Autumn's Touch

by Elizabeth Rose

  “Oh. I see. Ye’re afraid ye willna live up to the name of Ravenscar in front of yer men.”

  “That’s not it. I can’t start treating servants like nobles. It just isn’t right.”

  “Do ye even ken what is right and wrong anymore? Dinna forget I ken ye better than anyone, Benedict. It is plain as the nose on my face that ye are tryin’ to be someone ye’re no’.”

  “I am Ravenscar now. I don’t need to pretend.” He felt anger growing within him by her comments.

  “When ye want somethin’, ye will hurt anyone to get it, willna ye?”

  “Stop it, Nairnie!” He realized she was talking about the time in his life when he was a child and left her. He’d never told her why, nor did he ever return or try to contact her afterward. He couldn’t do that, but she wouldn’t understand. He didn’t have time for this right now. He wanted to plan the celebration for Autumn before she returned. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I need your help planning a celebration for Lady Autumn’s birthday today.”

  “Losh me,” she said, hitting herself on the head. “I forgot it is the lassie’s birthday. She is goin’ to be very depressed being away from her family.”

  “Nay, she won’t. I’ll make certain of that.”

  “Benedict Grenfell,” said Nairnie, squinting her eyes and putting her hands on her hips. “If that’s what I think it means, ye just get the idea outta yer head right now.”

  “I don’t know what you think I mean, but I’m just planning a special meal and some entertainment to celebrate Autumn turning into a woman.”

  “Ye keep yer fingers outta that pie, laddie. She doesna need yer help turnin’ into a woman. I heard ye already kissed her.”

  “She told you?” This was not at all what he wanted to hear. Nairnie was like a mother to him. No one wanted their mother knowing their secrets of what they did with the ladies.

  “She tells me everythin’. There are no secrets between us, so keep that in mind before ye try kissin’ her again.”

  “What I do is my business.”

  “No’ if ye’re goin’ to have her lose her heart to ye and then break it by leavin’ her without sayin’ a word why.”

  “This has to do with us, doesn’t it, Nairnie? I want you to know I didn’t leave you just to break your heart.”

  “I dinna want to hear it.” She raised her hand in the air. “Now tell me what ye want for the feast. If we’re goin’ to plan a celebration fit for a noblewoman we have a lot of work to do.”

  * * *

  “Oh my!” exclaimed Autumn when she walked behind the mews to find a very overgrown patch of land. The weeds and plants were shoulder high. Benedict wasn’t jesting!

  “I’m goin’ to play dice, too,” said Rab, turning around to leave.

  “No, you’re not.” She grabbed the boy by the shoulders. “I need help cleaning out this mess. I want you to tell Enar and Torkel to come help us, and to bring shovels and a cart.”

  “Do I have to?” The little boy crinkled his nose.

  “Didn’t you hear Lord Ravenscar say he would be sending pallets for each of you up to the tower room?”

  “Aye.”

  “Whoever helps me the most gets to choose their pallet and pillow and blanket first. They can also put it anywhere in the room they want.”

  “I’ll get them!” he said, hurrying off to find the boys.

  A little reluctant, all three of the boys returned with the cart and tools she’d asked for within minutes.

  “Why do we have to do this?” complained Torkel. “Are we bein’ punished for playin’ dice?”

  “If you don’t help me, I’ll tell Lord Ravenscar about the dice game and then you will be punished.” She figured a little fear thrown in wasn’t that bad of a thing.

  “We’ll do it,” said Enar, grabbing a shovel. “Where do ye want us to dig?”

  They worked for hours in the garden, all of them hot, sweaty and dirty by the time they finished. Autumn was thrilled to find lavender, rosemary, sage, mint, and even rue growing beneath the tangled mess. She’d become so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even mind that Benedict’s little, white dog was running around the garden, rolling in the herbs, and barking.

  “Hush,” she told the dog.

  “That’s Bailey. He likes to get lost in the weeds back here,” said Enar. “Once it took us days to find him.”

