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La Belle Christiane

2011 copyright by Lyn Cote

All rights reserved

BOOK TWO

Chapter Nine, Scene 5

The next two weeks rushed by. Christiane spent time  shrinking the load of French/English translation that she helped with, and generally tying up loose ends. At first, she did not tell anyone that she was planning to leave, but finally even the busy men noticed her preparations. General Washington was concerned about her safety. He wanted to be sure that she knew that she should come back only with proper escort. After her promise to this, he was satisfied, but he urged that she return soon. Martha would be wanting her when she came.     The night before she left, Christiane walked outside the big house. A mixture of anticipation and apprehension had made it impossible for her to settled down inside her quarters, so she took a walk in a nearby grove of red-leaved oak trees. The sun had just finished setting and a huge, golden harvest moon was rising. She clutched her shawl close around her in the crisp night air. At a distance she saw another figure coming toward her. From afar she recognized the man’s broad shoulders and long strides.

“Henry,” Christiane greeted him with a low gracious curtsey. Caution churned in her stomach. Her decision to leave still caused her worry.

“May I speak with you?” He asked as he bowed over her hand.

“Of course.”

There was a moment of hesitation. “I wish I were able to escort you to New Jersey, but my duties–”

Christiane cut in, “I understand. You are needed here.” In any event though it made her feel petty, Christiane still wanted to keep her two classes of friends separate. The gulf between the Mains and the Lees was vast.  She pushed this problem aside. I can’t help that. The world is as it is. I can’t change that.

“Christiane, I wish to take this opportunity to discuss a personal matter with you, if I may,” he said formally.

She nodded, suddenly apprehensive. What do you want, Henry?

“The brevity of our acquaintance and your recent widowhood have prevented me from speaking–” His words sounded as though he had practiced them carefully before coming.

Suddenly Christiane guessed his intention. And it terrified her. “Henry, please I–”

“Christiane,” he interrupted “you leave in the morning. Please, I implore you, let me speak.”

Christiane agreed reluctantly. She did not wish to hear his declaration of love now, but it sounded as though he had prepared one. And she did not wish to hurt his feelings.

“Christiane, I do not think my feeling for you has been completely concealed.” He took her hand in his. “Your loveliness attracted me from that very first day I saw you at Morristown. But you are more, so much more than just a lovely face and form. I admire your honesty, your ability to deal with life without complaint, and to bear up under incredible responsibilities.”

Christiane writhed inside. She knew she wasn’t as noble as he perceived her. “Henry, I–”

“Please don’t stop me. Christiane, I love you. If these were normal times, I would never declare my love for you after such a short friendship. But I love you. If it were not for the conflict that we are presently a part of, I would not hesitate to propose an immediate marriage. But I know you will understand that my present duties and devotion to the cause of liberty preclude this. However, this war will not last forever. And when our cause triumphs and peace returns, I would like to look forward to spending that peace with you. Will you, Christiane? Will you consider my proposal?”

His proposal was elegant and sincere. But Christiane’s mind raced in a panic at the word “marriage.” However, his flowery proposal included a clause of postponement. Then the thought came to her. She could have exactly what she wanted her son and a secure future now, not later. “My son–” she started.

“I have already considered him, the orphan of a fallen patriot,” Henry said readily. “When we are married, he would be an equal heir with our children.”

Christiane looked up at the sky, pondering. His proposal was more than generous. Deep emotion stirred but she couldn’t face any more images from the past. To stem the tide, she took action. “Then I accept your proposal,” she said coolly.

Not noticing her tone, he responded happily, “Oh, Christiane, I thank you. I will spend my life trying to make you glad of this decision.” He paused. “May I kiss you?”

“Certainly.” Christiane moved closer. He embraced her and several minutes passed before she withdrew from him.

“Christiane, I have a token of my love for you.” He pulled a small box from his pocket. “I purchased this in Philadelphia in hopes that you would sometime accept it.”

Christiane took the small box and opened it. The moon and stars revealed a gold ring with a pearl, surrounded by garnets, delicate and lovely. Jakob’s face in her memory scolded her. She turned away from it. “Henry, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“The garnets reminded me of the warmth of your hair,” he murmured, cupping her cheek. “You accept this ring and my suit?”

“Yes, Henry, I will,” she answered precisely. I will not think of the past. I will live now and do what I must for Jean Claude, for me. I cannot lose my place in this world again.

Christiane may be making a mistake here. Are heroines allowed to make mistakes or should they always see clearly and do only what is good for themselves and others? And what do you think could help her see more clearly?

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