by J. E. Taylor
Everything snapped into place in my head. The late nights, the moving of all Mother’s things. He was courting this woman.
He glanced up and smiled at me. “Elle, I would like you to meet Lady Githa, my new bride, and her daughter Lily,” he said, and stepped aside, revealing a girl a few years younger than me.
My brain stalled at the phrase ‘my new bride’. I stared at the woman and her taunting smile as she gave me the once-over. Her daughter blushed, dropping her gaze.
My mouth couldn’t form words, not even a hello. My body remained stock-still when I should have given the new lady of the house a curtsy as formality dictated. But none of the manners both my mother and father taught me came to the surface. I was too stunned.
“Elle?”
My father’s question contained a warning, which snapped me out of my shocked paralysis. I bent into a weak curtsy and forced a smile.
“Welcome,” I managed to croak out.
My father left his new bride’s arm and crossed to me to take hold of my elbow. “I know this is a shock, but I didn’t know how else to tell you. I fell in love, and I didn’t want to spend another night alone. As for you, I expect you to obey her as you would have obeyed your mother, understand?”
I nodded because I had no other choice. I was still thunderstruck.
“Be a dear and collect our things?” Lady Githa asked as if I were one of the servants.
I glanced at my father, and he raised an eyebrow, nodding his head towards the carriage.
“Yes, my lady,” I said, although I was not very happy playing the role of her house maid.
Lily smiled weakly, but it wasn’t malicious. She turned to follow me outside.
“Not you, dear. Let Elle get our things while Lord Seeley shows us to our rooms.”
Lily glanced at me and pressed her lips together in a frown. She shrugged and followed her mother’s instruction, leaving me to collect their things by myself. Normally, I did not mind helping around the house, but the dismissive nature of Lady Githa nipped at my nerves.
I lugged her bags up the stairs and stood in the hallway, unable to bring this woman’s bags over the threshold of the bedroom my parents shared for seventeen years of my life. I could hear the woman gushing over the tapestries and the view from the window. I dropped her bag at the entrance and turned to continue unpacking the carriage.
Lily’s things were less bountiful, and as I crossed the hall to deposit her bags in the guest room, Lady Githa stepped out into the hall.
“This room will do for Lily,” she said, waving towards my room.
“I’m sorry, but that is my room,” I said.
My father stood behind her, his eyes wide like a deer who had caught the scent of a predator.
“Githa,” he said softly.
She turned on him. “You said we had the choice of rooms for Lily. Well, I choose this one.”
“But...” My father seemed to be at a loss for words, looking between his new bride and me.
“It’s okay, Mother,” Lily whispered.
“You said you liked the room. Do you?” Lady Githa snapped.
“Of course. It is a beautiful room, Mother. But...” Lily stared down at the floor.
“Lily gets this room,” Lady Githa said.
I started towards the room and Lady Githa stepped in my path.
“I would like to get my things.” I met my step-mother’s glare, trying not to send back as searing a look of my own. I wasn’t sure I managed to keep the fire from my eyes because her lips pressed tighter together, and her nostrils flared.
“It is no longer your room,” she said.
There was such a dark undercurrent radiating from her that I moved back, distancing myself from the wrath rolling from her skin. My father idly stood by while this woman brushed me aside, and I wondered if this was some sort of retribution for my questioning him about Mother’s things the other day.
Instead of arguing, I turned and took my leave. I would figure out what room to occupy as soon as I cooled down. I wandered to the courtyard and headed straight towards the sword rack. The wooden training blade felt good in my hands. I started doing the forms the squire had taught me, concentrating on my steps and the presentation of the weapon.
After doing four different forms, I started over again. In the middle of my next set, a gasp sounded behind me. I turned to see a wide-eyed Lily with one hand over her mouth and the other over her heart.
Sweat pasted the edges of my hair to my cheeks. I lowered the sword.
“What are you doing?” she whispered and glanced furtively over her shoulder.
“Practicing.” Based on the fear etched into her features, I decided to put my training weapon in the rack. I brushed my hair back and turned in time to see Lady Githa step into the courtyard.
She stared down her sharp nose at me, and her face seemed to pinch, like she had smelled something bad.
“You’re not preparing dinner?” she said.
I shook my head. “The cook prepares dinner.”
“There is no cook. I asked your father to let the staff go because there really is no need to keep paying wages to an idle staff, especially since this place isn’t big enough to warrant having butlers, maids, cooks, and footmen,” she said.
I glanced up at the two-story building before bringing my gaze back to hers. From her expression, I could guess who she thought would be doing all the work.
“I am not sure my meals are fit for eating,” I said. While I knew how to bake cookies, I didn’t know the first thing about cooking a meal.
“Well, come child, it is time you learn how to prepare meals for a family.” She waved me over with a smile.
I reluctantly stepped closer, mystified at how her smile made all the difference in appearances. I caught a glimpse of why my father could have fallen for this woman. But that ended the minute I got to her side.
