Unwilling to test her further, Garrick walked to the door and made to unlock it.
“Garrick, assure me that you wouldn’t do anything to harm Angelica,” Aisley whispered.
Saddened by her doubts, he opened the door. “Never would I harm someone I love,” he promised, stalking away.
He was outside before his temper began to calm. In the deepest part of the forest, he tore off his pants and gave into the leopard.
Chapter Sixteen
Aisley waited until Garrick was gone before she lowered herself to the floor. Crying and shaking, she wrapped her arms about her legs and lowered her face to her knees. She feared what would become of Garrick if anyone learned of his madness. It was difficult enough worrying whether the villagers and tenants believed him to be a tyrant or wicked. If they knew he believed himself capable of changing into a leopard, they might turn him over to the Church with charges of heresy and he would face execution.
Mayhap she should speak with Garrick and convince him of the impossibility of his fanciful tales. She had Angelica to consider. She certainly couldn’t permit the child to believe he was some sort of monster! At the very least, Aisley knew Garrick would never harm Angelica and that gave her some peace of mind.
“Garrick, what is wrong with you?” she wondered aloud, feeling a strange emptiness within. She couldn’t feel him and she shivered against the sudden cold that crept under her skin. “How can I make you accept yourself as a mere mortal man?”
Uncertain of what to do Aisley lifted her head. Sunlight from the window touched her arm, revealing her dirt smudges.
She could use a bath. Mayhap that would help her think and find a way to help Garrick. She had to believe that he wasn’t completely mad, that he was a man who lived, breathed and bled just like any Englishmen. But then she remembered that he was more than that. He claimed to be Abcynian and four hundred and fifty years old. Mercy, how could that be possible? How could he think she’d believe such a thing?
“Agh,” she cried, wincing painfully as she stood, her muscles and bones ached.
Making her way to the maid’s door, she knocked. “Elethea, are you there?” She knocked again and failed to receive an answer.
Giving up, she sought the basin of water kept behind the privacy screen. There, Aisley stripped, grabbed a clean cloth and dunked it in the cool water. As usual, she added a drop of almond oil to the water, hoping to regain a sense of normalcy. After washing, she dried herself and rearranged her hair in two plaits. Feeling a little better, she strode over to her clothing chest and selected a blue houppelande, hose and shoes suitable for walking.
From the window she could hear the daily workings of the manor as she stood doing nothing. Garrick was gone and she suddenly needed freedom. A walk to the village might enable her to think with more clarity.
She opened her door and saw Sir Brandon standing guard at the end of the hallway. Sending him a reluctant smile, she stepped back into the room and bolted the door. A dash to the hallway leading from Elethea’s room showed another guard posted at the end.
Refusing to be caged inside her bedchamber, Aisley returned to the window. Sir Knight had entered the room this way. He was a huge beast, yet he’d been able to come and go at will. She should be capable of doing the same.
Quickly, she scrambled onto the ledge, scooted through the opening and tumbled to the ground. A quick survey of the courtyard revealed no one had noticed her escape and she used it to her advantage.
She’d almost made it to the trail leading to the village when a large man came to stand in front of her. “Where do you go without an escort, milady?” Valiant asked.
Aisley spun about and punched her hands into her hips. “Valiant, what mean you by frightening me?”
“Forgive me, I did not intend to,” Valiant said. “Is something else amiss?”
“I need to visit the village.” Hoping to fend off his suspicions, she kept her shoulders straight and her eyes upon his handsome young face.
“Lord Danford has strict orders that someone accompany you when you’re outside the manor house.”
“A walk to the village does not require an escort,” she replied.
“Lord Danford would not want you to be alone.” Valiant held up his hand before she could protest. “Be assured, I offer myself as your guard.”
Without any further recourse, she bowed her head. “Very well, you may accompany me.”
“You are gracious, milady.”
“Not really,” she said and they walked in silence for a little while.
