Secret Sass

by K. Lyn

  "Don't you know, Sir, it's at the same place the wedding is at. It's up at Oakham, it is. By their new house. It's a rush wedding. Only a few people invited." Mary sniffed in annoyance. "I think the rush is because of a little secret in her belly, but don't you tell anyone I said so."

  So Victoria's mother went to Oakham. Oakham is miniscule. All I will have to do is ask a few people, and then I'll find Cecile and will discover where Victoria went. Then I'll show her. I'll watch the blood drain from her body if she fights me again. He spun around and marched toward the door. As he opened it, he heard Mary cry, "But sir, aren't you going to buy a hat or dress?"

  He shut the door behind him and walked toward his horse.

  As Sir William drove his heels into his horse's sides, the animal strained beneath him and tossed her head. Sir William could feel her sweat beneath his fingers as he balanced his hands over her mane, but he didn't care. Wildham, a tiny town, appeared before him with its fat cottages. As he galloped into the town and then yanked back on the reins so hard his horse let out a cry of pain, several people glanced his way. One of them was a thin old man with a beard who had golden ale stains down the front of his tunic.

  Sir William leapt off of his horse and walked over to the old man. "Excuse me, sir."

  The man raised an eyebrow as he stared at him.

  "Would you care to tell me where I can find a woman named Cecile?" Sir William said.

  Looking Sir William up and down, the man said nothing. Annoyance filled Sir William and he imagined wringing the man's shriveled neck. But no, if there was any violence to be had, he would save that for Victoria and maybe her mother, if she refused to tell him where Victoria went.

  "I am talking to you." Sir William gritted his teeth.

  "And he can't answer you, neither," said a woman behind him. Sir William whipped around.

  A woman stood with her arms crossed in front of her. She had large breasts, a thin waist, and large hips. Her eyes were bright blue. His cock immediately reacted, but this was not a pleasure trip to see a prostitute. This was a trip to find Victoria and make her his once more. He would feel a lot more pleasure if he had Victoria underneath him, panting and crying out, "No!" just like she had done their first time.

  "Hello, Lady," Sir William said, though the woman was as much of a lady as his sweat covered mare. "Have you heard of a woman named Cecile? She is due to be married here soon, and I really need to speak with her."

  The woman surveyed him with a cocked head. "My father runs the pub. He knows everything about everyone. Would you care to come with me to speak to him?"

  A grin crossed his face. "Lady, nothing would give me more pleasure."

  After giving him another once over, the woman beamed at him and waved him over. He followed close behind, leading his mare behind him.

  "So what brings a wealthy man like you to Wildham?" the woman asked. "Most people who come here are simple commoners."

  He looked down at his clothes and realized why the woman had grinned. The people in Wildham wore soiled brown clothes and had a layer of dirt upon their skin. He wore silks of purple and high-knee boots he had gotten especially from Kent. Perhaps the woman had thought she could have her hand on some of his riches if she helped him. Sly woman. He would have to be careful around her. Unlike Victoria, this woman was obviously not an innocent, foolish girl.

  "It's in here, Sir," the woman said, pointing at a small, fat building which appeared more like a broken down cottage. It was the size of one room in his estate. "Tie your horse up here, at this post."

  "You surely jest," he said, tying his sweat lathered horse up to an erect wooden pole.

  "I do not." She crossed her arms. "Go on, then. The people of Wildham are not as wealthy as you."

  Frowning, he walked over to the pub and opened the door, with the woman behind him. When he went inside, he saw that the small pub had a couple of tables, and a group of three weathered policemen sat drinking ale. There was a small counter where a bearded, plump man wiped dirty tankards with an even more dirty rag. Sir William headed over to the counter with the woman behind him, feeling dirty for even stepping into such a place.

  When Sir William approached, the bartender glared down at him with hazel eyes. "And who is this, Clare? A suitor? And he did not ask me for permission to walk with you?"

  "No, Father, he is not a suitor," Clare said quickly. "This is…Well, he's not from here and he wants to ask about a woman named Cecile. He has not laid a hand upon me. Sir, this is my father, Edmund."