She reached out and grabbed my wrist in a viper hold, nearly dragging me out of the courtyard, down the narrow hall, and to the kitchen. She rambled on about how creating scrumptious meals was an important household task, as was keeping the place clean and orderly. Not once did she talk about the importance of being properly educated in the ways of the world.
In great detail, she instructed me on how to construct a meat pie big enough to feed the four of us. I boiled a chunk of beef that the cook had left in a pot of clean water. Then I chopped dates and nuts into fine pieces. Luckily, all my fingers remained intact when I was through.
Next, I peeled potatoes at Githa’s direction and boiled those after I lit the stove warmers. With all the ingredients cooking, she then walked me through making a pie crust. That was work in and of itself. Once I had the dough rolled out, I fit it into a pie pan and collected the wine and spices Githa spouted off.
Then we waited until she deemed the meat suitable for cutting. I sliced it, added the dates, nuts, and a little wine before mixing it together. The mound in the pie tin warranted a little more rolling of the dough in order to cover it.
When I finished prepping the pie to her specifications, I slid it into the open oven. Wiping my forehead, I leaned back against the counter, dripping with sweat and soot from the fire under the stove.
“Keep that fire hot, and in three hours, the pie should be ready.”
Lady Githa turned on her heel and left me to tend the stove. Lily followed her out and gave me a meek smile as she left the room. My feet hurt and all I wanted was a bath to wash away the sweat, but I had to make sure the fire and temperature remained steady.
Instead of just being idle while the dinner cooked, I made myself useful and baked my mother’s favorite pastry. Honey cakes. I hummed the same tune my mother did whenever she overtook the kitchen to make her sweet treats.
Birds fluttered to the window and joined in the melody, making my task seem much lighter than moments before. I finished my baking preparations and added more wood to the stove before I slid the honey cakes into the oven beside the meat pie.
When I stepped back into the kitchen, my father was waiting for me by the preparation table. He stared in contemplation at the oven. The deep creases around his mouth gave me a start. It was almost the same expression he had the day I won the sparring contest with the squire.
I knew he didn’t have good news.
He gave the slightest shake of his head before he broke out in a smile. “Elle, it smells divine.” He waved towards the oven.
“It wasn’t as hard to make as I imagined.” I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and leaned against the table. “But you aren’t here to compliment my cooking skills, are you?”
He chuckled under his breath and gave me a sideways glance. “No. I have to go to Dover in the morning.”
I had forgotten all about the Dover trip and the cattle market. He had spoken to me about this annual event shortly after mother died and had said we would go together so I could get a sense of a large marketplace. My skin tingled with excitement and I grinned.
My father’s heavy sigh made the smile on my face fade, and the happy tingle turned into a rock that dropped into my stomach. I swallowed and stared at him.
“I know. I know you’re disappointed. But you need to stay here and help Lady Githa get settled. Can you do that for me?” he asked.
His eyes were filled with a dread I had never seen before, as if he thought I would make a mess of his life. It tore me up from the inside, creating a hot pain that nearly doubled me over. I did not want to cause my father such angst.
“Yes, Father,” I whispered and dropped my gaze.
“And you’ll follow her rules?” he added, his eyebrows arching and his voice lilting higher with the question.
I nodded.
“No matter how ridiculous you may think they are?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes. I will not question her authority as you feel I have questioned yours.”
The apprehension melted from his face, and a genuine smile formed in its stead. He grabbed my hands and squeezed gently. “Thank you. I know this must be hard, but we will work out all the kinks when I return. I promise.”
DINNER WENT SMOOTHLY, and I had another glimpse of why my father fell under this woman’s spell. She charmed as if it came naturally. However, I caught the edge in her in a simple sideways glare. I didn’t want to cause my father anymore dread than I already had, so I played along despite the unease settling in my bones.
“I made dessert,” I said after everyone finished their fill of the meat pie.
The corners of Lady Githa’s lips turned downward, and her eyes narrowed.
Before she opened her mouth to spew whatever thoughts caused dark clouds in her eyes, I stood and hustled into the kitchen to retrieve the honey cakes. I turned with the bite-size pieces displayed proudly on a platter and nearly ran into Lady Githa.
“You did not clear this with me,” she spat out like I was delivering spoiled meat instead of dessert.
My eyebrows shot up. I glanced at my tray and back to her lips pressed together until her anger bloomed in her cheeks. I didn’t know how to respond.
“I- I’m sorry,” I muttered and dropped my gaze.
“Before you use precious resources on such frivolous things, you will check with me first. Understand?”
I nodded.
She turned, swinging the door open and adopting that glowing smile as she waved me into the dining room. “Elle has made some lovely pastries for us.”
The switch in personas had me blinking in confusion, but I stepped into the dining room with my meager offerings and set them on the table. My appetite vanished, and I just picked at my serving. No matter how hard I tried to eat the honey cake, I couldn’t. From what the others stated, it was divine, but I couldn’t get past the venom that had been in my step-mother’s voice.
