The hand on his chest shook him, almost bringing his facade crumbling down but he gave her a breezy look as if all was well and yeah, sure, why not the sheep? Of course. Then all of a sudden her hand was the only thing keeping him grounded as the name filtered into his consciousness. There was only one Christoph that he knew. It couldn't be the same guy, could it?
Not someone he came into frequent contact with but often enough. The son of Lord Leighton's horse breeder, he was a cocky cuss who thought he was hot stuff because he trained the elite stock of horses for the Lord of Ammon. From what he'd heard, he did good work but still, every time Phillipe had ever crossed paths with him, even with no words exchanged, the young groom couldn't let the moment pass without making Phillipe feel like something a horse had left on the path.
No wonder she was in a bad mood, then. Catching up to Ada, Phillipe spent the rest of the afternoon with her, sharing entertaining stories from the manor in Ammon, mostly things from the kitchens. They talked no more of her impending nuptials, nor about any plans to supersede the inevitable. Around 2, Phillipe had to go to get back before the gong. His Master was most likely out of the house for the afternoon but would no doubt be there at dinner and Phillipe would be expected for service. There was no comment on how beautiful she was, even though such words sizzled on his tongue in waiting. There was no teasing, flirtatious kiss on the cheek goodbye. He just informed her of his responsibilities, made vague promises about possibly seeing her the next day, and then he left, walking the 3-4 miles home.
He should have left it alone. He should have minded his own business, especially since Ada had all but told him to leave her alone. In that way, at least. As fond as he was of making them, Phillipe wasn't very good at sticking to his own plans. The name kept turning over in his head, the whole way home so by the time he got there, he'd made up his mind to just ask and see. So, straight away he headed for Lord Leighton's stables. Christoph Heleborne was there, talking casually to the stablehand, his usual shadow. Getting up the nerve to address the other young man, Phillipe approached the pair and subtly made his presence known.
"Oi, heard about your recent engagement," Phillipe said with a smile as Christoph turned towards him with a raised eyebrow. Wiping his sweaty hand on his trousers, Phillipe held it out for the other man to shake. "I just wanted to say, congratulations."
The stablehand snorted and Christoph gave him an amused look but shook his hand eventually, "Well, thank you. It's nice to know, even with all the times I've called you a horse's ass, you can still kiss it pretty well."
"Eh, water under the bridge," Phillipe murmured quickly, scratching at the back of his neck with an awkward finger. "So, I hear this lass is from Schafedorf? What's she like?"
Although he'd seemed to have his defenses up when Phillipe first approached, Christoph relaxed a little in talking of his fiance, sighing in a beleaguered way as he thought over his response. "Well, she's a red head, for one thing," he said in disappointed tones and the stablehand, whom Phillipe thought he remembered was named Stan, nodded his head and murmured in agreement.
"Sorry, what's that?" Phillipe asked shrugging in confusion. He actually loved Ada's fiery locks and the way it always added a glow to her face, whenever she let it hang loose. "What's the big deal?"
"Gingers don't have souls," Christoph answered matter of factly. "Plus, she's kind of ugly, pale faced, invisible eyebrows, and her face just covered with freckles. If any of our kids get them, they're going to live in the closet....little spotted freaks." All of that was a gross mischaracterization of Ada's gorgeous features and it actually made Phillipe pause, trying to remember what Ada's eyebrows looked like. Had Christoph even met her?
"Ah, that does sound ghastly," Phillipe murmured in uncertainty, wondering if Christoph would actually lock up his own children. "But she probably has a wonderful personality to make up for it, yeah?"
"I wish," Christoph shook his head with a grunt. "She's like an unbroken mare; everything I would never want in a horse: untamed, obstinate, unruly, disrespectful--"
"Why are you marrying her?!" It almost sounded like Phillipe was invested at first and he quickly covered it by laughing on the tail end of his words, even still, letting the incredulous question hang in the air between them.
"Father won't stop bugging me about it until I choose someone," Christoph conceded. "He says I'm getting too old, with my good looks, it looks questionable for me to remain single. I'd prefer it because there's no commitments to women, not really, but he also wants to ensure by the time he dies, I'll have an heir of my own already old enough and set in line to take over for me as well. It's an old person thing."
"Well, surely...you could find someone more suitable?" Phillipe asked cautiously. "I mean, if she's so hideous and awful...why not find a dame who's more docile or at least pretty?"