  A careful grin crossed her face and Sir William heard her secret message. "He has not laid a hand upon me yet." Perhaps later he would bury his face in her bosoms, if he was forced to take a night at the inn. But not yet. Not yet.

  "So you came to talk to Cecile, eh?" Edmund continued to wipe at his glass. "That's fine, then. Sorry for getting angry. How 'bout a drink?"

  Sir William examined the tankard that Edmund cleaned. "No."

  With narrow eyes, Edmund looked him up and down. "No? I don't normally trust a man who doesn't drink."

  He dug around in his coat where he kept his coins. After grabbing two, he put them on the counter and pushed them over to the bartender. It was the price of five tankards and more, and Edmund's eyes glowed at the sight of the coins.

  "Well, now, guess I could trust a man like you, though," Edmund said. "Dawson comes here to drink at the pub every once in a while, and his bride-to-be is a woman named Cecile. Getting married sometime soon, I believe. Not that anyone was invited to the affair. They're keeping it real quiet. Think they're hiding something."

  Heart thudding in excitement, Sir William nodded. "Yes, that would be her. Where does this Dawson live?"

  "Go down the town street and turn right when you see the funny tree with no leaves on it," Edmund said. "There's a cottage at the end. That's where Dawson lives. Of course, it won't do you much good tonight."

  "Why not?" he asked, his stomach sinking.

  "Don't know," Edmund said. "But old Paul made a stop at Dawson's place – wanted to buy some of his pig meat – and said he wasn't home. Don't know where he or his bride is, either."

  Sir William shook his head and his fists tightened. "Fine. Guess I'll just wait until they get back. Where's the nearest inn?"

  "My daughter will take you," Edmund said, nodding at Clare. "Clare, you be a nice girl and show this gentleman to the inn and help him get settled."

  "Yes, sir." Clare curtsied at him and grinned, and Sir William knew he would be seeing more than good manners that night, whether her father was aware of it or not.

  Swiveling, Sir William dug into his bag of coins and passed Edmund one more. Edmund took the coin with a hungry look in his eye and licked his dry lips. He gazed at Sir William as if hoping to rip off his coat and take him for all he had. This look made Sir William draw his coat tighter around himself, and he cursed himself for not untying his sheath and sword from his horse's saddle before he came inside.

  But then Edmund's eyes dulled again, and Sir William knew he was safe.

  "There will be a lot more where that came from if you tell no one what I asked," Sir William said. "And your daughter, too."

  "No word 'bout it shall leave my mouth," Edmund said.

  "Nor mine," Clare said.

  "Good." Now if only Victoria's blasted mother would get home, so he could find Victoria.

  That morning, Leon walked to town with his cape drawn up over his head as he entered the village of Harlow. The town was busy, and everywhere he glanced, people gasped and fell back. They think I am of the Devil. Perhaps they are correct. Unfortunately, he did not know of what he was from, only that he existed. He sped up his pace.

  A hundred years ago, he had been assaulted by a mob ready to crush him beneath heavy bricks. He had escaped the horde by transforming into a werewolf and fleeing into the forest for a time, but he would not forget their vengeance. He wanted to spend as little time out in the open in the town as possible. But he still had to pin u
p the fliers calling for a new servant. It was unfortunate that he had run out of contacts in order to get someone new. It was so much easier when he didn't have to show someone his werewolf form.

  The sound of someone retching drew him from his thoughts, and it was also a reminder that he had reached the pub. Even in the afternoon, someone had gotten drunk enough to throw up. He wrinkled his nose and entered, carrying his paper with him.

  One second the pub was filled with people chattering and eating stout sandwiches; the next, silence drew across the bar as he stepped inside. He walked over to where a bar maiden served ale in large tankards, and paused. Though the woman outweighed him by at least fifty pounds, she gasped and stepped back, clutching her massive breasts.

  "I am looking for a new servant for my estate," he said quietly. Several people inched in closer to hear him, including a thin, runty man with a small beard. "Would you be so kind as to hang this upon your wall?"

