by Paula Quinn
“Aye, I have thought of it, as well,” he admitted. “’Tis indeed a terrible time right now.”
She sniffled against him. “Just a few days ago, my biggest trouble was what to give Joan for her ankles.”
“Aye,” he consoled, “but let us not live as though we have already been defeated, aye?”
She lifted her head and stared at him and then smiled. He was telling her what she’d forgotten for a moment. “Aye,” she agreed.
“Where are the Millers’ bodies?” she asked him, hating the words and moving out of his embrace.
“We buried them.”
She wanted to thank him for it—and for his comforting arms.
“Where is Brother Simon?”
“He has gone to pray fer Joan.” His eyes took her in as if he only had a moment before he was caught.
They returned to the warmth of the kitchen hearth, where Lily prepared lemon tea prepared with some of the herbs Richard was using in his remedies. She told him about the children sleeping above stairs in the beds. He promised he didn’t mind sleeping on the floor in the sitting room and she promised to make it more comfortable with many blankets.
Simon entered the kitchen from outside and with him came a gust of wind and a wide smile from Lily.
“Brother Simon,” she said in a hushed tone, going to him. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“As I am happy to see you. How is Richard?”
“He is well. Asleep. Come.” She took the brother’s hand and led him to a chair. “How is Joan?”
“Worse than when I left.”
“Elias told me about Martin and Deirdre…and the babe. We must not tell Joan about her family,” she said quietly. “She will lose all hope to live.”
The two men agreed somberly and accepted their cups of tea. She gave Brother Simon hers and made more. She told him about the others who were sick and he promised to see them tomorrow. They broke it to him that there were children in the beds.
“Well, at least we a have roof over our head,” the brother said.
Elias smiled at him. “Sleepin’ ootdoors isna so bad. Ye have done it many times.”
“Aye, and each time I hated it,” the small-boned brother retorted. “Bugs everywhere. You do not know what might be crawling on you in the darkness. Moonlight does not help because sometimes seeing what is on you is worse.”
He and Lily cringed then shivered.
“That is not to mention,” he continued with a sour face, “the things out there that can eat you, or stab you in the heart and steal your coin.”
Lily didn’t know how anyone did it. Just the thought…and what about bats?
She felt Elias’ eyes on her and looked at him. He smiled, watching her reaction to his friend’s words. She felt a little giddy. She was so happy that he was well. So happy he’d come back. If she was going to die, let her last days be giddy ones.
They sipped their tea and talked about other things. Elias told her about his family members and Brother Simon told her about some of their adventures in France. She told them about little Eddie being born the night she and Bertram had arrived. “He holds a special place in my heart because I helped bring him into this world. He is very precious. Even Bertram was gentle around him.”
They finally laid their heads down, and the sun came up two hours later.
Lily didn’t want to get out of bed and face a new day with more of her friends, perhaps even those who meant even more to her, sick.
Someone was tapping her on the arm, rousing her from the last remnants of sleep.
“Lily.” It was Charlie, Cecily’s brother. He was standing over her, his face ashen gray. “I think my mother is dead.”
Chapter Twelve
Elias held a long stick with a piece of cloth dipped in tar around the tip of it. He dipped the tip into the fire and turned the stick over Alice’s body wrapped in linen and placed on a small platform.
He held the flames to her until her linens caught fire, then stepped back.
Father Benedict had prayed over her and over her children. Simon included a prayer for the animals, as well, since a donkey, his and Elias’ horses, and three ducks had also died in the last few days.
They all looked on, wondering who would be next.
The good news—if one could find anything good these days—was Bertram was still alive. Richard knew what blends he’d given him, thanks to their color system, and started Joan and Walter on the same blend immediately.
Word arrived from London that King Edward’s own daughter had succumbed to the terrible disease. Many were going hungry as merchants were either too sick to travel, or refused to.
Sevenoaks had had a good harvest and the mill was full. There was plenty of food, but how long would it last? How long would anything last?
