by Alexa Aston
Raynor shuddered to think of the condition he would find Ashcroft in once daylight broke.
*
Raynor left his chamber long before the sun rose and decided to start with Father Benedict. The old priest slept little at his advanced age, so Raynor ventured to the Ashcroft chapel and found the priest at prayers. He waited until Father Benedict finished and rose to his feet.
“Father?”
The large man turned and his face lit with a smile. “Raynor. ’Tis good to see you, my son. I hope you will grace us with your presence for a little while, for I have missed our talks.”
He got straight to the point. “I have learned that Peter has been remiss in his duties as baron.”
The man of God shrugged. “Remiss . . . is a kind word. I would say negligent. The keep is filthy and the harvest has barely been started. Half the soldiers have moved on to other liege lords, leaving Ashcroft vulnerable to attack. And Lord Peter doesn’t notice what goes on or has decided he doesn’t care enough to remedy matters.”
“It’s the latter, Father. Peter has given me permission to step in and do whatever I see fit. He seems to have washed his hands of any affairs that deal with Ashcroft.”
Tears welled in the old man’s blue eyes. “Thank the Christ!” he whispered, closing his eyes, his lips moving silently in prayer. Raynor assumed the old man gave praise to God for providing a remedy to a dark situation.
Father Benedict opened his eyes. “What will you do first, my son?”
“’Twill be what you do first, Father. On my way home from Kinwick yesterday, I came upon a traveling noblewoman. Highwaymen had killed her servant and left her with nothing but the clothes on her back. I placed her under my protection and brought her trusted servant’s body here to Ashcroft. I would ask that you offer a burial mass for Tolly today and see that he’s placed in the ground.”
“Of course. I’ll excuse two of the men from mass so that they can dig the grave.” He snorted. “Not that I have many to choose from.”
“What do you mean?” asked Raynor, puzzled by such an odd remark.
The old man shook his head in sorrow. “Less than half of Ashcroft’s people attend morning mass with any regularity.”
Anger surged through Raynor. His parents had always expected their servants and serfs to attend mass before they broke their fast. His father believed that starting the day in God’s good graces would mean He would be bountiful in return.
“Another thing I will see to, Father. I give you my promise that Ashcroft will no longer succumb to laziness and apostasy. The people need direction and leadership, and I plan to provide it.”
The priest took hold of Raynor’s forearms, his grip surprisingly strong for a man of his advanced age. “It’s good to have you back, Raynor Le Roux. You are the answer to my prayers.”
Leaving the chapel, Raynor walked through both baileys before he returned to the keep and noticed many things had been neglected. It shamed him to see what had become of his boyhood home. He would ride through the estate lands today and get an idea of where everything stood beyond the walls of the castle.
Mounting the stairs, he proceeded to the chamber Lady Beatrice had been placed in last night and rapped lightly on the door.
*
Beatrice had been up for a few hours. She had found a candle in the bedchamber and had gone back down the hall to where the candle flickered in its sconce. Lighting her own candle with that flame, she proceeded back to her chamber.
The large room housed an enormous bed. In her mind, she could see the twin sisters who grew up here, giggling and talking far into the night, happy in one another’s company. But the room itself needed a thorough cleaning. Though she had fallen into a deep sleep, exhausted by the long day, she’d awakened early and found herself restless. The bedclothes gave off a horribly musty smell. She didn’t know how old they were, but they needed a good washing, followed by drying them in strong sunlight. The tattered bed curtains needed to come down and be replaced. The floor and walls should be thoroughly scrubbed—and scrubbed again for good measure. She wondered if all of the rooms in the keep needed such attention and guessed they did.
While exploring the pair of matching chests left behind, Beatrice found many items she could use. Raynor’s sisters had left behind several kirtles and smocks and numerous cotehardies. While they might be slightly out of style, that wouldn’t bother her. Being brought up in the country, she had no idea of the latest fashions at the court in London. Claiming a few of these clothes would more than replace her missing wardrobe. The variety of colors and cuts would also make her more than presentable when she arrived at Sir Henry’s estate.
She discovered a few pairs of shoes under the bed. One of the girls obviously had much larger feet because these shoes fell off her foot when she tried them on. The other Le Roux twin had left two pairs of shoes behind, one of them sturdy brown boots. They fit Beatrice as if they had been made for her. She was most excited about finding the boots. She had never owned anything as fine as the soft leather they were made from and decided to wear them today.
After she chose a yellow kirtle and cotehardie and dressed for the day, she searched the rest of the chamber. Nothing else held her interest. She did discover a comb with a few teeth missing, but it swept through her hair easily after she unbraided it. Beatrice re-braided her hair, the single plait falling to her waist, and then sat in the chair to await Raynor’s arrival.
When the knock sounded, her stomach flipped in a most peculiar way. She realized she was nervous, a new emotion for her. Beatrice answered the door, eager to see the handsome knight again.
“Good morning, my lady. Are you ready to attend mass?”
“Yes, my lord.” She took the arm he offered and thought that he seemed weary.
Raynor led them down the hallway to the wide staircase. “I hope you rested well in my sisters’ bedchamber.”
