This was Dominique’s favorite time of year; her garden in full bloom, vegetables ready to harvest and the sun gloriously warm on her body as she worked in her yard. She looked lovingly at the prayer corner she had created in her garden, the special place where she felt closer to her father. This garden held her salvation, where she meditated and prayed and felt whole and connected to God’s healing energy.
Lately, Dominique had felt lighter. The Abbot’s oppressive presence in their lives had diminished of late. Before he had insisted on being a part of Nicole’s education, but now, much to Dominique’s relief, he made excuses why he could not be near them. Though she did not trust him, she was not about to argue with this most welcome respite.
Today, her soul felt less burdened than it had in some time. Nicole’s health had improved and although her allergies and asthma prevented her from spending any time in Dominique’s garden, she seemed more confident and stronger overall. While Nicole’s behavior had been questionable since her accident, Dominique chose not to worry about her in this moment.
Lost in her thoughts and the meditative task of gardening, Dominique did not hear the echoed steps from the covered walkway at the beginning of the path alongside her cottage. Startled, she looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. Dominique’s attention turned towards the path on the other side of her fence which led to the Church at the top of the hill. Before her eyes could adjust to the sun, she heard a soft voice say, “I imagine that heaven must look very much like your garden does but there could be no more beautiful an angel in attendance there.” She blushed instantly and turned to face the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life.
His tousled dark, wavy hair framed his face, which was covered partially by a well-manicured beard. Despite the beard, she could see the gentle but muscular jaw-line. He gazed at Dominique with the kindest eyes she had ever had the pleasure to look into and they made her heart skip a beat. His blue uniform, and white scabbard sling across his chest, spoke to his position in the King’s Guard.
Dominique lowered her eyes, and hoped she did not appear too forward, she murmured, “Why, thank you, sir, my garden brings me much happiness but I’m afraid I should not be compared to an angel—you pay me far too high a compliment.” His boyish face seemed in contradiction to the soldier’s uniform with its glistening brass buttons. Dominique saw a strength and kindness in his eyes that was mesmerizing. She ventured, “Are you new to Loudun, sir, for I am sure I have not had the pleasure of an introduction.” She was feeling slightly more emboldened.
“Although born here in Loudun, I was raised and have spent the majority of my years in Amboise, in the service of the King. My father, however, has a home here and I try to visit him when my schedule permits.” Bowing slightly, he continued, “Forgive me, Mademoiselle, I am Henri Collier.” He bowed more sharply as he stated his name and his soft, dark curls fell sweetly around his forehead.
“I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, Monsieur Collier. I am Dominique Dubois.” As she introduced herself, she held her hand out, palm down. As Henri took it in his and brought it gently to his lips, she felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity, comfort and safety that she found impossible to reconcile. Her experience with men, with the regrettable exception of the Abbot, had been all but non-existent. She was completely at a loss to explain this sense of security that warmed her to her very soul.
“I am on my way to the Church cemetery, where, alas, my poor mother is buried. God rest her soul.” He genuflected respectfully at the mention of his mother. Having lost her father, Dominique could sympathize with Henri. She turned quickly and gathered a handful of black-eyed susans. Pressing the bunch into his hands, Dominique implored him, “Please, place these on her grave, Monsieur, although I have no doubt she is surrounded by much lovelier flowers in heaven.”
He thanked her for her kindness and tried to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye without Dominique noticing. “You are most kind. Would you permit me to call on you next time I am in Loudun?” She blushed again, hoping he would not notice and assured him she would welcome that visit.
Carrying the bouquet of flowers, Henri continued up the path to the Church cemetery towards the grave site of his mother. He was completely unaware of Sister Marguerite, the Carmelite nun, in the window overlooking the path, watching him wistfully, as he walked towards the Church.
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Could it be that finding your soul-mate was truly this easy? Dominique thought to herself over the ensuing months with Henri. He had found numerous reasons to be in Loudun and spend the time with her.
They strolled for hours, walking on bright, crisp, sunny days gathering herbs and plants for Dominique’s healing work. They walked by the river and talked about everything. Dominique bared her soul to this man, even telling him about Nicole’s birth and the shadow she found herself under that morning by the very river where they now sat together. Even the silent space between them felt comfortable and connected.
Dominique had never felt so safe with a man. She felt protected and secure in a way that was foreign to her. Over the years, men in town had made overtures but she spurned their attentions and concentrated on her work and Nicole. She had become so accustomed to being guarded, it was refreshing to just relax and be herself, knowing that Henri accepted her in her authenticity.
She found herself responding in a manner that was surprising. Having never seen herself as alluring or sensual, it was exciting to explore those feelings in the total safety of this relationship. Henri was gentle and loving, always making her feel as if she were the most beautiful woman on earth. In his arms, Dominique felt the world melt away leaving just the two of them in a transcendental embrace.