Elias tried to put on a lighthearted smile but Deirdre Miller’s face and body haunted his thoughts. He’d seen much in battle. Terrible things. But Deirdre was heavy with child. He’d searched for the thieves, tracking them to the outskirts of Netherfield. There had been two men appearing to be about the same age as Elias. He found their camp and listened to them talk around the fire about the woman they’d killed with the full belly. One had asked the other if they would go to hell for it.
Elias stepped out of the trees and told them he would help them find out. He took them down in a blur of steel and blood and then returned to the Millers and buried them properly.
He hadn’t told Lily about killing the thieves. Her delicate ears didn’t need to hear such ugly things. Each hour was difficult enough. He wouldn’t add more to it.
When Alice’s funeral was over, they walked back to the house and had something to eat. They comforted Charlie and Cecily as best they could and Lily promised to take care of them now that they had no mother.
Elias left her soon after to go with Richard to check on Bertram and feed him more tea. The bastard was getting better. It was cause to celebrate. Richard had found a cure! They would live! Elias would get to kill him.
But he couldn’t get Alice…or her orphaned children out of his head. He pushed the tip of his sword closer to Bertram’ throat while he drank.
Richard had told him the sword was unnecessary since Bertram was weak and restrained. Elias didn’t care. He couldn’t wait to kill him. He wanted him to know it.
He left the shed after Richard and shoved his sword into its sheath at his belt as he stepped out into the afternoon sun.
He saw Lily coming across the grass toward them. Her gaze darted away from him and returned to her husband. She looked shaken, pale. Was she feeling ill?
He moved forward, reaching Richard, and waited for her.
“Joan has died,” she informed them with a gentle wind pulling strands of her flaxen hair across her face. She closed her eyes for a moment and just breathed. Elias thought that mayhap she was trying to hold herself together, trying to be strong. It made him want to comfort her and be strong for her. Joan was her friend.
Moved by compassion, he took a step toward her and then stopped, remembering she had a husband and he was standing close by.
“At least she is with her family now,” she said, sounding miserably resigned.
“Elias and I will tend to her, Lily,” Richard said.
She swiped something from her eye and then began to turn away, to return to Walter and the children, and her plants. Elias wanted to do something for her to take her away from all this—mayhap get Richard to rest for a few hours.
“We will attend to Joan tomorrow,” he said. “Let me and Simon be in charge of supper tonight, my lady.”
“No, no, I could not let you do that—”
He shooed her along, refusing to take no for an answer. Richard was grateful. Simon most likely wouldn’t be. Elias had a plan. He hoped the sun stayed out, and he prayed that no one else turned up sick today.
He was correct. Simon wasn’t pleased, but he agreed to help. Elias had learned how to cook some things while he was in France but
he wasn’t sure Lily had any deer meat, heron, or salt barrel herring sitting around. He wondered if Agnes would help him cook something fitting for Lily and Richard.
He decided to pay Agnes a visit. She didn’t live too far from the shop. He picked up Annabelle, Cecily, and Charlie on the way.
Agnes was happy to help. In fact, she smiled at him and blushed often while she oversaw his supper of cooked fish fillets with Poivre Jaunet.
Usually the yellow pepper sauce was used for meats. But there were no fresh kills in Sevenoaks. Fish would do. Thankfully, Lily had almost every spice and herb he needed to make the sauce. He would grind ginger, saffron, and long peppers, also cloves if they were on hand. They were. He had everything he needed to make supper for six.
Simon helped, as did the lasses. Charlie fetched whatever Elias needed. Osbert the reeve and Father Benedict helped keep Richard and Lily at the shop and away from the house, the west side of the house to be precise, where the lavender and delicate, white lilies-of-the-valley grew. Elias had seen the garden the day she brought him here. It was the perfect place.
