by M. J. Haag
Kellen and I shared a look. On the second floor, there were four bedrooms. Kellen and I shared the largest. Father had the smallest one, and Mother had the room with the nursery attached. With Mother gone, Anne had started sleeping downstairs with Judith in the room just off the kitchen. While Father’s room was now also empty, we couldn’t ask Maeve to sleep there. It would be highly improper, especially with visitors expected within days.
“I’ll show you the way,” Kellen said to Maeve.
I followed behind the pair as Kellen led her to Mother’s room, Kellen having come to the same conclusion as I.
Maeve took one look at the room and shook her head.
“I cannot stay here. Is there an open servant’s room? Even a mat in your attic would be welcome.”
I looked around the beautifully furnished room in confusion.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “This is all we have at the moment. You don’t like it?”
Maeve caught me up in another hug.
“Dear child, this is your mother’s room. Of course it’s perfect.” She pulled back and looked me in the eyes. “But, I’m here to ease your transition into a new life. To be your confidante and friend until you no longer need one. I’m not here to replace your mother or your memories of her. And, the last thing I want is for you to feel any animosity toward me. That wouldn’t help any of us do what needs to be done. I fear that staying in this room would hinder our goals, not help them.”
“We insist,” Kellen said. “If you’d prefer not to sleep in this bed, there’s another in the nursery that Anne used.”
“We don't mind if you stay in here,” I said. “There really isn't anywhere else.”
Maeve gave us both searching looks and went to check the nursery.
“This does look comfortable. Are you sure you don't mind if I stay in this part?”
“Not at all,” Kellen said.
“Perhaps after I rest, we can talk more, and you can introduce me to Anne.”
The wind rattled the window near my head as I lay in bed. It was the only sound, beyond Kellen’s steady breathing, that I could hear in the now quiet house. I rolled to my side and studied my sister's pale face in the weak moonlight.
“What do you think of her?” I asked quietly, seeing Kellen didn’t yet sleep.
“She seems nice.”
“She does. And Judith and Anne like her.”
After waking from a long nap, Maeve had eaten lunch with us and then insisted on meeting our staff. She was cordial and friendly. Not what one would expect from someone who held the title of Lady Grimmoire.
“I was a bit surprised she wanted to see the pig,” I said.
Kellen smiled in the dark.
“She didn't get too close, though, did she?”
I laughed. “No, she didn't. But that's okay. I don't think Mother would have gotten close, either.”
We both grew quiet. It was nice having Maeve with us. It distracted us from the change in our routine since now there was no one to read to. No one to play for. No rhythm to our days without Mother’s presence.
“It’s childish, I know, but I don’t want to like her,” I said. “I know how I feel about her won’t change what happened. Mother’s gone. Yet, it feels wrong to like Maeve so quickly.”
“Perhaps it’s best to maintain your distance. Maeve is here for a purpose, and once that purpose is fulfilled, she’ll leave.”
I knew what Kellen was thinking. Maeve would leave like Mother and Father.
“I won’t leave you,” I said.
“People always leave, Eloise. It’s in our nature…how we’re made. If not through abandonment, then by death.”
“Well then, I will never abandon you. Ever.”
Her eyes softened before she closed them.
“I believe you,” she whispered.
Chapter Four
The soft murmur of voices drew me to the hall where Maeve and Kellen stood, looking into Father’s room.
“Good morning,” I said.
Maeve turned and smiled at me.
“Good morning, Eloise. I’m sorry if we disturbed you.”
“Not at all.” I glanced at Father’s room then Kellen, who was usually never up this early. “Is everything all right?”
Maeve gave me a troubled look.
“Since your father anticipates his latest endeavor to take some time, I arranged for everything I hold dear to arrive within a fortnight. Kellen and I were discussing if there might be a way to accommodate what will arrive.”
I joined them at Father's door. His room was very crowded and removing all but his bed would likely free much of the space. However, clearing his room would feel like we were giving up on his return.
“He never mentioned how long he planned to be gone,” I said.
“That's odd. He told me at least four months.”
The news felt like a slap.
Maeve’s expression softened.
“The sun has barely risen. Far too early for this conversation. Let us eat first. After, we can discuss my place here.”
Kellen and I followed Maeve to the dining room where she started to take a seat.
“We eat in the kitchen in the morning,” Kellen said. “It makes—made things easier for Judith.”
“Of course,” Maeve said, immediately changing course.
She followed us into the kitchen and greeted Judith and Anne as we sat at the table. She accepted her soft-boiled egg and didn’t say anything when the pair joined us. I was very grateful for that. Anne and Judith were a part of our family. Hugh, too, though he preferred to eat earlier than the rest of us. Kellen and I had just lost our parents, and I refused to bend to social etiquette and distance myself from any of them.
After we finished our soft-boiled eggs, it didn’t surprise me when Maeve once again brought up the problem of where to store her possessions.
“Mother’s room makes the most sense,” Kellen said. “We live in a modest home and need to be practical with how we use the space we have. Moving Mother’s possessions to the attic is reasonable as Father might come back to us while Mother never will.”