After dinner, I was left to clean up by order of the new lady of the house. My father wouldn’t even look at me as she issued the request. I stood in the kitchen staring at the stack of dirty dishware. All I wanted to do was soak in a tub to scrub off the smoke and sweat that had accumulated on my skin. Instead, I had to search for the cleaning bin and start scrubbing the dishes, silverware, and pots until they all gleamed like the rest of the utensils and pans.
By the time I crawled into the guest room bed, my muscles ached worse than I could ever remember, even more than the first time I sparred with a sword. While my eyelids remained heavy, sleep evaded me. Every time I rolled, I clenched my teeth against a moan of discomfort.
I finally drifted off when the night was at its darkest, but my sleep was riddled with nightmare after horrid nightmare.
Chapter 4
My father rode off at morning light with half a dozen of our cows tied to the back of the cart. I stood in the road until I could no longer see him and then turned back to the house. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, bringing forth uneasiness.
Lily crossed the distance between the door and stopped next to me, staring at the road as well. She reeked of nervous energy, like the absence of my father meant dark times. When she finally glanced at me, her lips twitched into a smile before it disappeared.
“Momma wants to speak to you,” she said with a soft voice.
I took one last look down the road and a glance at the storm clouds before I stepped inside our home. The minute I closed the door, Lady Githa marched into the hallway with her arms crossed and a sneer that sent a shiver through me.
Father’s words echoed in my mind as I stared my stepmother down. I took a breath, calming the bristling inside me before I tried on a smile. “What can I do for you, my lady?”
“The house needs cleaning, and I expect breakfast in the next hour.” She turned and strutted off.
I bit my tongue and headed into the kitchen. What I really wanted to do was go down to the stream and just sit quietly in the sun while I digested this huge change in our lives. Instead, I was Lady Githa’s servant, and while I wanted to tell her to sod off, I couldn’t. Not with the promise I made to my father yesterday.
I gathered grains and almond milk and attempted to make porridge, sweetening it with a little honey. When it was bubbling hot and thick, I poured it into three bowls, carrying it into the dining room where both Lily and Lady Githa sat expectantly. I passed out the bowls and took a seat on the opposite side of the table from Lily with my bowl.
Lady Githa cleared her throat just as I reached for my bowl.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Eating.” The answer came automatically. The edge in my voice didn’t go unnoticed.
Lady Githa’s eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. “Not in here with us.”
My eyebrows rose and my mouth popped open. I stared at her, dumbfounded. Where exactly did she expect me to eat?
She pointed towards the kitchen. “You eat in there while your father is gone.”
Any doubts of where I landed in the family vanished with her statement. I was no better than a hired hand, and it rubbed me wrong. But instead of creating any more animosity by speaking my mind, I stood and picked up my bowl, retreating into the kitchen while my hands shook enough to slosh the porridge in the dish. I staunched the urge to throw my breakfast across the room. Instead, I brought the bowl to my lips and slurped my meal. My body needed food, and I was sure if I went without it, my day would be much more grueling.
As soon as I finished my food, I dropped the bowl near the washing pot and turned, heading out the back door into the field and the brook. I climbed up on the rock and hugged my knees as I stared at the running water. The chill in the air penetrated all the way through my clothing, and I clenched my jaw agains
t my chattering teeth.
The sun penetrated the dark clouds for a moment, sending slivers of light over the land, like a beacon of hope. But it left as quickly as it came. Darkness covered the land, and lightning painted the sky just before the clouds opened up, letting rain fall in buckets. I stood, tilting my face into the beating drops, relishing the clean feeling of water running through my hair.
When lightning spiked through the sky, striking a boulder on the other side of the brook, I jumped off my perch and headed back home.
I slid through the back of the kitchen and closed the door gently. My clothing dripped on the floor, leaving a puddle wherever I stepped. I crossed to the doorway leading to the dining area and pushed open the door. The room was empty, and I crossed to the stairwell. I needed to get out of these wet clothes before I caught a death of a cold.
I made it halfway up the staircase.
“Where have you been?”
The harsh voice froze me in my tracks. I glanced over my shoulder at Lady Githa’s red face. I swore fire spit from her eyes, and she peeled her lips back in a sneer.
“I went for a walk,” I answered, keeping my voice steady.
“You are not entitled to a walk. Not while your chores are still outstanding.” She marched up the steps and grabbed my arm, dragging me into the guest room where she released me and pulled a bamboo rod as long as my forearm from her pocket. She gripped the end of it so hard, her knuckles went white.
I had seen less patient riders use a similar tool to smack their horses to get them to move faster. What I saw in Lady Githa’s eyes matched the intensity of those crazed riders.
I took a step back, splaying my hands out in front of me. “What are you doing?”
“Knees. Now,” she barked.
“I don’t think so,” I said, taking another step. Neither my mother nor my father ever raised a hand to me, but I had seen enough of it in the town market to understand what this woman had in mind.