  The bar maiden nodded and took the paper from him.

  "No one will work for the likes of you," said the thin, runty man. "Get out of our town and go back to that hell hole you crawled from."

  Leon whirled around and looked the man up and down, but he said nothing. He didn't want to stir up trouble.

  "Get out," the man repeated.

  "Shut up, Monty. He has as much right to be here as you. You come in, get drunk, and cause a ruckus. You even bring in prostitutes at your leisure. Well, my husband and I are tired of it." The bar maiden turned to Leon. "Sir, I'll hang it up. Don't know what kind of luck you'll have, but if someone comes by looking for work, I'll let them know. Send them up to your estate, shall I, then?"

  Shock filled him and his mouth dropped open. He shut his mouth and then nodded slowly.

  "Thank you," Leon said.

  "Tis my job, Sir." Then she turned and looked at the rest of the crowd. "Now who here wants another pint?"

  The roar in the pub steadily increased until it was a dull roar again, and Leon walked out of the pub feeling dazed.

  Chapter Four

  Victoria rode Stormy into the small village of Harlow covered in a layer of sweat with her dress bunched about her thighs. Her legs ached and her skin was covered in swollen welts where her skin had developed saddle sores after days of galloping. People stared as she dismounted, and though she didn't know what she looked like, she had a pretty good idea she was a fine mess.

  But at least I'm a mess that has gotten away from Sir William. She could only pray that her mother had a similar fate.

  As Victoria led Stormy through the crowd, she licked her dry lips and realized how much she could use a drink. As a thin, dark-haired woman walked by her with her head down, Victoria called after her and the woman stopped and then stared at her with narrow eyes. I really must appear horrible. She glanced down at herself and then shook her head.

  "Ma'am, I am looking for a place to get a drink," Victoria said. "Can you help me?"

  The woman nodded at a small building to Victoria's right.

  "Thank you, Ma'am," she smiled.

  The woman nodded again, turned, and then walked quickly down the street as if Victoria had asked her if she sacrificed cats at midnight instead of where the pub was. Shaking her head, Victoria turned, led her horse over to the pub, and tied him up to a tree next to the building. She patted Stormy's head and he nuzzled her arm with a sweaty muzzle.

  "I'll be right back," she croaked. "I need something to drink. You stay here and eat some grass. Who knows? Maybe they have someone needing paid help and this will be our last stop."

  In the last couple of towns she had stopped at, that had not been the case, but Victoria did not lose hope. She walked toward the entrance of the pub, opened the door, and then stepped inside. Several people turned their heads and did a double-take when they saw her. Victoria once again frowned down at herself, shrugged, and then walked forward toward the counter where a large woman with bushy brown hair served drinks to a thin man with a full beard. The bar maiden also did a double-take when she saw her.

  "What can I get you?" the bar maiden asked.

  "Whatever is cheapest." Victoria wasn't sure how much longer the few coins she had from pilfering Sir William's old gifts would last.

  "All right." The bar maiden handed Victoria a large tankard of golden mead.

  With a sigh of relief, Victoria took the golden mead from the bar maiden and took a deep mouthful. The liquid was sweet and delicious. Victoria swished the liquid in her mouth and then grinned. Yes, this was what she needed. She couldn't believe how good it tasted. When she opened her eyes, she saw that the bar maiden still watched her carefully.

  "Where are you from, girl?" the bar maiden asked.

  Victoria peered around nervously. How would Sir William find me here? I'm fine. She bit her bottom lip.

  "Just by Uppingham, Ma'am." She glanced down at her drink.

  "Long ways to travel." The bar maiden stared her down again.

  "Yes, Ma'am." Frowning, heat filled her face. "My mother is getting remarried, so I came here to find work."

  A shocked expression crossed the bar maiden's face. "You say you're searching for work?"

  Eagerly, Victoria nodded. Her heart sped up. "Do you know something? Do you need someone for the bar?"