They were well into the woods when Valiant spoke. “You know, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You’ve learned about the Abcynians, about all of us,” he said.
“I haven’t any idea what you mean,” she denied. “Where have you’ve been of late? I’ve barely seen you.”
“I’m touched to know you care,” he said.
“Why would you think differently? You were very kind to me when I was still living in the village. If it weren’t for you, I may not have seen Angelica as often as I did.”
Valiant stiffened, rumbling deep in his throat much like Garrick when he was getting impatient. “I’m like him.”
“Like whom?” she inquired, frowning up at him. He wasn’t quite as tall as his father, but she felt certain that someday he would be bigger than his father.
“Lord Danford,” Valiant claimed.
“He is an unusual man with strange beliefs. Valiant, if you continue to speak of him I shall ignore you and I’d far rather talk about you. Won’t you tell me where have you been?”
“Training with Sir Brandon’s squire,” he answered.
“Have the lessons been difficult?”
“The Earl is a difficult taskmaster,” Valiant returned. “But he is fair and I am learning.”
Aisley smiled at the severity of the boy’s comment. “How long does it take for a squire to reach knighthood?”
“I suppose it depends on the squire and the amount of money he possesses. Sir Brandon’s squire, William, has aided his master since he was ten and twelve. He is almost ten and seven now, yet he has much to learn and cannot afford the expense of knighthood. When he is ready, I suspect he will become a vassal.”
“How old are you?”
“Most think I’m ten and five,” he said.
Somehow the simple conversation had turned. “You’re not ten and five?”
Valiant drew to a halt. Aisley watched him look about as if searching for something or someone before speaking further.
“I am one hundred and fifty,” he told her.
“Valiant,” Aisley murmured, wishing she’d refused his wish to escort her to the village. “You are mistaken. You’ve the face of a boy.”
He shook his head, seeming earnest, but offended that she’d not believed him. “Nay, after infancy, Abcynians age about ten years for every one hundred until reaching adulthood.”
“I dislike talking about this.” Worried about Valiant, Aisley tried to make him see reason.
“Why?” he questioned. “You’ve learned about us. There’s nothing to hide from you now.”
“There’s everything to hide. Do you not know what would happen if someone were to learn of your fanciful notions, of Lord Danford’s?”
“Abcynians have been living in England longer than the Normans. We’ve established ourselves throughout Europe and the Far East. We’ve been able to guard what we are and we will continue to do so while we protect the land and people we live amongst.”
Impatient with him, Aisley started to walk onward. “I suppose you think you can change form?”
“Any Abcynian with the soul of a panther can change into their other half upon reaching adulthood. Garrick is panthera pardus. He can change into the leopard you call Sir Knight.”
“That isn’t possible,” she denied.
“Aye, it is true.”
“So you believe you can turn into a leopard as well?”
/> Valiant remained beside her as they walked, gallantly pushing aside branches and debris. He really was a nice young man. It saddened her to think he was as mad as Garrick.
“I cannot change form as of yet,” he said.
“Good, you realize the impossibility of your Abcynian beliefs. Men cannot change into leopards or wolves or…anything for that matter.”
“I know nothing of wolves. I cannot change form yet because I’m too young. But I am a full blooded Abcynian and will turn when I become an adult.”
Aisley cringed, worried for the boy’s sanity. “You’ll not become a leopard. People do not become animals. Those are myths, nothing more.”
“That’s true enough. I’ll not become a leopard.”
“There, you see, you’re a young man training for knighthood.”
“Like my father, I’ve the soul of a lion,” he proclaimed with such ferocity she stumbled to a halt. “My mother’s a lioness, the matriarch of our pride. In all honesty, milady, there are panthera Abcynians who can change into tigers as well. The tigers are the rarest and most secretive. It is unlikely you’ll ever meet one.”
Aisley covered her ears with her hands. “Valiant, I beg you to cease this talk. I’ll not believe you any more than I believe Garrick.”
