Grantville Gazette Volume 24 Read online

  As soon as the last word past his lips he mentally kicked himself. You silly, silly fool. He was assuming way too much. He reached out to hold Christine's hands. They were cold. He kept hold of them while he stared into her eyes. "Christine. Can I call you Christine?" She nodded. "Christine, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

  There was a startled cry from Christine, then a quiet, almost whispered, "yes."

  Ronald swallowed. He knew he was close to screwing up. He released her hands and hurried over to his backpack where he extracted a small box before returning to place it in Christine's hands. "I was told that I should get a suitable betrothal gift. I hope you'll like this." He felt a bit guilty offering a girl a bunch of plastic combs instead of an engagement ring, but the woman in the store had insisted they were perfectly acceptable.

  Christine accepted the gift wrapped box tentatively, as if she was shocked by what was happening. Ronald wasn't at all surprised. He was a bit shocked himself. Things certainly weren't going as he'd planned.

  She carefully untied the ribbon, rolled it up and placed it in her apron pocket. Then she peeled away the colorful wrapping paper to reveal a fancy gold leaf embossed red cardboard box. "It's beautiful, thank you, Ronald."

  "Open the box, Christine." Ronald was shocked that a simple cardboard box could inspire such a reaction, but then, maybe Christine's life had been a bit short in gifts of any kind.

  Christine opened the box, and froze. She carefully touched each of the, in Ronald's opinion, gaudy plastic combs. "Oh, Ronald."

  "You need a mirror. Just a minute, I've got one in my pack." Ronald hurried over to his pack and found his portable shaving mirror. When he handed it to Christine, he could see the tears in her eyes.

  She turned to set the mirror on the mantle above the fire and started fiddling with her hair, leaving Ronald to stare at her back. It was a very nice back, and that neck… Ronald felt certain physical stirrings and clamped down hard on them.

  "How do they look?"

  Ronald realized Christine had finished doing her hair while his mind was wandering. "Nice." As soon as he said it he recognized it was a typical male cop-out phrase. "Really, they look pretty. You look pretty."

  Christine smiled tentatively and Ronald relaxed. He was betrothed. He reached out for her hands again. "I have to get back to work soon and as I don't think we can marry before I have to get back, will you be happy to wait until we get to Magdeburg before we marry?"

  Christine nodded.

  "Right. Well, when can you be ready to leave?"

  Christine pulled her hands free from Ronald and took a step back. "Leave?"

  "Well, yes. I work in Magdeburg. Surely it was understood that you'd have to live in Magdeburg if we marry?"

  "I'm sorry. Of course I knew we would have to move to Magdeburg. It's just…"

  Ronald regathered Christine's hands. "You're scared of leaving the safe world you know. Don't be scared. I'll look after you."

  Ronald was surprised by the sudden defenseless look on Christine's face and the tears that started falling. He drew her into his arms and Christine buried her face in his chest. He finally realized what it had been that had called out to him from those photographs back in Magdeburg. Need. Not just the need for someone to rescue her from poverty, or for someone to take some of the weight of responsibility for Claus and Ilsa from her shoulders. No, what Christine really needed was someone to care for and about her as a person in her own right. Ronald had never been needed before. The feeling of being needed by Christine was… just amazing. He felt so strongly that he was scared that he might be too demanding, too soon. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and mentally promised to let her set the pace of their relationship from now on.

  He didn't know how long they stood there, but eventually Christine pushed them apart so she could comfortably look up at him. "We'll need permission from my guardian, Herr Winkler, for me to marry, and I'll have to see my landlord, but there is nothing to keep us in Arendsee."

  Ronald reached inside his jacket for the envelope Katherine had given him and passed it over. "That's a couple of character references and a copy of my last tax return. Will there be any trouble getting permission for you to marry?"

  Christine passed the envelope back to Ronald. "Please keep it to show to Herr Winkler. I'm sure there will be no problem getting his permission to marry, but you'll have to talk to him yourself."