  They’d only managed to uncover half the garden today, but she was excited to see what they’d discover tomorrow. They were getting ready to go back to the castle when Rab pointed to a robin sitting on a nest in the shrub not far from them.

  “Look!” he said. “A birdie.”

  “I’ll get rid of it.” Torkel picked up a rock.

  “Nay! Don’t you dare!” Autumn gave the boy the meanest look she could muster up and put her hands on her hips. “That is a mother robin sitting on her eggs.”

  “Let’s eat the eggs,” said Enar. “I’m hungry.”

  “Ye’re always hungry,” said Rab.

  “Stop it. All of you,” Autumn scolded. “I think if you actually saw what I’m talking about you might have a little more compassion.” When the robin flew out of the nest to look for worms, Autumn took the opportunity to show the boys what she meant. She motioned for them to follow her, holding her finger up to her lips to keep them quiet. They got to the nest and she peered inside to see four reddish-brown, speckled eggs. “She’s got four eggs.”

  The older two boys were able to see into the nest by standing on their tiptoes, but Rab was too short.

  “I want to see, too,” he whined, jumping up and down.

  “Look quickly, because if the mother returns, she’s not going to be happy.” She picked up the boy and let him peek into the nest.

  “What’s going on?” Autumn turned to see Benedict walking into the garden with his squire at his side. Two medium-sized dogs followed at his heels. They ran over and started sniffing the air by the nest. The robin scolded them and flew back and forth over their heads.

  “Take the dogs out of here,” said Autumn. “There’s a robin’s nest and she’s got eggs.”

  “Oh, good, we can add them to the dinner feast I’ve planned,” said Benedict, stretching his neck to look into the nest.

  “Nay, you can’t,” she said, appalled, putting Rab back on the ground.

  “Boys, go jump in the lake,” said Benedict.

  “Lord Ravenscar!” She scowled at him.

  “I mean it. They are covered in dirt from head to foot. I won’t have them supping in my great hall looking or smelling like that.”

  “We dinna eat in the great hall,” Torkel reminded him. “We eat in the kitchen with the rest of the servants.”

  “Well, you will all eat in the great hall today,” Benedict announced.

  “What’s the occasion?” asked Autumn, confused as to why he would let servants eat with the nobles.

  “It’s a celebration feast for your birthday, Lady Autumn,” said Nelek, getting a slap on the arm from Benedict in return.

  “A birthday celebration?” Autumn’s heart about melted. Was he really doing something special for her? “Nay, you don’t need to do that. It’s not important. It’s just another day.”

  “It most certainly is not,” said Benedict. “You are much too modest, my lady. Today you are a woman and I think that deserves a special celebration, don’t you?”

  Autumn didn’t understand why Benedict was making such a fuss. Girls were more or less considered women as soon as they started getting their cycle. Many were even married by the age of twelve or soon afterward. According to the norm, Autumn, being seventeen years of age and still not married, would be considered an old woman.

  “But the children,” she told him. “They don’t have any clean clothes.”

  “Nelek, find the boys new tunics and clean breeches,” Benedict told his squire.

  “Aye my lord.” Nelek played with the dogs.

  “And take the dogs with you,” he added, m
aking Autumn very thankful since she still wasn’t all that comfortable around the hounds.

  When they’d left, there was an awkward silence between Autumn and Benedict.

  “I see that there’s a garden here after all,” he finally said.

  “Aye. I’ve found lavender, rosemary and many more herbs hidden under the tangles of weeds. Using these for my healing potions will be perfect. Tomorrow I’ll continue to clear out more of the garden until I know the exact spot of every herb.”

  “Roses,” he said under his breath.

  “What did you say?”

  “If you look at the far end of the garden you might find roses. My mother planted some there when I was a child. I don’t know if they’d still be alive after all this time.”

  “Your mother liked to garden?” she asked, happy to hear him opening up about his family. She wanted to find out more.

  “My mother was a noblewoman,” he reminded her. “We had servants to care for the garden. She loved roses and made sure to always have some blooming every year. Ravenscar gave her permission.”

  “Your mother sounds like she was a loving person.”