“You disbelieve Garrick’s word?” Looking as crestfallen as Aisley felt, Valiant withdrew a measure and stared. “He’s the second eldest of our kind. Few Abcynians question him.”
Growing more afraid and angry that she might have been wrong to doubt Garrick, Aisley fought back with the only thing she knew. “I am not Abcynian! I’m an Englishwoman.”
“You’ll not be an Englishwoman for much longer. Garrick will convert you. When he does, you will become Abcynian.”
“I’ll not be converted into anything and we’ll speak of this no more.” An inspection of the area showed they’d stopped near the village clearing, very close to where her cottage stood.
“Milady, I hadn’t meant to frighten you, pray forgive me,” Valiant apologized and stepped back.
“I’m not frightened,” she lied. “Valiant, I’m going into my cottage and I’d like to be alone for a little while. I’ll be safe there. Afterward, I wish to visit some of the villagers. When I am finished, would you escort me back to the manor?”
Valiant granted her request with a nod and stayed by the woods as she continued toward the cottage. “I’ll wait for you nearby,” he called out.
Before she could tell him to return to the manor, he headed for the village common.
Aisley drew a long, deep breath and walked to the cottage. It seemed so small, ordinary, yet she found it familiar, welcoming. Long ago, it had been used by her parents to treat the illnesses and injuries of the villagers.
When plague reached Danford, her parents treated villagers in a makeshift dwelling purposefully set away from the village. Even though they became ill themselves, they insisted that Aisley stay in the cottage, keeping her from getting sick. She’d had the other place burned when her parents died, but she always remembered to thank the Lord for her mother and father’s forethought in protecting her when she prayed.
Inside the cottage, Aisley discovered most of her remedies still in their places. She made a quick inspection. Blackberry, horehound, dandelion, peppermint, rosemary, sorrel, yarrow and marigold were used in her favorite remedies. Some of her treatments stemmed from recipes handed down from her mother and her mother’s mother.
She knew how to make a new mother’s milk begin to flow, bring a babe into the world, how to reduce fever, soothe sore throats, stitch wounds, pull teeth and surgically remove a child from its mother’s womb if the mother died during childbirth.
Aye, she knew much about healing, yet she’d almost ignored her knowledge in favor of learning how to be a countess for the Earl of Danford. True, she had liked being with Garrick and enjoyed the times when they were alone. Despite his strange beliefs, he was a most tempting man.
As she stood in her cottage, she could recall the first kiss they’d shared, almost tasting him upon her lips. Yet, she should not have forgotten the villagers or her duties as a healer.
“Well, I’ll simply have to convince Garrick to let me continue doing the work I’m meant to,” she said.
A knock at the door prevented Aisley from continuing her perusal. “Valiant, please go. I wish to be alone,” she said, thinking the squire had come for her.
“It isn’t Valiant, milady,” Andrew White responded.
“Andrew,” she repeated, rushing to open the door. “Why do I sense hesitancy in your voice?”
“Forgive me, milady, I saw you heading for your cottage and I’d thought you might agree to help my wife.”
Surprised he’d show such deference by averting his eyes, Aisley frowned. “Andrew, you’ve known me since we were children. Why do you think I’d not help your wife?”
“The Earl’s physician told us you weren’t healing any longer,” Andrew said, entering the cottage, but remaining near the open door.
“Jerold misunderstood. Since my betrothal to Lord Danford, I’ve been learning how to be his wife and watch over the manor house. A difficult task, I must admit, but I’ve not forgotten my duty to the village.”
“You are to become a countess, you needn’t worry about us anymore,” Andrew said. “Milady—”
“Use my name,” she insisted.
“Aisley, I’m worried about Nelda,” he admitted.
“What is amiss?”
“She’s with child.”
Aisley smiled. “That’s a wonderful thing, Andrew.”
