Lady Therese De Beauharnais of Roche

10 October, Year 32 of King Frederick V of Monrique's reign

Bordeux Castle, Bordeux

Monrique

"Let the will-o-the-wisps,

come dancing in twilight.

Drawn to the melody

Of the evening breeze, they

touch, and they tickle, and they

twirl once to the left, and

once more to the right.

Let them join us in

this beautiful twilight

and we will be happy

together tonight and

through all the nights to come.

I sang Tommy to sleep, gently rubbing his back in soothing circles, as I rocked him in my arms, and walked up and down the corridor outside my chambers. He had not been able to bear the stench of alcohol that Rochelle had left behind in my chambers, and neither had I. The air out in the corridors was biting cold, but was much fresher.

Slowly, but surely, his breathing evened, and a small smile crept unconsciously up his lips, the nightmare of our reality forgotten in his deep slumber.

I wished I could do the same.

I closed my eyes, attempting to make sense of the many emotions coursing through me. I was simply furious with Rochelle, but it was not the anger that overwhelmed my mind, but rather, the pain. The pain I had seen in Tommy's eyes at that moment when his mother had yelled all those horrible things at him.

I could relate to it. I had felt it, drowned in it, when I had been even younger than he was.

Trembling slightly, I cradled the child closer to me. I would not wish my childhood even on my enemies, let alone on this sweet child.

At that very moment, I heard a thunder of footsteps from the stairway behind me, growing louder and louder with each passing moment. I turned around sharply to see who was coming to my chambers at this time of the night, and as I did so, I collided against something.

Hard.

A soft gasp left my lips. I was about to fall face first on the cold ground, when a strong arm slipped around my waist swiftly and held me up. Almost on instinct, I held Tommy tighter against myself, as I was pressed up flush against someone's chest.

My head tipped back on impact, to gaze straight into a familiar pair of baby blue eyes.

His face was so close to me, so close, that I could count every one of his familiar, thick, long lashes that framed his almond-shaped eyes. I could see the slight stubble on his sharp, tapered jaws, and feel the warm breath that left his lush red lips on my own. He was so close, that I could reach out and run my hand through the soft, wholly abundant honey-blond locks that graced his head if I wanted to.

But I did not.

It was a losing battle to regain my composure. I was only all too aware of his arm around my waist, of his hard, muscled torso I was pressed against, of his rapid heartbeat under my hands that rested on his chest, of his beautiful, baby blue irises that held mine firmly captive.

Lord.

Blood pounded in my ears. All air left my lungs, all colour drained from my cheeks, and for that one rare moment in my four and twenty years of life, I was absolutely, and completely, taken aback.

For once, not because being held made me uncomfortable, but because of who the man holding me was.

"Tess?" Lord Testalt murmured uncertainly.

I could not find my voice.

"Tess! Tess! Are you all right?"

The spell was immediately broken by Liv's shrill voice behind him. We quickly jumped apart, looking away from each other, as she reached my side in frantic worry, followed closely behind by his betrothed, Evie.

"Hush, Liv," I admonished her, placing a finger on my lips, "the child is sleeping."

Lord Testalt stepped forward towards me again at that, and reached out to feel Tommy's forehead for any signs of illnesses, and his extremities for injuries. When he was certain he was physically well, he glanced at me.

"Lady Therese," he addressed me urgently, "did Sister-mine come here?"

The mention of Rochelle snapped me out of whatever daze I had been in. "Aye."

"Where is she?"

"No idea," my voice was ice cold, "and I do not have it in me to give a damn about wherever she might be rotting at the moment."

His temper flared. "Careful, my Lady. That is my sister you are speaking of – "

"Sister? She is a demoness. I hope Satan takes her back to hell, where she belongs," I hissed, "intoxication is no excuse for what she has done today." My voice broke on the last word, despite myself.

He paused whatever he was about to say, his forehead creasing.

"Ned," Evie laid a hand on his arm, reproachful, "this is not the time to argue."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and released a huff, nodding. "You are right. Could you please help me find Sister-mine?" he requested her, "and make sure she stays in her chambers until I return?"

"I can do that," Evie agreed, "Liv, will you accompany me?"

A long silence reigned, as Liv hesitated.

"I will be all right. Please go with Lady Evangeline," I assured her, "Rochelle is in a violent mood, and two against her will be better than one if you find her."

Liv nodded, biting her lip. "Take care, Tess," she whispered, before she and Evie turned around, hurried down the stairways.

When they were out of sight, I turned to Lord Testalt, who was observing me.

