Enchantress (8 page)

The women asked her about her
homeland, family, experiences. But they did so in a gentle manner,
not pushing her for answers. Whenever they found her reticent to
explain, they pried no further. They gave her a plate of good food,
a goblet of spiced wine, and told her all about themselves and how
they came to be there.

The first wife, Princesa— the small
woman with gold hair— even let her hold the baby.

Her first instinct was to politely
refuse, for she had never held one before. But the child cooed
contentedly in her arms and blinked up at her with large eyes as
blue as its mother's.

"See, he smiled at you," Princesa
exclaimed. "He likes you already."

But the child would not like her so
much if it knew of her plans for his wretched family, she thought.
Suddenly the babe made a grab for the bells around Jesamyn's wrist.
"No," she gasped, quickly pulling her hand away. Of course, the
bells had captured the baby's attention. She should have
thought...

Gently Princesa took the baby back
again, bouncing him on her hip to keep tears at bay.

There was another child too— a girl
born to the third wife, Isobel. But Jesamyn was glad not to be
asked to hold this one for it was fractious and cried
throughout.

"I am sorry," exclaimed, Isobel,
looking flustered. "She is teething, poor mite."

The women fussed over these babes as
if they were all mothers, but Jesamyn soon learned that second
wife, Aelfa, was frustrated by her failure to become pregnant. The
other women merrily assured her that she would soon know the joys
of motherhood and she never dropped her brave mask, holding the
other babes and singing to them, but Jesamyn read sadness lurking
inside the woman's heart.

Although Jesamyn had never thought of
herself as motherly and never wanted a babe, she knew that to some
women it was important. To Aelfa, clearly, it would be, especially
since the fourth and fifth wives, Jeanne and Cedney, were already
with child and that made her the odd one out.

"There are things you can do to help
it along," she found herself telling the stunning, curvaceous
red-head that morning. "I know of some herbal
potions..."

Oh, why did she involve herself?
Jesamyn blamed it on her pleasantly filled stomach and the spiced
wine. What did she care if this foolish woman ever had a child or
not? These women were d'Anzeray now and had been branded to prove
it. She should not feel any sympathy for them. She certainly should
not begin to like them.

But Aelfa's eyes were clear and bright
with hope as she smiled. "But I have already tried all my own
methods."

"Perhaps...it is simply not meant to
be. One must resolve oneself to fate." She would not help the
woman. There, it was decided. Jesamyn clasped her hands in her lap
and reminded herself, yet again, why she was there and what she
meant to do.

Aelfa crumpled a little beside her on
the bench, but it was very subtle. No one else seemed to take note.
They were all too busy with the babies. "I led a miserable life
once," Aelfa began quietly. "I was sold into my first marriage when
very young. My husband beat me every day and raped me without
mercy. I was treated this way because he knew my mother had been a
whore and he told me that my fate was to be the same." She kept her
eyes on her knees. "So you see, I have never been fond of fate or
the idea of a destiny." Now she looked up and smiled again. Tears
that briefly glistened amid her bronze lashes were quickly dried,
thrust back. "Sebastien d'Anzeray changed all that. He rescued me.
So, you see, I learned that there is no such thing as destiny that
cannot be altered, a path that cannot be turned." She leaned closer
and said earnestly, "That is why I cannot give up now. I cannot
give up on the idea of a child of my own."

It was interesting,
Jesamyn thought scornfully, that the d'Anzeray men believed
everything in this arrangement could be shared equally between them
— women and babies— without consequence. As Nino had said to her,
these brothers believed that "
sharing
keeps jealousy and possessiveness at bay".

But the women still
thought of the children they bore as their own. They could all love
a litter of brats and work together to raise them, but here was
Aelfa, afraid to cry because she had not physically given birth. It
was her right as a woman and yet it had been denied to her. She
wanted a child of her
own
, not to be perennial nursemaid
to the babes born by other wives.

So all was not equal, regardless of
the fantasy with which this little scheme had been wrought in the
questionable minds of men.

The brothers d'Anzeray had not taken
into account the strong bond between mother and child, or the very
nature of woman as more than a sexual breeding vessel. It was
typical, of course, that they would not consider the way a woman's
mind worked. In all probability they did not think these women had
minds.

Oh, their cozy little world had worked
well up until now, but it could not last.

Sharing is
good
. Ha! Only for the men in this
arrangement.

Aelfa refused to believe in fate,
because she could not bear to accept that she might be barren. None
of the other wives could fully comprehend her sadness, and Jesamyn
sensed Aelfa was grateful that they did not. To the childless wife
the concerned remarks of the fertile would smart and make her feel
inferior, someone to be pitied.

Jesamyn reached into her leather purse
and took out her Tarot cards. "There is a way to read your fortune,
Aelfa. I can tell you if there will ever be a child in your future
and then your mind will be at peace. One way or the
other."

The other woman hesitated, glancing at
the cards and then looking away again. "That is kind of you, but as
I said, I don't believe in destiny and fortunes. Anything can
change. Anything."

With a shrug and an extravagant sigh,
Jesamyn moved to put her cards away again, but, just as she'd known
it would, curiosity overcame the other wives and they insisted,
with great excitement, that she tell their fortunes.

* * * *

His father lay in bed, stretched out,
eyes closed. At first Nino thought he'd returned too late, but
hearing the boards creak, Guillaume opened his eyes and stared
through the grey morning light.

"Finally you came. They kept telling
me you'd gone out drinking and whoring again. With five wives at
home you still feel the need to use a whore, boy?"