  “Yes. She was. To a fault.” He closed himself off from her then, making her realize she would get no more information right now.

  “I will escort you to your chamber where a hot bath awaits you. There are some of my mother’s gowns in the trunk. She was about the same size as you. They’re your gowns now. Wear one of them to the great hall – and please show up this time. After all, the celebration is in your honor.”

  “I will,” she said, taking his arm, proud to be walking at his side. She got quite a few odd stares from onlookers since she was covered with dirt, but she didn’t care. Benedict made her feel special.

  When she got to her chamber, they entered the room to find Ishbel and Iona already there. They were clean and dressed in simple but fresh peasants’ attire.

  “Ishbel, Iona? What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I told you, they’re your handmaids now,” said Benedict. “They will tend to your every need. Now, please hurry as the celebration starts soon,” he said and left the room.

  Autumn stood there with her mouth open, not sure what to think.

  “We’ll help ye to bathe and also to wash and plait yer hair,” said Iona, doing what was expected of a handmaid. Autumn had never had a handmaid. She’d grown up with her sisters and mother and been very independent. After they’d left Scotland on Burnt Candlemas to live in England without their Scottish father, they’d lived with her grandfather, Lord Ramsay Granville of Hetherpool.

  Autumn sank down into the hot water, every muscle in her body aching from digging up weeds in the garden all day long. She wasn’t afraid of hard work and actually liked the exercise. She and her sisters had always been active. All of them needed excitement or they found their lives becoming stagnant and boring. That’s why she’d left her brother Rowen’s castle in Whitehaven where she’d recently lived. She wanted to live with the nuns curing the ill in Mablethorpe. Autumn was a noblewoman but, in her heart, she had always longed to help others. That was why she’d taken up healing. She enjoyed new challenges. With the gift of herbs that the earth gave her, she was able to make new healing potions to help those in need.

  Autumn bathed quickly since she was eager to get to her celebration. As she dried off, she found herself wondering what Benedict had planned in her honor. Ishbel walked over to the trunk, opened it and pulled out a gown. The dagger wrapped in a cloth that she’d hidden inside the trunk clattered to the floor. Ishbel jumped backward and her eyes grew wide as she surveyed the blade that had fallen out of the wrapping.

  “It’s a dagger! And there’s dried blood on it. Lots of it,” she cried out.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Autumn, using the cloth to scoop it up. She hurriedly placed it back in the trunk. “It’s just something I found. It means nothing.”

  “That dagger,” said Iona. “We have seen it before.”

  “You have?” Autumn put her hands above her head as Ishbel helped her into a russet and peach-colored gown. It was a beautiful gown of a noblewoman with long tippets that hung all the way down to the ground. The bodice consisted of velvet and lace with the skirt being made from soft silk. “Do you know whose dagger it is?” asked Autumn nonchalantly. “After all, I would like to return it.”

  “We do ken,” said Iona. “Everyone knows. That dagger is Lord Ravenscar’s.”

  “Ravenscar?” she repeated, her heart picking up a beat. “You mean the Lord Ravenscar who died.”

  “Nay, my lady,” said Ishbel, shaking her head. “It belongs to Ravenscar – the lord that lives.”

  Chapter 16

  Autumn didn’t have time to question the girls further about the dagger because there was a quick knock at the door. Then Benedict stuck his head inside the room.

  “Lady Autumn, aren’t you ready yet? Everyone awaits you in the great hall. Please hurry.”

  “I’m ready,” she said, pushing the thoughts of the dagger from her head. She didn’t want to think of anything tonight that might disturb her. Excitement coursed through her that Benedict was going to so much trouble to celebrate her birthday. Once again, she felt special.

  He held out his arm to escort her. Autumn placed her hand upon it, smiling as he looked at her as if he’d never seen her before.

  “You look beautiful, my lady,” he said softly, causing a blush to rise to her cheeks.

  “I thank you for the use of your mother’s gown. I’m sure she must have been a beautiful woman.”

