with the right sort of inducement, he would show it. What say you?”

“Forget it,” Jennifer said, shaking her head firmly. “He’s angry enough as it is—even I can see that. If you push him, he just might kill you.”

“He loves me too well to do me any serious harm.”

“You know, one of my father’s favorite sayings is let sleeping dogs lie. My grandmother has one she likes even more: the cesspit doesn’t stink till you stir it.” She paused. “Or words to that effect.”

“I like the last one.”

“I thought you might. So, take Granny’s advice and leave him alone.”

“Hmmm,” he said, then linked his arm with hers. “Let us go outside. I think I need some air.”

“Miles, really,” she protested, but she suspected he wasn’t going to listen to her. She looked at Nicholas as they slipped out the front door. He was standing there with his arms folded over his chest, his expression so cold she was tempted to rub her arms. She wondered how the abbot managed to not cower.

Then again, the man was probably used to dealing with nobility. “Well,” she said, “at least the abbot isn’t yelling at him.”

“When Artane is your father, you find that no one yells at you.”

“Do you find that?” Jennifer asked.

Miles smiled. “If I caused less trouble, I might. Here, let us seek out a comfortable place and I will tell you all sorts of appalling things. We will see what sort of reaction it produces.”

“Miles,” she warned, “I honestly don’t care if I ever see Lord Sunshine.”

“Oh, I think you would care, if you knew what you were missing.” He looked over his shoulder. “Ah, Nick,” he said easily, “finished so soon?”

“Finished so soon?” he echoed in disgust. “Gouged so quickly, rather. And we have but begun the negotiations. But I will endeavor not to ruin the gift by complaining.” He looked at Jennifer, then started in surprise. “You’ve been weeping.” He glared at Miles. “Did you torment her?”

“The music moved her. We’ve decided now to go outside so I can tell her all your secrets.”

Jennifer watched as a muscle in Nicholas’s jaw twitched. “Is that so?” he asked.

“Shedding blood on the abbot’s front stoop would only worsen his opinion of you,” Miles said, sounding supremely unconcerned. “And I haven’t told her anything yet. Oh, I know. Why don’t you tell me which ones she should know and I’ll round them out a bit with all the details.”

“Secrets are only powerful when the one they concern cares if they’re told,” Nicholas said, through gritted teeth.

“Which is why telling yours will bother you so,” Miles said smoothly.

“Think you?” Nicholas asked in a very dangerous tone.

“Let’s reveal them and see, shall we?”

“Shut up, Miles.”

Miles rubbed his hands together. “I say we begin with the secret that you’re least willing to reveal. I wonder which one that might b—”

Nicholas drew his sword so quickly, it made a hissing sound.

Jennifer backed up quickly. She realized Montgomery and John were behind her only because she knocked them over and landed on top of them. She would have scrambled to her feet and run, but she had a hard time untangling herself from Nicholas’s youngest brothers.

Nicholas flung his cloak at her. “Hold that,” he growled.

Miles tossed her his cloak as well. “If you don’t mind,” he said politely. “And I think it best that you move. Now.”

She didn’t have to hear that twice. It wasn’t easy to get up and protect her sore hand at the same time, but she had incentive. She struggled to her feet, hauled Montgomery to his and left John to fend for himself. He seemed to realize the precar-iousness of his situation because he leaped up and ran after her. She stopped a safe distance away, clutched the cloaks in her arms, and watched with wide eyes as Nicholas tried to kill his next youngest brother.

“By the saints,” Montgomery said weakly, “I’ve never seen him in such a temper.”

“I daresay Nick wouldn’t be so irritated if he wasn’t at Seakirk,” John said. He smiled at Jennifer. “Not his favorite place, you know.” He rubbed his hands together. “Finally, now we’ll have some decent sport. Who will walk away unscathed, do you think?”

Jennifer could hardly believe her ears. She gaped at John, but he only shrugged sheepishly. She turned to Montgomery. “Why in the world would Miles do that?”

“Provoke him?” Montgomery asked. “Who knows? I think it bothers Miles to see Nick so dejected—”

“I am not dejected!” Nicholas bellowed from across the garden.

“Of course not,” Miles agreed. “And why would you be? After all, it doesn’t trouble you that you lost Anne to Robin.”

“Anne already loved Robin, which you know damn well I knew all along,” Nicholas snapped. “I was pushing Robin to make the decision he should have years before. I knew she did not love me as anything but a brother.”

“Ah, now speaking of being a brother,” Miles continued placidly, “what of Amanda? Let’s examine that, shall we?”

Montgomery and John backed away. Jennifer decided that they knew more than she did, so she backed up with them.

“I will not discuss that,” Nicholas said icily.

“You should. You should let it go and let your heart heal.”

“Who are you,” Nicholas spat, “my mother to give me such advice?”

“Nay, I am your brother and I love you just as much as she does.”

Nicholas took a vicious swipe at his brother. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded. “Why did you choose this moment to do this?”

Miles shrugged. “I thought I might seek sanctuary inside if you became too feisty.”