  "Sure. How about you lead me to your Herr Winkler and then you can go off and see whoever you have to see before you leave." Ronald pulled a drawstring purse from inside his jacket and passed it over. "Here, take this. It's likely to be a three day trip back to Magdeburg. Buy anything you and your brother and sister might need."

  Magdeburg

  The sun was breaking through for the first time in five days, just in time for their arrival in Magdeburg. Christine snuggled down with Ilsa in Ronald's sleeping bag and studied her betrothed as he stood at the railing with Claus. She was happy that Ronald and Claus got on so well. It was the one bright spot of the trip to Magdeburg. Ilsa had not traveled well. She'd tired quickly, walking mile after mile in the mud and Ronald had had to carry her most of the way. Then she had been sick on the ferry and Christine had spent the whole trip caring for her.

  She wished she'd been able to get to know Ronald better on the journey instead of spending all her time caring for Ilsa, especially as she was still getting over the shock that he was one of the up-timers. She'd realized he must be quite well off when she examined the contents of the purse he'd so casually given her so she could do a little shopping, but not that well off. Not up-timer rich. It had been Claus who had asked. He'd picked up on Ronald's fancy rain cape, the mirror, the sleeping bag, and the little things that Ronald just seemed to accept, like the plastic water bottle, the plastic bags that had kept everything dry in his pack, and the magnetic chess set he used to play with Claus.

  Christine could sort of understand why Ronald had kept it quiet. A rich man could never know if a woman would have married him if he wasn't rich. Sure she had only agreed to marry him because he could afford to provide for her family, but that was normal. No sensible couple married if there wasn't the money to support the household. Ronald was just better able to support a family than most men. What she didn't understand was why he wanted to marry her. Surely a rich up-timer could have his pick of women?

  A couple of days later

  Katherine waited for Ronald to have his first mouthful of the first mug of coffee for the day before popping her first question. "How are you enjoying the benefits of being betrothed?"

  "What benefits?"

  Katherine froze. Surely not. She studied Ronald closely. He wasn't blushing, which was a really bad sign. He nearly always blushed when she talked about sex. "You are aware that the three purposes of marriage are procreation of children, mutual support and companionship, and a remedy for lust?"

  "I know you, Katherine. You're asking are we having sex. Of course we aren't. We're not married yet."

  Katherine clamped down hard on her tongue. She really shouldn't give voice to her thoughts. Not to her boss. On the other hand, what could he do? He couldn't afford to fire her, he depended on her too much. "What kind of pea-brained inadequate jerk are you? You're in the seventeenth century now, not the twentieth. Being betrothed is almost as good as being married. That poor girl is probably curled up in her bed, crying her eyes out, wondering why you aren't interested in her. Any normal man would have already dragged her into his bed, but no, not you. You have to be noble and…"

  "Kathy, she's only seventeen."

  "Seventeen is old enough to marry and have children."

  "Yeah, well, that's another reason. Christine's spent the last five years being a mother to her baby sister. She should have some time without responsibility for a baby."

  "Ronald, there are ways of preventing conception."

  "Yeah, and the doctors back in Grantville have a name for couples that use them. They're calle
d parents."

  Katherine could see Ronald wasn't interested in a discussion on the merits of the various tried and true contraceptive techniques available to down-timers. Well, there were always the modern tried and true methods. "Magdeburg Rubber Products is making Beaubriand-Levesque Rubber Preventatives under license in their new factory."

  "Condoms? Why are they wasting precious rubber on condoms?"

  "I believe the military is one of their largest customers." Put that in your pipe and smoke it. "You can get some from the company store, and on your way home stop off at the store on the corner and buy her some chocolates and flowers. And make sure you get at least the one pound box of Dulcinea Special Collection Dark Chocolate. Nothing says you're sorry like fine chocolate."

  "You're saying Christine has been expecting to share my bed ever since we became betrothed?"

