This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Published by Kindle Press, Seattle, 2017
Amazon, the Amazon logo, Kindle Scout, and Kindle Press are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN: 1544235801
ISBN-13: 978-1544235806
Also by Annette K. Larsen
Just Ella
Missing Lily
Saving Marilee
Painting Rain
For joy.
For beauty.
For being comfortable in your own skin.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
To My Readers
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
I MET HIM my first day working at Baylor Manor.
It was my first time going to work in service, and though I tried to be brave, I was mostly nervous. As the wagon came to a halt, I breathed deeply and reminded myself that I was a whole ten years old, and I could do this. My brother Gavin jumped down before reaching up to retrieve me from the bench.
He set me on the ground, then bent to straighten my shawl and gave me a smile to encourage my own bravery. “Let’s go in the kitchen and find the housemistress, shall we?”
Despite his smile, his eyes were sad. He’d looked that way a lot lately, ever since he was dismissed from his duties in the palace gardens. I knew he felt guilty that I had to work, but his lost wages had been significant, and I was the only one in the family who didn’t already work. He had tried to find another position, but most people knew that it was the king himself who had dismissed him, and that had left a mark on his character. He assisted my father in his woodshop, but his presence only relieved my father of some of the burden of work; it didn’t create any extra income.
I gave a little nod and forced a smile, determined not to pout. I was already looking forward to the end of the day, when Gavin could come back and take me home, but I didn’t want him to feel bad. He took my hand, and I clung to it even though I was too old for such things. It was time for me to show that I was grown-up and didn’t need to be babied—a difficult task, since I was small for my age and my wild, curly hair made me look even younger. Still, I squared my shoulders and tried to walk like I wasn’t afraid.
As we turned toward the back of the manor, the stable doors burst open and out tumbled four boys, all about my age or a bit older.
I retreated, hiding behind Gavin’s arm.
After a moment of tussling, one boy with dirty blond hair and big front teeth noticed me. “Is that the new kitchen maid?” he asked his friends.
Four pairs of eyes turned to me, and I scooted a little farther behind Gavin. I had been hoping no one would take notice of me. If they teased me, it would be difficult to hold my tongue. Mother always said I had too much sass for my own good.
A different boy smacked his friend’s shoulder. “She’s a girl. Be polite,” he admonished before giving me a wide grin and bowing at the waist.
I blushed and looked away. How very strange to have a boy bow to me. Even stranger was that his friends did the same, though none of them were as practiced as he was.
“Welcome to Baylor Manor,” he said.
“Would you point us to the kitchen, lad?” Gavin asked.
“This way,” the polite one said, which prompted all four to run off toward the house.
Gavin squeezed my hand, and I looked up at him. “They seem friendly enough,” he observed.
I sighed, certain that their polite greeting had been teasing more than anything, but I followed along in silence.
When we stepped inside the kitchen, a woman with a tidy bun and a starched apron was shooing the stable lads back outside. They rushed past, several clutching a biscuit or two. Then she spotted me. “Ah, there you are,” she said briskly. “Say farewell to your brother, and we’ll get to work.” She turned without another word.
I took a deep breath, put on a brave smile, and waved to Gavin.
“I’ll see you at the end of the day,” he said as I followed after the housemistress.
She introduced me to the kitchen staff and gave me my duties, which were simple and straightforward. Mama had put me to work in her kitchen often enough that scrubbing a pot and tending a fire were nothing new. Though our pots were not so big, nor were our fireplaces.
I settled into my work over the next few days, and though I missed being able to run out and play or visit with my goat, the cooks were kind and I was content to do my work in silence.
The stable lads were often about when I would come and go. Sometimes I would see only a couple, while other times as many as five would be about, usually working at their duties, though once in a while I’d catch them wrestling in the straw. However, the polite young lad that had bowed to me seemed to have disappeared.
A week after starting my duties at Baylor Manor, the cook informed me that since I had become familiar with the house, I would be in charge of bringing young Master Rylander his afternoon tea in the schoolroom each day.
Admittedly, this duty made me more nervous than any of my others. In the kitchen, all I needed to do was be quiet and get my work done. Now I would have to wander through the house, possibly passing by the lord and lady who lived there. I reminded myself that I was lucky to be serving tea to Rylander, the younger brother, instead of the elder brother, Welsley Baylor, who I had heard was a difficult kind of person. My many arguments with my brother Fynn had taught me that I wasn’t very patient with difficult people.
However, I was determined to make Mama and Papa proud, so I retied my kerchief over my frizzy curls and tried to hold my back straight as I carried the tray up the back stairs. The upper corridor was empty, and I made it to the schoolroom without passing by anyone at all.
Luckily, the door was open, and I was able to slip in without having to set the tray on the floor or risk balancing it on one hand. The last thing I wanted was to embarrass myself by being clumsy.