Maeve studied Kellen for a moment then reached out to put her hand over my sister’s. However, Kellen moved her hand from the table before Maeve could touch her.
“Would you be interested in going to the market with me today, Lady Grimmoire?” Anne asked, smoothly deflecting the moment. “Judith can help the girls move Mrs. Cartwright’s things to the attic while we’re gone.”
“I hate the idea of leaving all the work to the three of them,” Maeve said, a light of impending protest in her eyes.
“As you’ve said, we have only a few days until visitors start arriving. A trip to the market is necessary and one Eloise and I cannot perform during our mourning period,” Kellen said. “It makes sense to divide our numbers to complete what must be done in a short period of time.”
Maeve inclined her head. “You are very sensible, Kellen. That will help you greatly in the days ahead.”
I breathed a silent sigh of relief that Maeve wasn’t put out by Kellen’s manner. While Anne went to tell Hugh to hitch the wagon, Maeve accompanied us upstairs.
“Do not strain yourselves moving anything heavy,” she warned. “Hugh can assist with those things when we return.”
“We will be careful,” I promised as my gaze wandered over Mother’s things.
After Maeve left, it didn’t take Kellen, Judith, and me long to dismantle and move the bed upstairs. Carrying the smaller pieces of furniture to the attic was a bit more tedious and required many trips.
Having returned for the next piece, a chair near the window, I paused to stare at the plain wooden box that contained every item Father had ever brought home for Mother. The green necklace was no longer there. It had never belonged with her treasured items. Instead, I’d hidden it under a board in our room before Maeve arrived.
Despite Father’s warning, I couldn’t put thoughts of the necklace out of my mind. Som
ething had happened when I’d touched the pendant just as certainly as something had happened to Mother when Kellen had put it on her.
Although I knew Father’s admonition to keep silent had been to protect me, I couldn’t help my resentment that he’d done nothing after hearing my suspicions. Surely, he couldn’t be agreeable with someone killing his wife? Perhaps that was the reason behind his determination to leave so quickly. If he had stayed and brought to light that someone had used magic on the king’s own land, what would have happened? I swallowed hard. Father’s death. Perhaps ours, too.
I should follow his example and put what happened behind me. Yet words lingered in my mind, haunting me with their insistence. Who? Why? Would I never know the answers?
Kellen walked into the room and caught me looking at Mother’s jewelry box.
“Perhaps we should move the jewelry box to our room instead of the attic,” she said.
“No, I don’t think I can wear any of her treasures just yet. And seeing the box would only bring pain right now.”
She nodded and didn’t question me when I carried it out of the room.
The attic, already full of so many castoffs, was now crowded with the addition of Mother’s furniture. There was still room to walk between pieces and find a safe place for the box in a back corner, though.
By midday, Mother’s room was cleared, and Anne and Maeve had returned. We ate a companionable lunch in the kitchen then moved to the sitting room while Hugh moved the last pieces of furniture into the attic.
“Anne was quite informative today,” Maeve said.
“Informative?” I asked.
“Yes. About who might be visiting and with whom I needed to have the most care.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” I said.
“The gossips,” Maeve said bluntly. “Those who will come to give condolences but are really only here to gain information to share with their friends over tea.”
“That would be every woman who passes over our threshold tomorrow,” Kellen said.
“Not the men?” Maeve asked.
“Father had many business contacts. The men who call will likely only be here as a show of respect and will not linger long.”
“I see,” Maeve said. She glanced at me, but I couldn’t contradict Kellen’s assessment.
“Well, that does make me question how much effort and funds to put into refreshments.”
“Unfortunately, no matter how much we dislike those who attend, we cannot slight our responsibilities,” Kellen said. “To do so would reflect poorly on our love for our mother.”
“You are quite right,” Maeve said. “Then, there is only one other matter to discuss. Do you want to be present? If so, both of you will need to acquire the appropriate attire.”
I looked down at my hands, dreading what she meant. The black gowns of mourning. Everywhere we went, people would know our grief. We wouldn’t be able to escape it. Not even for a moment.
“I would prefer to mourn in solitude,” Kellen said, saving me from trying to come up with a diplomatic answer.
“I agree,” I said.
“Very well. I will welcome and speak to every guest on your behalves. Is there anything you wish me to say to them?”
“‘Go away’ has a nice ring to it,” I said.
Maeve chuckled. “If only it were that easy.”
“Thank them for coming to share our grief and offering their support in our time of need,” Kellen said.
My sister always seemed to have the right words to say. But, I knew what she was thinking on the inside as her thoughts often echoed my own.
The pig tugged me along, content to root about the forest for whatever he smelled. Thanks to his nose, I had two dark mushrooms in my pocket. Judith would know what to do with them.
“Come, Mr. Pig,” I said. “It’s time for us to return home.”
He stopped his rooting and looked up at me. I disliked the way it sometimes seemed as if he was thinking. Pigs didn’t think. They couldn’t. If I ever let myself believe they did, I’d never be able to eat bacon again.