"Nah, I'm done being carted to farms and trotted in front of girls and told not to look at them too critically, even as I'm pressured to make a decision," suddenly it was becoming clearer why Ada was in such poor spirits. "She'll be fine. I'll tame her just like I would any mare that was untrained and didn't know her place. By the crack of a whip."
Both Christoph and Stan laughed about that, and Phillipe quickly plastered a raunchy smile on his own face and nodded obliquely, but all he could think was how he hoped Christoph didn't really use a whip on her. Then again, knowing Ada's surly personality, no doubt the groom would find it necessary in the absence of any love or respect for her. Troubled by these thoughts, Phillipe was shaken out of it by Christoph bringing him back to the conversation.
"It's a good thing the women have to take on the husband's name," he said with a smirk. "I'd hate to get stuck with 'Blanche.'" He cast his pretty blue eyes at Phillipe and asked, "Ever heard of her?"
"Um..." Phillipe pursed his lips and frowned with his eyebrows, shaking his head slowly. "Isn't that what you do to snap peas to get them soft?"
"You've been spending too much time in the kitchens," Stan said in amusement.
"Sorry, then, it's not ringing any bells," Phillipe shrugged.
"Really? She lives in Schafedorf," Christoph continued.
"Ah, then probably why I haven't heard it," Phillipe lied. "I don't go there very often." Except it was practically every single day.
"That's not what Muriel says," Christoph said softly, his face unreadable as he gave Phillipe a direct look. The head cook? What in the seven seas was that woman talking to Christoph for? "In fact, she says you visit Schafedorf quite frequently to see a shepherdess when you're supposed to be running errands or helping out. It makes you late. A lot. A pretty little red head that you seem to have a flame for."
Phillipe felt his guts sink through the floor past his feet as the color drained from his face and he stared at the other man. He contemplated for several awkward, silent moments, telling another lie but when he opened his mouth, it was to stammer, "We're just...we're just friends, mate."
"Not anymore you're not," Christoph said, standing at full height now and even giving Phillipe a good shove in the chest as he talked down to him. "She's mine and I'd really prefer her to be friends with people befitting her new station in life. After all, any friends of hers are friends of mine, and neither of us can afford to be seen hanging around with the likes of you. You'll bring her down when it is my job, as her fiance and soon her husband, to elevate her. So, why don't you take your congratulations and shove it up your arse. Mind your own business."
"Elevate her...? Like a prancing pony?" No! What the heck?! Why did he open his mouth?! The other man had been walking away! What was wrong with him?! The defiance melted from Phillipe as Christoph turned back to him with a stony glare, looking the shorter man up and down with an airy confidence. "I just meant...people aren't horses. You can't treat her like you say you're going to."
"People aren't horses?" Christoph said, trying out the phrase like it was the oddest thing he'd ever heard. "No, they're not. But some people," at this point, the groom grabbed ahold of Phillipe with enough strength to lift him off his feet, "Are horse's shit."
Phillipe flailed and hammered at the fists that held him, even as he was dragged through the stables and out the other side. He couldn't see behind him but he could smell it as they approached; the reason why the stables had seemed so clean today. And before he knew it, he was tossed backwards to land in a pile of horse manure, his buttocks sinking sickeningly into the putrid heap the stableboys had made. And it'd been sitting out in the sun all afternoon, so, it hadn't done him any favors in regards to smell.
Stan and Christoph laughed together to watch as Phillipe tried to lift himself up, only for his hands to sink in and keep him locked in the sitting position he was in. Finally, gagging and coughing, he rolled free, his eyes tearing in humiliation and pain over the horribly strong smell.
"Next time I see her," Christoph said arrogantly, "I'll give her your gentlemanly goodbyes." Then he and Stan walked away, leaving Phillipe there to collect himself enough to rush inside for the dinner gong.
Too bad he was covered in manure because right away, Muriel refused to let him serve, instead urging him to go upstairs and get washed up. It was extra humiliating because everyone in the staff room acted like he was an embarrassment, like he'd just decided to roll around in it for fun. Scrubbing himself with the hard soap and a thick bristled brush long after the water had gone cold, Phillipe decided he'd ignore Christoph's order. He didn't 'own' Ada yet and until it was official, Phillipe would enjoy what time he had left to be her friend.