He was kind and protective towards Nicole as well, willing to be the father she did not have in her young life. Dominique was relieved and pleased to see Nicole opening up to him about feelings she had never shared with her mother. Dominique’s happiness was like a gift she would never have had the temerity to wish for.
Only two shadows threatened their continued bliss. Henri’s position in the King’s Guard unit meant that he was away much of the time. He was really only free to be in Loudun when the future King was safely ensconced at the Chateau d ’Amboise. Even though their time together had been short, Dominique found that each absence was harder than the last, leaving her feeling like a piece of her own soul was missing when he was gone.
The other obstacle was Henri’s father. Richard had been singularly focused on securing Henri’s position with the royal family, sending his son to Chateau d ‘Amboise to live and obtain an education. Henri was, in fact, considered a trusted member of the family, rising to the position of Captain of the King’s Guard at the young age of nineteen years. He had been brought up alongside King Francis I’s children, Marguerite and Henry. Henri now protected the future King Henry.
This new relationship with Dominique and ensuing talk of marriage did not sit well with Richard. He was not pleased with Henri’s choice of bride. Her background was far from pedigreed and she had given birth out of wedlock making her the lowest of the low in Richard’s eyes. Henri, however, was unmoved by his father’s resistance to Dominique.
For Dominique, these obstacles were inconsequential. She knew that she had found her soul-mate in Henri and with him they could face anything.
Despite objections from Richard, they were married at the end of that same year. Along with the excitement of discovering this new love, Dominique felt blessed by the timeless familiarity that came with the comfortable knowledge that you know another to the core of their being.
The wedding, held at the Chateau, was far more lavish than Dominique would have wanted. However, given her lower station in the social order, it was not lavish enough for her new father-in-law. Because of Henri’s close connection to the royal family, they had insisted on giving him the ceremony as a wedding gift.
Dominique’s dress was stunning, yet beautifully understated. The bodice cut down sharply towards the waist, where the skirt billowed out from hips and swirled around her body like a cloud. The neckline cut across her breasts, exposing just enough of her porcelain skin to remain modest. Her golden brown tresses were drawn up and away from her face, leaving a few tendrils of curls to fall out and spill onto her shoulders. Her rose-tinted cheeks glowed with peace and happiness. Henri cut a dashing figure in his dark blue winter uniform, the navy wool in contrast to the white satin of Dominique’s gown.
Any nervousness that Dominique felt disappeared when she saw Henri. For her, he was the only person in the room. When they danced, twirling together in this palatial space, the crowd melted into oblivion, leaving only two lovers locked in each other’s gaze. As the celebration was drawing to a close, Dominique looked across the room towards Henri as he spoke earnestly to one of their guests, the ballroom window framing them. Holding her breath for a moment, her heart soared at the sight of this man; her friend, her lover, her soul-mate—and now, her husband. She could not have been happier.
They headed home to their little cottage in Loudun a few days later. Richard had told them to expect his wedding gift to be there waiting for them having relented finally and granted his acceptance of their marriage.
Dominique opened the door first and, despite the meager light created by the moon, she knew instantly what the gift was. The armoire, her father had so lovingly finished on the last night of his life, awaited them in the sitting room of this tiny cottage. Dropping to her knees as if her legs could hold her no longer, Dominique cried out. “Mon Dieu, it is a miracle! It must have been your father who purchased this so many years ago.” Sobbing and unable to explain her strange reaction, all she could manage was, “my beloved father has seen to it from heaven that this magnificent expression of his love came home to me at last.”
When she was finally able, she explained that the armoire had been created by her beloved father. Dominique saw it as an opportunity to introduce her new husband to the only other man who had meant as much to her. “Oh, Henri, I wish you had known my father. He was the dearest person and, oh, he was so very talented. Here, let me show you the magic my father could create…” as she said this, Dominique reached under the armoire and pushed a series of points on the panels to reveal a secret compartment. As it popped open, two notes and a pouch of gold coins was revealed. The newlyweds exchanged surprised looks and reached for the larger note:
My Dearest Dominique,
I have known for some time that it was your father who created this masterpiece. I had no idea that it would find its way back to you in this manner, but it is just. I discovered this secret compartment only months ago. The sequence to open it came to me in a dream. I found the note within the space when I opened it. I want you to know that I am proud to have you as my daughter.
Love, Richard
The other note said simply, “I love you” and it was signed “Papa”.
A wave of love enveloped her and she understood the intricate ways in which God has made his presence known in her life. She knew in that moment that the rich tapestry of their lives was unfolding as it was destined and she need not fear the future. She could face anything with her beloved by her side.