by M. J. Haag
“I’m glad it seems to be growing. It’s like a piece of Father is here to watch over her, don’t you think?”
I turned in time to catch Kellen’s angry expression before she closed herself off again.
“There’s no purpose in holding your anger,” I said. “He’s gone, and so is she. We cannot change how things are; we can only choose to accept them and move on.”
“Move on,” she said. “For what? A marriage to a man who will leave us just as readily as Father did?”
I returned to Kellen and set my head on her shoulder.
“Who said anything about us marrying some soddy men? We can make our own futures, can we not? Perhaps we should travel? We can pose as spinsters and see what lies to the north.”
Kellen snorted, amused by my daydream. She set her head against mine.
“Let me hold my anger for a little while,” she said. “I do so on Mother’s behalf for she was never angry with Father a day in her life. And she should have been. At least twice.”
“Twice?”
“The day he missed our birth and the day he missed her death. It’s warranted.”
My chest tightened, and my throat closed for a moment as I struggled with my own pain. When I finally spoke, my voice was soft.
“It’s a fair request. However, you’ve already carried your anger for seven days. I think that’s sufficient. It’s time to let it go.”
She sighed.
“If I let it go, I have nothing left to do with myself. I miss her terribly.”
“Me, too. Perhaps it’s time we decided on new hobbies. Or we could always attend a gathering or two. Become renowned gossips. Think of all the cakes we could eat.”
Kellen snorted again.
“Tomorrow I’ll go to town and see what new books I can find.”
The bookstore was a safe distance from the market, which meant it was a haven for Kellen.
“Books instead of cakes?” I said. “It’s like I don’t even know you, sister.”
“You know me better than anyone. Would you like me to find a book for you, or will you come with me?”
“I’ll be at your side, of course. Those boorish boys in the market aren’t to be trusted, and my aim is far better than yours.”
She chuckled then quieted. We sat like that for a long time, both lost in our own thoughts, before hunger drove us back to the house. Judith had a simple midday meal prepared for us when we arrived.
While we ate, Judith and Anne worked quietly. Their lack of conversation made it painfully obvious someone still remained in the sitting room with Maeve. I wondered if it was the same person who had arrived earlier but didn’t ask. It didn’t matter who was here, only why they were here.
After lunch, Kellen and I went upstairs. Kellen entered Father’s room to look over his collection of books to see if there was anything that might interest her. She’d never intruded on his space before. That she did so now could only mean she thought he wasn’t coming back.
Leaving her to her quiet, I lay on my bed and pondered her questions of what was next for us. For all of my silly play about traveling, I wasn’t yet ready to leave Towdown. There were questions that needed answers. Questions I’d tried to ignore but knew I couldn’t. I needed to find the person responsible for robbing us of our family. I needed to know who had sent the necklace.
But not yet. First, I needed Kellen to choose her path in life. I needed to know she would be safe from any repercussions. Then, I could choose my own way and damn the consequences.
Sitting up, I checked the hall then carefully closed the door before kneeling at the end of my bed. I folded back the rug and pried up the floor board. It was a space I’d discovered many years ago. It had never held anything of importance because everything I had, I willingly shared with Kellen and Mother.
However, it had been the perfect place to keep the necklace. A safe place so no one would touch it and suffer the same fate as Mother.
Carefully reaching in, I unfolded the soft leather in which I’d wrapped the pendant.
The necklace was gone.
Chapter Five
I knelt there and stared at the hidey-hole in confusion. How could the necklace be missing?
Grabbing the empty piece of leather, I replaced the board and righted the rug. The necklace didn’t disappear on its own. I left the room and found Kellen still in Father’s bedroom, looking at his meager collection of fictional stories amidst his accounting books.
She looked up as I entered.
“Unless I’m interested in reading the history of our accumulated wealth, or lack thereof, I’m afraid there isn’t much here for me.”
I closed the door so no one would overhear us.
“Please tell me you’re not wearing it,” I said in a hushed tone.
She frowned at me, her confusion clear.
“Wearing what?”
“The necklace. The green one that arrived for Mother. I had it in the hiding spot in the floor, and it’s gone.” I held out the empty piece of leather as proof.
“I didn’t take it.” She glanced at the leather then met my gaze. “Why did you hide it away if you didn’t want any of Mother’s jewelry as a reminder?”
There was no censure. Only my sister trying to understand my motivations.
“I didn’t want the reminder.” I sighed. “It’s hard to explain. It was the last thing she received. It just felt important and private.”
I couldn’t lie to my sister. I never could. That was why all of what I said was true; yet, none of it came close to the truth.
“I understand,” Kellen said. “Let’s ask Judith and Anne.”
However, Judith and Anne hadn’t seen the necklace while tidying our room.
“You know how things are here,” Judith said. “You can hear mice scratching in the walls at night. If you put a trinket in your hidey-hole, there’s a chance that a mouse might have taken off with it. They like shiny things. We need a cat.”