Nino smiled, relieved to hear his
father's voice so strong and to see that his temper was much the
same as usual. "You had a wife, father, and you still used our
mother. At least seven times."

"That was different, boy." Guillaume
grunted and pushed himself into a more upright position against his
bolster. "I was seized in the powerful clutches of a wench who used
magic to keep me there. I couldn't stop fucking her. My balls were
bewitched."

He laughed and stepped closer to the
bed. "How are you, father? As soon as I arrived they told me you
had taken a turn for the worse."

The old man waved a hand through the
air. "I'm better now. A lot of fuss about naught. That's the
trouble with having all these women about now. They make mountains
out of molehills and treat a grown man like a child."

"Perhaps my return has improved your
health," Nino replied with a cocky wink. "You want to hear all
about my exploits no doubt. That will improve your spirits
further."

Guillaume's eyes narrowed and he
leaned his head back against the wall. He looked tired and drawn,
his face paler than usual. "Tell me about her then."

"Her?" He was shocked. Was it so plain
on his face?

"You brought a wench home with you. I
heard the news already, boy. Who is she? Is she rich? Does she
bring property with her?"

"I...don't think so."

His father groaned and rolled his
eyes. "Not another penniless hussy! What did I tell you idiots?
Find wives with rich fathers and land for a dowry. Instead you
bring me a collection of wenches, most of whom don't even have
shoes on their feet."

"But Isobel brought a fortune with
her, father," he pointed out, "and Cedney too."

"And does your wench have big titties
and broad hips for birthing at least?"

Until that moment he had not thought
of marrying Jesamyn. He'd imagined bringing her home simply to
entertain the family for a while, with no plan beyond that. Or so
he'd assured himself. Now, however, faced by his father's brusque
questioning, he realized he might like to marry her.
Perhaps.

He flinched. No, he was not certain
she would make a good addition to the other wives. She kept secrets
and had a stormy temperament. She seldom answered questions with a
straightforward reply. And there remained the matter of the three
men in the stable.

"Well, boy? Speak up!"

"I will let you see for yourself,
father," he replied carefully. "I haven't made my mind up
yet."

His father's graying brows rose high.
"So you bought her home for your brothers to try out,
eh?"

"I suppose I did."
Suddenly he wasn't sure why he'd brought her there. It was as if
his mind had been in a fog when he had her in his arms or she
had
her
arms
around him. Now, with distance between them he was able to think
with greater clarity and sense. Had he brought her there because of
the scars on her back? Because he was sure he'd met her before and
she was the little girl in the souk? Or had he brought her there
just because he enjoyed fucking her very much?

"Considerate of you to let your
brothers make the choice," his father remarked snidely. "What's the
matter with her? Not sure she can be handled? Don't think the pony
can be saddled?"

"She's very...unusual. And she keeps
secrets."

Guillaume nodded slowly, flint-gray
eyes narrowed. "I dreamed you were in danger, boy. It woke me from
my sleep like a shower of cold arrowheads pricking me all
over."

"Me? What danger?"

"I know not. But I was certain of it.
That is why I called for you."

"Well, I can look after myself,
father. My brothers may not believe it— and neither may this
quarrelsome wench I found— but I promise you I can."

Guillaume smirked. "Bring the girl up
to me. Now you've made me curious, boy. And at my age that's a
troubling thing indeed."

* * * *

She laid the cards out in the same
pattern on the table and turned over the center card.

The Empress.

"That is you exactly, Princesa,"
exclaimed little Jeanne, laughing. "I always said you carried
yourself like an empress!"

Jesamyn never liked laughter when she
gave a reading, so she looked sternly at those who seemed about to
laugh with Jeanne. "This card is the symbol of fertility," she
explained, "of beauty and femininity. But it can also signify a
woman dependent on others. A slave to her own fears of
inadequacy."

Princesa blushed, hugging her now
sleeping babe. "I was once a bond slave, the concubine of a wealthy
nobleman. I suppose those days remain with me even now. I am
submissive. It is in my nature."

And that was why these men liked her,
thought Jesamyn crossly.

She turned over the circle of cards
and read from right to left. All was love and joy, much to her
annoyance, just as it had been for the first two she read. Isobel's
significator card had been the lion of strength, symbolizing
courage and patience. Jeanne's had been the star — meaning hope,
spirituality, and renewal. There were no clouds looming in the
future of these women, nothing she could use to scare them into
rebellion.

By the time she came to the nine of
cups— success and harmony— Jesamyn felt sick to her
stomach.

"It seems your fortune is a rare one
too, Princesa. It is filled with happiness and contentment." But
then came the four of Swords. Aha! Finally. "But you must guard
against jealousy."

"Jealousy? Goodness, I do not know
when I—"

"No doubt it will come," Jesamyn
interrupted. "Five wives together must experience some
ill-feeling."

They all stared at her blankly, but
she got the sense that they would not admit it in any
case.

Now she moved on to Cedney, the most
recent acquisition to join the d'Anzeray harem. Her significator
was the sun— warmth, vitality, and fun. Her fortune contained the
promise of a prosperous marriage, many good friends and the king of
Wands, which told of a tall, strong, dark man, loyal, honest and
sincere.

"That is Dominigo, of course," said
Isobel, nudging Cedney, who smiled and turned a little
pink.

"He is one of the elder brothers,"
Aelfa explained in her ear. "Dom brought Cedney home and he adores
her."

Jesamyn gathered up her cards. "Do
these men not love you all equally? I thought that was the
arrangement."