Marion woke and looked at the bedside clock. It was only a little after
six o’clock in the morning. Still an hour before the alarm would
go off to wake her for her day at Teacher Training College.
She had been woken by voices in the room. She looked and saw Kristoph
talking on the videophone to his brother. She sat up and put her hand
on his shoulder as he sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in his silk
pyjamas, listening to what his brother was saying.
“What is wrong?” she asked. “Is your father ill again?”
“No,” he assured her. He looked at his brother. “I am
truly sorry, Remonte,” he told him. “I hope she changes her
mind before the baby is born. For your sake.”
“Thank you,” Remonte told him. They spoke for a little longer
and then Remonte said goodbye. Kristoph broke the connection and switched
off the screen.
“I am sorry we woke you,” he told Marion. “I really
should have taken the call in my study.”
“That’s all right,” she answered him. “But what’s
happened? Your brother looked upset.”
“Let’s not talk about it on an empty stomach,” he said.
“It’s early, but not so early that we can’t have breakfast.”
Marion’s idea of getting breakfast was to go down to the kitchen
in their dressing gowns to put the kettle on and throw some bread in the
toaster.
Kristoph’s idea of having breakfast meant them both
getting dressed and getting into the TARDIS and going to a beachfront
café in the south of France where coffee and hot croissants followed
by a ham and Swiss cheese omelette and more coffee were brought to their
outdoor table.
Marion liked Kristoph’s style. He never failed to
surprise her with little moments like this. But even the pleasant surroundings
and delicious breakfast didn’t make the news he had from home less
palatable.
“Idell has left Remonte” he told her at last as they sat in
the pleasant sunshine drinking their third pot of coffee.
“Left? But she’s having a baby. She can’t…”
Marion had read most of the books in the library by now. She knew how
much Gallifreyans valued their children. Especially sons. And Idell was
having a baby boy. Remonte’s son and heir. “Oh, he must be
upset.”
“She has gone back to her own family. They live on the Northern
continent, on the other side of the Red desert.”
“Why?”
Kristoph sighed. He wished he didn’t have to tell her. But this
was the life she had accepted when she became his fiancée. As embarrassing
as it was for him to talk about this scandalous situation brought upon
his family, she had a right to know.
“Because Remonte refused to press our father to make their son his
heir ahead of any children you and I might have.”
“Oh. You mean… it’s my fault.”
“No, it is NOT,” Kristoph assured her. “Idell is the
one who is in the wrong. She was probably in the wrong the day she married
my brother. She comes from a Newblood family. They tend to have wealth.
They are our industrialists and businessmen. Like the new rich of the
industrial revolution here in Britain. But they don’t have power.
Idell’s family wanted an Alliance with an Oldblood family for the
power and the prestige. Since my work meant that I was not home very much
there WAS a common belief that Remonte was going to be conferred as heir
in my place. Idell married my brother in that belief and it was too late
when she discovered it was not so. We have no mechanism of divorce. She
was married to a man who stood to inherit no title and no power other
than that he may earn for himself by his own efforts. Remonte is a clever
politician. He is sure to rise through the ranks and become a senior High
Councillor before long. That ought to be enough to satisfy any woman’s
ambition. But Idell wanted to be Lady de Lœngbærrow.”
“She should have married you, then?”
“I think not. A vain empty-headed, spiteful woman
like that!” He was thinking of the things she had said the night
of the dinner party. He knew Marion was, too. He smiled as he saw her
expression. He could see her thoughts clearly. He understood them very
well. “Go on,” he told her. “Say it.”
“It’s a wicked thought,” she answered. “I can’t…”
“Yes, you can,” he assured her. “Or if you won’t,
let me. You were thinking, if only for a moment, that Idell gone from
the family fold is one less thorn in your side. One less gossip saying
things about you behind your back. And it is true. There’s no reason
for you to be ashamed of saying it. I am sorry for my brother’s
grief. He loved her in his way, and he was looking forward to the birth
of the child. But I am not sorry to see the back of her. I think when
his sorrow eases he will be better off without her.”
