Autumn's Touch

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Autumn's Touch Page 18

by Elizabeth Rose


  “Dinna worry, Benedict, I’m sure we’ll find it,” she said, patting him on the hand and smiling.

  “Did Lady Autumn tell anyone else about it?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “No one. Just me,” she said, bending over and collecting the clothes he’d thrown on the floor.

  He released a breath in relief. This was the best news Benedict had heard all day.

  Chapter 18

  “Look, there are three baby robins now,” said Autumn, holding Rab up to see into the nest.

  “There’s an egg missing,” said Ishbel, as the children crowded around to see the new arrivals.

  “Torkel, did ye take it?” asked Enar. “Ye take everythin’.”

  “Nay, I didna,” said Torkel, taking a look at the babies and then walking away.

  “All right, that’s enough,” said Autumn. “We need to get away from the nest now.”

  “Lady Autumn.” Benedict walked up with his squire at his side and several dogs running around the garden following him.

  “There are two more bairns,” Rab told Benedict as Autumn put him back on the ground. His arm was wrapped up but healing nicely. However, it would be some time before the boy was back to normal. He would always have a scar on his arm from this day on.

  “Let’s see,” said Benedict, flashing a smile at Rab and peeking into the nest. The robin didn’t like it. She squawked and flew past his head. He ducked, holding his hand in the air, making the children all laugh.

  “She doesna like ye,” said Torkel.

  “Nay, I don’t suppose she does,” he answered, looking disturbed by the fact.

  “I like ye, Laird Ravenscar,” said Rab.

  “And I like you, too,” said Benedict, reaching out and ruffling the little boy’s hair.

  “Have you come to see the garden?” asked Autumn. She had tried her best to ignore him the rest of the day yesterday, not at all happy with the way he’d called Nairnie to help Rab and how he didn’t have any confidence in her healing skills anymore.

  “We’ve come to take you to church,” blurted out Nelek, throwing a stick for the dogs.

  “Church?” she asked, confused as to why he’d be doing this.

  “It is Sunday,” he said.

  “Yes, it is.” She looked at him suspiciously. “Somehow I didn’t think you’d be the type to go to mass.”

  “He’s not,” said Nelek, taking the stick one of the dogs retrieved and throwing it again. The children all ran around playing with the dogs and chasing them around the garden. The little, white fluff-ball of a dog named Bailey opted to roll around atop the plants instead. “Nairnie told him you wanted to go.”

  “She did?” Autumn had mentioned to Nairnie that she was feeling guilty for her night of kissing with Benedict and felt like she needed to confess it. She hoped the old healer hadn’t told that to Benedict. “I suppose I could take a break from the garden,” she said. “But isn’t the church in town? I’d have to leave the castle walls to go there.”

  “Aye, it is,” said Benedict. “However, since I’ll be with you, it is all right to leave the castle. Come, I’ve got a wagon waiting for us.”

  She didn’t want to be alone with him and decided to make sure she wasn’t. Or at least, not until after she’d made amends with him. “Children, come quickly. We’re going to church.”

  “What?” The look of surprise on his face was almost amusing. “Nay, they’re not coming.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Aye. Why not?” echoed Nelek, making Benedict scowl even more.

  “Are you afraid to bring them out in public because they are Scots?” she asked. “Or is it because you think they’re going to try to escape?”

  “Neither,” he said. “It’s just not proper for servants to go to church, let alone to town.”

  “The children have never seen the town. I think it would do them good.”

  “I’ll come along to watch them,” offered Nelek. His offer only made Benedict groan.

  “I don’t think so. Not this time.” Impatience and aggravation were evident on Benedict’s face.

  “Then I think I won’t go either,” she said, turning and picking up a shovel.

  “Autumn,” he said softly, putting his hand on the shovel. “I really wish you wouldn’t do the work of servants. You’re a lady.”

  “I told you – I like to garden,” she said with a smile. “I enjoy nature and the earth. I don’t care if it’s not proper.”