“I’ll admit I was more than tired and fell asleep quickly,” she replied. “But when I awoke, I donned some clothing your sisters left behind. They are a decent fit and will be more so after I take a needle to them.”
They quickly descended the stairs. He took her to a door leading outside. Shades of gray still colored the world in this early hour.
“Our chapel is small and located inside the walls of Ashcroft.” He frowned. “It’s very cool this morning. I should have suggested that you bring a cloak.”
“I didn’t find one in my chamber, but mayhap I will find cloth to make one for myself.”
He nodded. “I’m sure your inventory will apprise you of what’s available. I’m most grateful for your help, my lady.”
They reached the stone chapel and entered.
He bent next to her ear. His lips almost grazed it as he said, “I have spoken to Father Benedict. He will say a mass for Tolly today and see that he is properly buried.”
Goosebumps sprang up all over her body as his warm breath caressed her. Beatrice found it hard to breathe. She merely nodded as he pulled away.
She was not used to attending mass on a daily basis. On holy days, her grandfather had taken them to the church in the nearest village. She supposed all the great castles of England housed their own chapels and had their own priests.
When the service ended, Raynor escorted her back to the keep. Now that the sun had risen, Beatrice couldn’t help but assess the man at her side, finally seeing him clearly for the first time since they’d met.
She’d known Raynor Le Roux was tall, but in the light, she could see how well-built he was. Well over six feet, the knight radiated strength and confidence. The sun burnished his hair to a rich russet. His eyes were the color of summer grass, a vivid green set in a face that could have been chiseled from stone. High cheekbones and a strong jaw made him handsome beyond belief. It caused her insides to flutter in a way that left her giddy—and confused.
They stepped into the great hall. Her eyes swept across the space and fell upon a group of rowdy soldiers on one side of
the room. Others with children gathered on the opposite side and she assumed these were the castle’s servants and the serfs who farmed the land. Raynor brought her to a dais that sat high enough to be able to see everyone gathered in the room. He seated her and a pretty, plump girl brought them bread and ale.
“Eat up,” he encouraged. “I fear you will earn your keep these next few weeks as I try to bring a semblance of order back to Ashcroft.”
Sipping the cool ale, Beatrice asked, “Will you search for your brother first?” since she knew Gobert had revealed the baron was missing.
A look of distaste crossed Raynor’s face. “Nay. Peter returned home last night. We had a most enlightening conversation. Suffice it to say, he’s granted me permission to do all I need to restore Ashcroft to its former state. I’m only sorry you have seen it so neglected.”
“You have no need to apologize to me.” She gazed around the great hall. “This is the grandest room I’ve ever seen. The manor house I grew up in was tidy but small. I can’t wait to see the rest of the keep and all of the castle grounds.” She looked back at him and felt the heat rise on her cheeks at his intent stare.
“Promise me, my lady, that you won’t roam about without me or a designated escort. Inside the keep is not a problem. But I need to understand the lay of the land before allowing you to move freely about the grounds.”
“I understand.” Beatrice finished her meal and continued to study those in the room, catching curious glances cast in their direction.
Raynor rose after he finished eating and addressed the crowd. “Good morning,” he called out.
The people returned a mumbled greeting. Beatrice noted a wariness in the eyes of many as they turned their full attention upon him.
“I have been gone from Ashcroft often, but I plan to stay and see to its immediate needs in the next couple of months. My brother, Lord Peter, has agreed that I may make any changes needed in order to improve things.” He paused. “The first of these adjustments will be for everyone from the captain of the guard to the youngest serving wench to attend daily mass. The Le Roux family keeps Christ in their hearts and at the center of their work. The same should be true for everyone on the estate.”
He looked to the trestle tables that seated the group of soldiers. “I will be in the training yard in half an hour’s time. I want to see you at practice so I may judge where we stand regarding our defenses. Sir Ralph, you and I will discuss the guard duty schedule, among other matters.”
Beatrice saw a bearded man in his forties scowl at the words and assumed that he was Sir Ralph. She would not want to be in his shoes. If this knight had become derelict in his duties, she knew Raynor would tell him in no uncertain terms.
“The soldiers are dismissed,” Raynor said.
The benches scraped the floor as the men stood and made their way out of the great hall.
When the last soldier had left, Raynor continued. “I would like to introduce to you Lady Beatrice Bordel.” He offered her his hand and she took it. She stood, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach as the attention of everyone in the room focused on her.
“Lady Beatrice is visiting at Ashcroft before I escort her to her new home at Brookhaven. She has full authority inside the keep. It is up to her to decide what tasks need to be assigned and completed. I ask that you give her due respect and your cooperation.” His nose crinkled. “I hope she’ll start here in the great hall.”
Raynor’s head turned slowly, taking in the room. “I’m embarrassed to find rotted food and dog shit flung everywhere,” he told the group. “You dishonor my mother’s memory and shame Ashcroft by the way you have let the great hall fall into ruin. This kind of behavior will not be tolerated in the future.”
Beatrice sank to her seat and watched the people shift uncomfortably. Many lowered their gazes to the ground in shame.