“We hope so. Nelda lost our first babe before it was born, remember? Both of us worry the same could happen again.”
“Of course I remember. I’ll be glad to examine your wife, try not to worry,” Aisley assured, already seeking a bag to pack with supplies for a visit to Andrew’s dwelling. “How is she feeling?”
“Very tired, and sick in the morn. She works too hard and I try to make her rest when she can,” he said.
“Having her rest when she can is good,” she replied as they walked outside.
While heading toward Andrew’s cottage, Aisley found herself wondering why Andrew hadn’t spoken to Jerold about Nelda. “Andrew, have you told the physician that Nelda is with child?”
“Aye, three days past,” he said.
“Did he have any advice?” she asked.
“None, save to seek a midwife should Nelda lose the babe or when she’s ready to give birth.”
“No wonder you are worried!” Alarmed that Jerold would say such a thing, she stopped. “Andrew, I shall assist Nelda with whatever she needs from now on. I would like it if you would inform the villagers of the same. I shall also speak with Lord Danford on what should be done about his physician’s error. I thought Jerold would take care of the villagers properly while I was gone. Now that I know differently, I shall resume my duties as a healer.”
“Are you certain you should make such a declaration? I wouldn’t want the Earl of Danford to become angry at you.”
“You needn’t worry. Lord Danford is a good man. I feel certain that he’ll listen when I explain what’s happened. “
Andrew nodded and walked on. Before following, Aisley took a moment to look over her shoulder to see if Valiant was near.
She found him by a well in the center of the village, gallantly assisting villagers in retrieving the heavy pails of water. Oddly, an unfamiliar woman awaited her turn. Aisley wasn’t sure who she was, but the woman was pretty, small of frame, and her hair was covered with a commoners cap. Her eyes seemed to be trained upon Valiant’s broad shoulders.
“Aisley, what is it?” Andrew asked.
“Have you seen that woman before, Andrew?” she asked, gesturing to the woman by the well.
“A time or two, she comes from Fernley,” he answered.
“Why would she come here?” Aisley questioned.
“It’s my understanding that something happened to the cist
ern in Fernley and the Earl agreed to allow a few of the men to come and draw water from our well and the stream that runs through Danford Forest. We’ve plenty of water to share. Would you like me to ask her if her husband is near? Mayhap he is at the stream getting water there.”
“Nay, Andrew, let her be,” Aisley decided, leaving Valiant helping the villagers at the well. He was training as a knight and he was bigger than any man the village. A small woman wasn’t likely to harm him.
Inside the cottage, Aisley ordered Andrew back outside and found his wife in bed. After exchanging pleasant greetings, she began examining Nelda and her unborn babe. When she finished, she smiled and sat on the edge of the bed.
“What do you think, m’lady?” Nelda tentatively asked as Aisley pulled a coverlet up to her chin.
Aisley grinned. “Given the last time you had your menses and your sleepiness, you are further along than you were when you lost your first babe. I recommend bedrest whenever you can manage, especially when you’re feeling ill. Soon you’ll find more strength and the sickness will ease.”
“So you believe the babe will be fine?” Nelda prodded.
“I cannot give you promises. I can only say it seems likely you will carry the babe well. Nelda, should you begin to bleed or feel any discomfort at all, I want you to send for me right away.”
Nelda relaxed back onto the bed, a scruffy blanket being used for a pillow. “What of the midwife the physician recommended?”
“I am the midwife,” Aisley said.
“I can’t ask you to attend me, m’lady.”
“Nelda, I must say to you what I told Andrew, you needn’t be so formal with me.” Displeased that those she’d known all her life were viewing her as someone unapproachable, she touched her hand to Nelda’s shoulder, offering support. “We’ve known each other most of our lives and I would like nothing more than to assist you and your child.”
“You are to marry the Earl of Danford,” Nelda said, looking up at Aisley. “He frightens his own servants. He’s kept you from us. Some…some in the village say he is a wizard.”
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