"You had best join the search, too, my Lord," I suggested sardonically, "I am in no mood to entertain visitors tonight, least of all you. Have a good evening." I was about to walk away when his voice stopped me short.

"Are you all right?"

I shifted Tommy to my other hip, and turned around to face him, surprised by the hint of kindness, however begrudging, in his voice.

"That is irrelevant," I answered quietly, "but Tommy is not all right, and that is the only issue that I am concerned with."

Lord Testalt's gaze fell on his nephew at that, and for the first time that evening, he noticed the dried tear tracks on the child's cheeks, and the wet handkerchief he clung to even in his sleep.

His eyes widened, and begun to brim with worry. "Has he cried himself to sleep?" he whispered in dismay, looking up at me, "what happened here tonight, my Lady?"

I remained silent.

He frowned at me. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"Would you believe me, my Lord?" I raised an eyebrow, "it will be a complete waste of my time and yours if I were to tell you everything, only for you to deem it a lie. Are you ready to listen to me without jumping on my throat after every sentence?"

It was his turn to avoid my gaze and keep his silence.

I had expected him to, but it hurt all the same. "That is what I thought, my Lord," I poured as much disdain into my voice as I could, and turned away.

"Well, you can hardly expect me to believe you at your word after everything you have done," he snapped defensively, "contrary to what you may think, I do not enjoy being backstabbed on a regular basis."

"And contrary to what you may think, I have better things to do than making your life a misery – or playing with your nephew's life, for that matter," my voice was layered with frost, "if Liv and I had not reached him in time today, Tommy would have frozen to death."

He was stunned. "What?"

I looked away from him, sickened. The image of the little boy lying there on that heap of snow was still fresh on my mind, and it shook me to the very core. Subconsciously, my arms tightened around Tommy's sleeping form.

In the meanwhile, Lord Testalt raised his eyes to the heavens above, and closed them for a long time, almost as if he were praying for guidance. Eventually, he released a ragged breath through his lips, and faced me once more.

"Nothing is more important to me than Tommy's well-being, my Lady," his voice was quiet, "and despite everything you have put me through in the past, I cannot deny that my nephew adores you, and that you genuinely care for him."

Is that so? I wanted to snap, but I wisely refrained.

"Therefore, I will try to listen to you without doubting your every word," he gave in reluctantly, "could we speak inside?" He gestured to my chambers.

I tilted my head at him, deliberating. Truth be told, I had not expected him to agree to a civil conversation after all that had gone down between us. He must truly love his nephew.

"All right," I inclined my head, "come in."

***

When I finished telling him everything, his baby blue eyes were almost popping out of their sockets with horror, as his nephew slept on peacefully on my bed next to him.

I pointed to the wall behind me, where the stain of the whiskey stayed no matter how many times I had rubbed at it later.

"There," I cleared my throat, "that is where Rochelle had hurled her bottle at Tommy, and missed. That stain will never come off. And just like that, he is always going to remember that his mother did not love him and did not want him."

My own words triggered a memory from many years ago.

"Good morning, Mama!" I skipped into her chamber happily the day after Clara was born, "may I hold the baby?" I tried to peek at the new born inside the cradle next to her.

My mother sat up on her bed, her beautiful features morphing into one of greatest hatred when she set her eyes upon me.

"Have you come to mock me like all the others?" she screeched, "go away!"

I faltered in my skip, blinking up at her in confusion. "Mama?"

"I have given birth to another useless girl, just like you," she hissed, her eyes shooting daggers at me, "I should have known. Nothing good ever happens while you are here."

I did not fully understand the words she spoke, but I sensed the cruelty behind them. "Mama..." I felt my vision blur with tears.

"You already make my life a misery, and now a sister has come to join you," she spat out at me, "I did not want you, and I did not want her. Yet, here you both are, alive and thriving."

The tears continued to fall.

"You want to hold the baby? Here, take her," she reached into the cradle, lifted the sleeping new born and all but threw her into my arms, "take her, and go away! I do not want to see you in my life ever again!"

I could hardly balance. My chubby little legs began to move back towards the door out of their own accord, frightened, and I ran out of there with my baby sister as quickly as I could back to my own chambers.

And I curled into a corner, cried my eyes out, as loud as the innocent, howling infant in my arms.

I shook my head clear. The past had to remain in the past.

For a long while, complete silence reigned in my chambers. Lord Testalt's countenance was ashen, and in the span of a few minutes I had narrated everything, he seemed to have aged a thousand years. He traced the tear tracks on Tommy's cheeks, in deep thought, attempting to digest it all.

But there was no shock on his face. Only the deepest sadness. At that moment, I knew not how, but I knew.