A thud echoed through the barren trees, quickly followed by another. Frowning, I started toward the noise, glad for a reason not to return home. While spring was still struggling to make its presence known with gusty, cool winds, here in the shelter of the estate’s forest, the breeze was mild and the temperature almost pleasant. Walking amongst the trees was much preferable to being shut in the house for another day.
The pig, however, didn’t seem to be of the same mind. Before I took more than a few steps, he balked, tugging the rope from my hand.
“Go then. I’m sure some hunter would enjoy spotting you alone in the woods.”
He let out a loud squeal, and I quickly shushed him.
“We don’t know who is ahead. You’re not the only one who might be accosted by wayward hunters.” I picked up the rope. “Your silence might earn you an extra handful of grain when we return.”
When he remained silent, I started forward again, weaving my way through the trees to find the source of the continuous sound. When we reached the tall oak that marked the boundary of our small estate, I hesitated. I knew very well what lay ahead and who I might find. Well, not who exactly.
My curiosity getting the better of me, I continued north. It didn’t take long before I spotted a man through the trees.
Like when Hugh labored with the earth, this man wore no shirt while laboring to cut wood. Unlike Hugh, this man’s back wasn’t pale. It was golden and rippled in a captivating fashion with each swing of his ax.
“Stay here,” I said absently to the pig, needing to move closer.
I crept forward on silent feet, watching the man work. Steam rose off of his torso, and his skin glistened in the early morning light. Though I wasn’t close enough to see any detail in his features, my pulse sped with appreciation of what I could see. He had a handsome form to be sure.
If this was an example of the king’s men, I hoped the king was prepared to stay at the Royal Retreat a good long while.
The man stopped suddenly and grabbed his shirt from a nearby log, wiping the sweat from his face. I waited in anticipation for him to turn, but he did not. Instead, he threw his shirt aside and reached for a water skin. When he tipped his head back to drink, the sunlight caught on his brown hair, turning it bronze.
My fingers twitched against the bark of the tree that hid me. What would he do if I stepped out and introduced myself? Probably think me wanton. Better to wait for him to be fully clothed.
Smiling to myself, I carefully backed away and almost tripped on the pig. Only nimble reflexes saved me from a fall and an awkward explanation. Scowling at the pig, I picked up his rope and quietly made my way back to the estate border.
My thoughts lingered on the man and his muscled torso. The moment that he swung and sun dappled his back, highlighting every ridge, repeated over and over in my mind. My cheeks warmed. Never before had I been so affected by a man. I knew a pretty face could hide an unsuitable character. But it wasn’t his face that had your heart racing, I thought, my wistful smile returning.
The pig grunted and bumped into me.
“What?” I didn’t like the way he was knowingly looking at me. “Who I look at is none of your concern. Now, do you want your grain or not?”
I gave the rope a tug, and he meekly followed me back to the house where I fed him a small portion of grain in his pen.
“Eloise,” Kellen said from just behind me, making me jump.
When I turned to scowl at her, I caught the lingering hint of amusement.
“Are you here to startle me, or do you have a purpose?”
“A purpose. The first guest of the day has arrived. Would you like to go for a walk?”
In the three days since Maeve had entered our lives, Kellen and I had settled into an awkward routine. The awkwardness was due to our struggle to contrive tasks to keep ourselves occupied. Reading aloud without Mother there to listen seemed pointles
s and sad. The same with playing the piano. So Kellen and I found small things to do. I took care of the animals, which required very little of my time. And, Kellen organized the attic. When those tasks grew wearisome, we visited Mother’s grave.
“A walk sounds nice,” I said, dusting my hands off on my apron.
We gave the house wide berth and slipped into the trees. My thoughts went to the man in the woods, and I briefly considered sharing the story with Kellen. However, given the reason behind this second walk, I decided to save the tale for later.
“Who is the first visitor?” I asked instead.
“I’m not certain. I slipped out through the kitchen and avoided the introductions. Some Lady or someone from a House of something or other.”
“Probably here for the lemon tarts,” I said. Judith made the best sweets. My mouth watered just thinking of the pastries that waited in cold storage
“Judith was counting the pastries this morning.”
I grinned. Kellen knew I’d snuck down there yesterday to snitch one.
“Did she say anything?”
“Only that you were going to get fat.”
I laughed.
My humor faded, however, when we reached the clearing, and I saw Mother’s grave. Since her death, there were moments where I’d forget that Kellen and I were alone in the world. Then, some jarring reminder would shatter that fragile peace. It felt like the grieving would never end.
Kellen and I sat on the wooden bench that Hugh had placed there for us.
As I stared at the mound of dirt, I wished Mother was still with us. That Father was away on a normal business trip. And that Maeve, no matter how kind she was, wasn’t living with us. In essence, I wanted the safety and ignorance of my old life to return.
The birdsong in the trees grew louder, and I thought of Mother’s message to me. I tried to remind myself she was still with us in spirit, but it was too hard to hold such an unproven belief.
“It seems like it grew two inches overnight,” Kellen said, jarring me from my thoughts.
“What has?”
Even as I asked, my gaze went to the pear tree. It remained nothing more than a single twig jutting from the ground, but Kellen was right. It did appear taller. I got up to look at the sapling closer and noted the buds were bigger as well.