Nicholas attacked. Miles retaliated. Jennifer watched them in mute horror, then found herself surrounded by a handful of wide-eyed monks. Nicholas snarled curses at them and they scurried back inside.

Jennifer flinched each time their swords crossed, jumped a little each time Nicholas tried to stab his brother, and gasped at the horrible names Nicholas was calling Miles.

She shivered as well. It was one thing to watch a choreo-graphed sword fight in a movie. The swords weren’t sharp and the actors had practiced. Here there were no such safety nets. Nicholas’s sword was sharp and he wasn’t doing some pre-planned fake fight.

She was very, very glad she wasn’t in the hot seat, as it were.

Nicholas de Piaget in a temper was an impressive sight. He fought with a cold detachment that should have sent Miles running the other way with his tail between his legs. Maybe Miles was accustomed to it.

Jennifer doubted that she would ever become so.

Finally, Nicholas jammed his sword back into its sheath, turned to her, and glared at her with his chest heaving.

“Will you hear my secrets?” he demanded.

She wanted to say no, but she couldn’t manage anything but an inarticulate stammer.

“I loved my sister,” he snarled. “I loved her from the time we were small. And I am a bastard. There. There are all my secrets.”

And with that, he sent Miles another scathing look, then turned and strode back into the abbey.

Jennifer stood, holding his cloak, and wasn’t quite sure what to say. She looked at Miles.

“He forgot his cloak.” She paused. “He’ll be cold inside.”

“Do you think so?” Miles said, dragging his sleeve across his sweaty forehead, then resheathing his sword. “I daresay he’s furious enough to keep himself warm for quite some time.” He put his hand to his ear. “Listen. I can hear him bellowing from here.”

She handed him his cloak. “I don’t think that accomplished what you meant it to.” She paused. “And it was unkind.”

Miles looked at her briefly, then looked behind her. “Ah, here is a good friar to aid us. Might we have a meal while we await my brother? We’ll eat out in your garden, if you like.”

“As you will, my lord,” said the man. “A small meal.”

“I believe my brother is making a substantial contribution to your coffers,” Miles said pointedly.

“A large meal then,” the monk said with disgust, then he stomped off.

“Now that’s seen to,” Miles said, putting his arm around Jennifer’s shoulders, “let us find somewhere to sit and I will explain to you why I did what I did.”

Jennifer walked with him over to a bench. They sat down with John and Montgomery on the ground at their feet. Miles made small talk with his brothers, critiqued Nicholas’s swordplay, and gave no sign that he had been in a terrible fight not five minutes earlier. He waited until a tray of food had been deposited on the ground before them by a monk who departed as quickly as he’d come, then looked at her.

“Will you know it all?”

“I suppose I might as well, given all the trouble you went to for it.”

Miles had a long drink of wine, then set his cup aside. “I suppose to understand what drives Nicholas, you should understand a bit of our family history.”

Jennifer suppressed a smile. Those de Piagets and genealogy. And from the horse’s mouth, no less. This was certainly something she could share with Megan the next time she saw her.

“Go on,” she said with a smile. “I’m all ears for that at least.”

Miles nodded. “Without giving you details that Nicholas actually might prefer to give you himself, let me just say that through an unusual series of events in the past, my elder siblings have a unique parentage. Nicholas belongs to my father alone, my brother Robin belongs to both my father and mother, and my sister Amanda belongs to my mother alone.”

“So Nicholas and Amanda do not share the same blood.”

“Nay, they do not,” Miles agreed.

Well, it was one thing to be in love with your sister when you were related; it was another thing when you weren’t. “I see,” she said.

“So you do. Now, the rest of us, my sister Isabelle and I, and the little twins here, were born to my parents after they wed. Robin, Nicholas, and Amanda were adopted by my parents after their wedding. That doesn’t, however, change the fact that both Robin and Nicholas were born bastards.”

“I see.”

“It is also true that Nicholas and Amanda did love each other for years, which only I seemed to notice, but in the end, she wed with another.” He paused. “I suppose that it was nothing more than the love of a brother and sister for each other, but it was a deep love, for Amanda had been his most ardent champion for years. She wed a year ago.”

“Nay, Miles,” Montgomery said. “ ’Twas a year and then half a year again.”

“You have it aright,” Miles agreed. He looked at Jennifer. “Before that time, Nicholas was the most pleasant of us all. He is perfectly versed in all the courtly arts of love. He can sing and dance, speak many languages, and is cheerful and good-humored at all times.”

“So, what happened to make him—oh, never mind, Amanda married someone else.”

Miles nodded. “Aye.”

“And that led to Nicholas’s unhappiness?”

“That and my grandmother trying to find him a wife.” Miles paused. “The wenches have not been kind.”

“But why not?” she asked, surprised. “He seems like any woman’s dream.”

“Being a bastard is not necessarily an asset,” Miles said dryly.

“But you said being Artane’s son was enough.”