Still, I nearly dropped it when I saw the boy sitting at the desk. I recognized him right away; a lad who made a habit of bowing to kitchen maids was bound to make an impression. Apparently young Rylander made a habit of running about with the stable lads even though he was part of a noble family. Not that I blamed him. Playing in the stables certainly looked like more fun than sitting alone in this big room, reading big books from his seat on a big chair.
I reminded myself not to stare as I moved my feet forward and slid the tray onto the corner of the desk. He finally noticed my presence and glanced up with a startled expression that was followed almost immediately by a grin that made his pale blue eyes seem a little bit sparkly.
“Well, hello there.” He stood and step
ped to the side of his chair before bowing.
My cheeks grew hot. “You don’t need to bow to me.”
“My mother says I should bow to all ladies, young and old.”
“You know I’m not a lady.”
He shrugged. “But you’re a girl. And I think she meant all girls, not only the noble ones.”
“Oh.” I doubted that was what his mother had meant, but I didn’t want to contradict him, either.
He grabbed a cookie from the tray and bit into it. “Hm. Betsy must’ve made these. They’re better than yesterday.” He grabbed another from the plate and held it out. “Fancy one?”
“Um, no, thank you.”
He held it out farther. “Go on. I can’t eat them all myself.”
He seemed to mean it, and I had been admiring those particular cookies all morning. “Thank you,” I said, and took it carefully from his hand, remembering to curtsy as I did. Then I took a little nibble of it and felt my eyes widen at the lovely taste.
“See? They’re always better when Betsy makes them.”
I simply nodded and took another bite. It tasted like ginger and had a little bit of sugar on top. My family rarely bought sugar.
I dawdled longer than I should have, but Rylander ate his cookies and drank his tea, seeming not at all concerned that I lingered over the treat he’d offered. I wanted to finish it before I went into the hallway. Otherwise someone might think I’d snitched it from the kitchen. After I’d swallowed the last bite, I brushed at my mouth and my dress before thanking him again and excusing myself. He gave me a big smile and a wave as I left. Such an odd young noble.
When I returned the next day, he again offered to share his sweets with me. As I nibbled on the corner of a biscuit, he asked my name. Somehow this surprised me even more than his bowing or offering me a taste of his food.
I swallowed and answered, “Kinley.”
“Kinley what?” he asked as he leaned his elbows on the desk.
“Kinley Amaro.”
He smiled. “Well met, Kinley. You can call me Rylan.”
“Very well,” I said, though I knew I wouldn’t. That would be far too presumptuous. I curtsied and left.
It became my favorite part of the day. I would deliver his afternoon tea, and he would usually insist I have a piece of whatever cake or pastry had been sent up to him. I would allow myself a few bites, making sure not to take much time, but each day as I saw the stacks of books and parchment scattered around him, my curiosity mounted a bit more. One day I was brave enough to ask him what he was studying. He let me look at the maps and told me what the scribbled writing said. I couldn’t read, so I merely nodded.
He remembered my name and conversed with me as if we were friends. He told me he was eleven years old. I always found him alone, and he never seemed to tire of his studies. I wondered how there could be so much in his books to keep his attention day after day. Did they really hold so much?
“I thought nobles had tutors,” I said, kneeling on a chair across from him as I pinched off pieces of the pastry that sat on the plate between us.
“We do,” he said around a bite.
“Then why is he never here? Did you murder him and leave him in a closet somewhere?” I smirked and widened my eyes at the scandalous thought.
He laughed, covering his mouth so he wouldn’t spit out his food. “He’s here in the morning. Mother arranged for tea to come after he leaves. She knows I always stay behind.”
I pulled a face. “I thought you had to be here.”
“No, I just like to learn. My tutor leaves out all the really interesting bits, so I read about them myself.” He chewed for a moment. “If I get bored, I’ll visit my horse or see if the stable lads are done with their work.”
I shoved my hair off my forehead then rubbed my nose with the back of my hand. “Does your mama mind? That you run about outside and get all dirty?”
“Why would Mother mind?”
“I don’t know. It just seems like the nobles are always so clean. Maybe you’ll have to stay clean when you’re older.”
He snorted. “I hope not.”
✼ ✼ ✼
The day I turned eleven, I woke to the unpleasantness of Fynn tugging on my braid. “Ow!” I flipped over and smacked him before he could run off.
He laughed, not hurt at all. “I just wanted to be sure you didn’t miss any of your birthday,” he said with what I guessed was supposed to be an innocent expression.
“Liar!” I yelled as he went to the kitchen.
After dressing, I brought a comb to the kitchen so that Mama could work the knots from my hair as I ate breakfast. As she was finishing, Fynn reached out to give my hair another tug, but Mama rapped his knuckles with the comb. “Stop pestering your sister,” she reprimanded, and I couldn’t help the smug smile I gave him.