  They walked down the tower stairs, Benedict staying on the outside of the circular staircase to protect her from falling. Then they entered the great hall and she stopped. Her jaw dropped open.

  Everyone from his knights and ladies, to the servants were present. Decorations of colorful ribbons trailed down from tall poles. Fresh flowers sprang up from tall urns at each corner of the room. Up in the gallery were at least a dozen musicians all holding instruments such as drums, lutes, and even a large harp. They watched intently, waiting for Benedict to give them the signal to start playing.

  Benedict looked up to the gallery and nodded. Music filled the great hall, bringing life to the celebration. Jongleurs stood dressed in brightly colored clothes at the far end of the room waiting for their turn to entertain. A jester made his way through the crowd, followed by the children of the castle. The children giggled at the jester’s puppet of a chicken he wore on his hand.

  Autumn drank in the wonderment, inhaling the sweet scent of the beeswax candles overhead, burning in the iron hanging fixtures. The cinnamon-scented aroma of the candles intermingled with the delicious smell of braised venison and roasted swan. She even spied frumenty pudding and whitefish on the platters being held by the kitchen servants.

  Benedict had hung purple and white banners on the walls. If she wasn’t mistaken, there were also fresh rushes under her feet covering the floor.

  “This is all . . . for me?” she asked, almost choking since she was trying to hold back her overwhelming emotion of gratitude.

  “This is just the beginning,” he said, leading her up to the dais table and pulling out her chair to help her get seated. Nelek stood behind Benedict’s chair, grinning from ear to ear. Sir Gawain sat next to Benedict and Sir Oxley was next to her. Several other knights and ladies that she didn’t know occupied the other spots at the dais table.

  “Your attention please,” said Benedict holding up his hand. The music stopped and the room became suddenly silent. She looked over to the door of the kitchen and saw Nairnie watching. At the long trestle table closest to the kitchen sat Enar, Torkel, and Rab, all in fresh clothes with their faces clean and their wet hair combed back.

  She looked up to Benedict as he continued. “Today we celebrate the birthday of Lady Autumn. Everyone raise your cups and show your respect to my guest.”

  A cheer went up from the crowd. Everyone raised their cups in the air. All excep
t Oxley, who did nothing but scowl.

  “God’s eyes, she’s a prisoner, Ravenscar. You need to start treating her like one.” Oxley drank from his cup without raising it in the air.

  “Keep your comments to yourself tonight,” ground out Benedict as he gave the command for the feast to begin. He then seated himself on his padded-armed chair atop the dais. The tension in the air between the two men was so thick she swore she had to struggle just to breathe. She didn’t like Oxley and felt uncomfortable having to sit next to him.

  After the ewerer had come by to wash their hands, the servants filed out in a line, each carrying a large platter of elegantly prepared food. She’d never seen anything so ornate in her life. Benedict seemed to do everything in extreme.

  The first platter of food placed on the dais consisted of venison in a rich brown gravy and roasted swan with the feathers reattached. Then there was a chicken that still had its head, dressed like a knight, riding atop a pigling made to look like a horse. It was very creative.

  There was boiled cabbage and roasted root vegetables and even a tray with several kinds of cheeses. The dais table was decorated with fresh flowers, and the salt cellar was filled to the rim. This was surely an expensive feast - and it was all for her.

  Benedict placed a large slab of venison on her silver plate while a servant smothered it with rich, brown gravy. She watched in awe. Normally, she ate from trenchers, except for a few times in her life, but never from a plate made of silver. At Mablethorpe Manor, the nuns usually didn’t even eat meat, and sometimes fasted for two or three days at a time. Benedict, once again, went to extremes in planning the meal.

  “Taste it and see if it is prepared to your liking, my lady.” Benedict took hold of the large, ornate salt cellar on the table that looked like a boat and held it out to her. “Perhaps you’d like a sprinkle of salt.” His large hand picked up the small silver spoon that was used to sprinkle salt atop the food of the nobles only. Salt was very expensive and served only at the dais. No one sitting below the salt could use it. She was shocked to see that Benedict had not one but two large salt cellars gracing the dais table.