Agnes also agreed to keep Cecily and Charlie with her for supper if he wished it. Elias asked the children what they wished to do. Cecily wanted to stay with Annabelle.
“With you,” Charlie told him.
Elias bent to him and smiled, glad to have his company. It would be a pleasant supper. Elias was happy to be a part of it and felt a bit foolish for it in the middle of such a catastrophic time. He should be afraid for what was coming. For what was here. These people he’d begun to care about because of Lily Bennett might all die. He might have to watch. They might have to watch him.
But all he felt was anger at the one who did this. The man who was alive in the shed. He would speak to Richard about it later. They were giving Walter the butcher the same herbal teas they’d given Bertram. What did they need Bertram for?
He hadn’t told Lily he’d had, in fact, escaped Father Benedict and followed her to the shed when she’d tried to speak to Bertram. He hadn’t wanted to intrude on whatever she had to say to him. He’d simply wanted to make sure she was safe near the bastard.
“Where do you want this chair?” Charlie asked him.
Later. Elias thought. Tonight was for them. He pointed down the narrow path between the colorful bushes. He carried the supper table out of the kitchen and followed Charlie. Simon was behind him with two stools. When he came to the desired spot, where the sunset would cast its crimson glow on the table, he set the table down, steadied it, and covered it with a clean plaid he had packed in his saddlebag. Charlie helped Simon carry out another chair and stool, while Annabelle carried a candle to the table. Agnes and Cecily helped him bring the food and ale out.
They tried to light the candle but it wouldn’t stay lit in the wind. Elias finally gave up and shoved a few sprigs of lavender into a cup instead and ran back to the house for another cup. He nearly knocked Lily over in the kitchen.
“Ah, good! Come with me. Wait, where is Richard?”
She pointed to his workshop at the other end of the house.
“Richard!” Elias called out.
“Elias, where is my table? Where are my chairs?”
“Ye will see, lass.” He smiled and then stepped around her and called for Richard again.
“I’m coming,” the old apothecary called out. “Why all the haste?”
Elias led them out through the kitchen and into the garden painted in rich, warm, golden hues. “Just a few steps more.”
When the table and chairs came into view, with Simon sitting on a stool with Charlie beside him waiting for them, Lily paused to walk backwards and looked at Elias. “You brought my kitchen outdoors?”
“Aye,” he told her with a grin.
“And cooked this meal for all of you,” Agnes told her as she passed Lily with the lasses and returned to her cottage.
Richard lifted his arm and patted Elias on the shoulder. “That was quite thoughtful of you, Eli, my boy. Was it not, Lily?”
She was looking at everything. She appeared a bit restless. It was good that she was smiling. Wasn’t it?
He told her about Simon helping, and all that Agnes had done and was still doing by taking care of Cecily for a few hours. She settled her gaze on Charlie then swiped a curl away from his face and smiled.
Richard went to him and covered Charlie’s hand with his. “We are happy you chose to sit with us for supper, Charlie.”
“This,” Lily began and looked at the table and the food set out upon it, and took a shallow breath, “this is one of my favorite places. I love being out here and now…” She looked at Elias and smiled and took a deep, shaky breath “Thank you,” she said to him and to Simon and Charlie.
Elias held out Lily’s chair first and then Richard’s, and then removed his mask. The others did the same. They toasted one another with cups of ale, and included Charlie and his dear departed mother. They did their best to put the sickness out of their thoughts. Lily was first to tell Elias that the supper he’d prepared for them was delicious. The fish was cooked to perfection and the Poivre Jaunet was heavenly.
Richard appreciated the flavors and the herbs Elias had used in the sauce but he didn’t care for the ginger. Some didn’t. It was an overpowering spice that stung going down. Elias had used a very small amount, but he patted Richard’s back and scraped off the sauce on his friend’s dish with his knife. Lily and Charlie enjoyed theirs and smiled while they ate.
Richard told Charlie to remember the taste of it and then told him what ginger can do for the body. Elias listened, too, pouring more ale and water for the lad.