“For everyone else, perhaps, but not for Nick.” He looked off toward the abbey thoughtfully. “I had hoped that if I forced him to spew out his secrets, if he saw that a beautiful woman didn’t care about them ... well,” he said, turning back to her, “it was obviously an ill-conceived thought.” He paused. “Do you care about the condition of his birth?”

“I don’t,” she said quietly. “But I don’t think my opinion matters.”

Miles looked at her for a moment or two, then smiled faintly. “You never know. And you’ll also not know how delightful this repast is unless we eat it before the little lads finish it off. John, this meal is not all for you!”

Jennifer helped herself while she could and listened to the friendly bickering between Miles and his younger brothers. After what she’d just witnessed, it seemed very mild and very normal. She was also finding it very normal to be eating stuff that was just this side of Dickensian gruel, chatting with medieval nobility in a medieval monastery’s garden, and speculating about the future of a certain medieval lord.

She was just too damned adaptable, apparently.

“Well,” Miles said as they finished, “where to now, Mistress Jennifer?”

She took a deep breath. “I think I need to go north and a little west. There is ... um ... a field.”

“A field,” Miles said, sounding unconcerned. “As you will, then.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Nicholas?”

Miles smiled. “If you have any affection for me at all, then nay, we shouldn’t. I imagine he isn’t overly pleased with me.”

“You deserved it.”

“A brother’s love,” he said offhandedly. “Let us go. He’ll find us.”

“Will he?” she asked seriously. “Or will he go back to Wyckham?”

“Does it matter to you?”

She looked at the abbey before she could stop herself, then back at Miles. “I would like to thank him for his help.”

“He’ll follow. When his pride and his business here will let him.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Nick,” Montgomery put in. “He’s a marvelously skilled tracker. He can follow anything, if he wants to. He’ll find us.”

“I hope he takes his time and allows his fury to subside,” Miles said dryly. He looked at his younger brothers. “I almost made him lose his temper, didn’t I?”

“Almost,” John said seriously. “But not quite. I vow he twitched but a time or two. What say you, Montgomery?”

“He was mostly unmoved,” Montgomery offered.

“He didn’t look unmoved to me,” Jennifer said uneasily.

“Think you?” Miles asked. “For myself, I would just like, once in my life, to see him in a towering rage. His neck bulging unattractively. His eyes rolling back in his head. A bit of froth at his mouth.” He shook his head. “He’s too bloody pretty, even when he’s annoyed. Now, take me for example. When I am angry, I am quite a sight.”

Jennifer snorted. “You’re all terribly handsome and hopelessly charming. And I think you should just leave him alone.”

“I cannot. I miss the Nick I grew to manhood admiring. The man who calls himself my brother is far too gloomy and unhappy. And that has made me sentimental. Come, my lady, and let us be on our way. You’ll take Montgomery’s horse and we’ll discuss our destination as we ride.”

Jennifer took Nicholas’s cloak, folded it, and laid it over his saddle. She stroked his horse’s nose for good measure, then walked back over to her little company. She held the reins of Montgomery’s horse and started to put her foot in the stirrup when she chanced to look back at the abbey. Nicholas was coming out the door. He stopped when he saw her and simply stared.

She stared back.

She couldn’t help herself.

Nicholas cursed as he walked across the grass. He came to a stop in front of them and dragged his hand through his hair.

“This is going to be more complicated than I thought,” he said wearily. “Apparently Mark does have kin. The abbot told me of them himself.”

“No doubt,” Miles murmured.

Nicholas shot him a dark look. “I’m in no position to argue with him, am I? I’ll ride to the village, see if they exist, then see to them. ’Tis the very least I can do.”

“Do you want company?” Miles asked.

“Yours?” Nicholas said in disbelief. “Thank you, but I believe I’ve had enough of your company today.”

Miles only shrugged, apparently unoffended. “I had to offer.”

Nicholas gave him a look of fury before he took a deep breath, then turned to Jennifer. His expression was anything but furious.

She thought it might have been a little bleak.

“You’re on your way, then,” he said quietly.

She nodded. She didn’t bother to try to speak. It would have been impossible past the lump in her throat.

“A safe journey to you then,” he said. He took her left hand, bent low over it, then straightened. “Fare you well, lady.”

And with that, he strode over to his horse, swung up onto its back, and rode out the abbey gates. Jennifer stared after him until she couldn’t see him anymore. Actually, that didn’t take very long. Her tears were definitely getting in her way.

“Come, Jennifer,” Miles said softly. “We’ll away as well.”

She nodded and let him boost her up into the saddle.

She followed Miles out of the gates and turned north. She was grateful that he seemed content to let the horses meander for a bit; she was completely unequal to determining where Farris’s potato field might find itself. Perhaps in another hour or so, when she could see again and when her heart didn’t hurt so much.

She wished she’d thrown her arms around Nicholas and hugged him for an eternity. She wished she’d said anything to him.

She almost wished she could have stayed behind with him.

But that was impossible. She had to go home. She pulled John’s hood up around her face and let her tears fall unimpeded.

Yes, home was her only choice.