"You expected this, my Lord," I observed quietly.

He looked up at me at that, his baby blue eyes filled with pain.

"Did I expect that she would try to leave him to die in the village? Or that she would return home intoxicated and say such things to him? Of course not," he released a ragged breath, "but I should have."

"Explain."

He hesitated for a moment, before plunging on. "I am certain you know Sister-mine had never been short on admirers, even before she first debuted into society," he began tiredly, "she was once everything society expects of a noblewoman - rich, beautiful and docile. One of her more ardent suitors was Lord Giles Delaborde, the younger brother of the Earl of Alençon."

His eyes grew stormy. "He was determined to have her. He followed her everywhere, sent her flowers almost every other day, wrote her pages and pages of poetry - all the while pestering her to marry him," his lips thinned, "but she did not like him. She sent him back all the flowers and poetry, and flat out refused his advances. Unable to handle her rejection, he kidnapped her on her way back to Testalt from Bordeux, held her hostage, and raped her. Her companions who had travelled with her were raped as well - and murdered."

"In the meanwhile, no one knew what had happened. My parents were frantic with worry. Your Papa, Kat's and Evoric's fathers helped them to lead the search for her as discreetly as possible," he began to tremble, "but even with their help, it took a little over a month to find her and Giles at a makeshift cabin in Roche Woods. She was...she was at the brink of death, severely injured from everything he did to her, and malnourished." His voice faltered.

I froze where I sat, horrified. I was aware that Lord Giles had been an absolute knave when he lived, and I had never been able to understand what made Rochelle marry him. However, I had no idea that he was capable of such cruelty and violence.

"I was in Osterlund when all of this happened," he clenched his hands, "or else I would have dragged the bastard to the Court of the Lady Justice and seen him hung the moment I got my hands on him. However, my parents saw fit instead to marry Sister-mine off to the very man who had defiled her, simply to prevent scandal and save our family reputation." He scowled at the memory.

I bit my lip. "And I suppose Tommy was conceived out of that nightmare."

"It destroyed her," he reflected, his countenance deathly white, "she used to drown herself in alcohol every day to forget what had happened to her, and tried many a time to end her pregnancy. It did not work. A few months into their marriage, drunk and delirious, she got into a fight with Giles. He tried to restrain her, but she somehow got her hands on a dagger, and stabbed him."

I knew it was wrong to think ill of the dead, but by God, Lord Giles deserved it for what he had done to her.

"The elderly Earl of Alençon had no children, and for the sake of the heir that Sister-mine was carrying, he decided to hush up the matter, and staged Giles's death to look like a tragic accident," he explained, "and in due time, she gave birth to Tommy. The Earl made her promise him and our family that she would stop drinking for Tommy's sake, and supported them both in Alençon. Within a year of his birth – "

" - the Earl died of old age, and Tommy inherited Alençon, for whom you were named regent," I finished for him, "I know, my Lord. Alençon is one of the earldoms in Roche."

"Aye," he sighed, "the moment the Earl died, however, Sister-mine handed Tommy over to my parents to raise. She wanted nothing to do with him. To her, his very existence is a daily reminder of what she endured at Giles' hands. She only brings Tommy along with her when she comes to Bordeux."

"To maintain her façade of a happy family in society, I presume."

"Aye, my Lady," he gazed at Tommy, before continuing, "but I assumed she had stopped drinking all those years ago, like she promised. That she took proper care of Tommy at least for those few weeks she spends in Bordeux with him every year. It seems I was wrong on both counts." He released a pained sigh.

I remained silent, watching him.

He looked up at me. "Hesitation does not become you, my Lady," he remarked quietly, "go ahead and say what you wish to."

I took a deep, steadying breath. "No one can ever truly claim to understand what Rochelle has been through, unless they have experienced it themselves," I whispered, "they can sympathise, but it is nigh impossible to empathise."

Years' worth of nightmares flashed before my eyes in that moment, and they almost darkened my vision.

"It is far and beyond the understanding of a five-year-old," I clasped my hands together, so that they would cease trembling, "he will not understand why his mother is so cold to him, but he will think it is his fault. He will blame himself for something that is not in his control. He will grow up feeling unwanted and unloved - "

He listened to me intently, and for the first time in two years, without judgement. However, I checked myself before I became too emotional.

"You may do what you will next, my Lord, but I will not send Tommy with her, even after she has become sober," I cleared my throat, "Alençon is a part of my dukedom, and I will be more than happy to raise and care for him in my household until he comes of age to rule himself."

"You would?" he sounded surprised.