  "Well, of course she has. Now, get off with you. I don't want to see hide nor hair of you before tomorrow, and I want a full report."

  "What the hell? A full report? Not damned likely."

  Katherine grinned at the horrified look on Ronald's face. The poor dear was so horrified by her suggestion that he hadn't even realized he'd used expressions more suited to the shop floor in front of his executive assistant. "Well, just make sure something happens that you could have reported if you felt so inclined."

  ***

  Ronald pushed open the door of the penthouse and poked his head in. He couldn't see anybody. He left his boots by the door and leaving his gifts on the dining room table he headed for Christine's bedroom in case she was, as Katherine had suggested, curled up crying in her bed.

  She wasn't in her own room, so Ronald widened his search.

  He found her in Ilsa's room. She was curled up hugging a well-loved soft toy, a Brillo-the-ram that her father had bought for Ilsa just before his death. He walked over to the bed and gathered the sobbing girl in his arms and carried her into his bedroom. All the way there he could feel the tension in her body and her brilliant blue eyes staring at him.

  He lowered her to the bed and pulled the quilt over her. Then he climbed in alongside her, spooning his body around hers and putting his arms around her. Gradually the tension left her body.

  Next day

  Katherine studied the smiling faces of Ronald and his betrothed. It appeared that everything was on track for a satisfactory conclusion. Ronald was being very attentive to Christine, and she was responding well to the attention.

  She was everything Katherine could have hoped for. Young and healthy, the girl would occupy Ronald's time quite nicely. However, first things first. "Lutheran?" She directed the question at Christine.

  "Yes."

  "Right. Then we'll want to make an appointment to see Pastor Gerhardt about posting the banns. He's the current must-have Lutheran celebrant. "

  "Must-have celebrant? This is a marriage we're talking about, not some social event," Ronald said.

  "Ronald, remember who you are. Your wedding is a perfect time to repay your social debts and it'll be a marvelous business opportunity. Frau Roberts and I have already assembled a guest list for the wedding banquet." She turned to Christine. "Is there anybody you would like to invite?"

  "Just my mother's friend. She was a great help to us when Mama and then Papa died, but Margarethe could never afford to travel all the way to Magdeburg."

  "Nonsense. Ronald, tell your betrothed that if she wants her mother's friend at her wedding you'll happily pay for her to come."

  "She's right, Chrissy. It's your wedding day. If you want Margarethe there, just say so."

  Chrissy didn't say anything. She just reached out. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling his head down to hers.

  Katherine looked on with interest. Ronald's technique needed a little work, but he seemed to have the basics down pat. At least he wasn't fighting her off. "I'll see about the invitation after we've confirmed things with Pastor Gerhardt. Now, Christine, your first important appointment is for this afternoon."

  Ronald drew his mouth away from Christine's. "Appointment? What appointment?"

  "With the designer. You and your bride-to-be need new clothes to be married in," Katherine explained.

  "I don't need any new clothes. Why don't you take Chrissy shopping, Kathy, and I'll stay and get some work done."

  Katherine shook her head. "No, you need to be fitted for a new suit as well."

  "I'm not getting fitted for a blasted penguin suit."

  Katherine just smiled and led the happy couple out of the office.

  December

  The wedding banquet was being held in the Magdeburg Concrete Company cafeteria. It wasn't the biggest space available but it was properly heated. Something all the guests were happy to appreciate as sleet battered against the windows.

  Ronald's eyes locked onto Christine. With her white skin, a white wedding dress would have been wasted on her. Instead she and Katherine had settled on a dress of the finest merino wool in the same shade of blue as her eyes. The low scooped neckline left a lot of skin exposed, which was a perfect setting for Ronald's wedding gift, a truly magnificent lapis lazuli necklace that closely matched the color of her eyes.

  Right now she was talking to Otto Gericke and another Magdeburg socialite. A month ago she would have been terrified at the thought of talking to them. Fortunately, Lady Beth Haywood and the staff and senior students at Duchess Sofie's had taken her in hand over the last three weeks and now she was greeting guests as if she'd been born to it.