  Being a bar maiden wasn't exactly what she had in mind when it came to earning coins. She had envisioned herself working as a seamstress like her mother. Still, she wasn't the type of woman who frowned upon a job when she needed the money. Maybe Harlow was the town she was destined for, the town she was meant to live in. It was small, but Uppingham wasn't exactly London, so she was fine with that.

  "We don't need help at the bar," the bar maiden said. "Did you happen to see the estate upon the hill when riding into town?"

  Her stomach sunk. Was there no work? And what did the estate on the hill have to do with it? Still, she nodded. It was hard to miss the large mansion on the hill. It loomed over the little town of Harlow like a lion hovered over his prey.

  "I did see it," she said.

  "The man there is looking for a servant," the bar maiden said, frowning at her. "Would a lady like you be interested in that type of labor?"

  The double question caught Victoria off guard. It sounded almost like a warning. She shrugged it off, thinking she had just gotten paranoid after Sir William. She much rather would have worked at a large estate instead of in a bar, and perhaps the person who hired her would give her a place to stay. Heaven knew she needed a bed underneath her instead of the lumpy ground. Her horse could also do with a good pasture and some days of rest.

  "I do have interest in it. A very keen interest, in fact." She grinned. "This is the first town I came to where work was available. People appear to be going through some hard times and weren't quick to trust the likes of me."

  "Well, you do look a bit wild, your hair streaming about the way it is."

  The bar maiden looked her up and down. "I don't feel I should let you walk up to that estate without some warning, though…"

  "Warning?" she asked nervously, her heart speeding up. Maybe Harlow was not her town after all. Maybe the man who dwelled in that estate was just like Sir William and lusted after women. "What do you mean?"

  "The man there is a bit peculiar," the bar maiden said. "He hides alone most of the time. Real polite, though. Never causes a bit of trouble. In fact, I haven't seen him down in these parts for years 'til he came by this morning, asking for a servant."

  "So he isn't lecherous?" she asked.

  "No. A fine gentleman in that regard, as I recall," the bar maiden said. "Heard no accounts of the ladies of the night heading up to his estate for anything, either."

  "Married?" Maybe his wife was cruel. One of her friends in Rutland was a servant, and she served a mistress who treated her like slime.

  "No. No wife." The bar maiden appeared thoughtful. "He is bloody handsome, though, if I do say so myself. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, and a strong body. It is a shame he is reclusive the way
he is. With a home like that and a face the way his is, he should have found himself a good wife ages ago and settled down. As I said, though, he is odd. Never steps foot in town. Speaks to no one."

  Do I dare attempt to go up there to be his servant? She frowned at her hands and hung her head. Then again, what were the chances of her coming to a town and discovering that someone was in desperate need of a servant during these times? Perhaps this was fate, or maybe God finally giving her a hand. She could really need a turn of good luck. This could have been it. Plus, there wouldn't be any harm of seeing the man. If she turned up and he was devilish and evil, she would leave. No one could be worse than Sir William, and heaven help her, she had survived that.

  "Well?" the bar maiden asked.

  She decided she was not the type of woman who was a coward. No, she would march up to the man's estate and ask about the servant job. Her fists tightened in determination and she grabbed her tankard, finished the last gulp, and then placed it back on the counter with a "thunk."

  "I'll do it," she said. "I'll go see him straight away. Heaven help me, I can't afford to stay at the inn, and I could do with a bed."

  A grin crossed the bar maiden's face. "Well, I'll be. I'm impressed. Haven't seen a bolder woman come to these parts in my life. Best of luck to you. My name is Nancy, and if you stay in town, come for a visit."

  "Thank you."

  Victoria pushed the tankard toward Nancy, turned, and walked out of the bar. Once again, eyes followed her as she went, but she didn't care. The potential was there for her to find good solid work, and she was not going to back down now that she was so close.

  ***

  As Leon walked through the woods, he heard the sound of loud snarling in the thicket. He stepped forward and glanced between some trees and saw a pack of wild wolves running back and forth over the carcass of a dead deer. He let out a deep, throaty growl of warning, and two of the wolves growled back at him with narrowed eyes.