"I do not care a whit about what society would think, if that is your concern – "

"Nay, my Lady, I did not mean that," he hurried to explain, "it is only...I have a similar proposition. I was merely surprised that you had already thought of it."

I was now curious. "Yes?"

"Evie and I spoke to my parents before our betrothal, and we have decided to formally adopt Tommy after our wedding. That way, my parents can fully focus on helping Rochelle recover, and taking care of her," he informed me, gazing at me seriously, "and just until then, will you help us take care of Tommy like you have been doing thus far?"

I went still. This was excellent news. More than I had hoped for, truth be told.

I was well able to vouch for Lord Testalt's golden character from all the years I had been friends with him, and Evie seemed a kind soul as well. They would raise Tommy well together, I had no doubt, and he would be safe and happy in their household.

Yet, my eyes stung with painful tears at the beautiful portrait he painted. Ned, Evie, and Tommy. One happy, complete family.

And I would always, always be the outsider looking in, wishing that I had what they had.

"Tessie?"

Tommy stirred at that moment, interrupting my thoughts. He rubbed at his eyes as he slowly rolled over to face me, bleary-eyed and his eyelids still heavy with sleep.

Swiftly composing myself, I sat down on the bed next to him. "I am sorry. Did we wake you?"

He reached up to pat my cheek. "Nay, you did not. I woke up on my own," he yawned, "do not be sad."

"I am not sad."

"Yes, you are. Your eyes look cloudy, like a thunderstorm," he pushed himself up to a sitting position to face me, frowning, "why? Is it because Mama called you a witch today?"

Behind him, Lord Testalt's eyes grew round.

Tommy reached out towards me, and I carried him into my arms. "Do not be sad, Tessie," he told me anxiously, "you are an angel, not a witch. Mama must be confused." He hugged me.

"Your Mama has called me worse. But I promise you, I am not upset about it, mon ange," I assured him, "but are you?" I tilted my head to get a better look at his countenance.

His eyes were beginning to well up. "A little bit, yes."

"May I know why?" Lord Testalt asked quietly.

Hearing his uncle's voice, he quickly turned around in my arms to face him, his lower lip quivering. "Oncle Ned..."

For an answer, Lord Testalt kicked off his shoes, and sat cross-legged on the bed. He scooted closer to us, and leaned forward to gently cup his nephew's small face in his hands.

"Tell me, son," he murmured, his baritone calming and steady, "why are you sad?"

"I made Mama very angry today, Oncle Ned. I did not mean to, but I did," Tommy whispered, "and she made Tessie sad. That means I made Tessie sad. Now I am sad."

"Thomas," my voice was soft, "you are not responsible for your Mama's anger, and you did not upset me in any way. In truth, it is your Mama who has angered me – for hurting you thus."

"Nay, I am not hurt, Tessie," Tommy shook his head, blinking away the tears in his eyes, "I am a big boy. Big boys are strong. Big boys do not get hurt."

I frowned. Who taught him such nonsense?

"That is not true. Big boys do get hurt, just like everyone else," Lord Testalt answered him quietly, "and what more, they are strong enough to admit it when they do."

The child stared at him. "They do?"

"They do. For instance, I am hurt, and I am upset at how your Mama has been treating you," there was a palpable tremor in his voice, "she is not feeling well, son. She did not mean...she did not mean any of the things that she said."

Tommy's eyes brimmed with tears again. "It hurts. Here," he whispered, pointing to his chest, "she said no one...no one wants me."

The whole room plunged into deathly silence at that, and Lord, I felt the pain laced in his words as acutely as my own. When Lord Testalt looked up at me, his baby blue eyes were glistening like shards of glass.

"Well, she is a liar. Her words mean nothing," I stated fiercely, "I love you, your uncle loves you, your grandparents love you, and so do all of our friends and yours. You are very special to us, mon ange, and none of us can ever imagine a life without you."

"I am?" the child sounded so uncertain in that moment, that it broke my heart.

"Of course you are," Lord Testalt assured him softly, "how could you not be? You are my favourite nephew."

Tommy blinked. "But Oncle Ned, I am your only nephew."

"Even then," he bent down to kiss his forehead, "I want you to remember, that as long as everyone you love is here with you, you will never be alone, son. You are so, very loved, and we will always, always want you."

For an answer, Tommy reached for one of my hands and Lord Testalt's, pressed a kiss to them and hugged them tightly, closing his eyes. The both of us cradled the child between us, and it was thus that we promised him that we loved him, over and over again, until he slowly fell asleep again in our arms.

***

A/N: This is who I imagine Ned as, but as always, you can picture whoever you want :)