  “Have it your way.” He turned to go.

  “Wait,” she said, stopping him. He turned back slowly. Perhaps she should give him another chance. “I think, mayhap, I’d like to go to church after all.”

  “Without the children?” he asked.

  She looked back over her shoulder at the children playing with the dogs. Oddly enough, she was starting not to be so afraid of the hounds ever since Benedict took her hand and made her pet one. Then again, these were some of his smaller dogs. The big ones, she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to. She really wanted to have some time to talk to Benedict alone and decided this might be the perfect opportunity to do so.

  “The children can go next time,” she said.

  “If there is a next time,” he mumbled, holding out his arm to escort her to the wagon.

  As they rode to the village, just the two of them in the horse-drawn wagon, Benedict felt uncomfortable and knew he needed to get back in Autumn’s good graces.

  “I suppose I was a little harsh yesterday,” he told her, looking straight ahead instead of at her.

  “About what?” She reached up and fussed with her headpiece, tucking stray strands of hair underneath.

  “With Rab,” he said.

  “I don’t understand.” She wasn’t making this easy.

  “I know you’re a good healer, Autumn. I don’t want you to think I doubted your skills when I called for Nairnie.”

  “Now that you mention it, you didn’t seem to have much faith in my healing skills at all.”

  “God’s eyes, Autumn, you healed me when I thought I was going to die. Of course, I have faith in your skills. It just seemed to be – taking longer than it should. I was worried. For Rab’s sake.”

  “We were all worried for him.” This time she brushed invisible specks of lint off her gown.

  “That’s not what I mean.” He let out a breath. “I mean – I have experienced your gift of the healing touch and I just became impatient, that’s all.”

  “I can’t control my healing touch,” she told him. “Lately, I admit it doesn’t seem to be working as well. But I am a healer, Benedict. I know how to heal in more ways than one.”

  “I know. I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . I’m sorry.”

  The total silence made him afraid to turn his head. Finally, he just had to look at her. To his surprise, she was smiling. “Why are you smiling?” he asked. “Do you find my apology amusing?”

  “Nay, not at all,” she said, smiling even more. “I find it admirable that such a hardened warlord as yourself can admit aloud that he was wrong.”

  “I didn’t say that!” She frowned and he figured he’d better change the subject quickly. They were almost to town and he needed to ask her about his dagger before they got to church. “Nairnie said you found my dagger in Ravenscar’s room.”

  Her head jerked upward, which told him that Nairnie hadn’t mentioned their conversation to her. “Yes. I found a dagger covered in dried blood in Ravenscar’s room,” she admitted.

  “Why didn’t you give it to me instead of hiding it?”

  “I was going to, but Sir Oxley entered the room and I didn’t know if he would punish me for having it.”

  “If that cur touches a hair on your head he will have to deal with me.”

  “He didn’t touch me,” she assured him. “I have the dagger in the trunk in the tower and I’ll give it to you when we return to the castle.”

  “Nay.”

  “Nay?” she asked. �
��I thought you’d want it back since it’s been determined it is yours.”

  “Been determined?” he asked. “Who determined that? Who all did you tell about the dagger?”

  “What does it matter? Is there something you are trying to hide? How did the blood get on it, Benedict?”

  “It’s not what you think,” he said, forcing a laugh. “I know it looks suspicious, but it was Ravenscar using it for bloodletting that made it that way. I lent it to him and he told me he lost it.” Benedict felt guilty lying to her. If he were a religious man, he might have considered going to confession himself for that lie.

  “Oh, I see. That makes sense. Well, come to the tower to get it later.”

  “Nay,” he said again. “Nairnie went to retrieve it for me after she told me about it, but it was missing.”

  “It was?” She looked surprised. “I wonder where it could be.”

  “Someone took it,” he said. “Now, who did you tell about it? Because when I find the culprit, they are going to be punished dearly for stealing something that is mine.”