His voice rang out. “I’ve discovered that the harvest has barely begun. You know we only have about two months to complete it, along with the tying and winnowing. The milling should follow shortly afterward. Failure to do so could lead to starvation. Your own children might suffer if you don’t put your best effort into this endeavor.”
Raynor looked out over the crowd. “Ashcroft has always been a place of plenty. A place where the people worked together for the good of all. Every man, woman, and child took pride in the contributions they made. I expect nothing less from this day forth. We will work together in a spirit of cooperation. I will personally discipline anyone who shirks his duties. Punishment will be swift. Is that understood by all?”
A low murmur was the response. Beatrice observed many glances as workers looked sheepishly at one another.
“I wish for us to, once again, become as a family, bound by our duty, respect, and love for one another, as we were in the past. I’ll provide you with my protection. You, in turn, will give your service. I hope you can forgive the recent lack of leadership and set aside any harsh feelings.”
Raynor scanned the crowd. “Today we make a new start. For one another. For Ashcroft!”
Chapter 9
Disappointment flooded Raynor as silence filled the great hall. He had already failed before he’d even begun to remedy all that was wrong at Ashcroft.
Then a cheer went up and clapping workers leapt to their feet. The noise resounded throughout the room. Relief took hold of him. He raised his hands and the applause died down.
“You’ve cheered my words, but remember—I will ask for you to push yourselves to the limit. Winter will not wait. We must complete the harvest and make ready for the cold weather that will come.”
He summoned Gobert. “Choose the five best serfs that we have. I’ll meet with them now in your record room. We’ll devise an immediate plan of action for today and the week to come. I also want to ride the estate afterward and see what’s in need of repair, from fences to cottages. And you and I must go over the books in the near future.”
“Aye, my lord.” Gobert hurried off, already gesturing for others to join him.
Raynor looked down at Beatrice. “You have your work cut out for you, my lady. Start wherever you desire. Our conversation last night led me to believe you know exactly what to do.”
“Trust me, my lord. I can handle all domestic matters inside the keep. I’ll report to you at the end of each day on our progress.”
She smiled, and for the first time he noticed the dimple in her cheek. He stopped himself from reaching out to touch it.
“Then I will leave you to your tasks,” he said gruffly, tamping down the lust that burned within him. He left for the small room where the Ashcroft records were stored.
With every step, his heart pounded as if he’d been fighting for hours. Beatrice Bordel had bewitched him. Now that he’d had his first clear look at her as they returned from mass this morning, her unique beauty stunned him. Her rich, brown hair called out for his hand to stroke it. Matched in color, her warm brown eyes, rimmed in amber, danced with life. She was small in stature, yet, above all, it was her smile that had captured his heart. It reached her eyes, crinkling them in merriment.
Raynor stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t meet with workers while in idle reverie over a woman, one which, he reminded himself, was promised to another. She was a guest in his home, one who had promised to help him put Ashcroft back together before he united her with her betrothed. She would add a woman’s touch in areas of which he knew nothing about. Lady Beatrice would repay him for coming to her aid by helping him restore his family’s home to its former glory.
Even if her mouth called out to him to be kissed.
He drew in a deep breath and expelled it slowly, trying to gain control of the wild notions running through his head. Raynor continued to the record room. He would decide how to best approach the harvest, then go to the training yard. That’s where he felt most comfortable.
Minutes later, Gobert arrived with five men in tow. Raynor remembered two of them and became quickly acquainted with the other thre
e.
“This wheat harvest is of utmost importance,” he stressed. “Beginning now, we’ll put in long hours each day until it’s completed. Every able-bodied man, woman, and child needs to be present in the fields. If we work together, no one will starve at Ashcroft. You have my word.” Raynor thought a moment. “How many scythes are there?”
John, a stout man with black hair and a thick beard, spoke up. “We have a good thirty in working condition, my lord. More, once the others are sharpened. That should happen frequently for the blades to be most effective.”
“Good. Set one man to the sharpening. Rotate the tools at least once a day. The midday meal will be taken in the fields.” He looked to Gobert. “Speak with Cook once we are finished here so that food and drink will be readied and taken to the workers. Have her shift the main meal to the end of the day. The same goes for the soldiers in the training yard.”
The men nodded in agreement. Raynor sensed they were relieved that someone had taken charge and provided them with direction.
“You five are to have authority over the other workers. John, you shall be head of all. Divide the serfs into teams. After a week’s time, we’ll reorganize and allow only the men to continue with the harvest. The women and older children can begin to tie what has been collected into sheaves in order for the wheat to dry.”
“My lord, I would suggest that once enough of the tying has been completed, we have men drive the carts that will transport the sheaves to be stored,” John added. “Many times, the carts are filled to the brim and unsteady. They can tip over. ’Twould be too dangerous for womenfolk.”
“I’ll leave details such as these in your capable hands, John,” Raynor said. “The same can be said for the winnowing. You may choose to start that process once enough sheaves have been transported or you may decide to wait till all of it has been gathered and brought in before the workers winnow the bundles.”