Janie rushed in a moment later, hanging her shawl on a peg before setting her basket of eggs on the table and taking a seat.
Mama looked in the basket, no doubt counting, then nodded. “Your chickens seem to be doing well.”
Janie’s mouth was already full of breakfast, so she just smiled. I knew she had hopes of taking at least one of the chickens with her when she married. It would be a big help to her and Simon as they started their own household. The question was whether my parents could spare it. She finished her breakfast in record time, then deposited her dishes in the sink. “I have to get to the bakery,” she said, then came to kiss the top of my head. “Happy birthday, sweet pea.” She winked at me, then grabbed her shawl and was gone.
Simon’s parents owned the bakery and had been kind enough to let her work there. We were lucky that she was able to walk to work.
Gavin drove me to Baylor Manor as usual, but on the way, he stopped to pick me a flower.
“You’re much nicer than Fynn,” I said, wrinkling my nose at the thought of Fynn’s antics.
Gavin laughed. “I’m sure he’ll start being nicer as he gets older.”
“Why can’t he just be nice now?”
“Because sometimes brothers think they need to fight with their sisters no matter what.”
“You don’t fight with Janie.”
“Perhaps not anymore, but we fought plenty when we were younger.” He winked at me. “She always thought she needed to be the boss.”
I smiled because as much as I wanted to defend Janie, I knew how much she liked to be in charge.
He looked over at me. “Besides, you’re not always nice to Fynn, either, Kinley.”
I folded my arms. “He could at least be nice to me on my birthday.”
“Chin up. You don’t need to be worrying about Fynn.”
“At least Rylander will be nice to me.”
“Rylander? You mean Lord Baylor’s son?”
I nodded.
Gavin scowled. “Is Rylander usually nice to you?”
“Yes. He’s always very nice, and he’s not even as old as Fynn,” I declared, thinking how superior Rylan was to my immature brother.
“How do you know Rylander Baylor?”
“I bring him tea, and he shows me his books and maps. He even showed me something called a compass that can show you what direction you are going.”
He was still scowling, though I didn’t know why. “And you two are . . . friends?”
I shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Well then, just . . . make sure he minds his manners.”
“Oh, he’s very polite. The politest boy I’ve ever met.”
He nodded. “I want you to tell me if that ever changes.”
“All right,” I agreed, kicking my feet against the wagon seat.
We came to a stop, and I jumped out of the wagon without waiting for Gavin to help, then waved at him before running around to the kitchen.
I didn’t tell the cooks it was my birthday. I wanted to tell only Rylan, like a secret.
Nancy, the head cook, had to remind me twice to keep doing my work during the morning. I should have been payi
ng better attention, but I was too excited to take Rylan his tea and see what he thought about me being eleven now.
When Betsy finally handed me the tea tray, I had to walk extra carefully so that I wouldn’t spill anything. When I finally set it on the desk in the schoolroom, I couldn’t wait any longer.
“Guess what?” I asked him as he finished bowing like he always did.
“What?”
“We are the same age now,” I said in triumph, my head held high.
“It’s your birthday?”
I nodded.
He grinned. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he ran from the room.
I was left a little confused, but he said he would be right back, so I stayed put, hoping he wouldn’t be too long. I could never stay for as long as I liked since I was only supposed to be delivering the tray.
Luckily, he returned in just a minute or two. He carried a large bundle of dark purple satin and feathers, as well as a gentleman’s hat.
I discovered the lump of purple satin was in fact an elaborate lady’s hat, which he placed on my head. “What is this for?” I asked, laughing as the brim fell over my eyes. I pushed it back to see him donning the other hat.
“My parents always let me wear one of my father’s hats when it is my birthday. So I figured you could wear one of Mother’s, and I could wear one of Father’s. Here.” He pushed a plate toward me. “It looks like Betsy even knew to send up our favorite cookies.”
I sat down, my special hat magically transforming me into a refined lady. As we ate, I spoke in a snooty lady voice, saying things like, “What a fine young man you are,” and “These refreshments are just the thing.”
Rylan snickered and tipped his hat down over one eye. “It’s the latest fashion, you know.”
Once we had devoured every cookie, I grudgingly gave the hat back to him. He doffed his own hat in a bow of dismissal, and a grin curved my mouth as I skipped back to the kitchen.
Upon returning home that evening, I was happy to see Suzannah waiting for me in the yard. She and I had been friends for as long as I could remember. We spent so much time together that some might have thought us sisters if we weren’t opposites in appearance. She was a blonde, and I was a brunette. Her hair was straight, and mine was curly. Even our heights were opposite.
Keeping Kinley Page 1