They laughed when Simon told them about the time Elias was six years old and ran through the great hall of Lismoor naked. He defended himself by explaining that there were biting ants in his clothes.
They listened with awe when Charlie told them about the summer he was nine and his kin had gone to a nearby lake for refreshment and merriment. The summer his sister had nearly drowned. “There were many of us in the lake and no one had noticed that Cecily was drowning. But I did. I saw her go down and I swam to her as fast as I could and dove into the water to find her.”
Lily’s eyes widened when she caught Elias’ gaze. He could do nothing but agree in amazement as the lad continued his tale of saving Cecily’s life.
Elias wanted to stand up and toast him, so he did. Everyone rose with him. They talked about Charlie’s father and Elias told him that if he were the lad’s father, he would be bursting with pride in him. “As Richard no doubt was.”
Richard agreed.
“Well, ‘tis getting late.” Lily started to rise but the touch of Elias’ fingertips stopped her.
“But we have not heard anythin’ aboot ye yet.”
“I can help there,” Richard offered, raising his cup to himself and swigging the contents down his throat. “A week after we married, she tried to roast my supper on a spit over a fire in my kitchen and burned down my house.”
Simon and Charlie both held their hands over their mouths. Elias smiled at her. He understood it was the only way she knew how to cook outdoors.
She didn’t seem to mind the mild teasing but laughed along and swiped at Richard’s arm when he said, “The next day, when we were homeless, she cooked my dinner over a makeshift spit and it was delicious.”
They admired the lavender and orange sunset and Elias found her looking at him more than once. “I do not usually get a chance to see this anymore.”
“Then,” he said, feeling ridiculously pleased with himself for making her so happy. “I am glad ye are seein’ it now.”
When Richard rose, the rest of them followed. “Simon, help Charlie clean up and bring the chairs inside. Elias, you will return my wife’s table. Lily, go fetch Cecily.”
He left the table with a wobble in his step and walked back to the house. Simon and Charlie left after him, but not before Lily gave them both a kiss on the cheek and thanked them for helping to make this night s
pecial in her mind forever.
She turned to Elias. Would it be even more obvious if she didn’t kiss his cheek? “I will see you inside when I return.”
“Wait fer me,” he pleaded and turned to hoist the table onto his back. He returned it to the kitchen, crossing paths with his friends going back for the stools.
Elias placed the table down and begged Simon to change the covering for him. “I dinna want her oot there alone,” he told Simon and then ran from the kitchen.
She hadn’t waited. He felt a surge of disappointment over it and then took off after her.
He spotted her walking quickly toward the village and Agnes’ house. He called her name into the indigo night. She turned and waited with a smile until he caught up. “Ye are fast,” he remarked.
“I wanted to hurry and get home.”
“Are ye still afraid?”
“A little. But not of being out here, and not of you, Elias. ‘Tis hard to explain. I just do not feel safe anymore.”
He moved a bit closer and offered her a confident grin. “Do not be afraid, Lily. I will stop at nothin’ to keep ye safe.”
He didn’t want to talk about dying. “Were ye verra pleased with supper, lass?”
She spun around to face him. “Oh, Elias! I loved it! I want to eat there every day and enjoy the beauty of my garden.”
He listened and thought of a thousand ways to build her a small table with a chair to match, for her and her alone. Someplace where she could sit in her garden and get away from everything.
They picked up Cecily and took her home, playing a game while they went.
None of them noticed the shed door swinging open in the gentle breeze.
Chapter Thirteen
Lily woke the next morning, thinking about the night before. She never wanted to forget it. If life was normal and children hadn’t lost their mother, she would have thought supper was one of the most pleasant times of her life that she could remember. All thanks to Elias. He knew she would enjoy sitting in the midst of her flowers and herbs. He’d carried out her kitchen table! He’d helped her forget, even for a little while, that they were saying farewell to Joan today.