I knew she was right. Not about the cat but about the mice. The necklace wasn’t the first item to go missing because of the cute pests. But, it was by far the most important. I should have known not to tempt fate by putting the necklace in the floor.
Angry with my own foolishness, I left the house alone. The wind tugged at my cloak as I walked toward Mother’s grave. Having already visited with her today, I didn’t stop again. Instead, I carried on through the trees, wandering the familiar woods.
Animals skittered through the underbrush, making way for my passing. Some scolded me with their little, outraged chitters. Normally, I would have been amused and paused to talk back to them. But, I couldn’t. Not today. I was too angry.
How could I have been so careless? That necklace had been my one piece of proof that my mother hadn’t died of a natural cause. Without it, the person responsible would never be brought to justice. Proof, when dealing with magic, was the key. Even with proof, things might have ended badly for me. However, without proof, my quest to find answers was over before it ever began.
I kicked at a fallen branch.
No, I couldn’t think like that. The necklace wasn’t gone forever. Just misplaced. If there were vermin in the house, they had to have a nest somewhere. I only needed to find it.
I was so lost in thought that the sudden, loud voice just in front of me took me by surprise.
“Leave now, by order of the king.”
Startled, I jumped back as I looked up. My heel slipped, and I tumbled backward. Time slowed as our gazes locked. Though I hadn't glimpsed his face earlier, I recognized the man.
The dark blue eyes of the nap-headed scoundrel held mine. He had the audacity to smirk as I landed with a soft splat on the spring-dampened ground. A cold moisture seeped through my skirts and chilled my backside.
Stunned, I stared up at the man as he leaned on his walking stick. Close to my age, he was far more handsome than he had a right to be. His broad shoulders were properly covered by a rough coat this time, but my pulse n
evertheless skipped a beat as I recalled how he looked without it. However, since I wasn’t sure if his humor was meant to be shared or at my expense, I refused to give my attraction to the man any due.
“Did you intend to send me flying into the mud?” I asked.
“I find that’s where most of your kind belong.”
My mouth dropped open, and my already frayed temper ignited. He was just like all the other pretty faces in town.
“You are a boorish ass,” I said, setting my hands on the ground to hoist myself up. I ignored the squish of mud between my fingers and the surprised lift to his brows.
“Boorish ass?”
“Yes. Are you hard of hearing?”
I struggled to my feet, regretting that I hadn’t noted the wet ground before my fall. His smirk widened with growing amusement each time I slipped and dirtied myself further. When I finally won my footing back with no offer of help from him, I was ready to throw a rock at his head. I could already imagine the hollow sound it would make when it connected.
“I do suppose braying ass would suit you better,” I said with deceptive calm as I shook as much mud as I could from my skirts.
His humor fled, and he frowned at me.
“You have no right to call me anything,” he said, once again sounding high-handed. “I am not the one trespassing.”
How ridiculously presumptuous of him. This time, it was I who wore the smirk.
“Are you sure about that? This is the king’s land. While I indeed have permission to be here, I doubt you do. It would be in your best interest to flee before I summon the king’s guard.”
He tilted his head to consider me. The vivid blue of his eyes held me for a moment, and I once again found myself slipping into the pleasantness of his visage…until disdain flooded his expression.
“You have permission?” Doubt laced his every word.
I averted my gaze and started looking at the ground for a rock. Surely, the spring thaw would be kind enough to grace me with one. It didn’t need to be large. Just big enough to knock some sense into the nit.
As I searched, I answered him.
“Yes, I live here. I’m Eloise Cartwright.”
“Ah. I see.”
The flat tone devoid of any emotion demanded my attention. Lacking a rock, I decided to show this bore his place using the sharp edge of my tongue.
“You probably couldn’t see something if it were on the tip of your nose,” I said. “Now, who are you?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
I snorted.
“As I would expect a person guilty of trespassing to say. Go away, fiend. Leave the king’s land while you still stand.”
He barked out a laugh.
“Are you always this abrasive?” he asked.
“When covered in mud and dealing with an overbearing—”
“Do not call me an ass again.”
“Wouldn’t think of it. Pig.”
His expression darkened.
“That’s not to your liking, either? As you’ve given me no other name to call you by, Officious Grunting Pig it shall be.” I smirked.
“You have a viper’s tongue.”
“And you have the slow wit of a cod fish. Lacking any decency, you’ve proven yourself to be beneath me.”
“Beneath you?”
“Please do try to keep up with this conversation. Or must I speak slower?”
Pink invaded his cheeks, and I knew I’d won this battle.
“You are most fortunate I’m a decent man, or I would see you beaten.”
I snorted.
“Any decent person would introduce himself. You started this by yelling in my face and tossing accusations about.”
His nostrils flared in his anger, but then, to my surprise, he bowed low.
“The name’s Kaven,” he said.