  Autumn couldn’t tell him that Ishbel and Iona knew about the dagger. Not now, after he threatened to punish the culprit. She didn’t think the girls would steal it, but it wouldn’t matter to him. The dagger was gone and he was going to make someone pay.

  “I only told Nairnie,” she said.

  “Well, Nairnie didn’t take it. So, if you didn’t move it, what happened to it? It didn’t walk away by itself.”

  “Tell me, when is our next private lesson?” she asked, for lack of being able to think of anything else to say to get his mind off the stupid dagger.

  “What did you say?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.” She looked at him from the corner of her eyes. “Our lessons on how to fan the flames of desire while staying a virgin.”

  “Oh. That.” She saw him swallow a lump in his throat and then he was back to looking straight ahead again. The distraction worked. They continued to ride in silence until they entered the town and he finally slowed the horse.

  It was a small town just outside of Ravenscar with two-story buildings made of wood and stone. The top floors jutted out over the bottom, creating a covered walkway beneath. The buildings were old and crumbling, and some of them had big holes in the thatched roofs.

  “So this is the town?” she asked, taking a look around. There was a church at the far end of town, a butcher shop, a cordwainer’s shop, a tavern, and only about three or four other establishments. Goats and pigs ran free in the mud-filled streets. The people all looked to be very poor. They wore not more than rags for clothes. Some of the children only wore a pair of braies and nothing else. Her heart went out to them since they were so poor.

  “This is it,” he said, going slower as the wheels of the wagon started to stick in the ruts in the road. “Whoa!” he said, stopping the horse.

  The people in the street turned to look at them, whispering behind their hands to each other. The crowd dissipated quickly, moving away from Benedict like Moses parting the Red Sea. Everyone gave him plenty of room to get through.

  “They don’t seem to be very friendly,” Autumn noticed.

  “They all hated the previous Lord Ravenscar,” he explained.

  “Captain,” called out the blacksmith, running from his shop to greet them. He stopped at the side of the wagon and bowed. “We didn’t expect you here so soon.”

  “Wallace?” asked Autumn in surprise, recognizing the man from when she once lived in Hetherpool.

  “You know him?” asked Benedict in surprise.

  “Aye, he is the blacksmith that mentored my sister, Winter at the forge,” she told him.

  “Lady Autumn?” asked Wallace, squinting in the sun to see her. “Is that you? What are you doing here in Ravenscar of all places? This is no place for a lady.”

  “Enough with the small-talk,” growled Benedict, making the man jump back in surprise.

  “I am sorry, Captain,” he said, bowing again.

  “I am Lord of Ravenscar now, and no longer captain of the guard,” he corrected the man. “My liege lord has died and I have assumed his position.”

  “I understand,” said the man bowing again. “My apologies, my lord.”

  “What do you want?” he asked the blacksmith.

  “My lord, I’m sorry but we don’t have the taxes ready for you yet. We will soon. Perhaps you’ll accept some chickens and a pig instead? We are poor and our businesses are failing. We don’t have much to offer at this time. Ever since the ships stopped docking at the harbor, we haven’t had a trade fair or anyone to buy our wares. Things are bad and getting worse all the time.”

  “I’m not here for the taxes,” said Benedict. “I’m escorting Lady Autumn to church.”

  “You’re going to church?” he asked quite loudly. That started another wave of whispering behind hands.

  “Are you deaf, Blacksmith? That’s what I said. Now get this wagon out of the mud and have my horse turned around and ready for me as soon as mass is over.” He hopped out of the wagon, landing in a puddle. He groaned. “Give me your hand, Lady Autumn.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I’m going to carry you to the walkway or you’ll ruin that nice gown.”

  Without giving her a chance to answer, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the wooden walkway outside the businesses. She hung on, her arms around his neck and her body pressed up against his. It felt very intimate and she was sure her cheeks flushed by the action. Then, slowly, he placed her on her feet.