“If there is no concept of divorce…” Marion began.
“He WILL always be married to her. She will be married to him. But
they will live separate lives. She may take back her family name and most
likely when the child is born it will have that name, not de Lœngbærrow.
The child will not suffer. Her family are wealthy enough. He will have
the same educational opportunities as he would have as a Lœngbærrow,
the same chances of advancement in our society. All the bitterness she
has created is for the sake of the title of heir to our House. That is
all.”
“I suppose you could let her have it? You could let your brother
inherit and let her BE Lady de Lœngbærrow? It’s… it’s
your choice, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Kristoph said. And he knew what Marion would say next.
“Then why not do that? We’re happy enough living here on Earth.
Professor and Mrs de Leon. I don’t NEED to be Lady de Lœngbærrow.
I have never had the slightest ambition of that kind.”
“Because you deserve to be my Lady.” Kristoph answered. “Because
it is MY right to choose to make you my Lady. And because the House of
Lœngbærrow is an honourable House,” Kristoph answered. “Lady
de Lœngbærrow will be a gracious woman with kindness in her heart,
not a cold hearted creature for whom ambition is the driving force.”
“You put me first in those criteria,” Marion noted.
“Yes.”
“Idell is born to it. She LOOKS like a Lady. Do you really think
I would be better than her?”
“A thousand times better. Don’t even think of it. You ARE
going to be my Lady and when we make our vows of Alliance none will doubt
that I made the right choice.”
“Idell will.”
“Idell will almost certainly not be invited. And that will be to
her cost. Because the people of power she wants to associate with WILL
be there. She has sealed her own doom socially.”
“I almost feel sorry for her. All that bitterness. There IS no need.”
“No,” Kristoph said. “There isn’t. But she brought
it on herself. And you, my love, need not waste a moment’s thought
on her.”
“I wish it wasn’t so complicated. If it was just you and me…
like it is now, when I AM just Mrs De Leon, it would be all right. But
there’s your parents to consider. Your brother, your sisters. This
idea of the primogeniture. And I still hate the idea that when we marry,
your mother and father are ‘pensioned off’.”
“They retire to the Dower House. Which, incidentally, is a beautifully
appointed house only a fraction smaller than the main house. I’m
not putting them in Sunny View rest home for the elderly. Only taking
the responsibility and the burden and allowing them to live out their
lives in peace. It is the tradition in our society. When the heir marries,
he becomes head of the family. Otherwise there would be several generations
all waiting to inherit. Besides, you’ll enjoy visiting my mother
in the Dower House. It is right by the river. I can just see you and Lily
and mother sitting there on a sunny afternoon drinking herbal tea and
telling stories about me.”
Marion smiled at the image.
“You make it sound so nice. But even if I AM going
to be your Lady, I’m not going to spend my whole time receiving
other Ladies for lunch and tea and dinner parties and going to their houses
to do the same. I shall make myself useful. Teaching at the school will
be so rewarding. Which reminds me…” She looked at her watch.
It told her the ‘real time’ that it ought to be if they hadn’t
taken a trip in the TARDIS. It was nearly half past eight. She should
have been on her way to Edgehill on the train by now. “I have a
lecture at ten,” she said.
“I will take you there in the TARDIS,” Kristoph promised.
“I think we’ll have a pleasant walk on the sea front first.”
“If I do that, I won’t want to go back to Edgehill and spend
all day in lectures and classrooms,” Marion said. “You’re
spoiling me.”
“There’s no point having a time and space ship if we can’t
use it for a romantic breakfast before work. I’ve got a morning
of the Modernist Novel with second year undergraduates.”
“Poor you,” she said. But she knew he loved the job that had
once been no more than a cover for his real work, but was now something
he did for the joy of it. And she enjoyed walking with him on the seafront
in the Riviera sunshine before they went back to the TARDIS and returned
to ‘real’ life in Liverpool.
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