  ***

  Christine Niemandin verh. Chapman tried desperately not to wipe her sweaty palms on her pretty new dress. She'd never had to deal with such people as Otto Gericke and, and-oh dear, she'd already forgotten the other man's name-before. The staff and senior students at Duchess Sofie's had done what they could to help prepare her for dealing with such important personages, but three weeks just wasn't enough time.

  She rubbed her fingers over the wedding band Ronald had given her. Just touching it reassured her that she was really married, and that she and her brother and sister wouldn't go hungry again. She had promised herself that she would be a good wife, but she didn't know what Ronald wanted from her. Surely no single man would rent an apartment as big as the penthouse if he didn't intend to marry and have children. But he was still taking precautions against getting her with child. Maybe he hadn't expected to take on a ready-made family. Christine thought about that for a few seconds. That had to be it. Maybe he couldn't really afford more children yet. Of course she could suggest ways in which they could economize, such as moving to smaller, cheaper quarters. And she didn't really need lots of new clothes. But what about shoes? She glanced down at her feet. They were clad in a light pair of dancing pumps, but she'd also bought three pairs of real leather shoes and a pair of outdoors boots. It had been so good to have properly fitted footwear that she'd gone a little overboard. Maybe she'd overdone it. She'd have to ask Ronald's executive assistant what she thought.

  She glanced around. She could see Katherine standing to one side with her partner, Joachim Schnobel. She raised her hand and gave Katherine a little wave. Then her eyes found Ronald. They stared at each other for a moment. Ronald's face lit up and he started to walk toward her. Christine knew her duty. She set off to meet her new husband halfway.

  ***

  Katherine was quietly confident that her in-basket was safe from Ronald's depredations for the foreseeable future. He was enchanted with young Ilsa, basked happily in the hero worship of young Claus, and finally, he was quite clearly totally besotted with his child bride, and she with him. Yes, with his new responsibilities to occupy his time Ronald wasn't going to continue working in the office long after everyone else had gone home. Nor would he be coming in on Sundays to do a little work. Gone forever, she hoped, was the risk of Ronald initiating something when she wasn't around. Now, at last, nothing would happen in the office that she didn't know about.

  ***

  Venus and Mercury

  Wr
itten by Kirt Lee

  Madame's earthly affairs had long been largely in order, but this latest bout, lasting weeks, came at a bad time. Events in England had erupted. Her incapacity had tragic consequence for Thomas' dear nephew, Adam, who she loved as dearly as if he had been her own. She was now recovered sufficiently enough to give him her full attention. Given her condition-not to mention his-she dared no further delay. Perhaps the matter could yet be repaired.

  The sweet child now stood at the door. "Come closer, dear Adam, so Madame can see you." Adam did so. "But the years pass so quickly. You are no longer a boy. Such happy years they were."

  "Madame fares better?" English accent, with just a touch of Parisian.

  "For today, child. But Madame forgets her manners. There is wine. Will you pour for us both?"

  "Of course."

  "And if you would also, to mine please add a measure of the medicine that you will find in the drawer to the left."

  Adam opened the drawer and examined the medicine closely, tasting a bit. It was mercuric, and of high quality, the medicine of a syphilitic. Beside it, a spoon. "One of this measure, Madame?"

  "Yes, thank you." She watched him stir the medicine into her wine.

  "Madame finds the medicine more agreeable with wine?"

  "I am French, child. If I wished to take hemlock, I would mix it with wine."

  As he started to put the medicine back, she added, "Do take as much as you like for yourself, child. I'm sure you are at tight ends lately."

  He paused. "Madame?"

  "Wicked tongues delighted in bringing Madame this news."

  Adam knew word would get around soon enough. Still, he had hoped it would not happen quite so quickly. He would have spared his late Uncle's paramour this news. He gave her the cup, and sat without speaking.