  It was nice to be in his arms, but she also felt embarrassed by the fact everyone was watching them during an act that should have been private. He held out his arm and escorted her toward the church at the far side of town.

  “Good day, my lord,” said the cordwainer with a bow. The blacksmith whispered in his ear. “Lord Ravenscar,” said the man, turning and mumbling to someone else.

  “Lord Ravenscar,” said one and then another, surprising her how a minute ago no one knew he’d assumed the new position. But by the time they got to the church, everyone had greeted him by his new title.

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you here, Benedict,” said a whore from the doorway of the tavern. Her familiarity made Autumn wonder just how well the woman really knew him. Another whore stood next to her and whispered into the first one’s ear. “Lord Ravenscar,” the first woman corrected herself, standing at attention. “Now, that is something I fancy.” She smiled even more, seeming to like the fact he was the new lord of the castle.

  By the time they approached the church, Benedict had wished he had never brought Autumn here at all. He had only been trying his hardest to get her to like him again, but this was no place for a lady. The streets were muddy and filthy. Flea-ridden animals roamed around freely. Chamber pots that had been dumped out the second story windows left puddles and piles of smelly urine and feces next to the buildings. Old carcasses of meat littered the area outside the butcher shop. Fishmongers carelessly discarded of their smelly fish heads and bones as well as last week’s catches in the streets.

  The place reeked. It turned his stomach. Flies buzzed around his head and he swatted them away. And now to make matters worse, the whores were calling him by name right in front of Autumn. What was she going to think?

  A pig ran by squealing, being chased by a little boy. As they passed, mud splashed up on him as well as on Autumn.

  “Come back here!” he shouted, causing the boy to stop and turn around. “You just splashed mud on my lady as well as me.”

  “I – I’m sorry, my lord,” said the boy, standing there shoeless, covered in mud up to his knees.

  The boy’s mother ran out and put her hands on his shoulders. “Please, don’t hurt him, Lord Ravenscar, I beg you. He’s young and doesn’t realize the severity of what he’s done.”

  “Benedict,” said Autumn, laying her hand on his. “It was an accident. He didn’t mean any harm by it. Please
, don’t punish the boy.”

  Benedict didn’t want to let the act go without being addressed, but he also didn’t want to have to punish a child. His liege lord would have had the boy’s head. He, on the other hand, needed these people to know he wasn’t anything at all like the late Lord Ravenscar.

  “Be more careful when there are nobles in your town,” he scolded the boy.

  “I apologize for my son’s actions, my lord,” said the mother again. “He is young and hasn’t seen many nobles. We don’t have many visitors anymore.”

  “We understand,” said Autumn, before he could reply. He didn’t like her answering for him and decided that this whole idea of coming to church was a mistake.

  “Blacksmith, bring the horse and wagon,” he called out.

  “Wait,” she said. “I thought we were going to church.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. This is no place for a noblewoman. From now on the priest will come to the castle to say mass, but you’ll not return here again.”

  They got into the wagon and headed back to the castle. She was quiet and he knew he needed to say something.

  “Tonight. When we return.”

  “Tonight?” she looked at him quizzically.

  “We’ll continue our lessons tonight in my chamber.”

  “I don’t see how I can do that when I’ve yet to confess our last sin together.”

  “What sin?” he asked, squinting his eyes and shaking his head.

  “The kissing,” she said. “I planned on confessing it to the priest today.”

  He laughed, finding it amusing even though she didn’t think it was funny.

  “Why are you laughing at me?”

  “I am laughing because, my dear, we have done nothing that needs confessing.”

  “Oh, but I’m sure we have.”

  “We only kissed! That is no sin.”

  “But the way we kissed.” Her face flushed and she looked down to her hands on her lap. “Are you sure?”

  “I assure you we did nothing wrong. It is sometimes only the feelings and thoughts that we have rather than the actual action that needs confessing.”

 

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