I barely heard. My gaze was fixated on the crest adorning his cap. It was the same crest that the delivery boy had worn. All righteous pride at besting this man fled, replaced by the cold, convicted anger filling my chest.
“What is that?” I demanded.
He straightened to give me a quizzical look.
“The crest on your hat. What does it mean? Who is it for?”
The suspicion returned to his gaze.
“It’s the king’s crest. How can you claim to live on these lands and not know the king’s crest?”
I didn’t answer. My mind was racing. What did it mean that a king’s messenger delivered the necklace that killed my mother? It made no sense. We were on the king’s land by his decree. Why would the king favor us with land then kill one of us?
Kaven, reached out, gripping my arms.
“Answer me, woman.”
That snapped me from my thoughts.
“I know nothing of the king’s crest because my mother forbade us from walking the woods when the king was in residence. Now, unhand me.”
His eyes narrowed.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care what you believe. You truly are a beast. How many more of you are there at the lodge?” I asked.
His grip tightened.
“Why do you want to know?”
“So I know how many people the king has brought to push me into the mud and torment me,” I lied, trying to pull myself free from his steel grasp.
He didn’t budge.
I stomped on the arch of his foot.
“Release me,” I demanded.
He did so immediately and scowled at me.
“Go home, Eloise Cartwright. Listen to your mother’s wise words.”
I hated him. I hated all who’d come with him. And I vowed to find the necklace, the boy who delivered it, and the person responsible for it all. Even if that person was the king himself.
“Do not speak of my mother. She died the day after you arrived,” I said glaring.
His anger vanished from his face. Nothing replaced it. No sympathy or pity.
“How?” he asked.
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t tell what I knew. Not with him wearing the king’s crest. No one would believe me that the king sent the magic amulet. Even speaking of the amulet would get me killed.
“My mother’s health has been failing for years,” I said instead.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded distrustful. His next words confirmed it.
“Where is she buried?”
“In the clearing behind our home. She liked the trees and sunlight on her face.”
Something shifted in his eyes, but I couldn’t tell what.
“Tell me, Kaven. For how long must I avoid the woods I’ve called home?”
“I do not know.”
He turned and left me standing in the woods, mud drying to my skirts. The birds started singing after a moment, and the small animals in the underbrush chittered at me.
“Nothing good will come of this,” I said, thinking of Kaven’s crest. The king’s crest.
Father’s warning to let go of what I knew rang in my ears once more. I'd thought I could wait until Kellen and I grieved, and she chose the future she wanted before I pursued answers. However, I now understood that I couldn’t. Mother deserved more. Father had already abandoned her. I would not.
The walk home was cold and wearying. Thankfully, there were no visitors to spot my disheveled state when I slipped into the kitchen.
Judith looked up from whatever she was stirring over the fire.
“Eloise, what happened, child?”
“The spring mud tested my agile step and showed me that I was lacking. I think a washing is in order.”
Her gaze swept me from head to foot.
“The mud is in your hair, too. A simple washing will not do. A full bath is needed. Sit on the stool. Anne and I will start drawing water.”
The pair had the tub before the fire and half-filled before the kitchen door opened again. Kellen walked in and stopped abruptly at the sight of me.
“Siste
r, did the pig drag you through the mud?”
I grinned.
“Why, yes. A pig did do this. Unfortunately, not our sweet pig. However, you’ve just given me a brilliant idea for a name for our dear pig.”
“Oh?”
“What do you think of Kaven?”
She tilted her head and gave me a quizzical look.
“I sense a story. Would you like me to help wash your hair while you tell it?”
“Please.”
Judith and Anne left the kitchen to give us privacy. Kellen helped me out of my muddy things and started removing clumps of mud from my hair as I slipped into the tub of warm water and washed my arms and face.
“Who is Kaven?” she asked.
“A dolt I met in the trees behind our house. He startled me so badly I slipped and fell. Then, the boor didn’t even have the manners to help me up. Instead, he began accusing me of trespassing. He was completely rude.”
“Sounds like the boys in the market.”
“Very much so,” I agreed. Only this one had made my heart race and may have had a hand in Mother's death. I pushed that thought from my mind as Kellen answered.
“Then, of course we will name the pig after him. I’ve removed as much of the mud as I can. Now, you need to go under.”
I looked at the murky water and sighed.
“I wish it was warmer out. Bathing at the pond would be infinitely more enjoyable.”
Kellen made a sound of agreement, which stopped abruptly as I ducked under the water. Her fingers threaded in my hair, removing more mud as I held my breath. Being underwater was one of the things I liked about the pond. Nothing but fish could touch me. No sight or sound from the real world. It was an escape from troubling thoughts. One that Kellen and I enjoyed during the sweltering heat of summer.
When I reemerged, Kellen started soaping my hair.
“While you were out playing in mud, I was in the attic,” she said. “I found something interesting in one of the trunks pushed into a dark corner.”
“What’s that?”
“Letters to Mother from an old friend. Do you recall Mother ever mentioning an Elspeth?”