Kohl, Candice - A Twist in Time.txt

by A Twist in Time. txt (lit)

  true love.” His eyes locked on Judy’s. “I should very much

  like to know true love myself one day, but I fear I haven’t

  the time required to search for it. I suppose I’d best hie

  myself off to Winfield and make do.”

  Flashing a sheepish smile, Philip took Judy’s hand.

  “Forgive me, my lady. My only excuse is that I did care

  for you greatly. In truth, I still do. But I see now that

  Andrew loves you more than I ever would, because he’s

  made a sacrifice I never could.” He released Judy’s

  fingers and looked up at Andrew. “You are indeed the

  better man.”

  They hugged, as men did in this time, not in Judy’s.

  Then Philip wheeled toward the women who had

  returned to their chairs. “Forgive me, my ladies, for

  behaving so badly and disrupting your hall. The next

  time I visit, I vow I shall be better mannered, for

  hopefully, I’ll have a new bride on my arm.”

  “You’re forgiven,” Lady Ardith assured him with a

  smile and a nod. “You are always forgiven.”

  Philip left quickly then.

  Beatrix observed, “We seem to have missed a great

  deal while we were away. Who is Lady Penelope?”

  “Never mind that now,” Camilla said. “Wherever did

  that dagger come from?”

  Camilla wouldn’t let Judy rewrap the knife. She took

  it, admired the hilt, and passed it on to her sister.

  “Judith helped me obtain that ceremonial blade,”

  Andrew admitted. “She would make a fine merchant,

  the way she barters down a price. ’Tis a gift for Father

  on his natal day.”

  “It is beautiful. He’ll be well-pleased,” Beatrix

  predicted.

  “Have you had word from him?” Andrew asked his

  mother.

  “Reports are that matters with the king are

  proceeding smoothly. No doubt he should be returning

  soon.” Ardith turned to look at Judy. “I see you are handy

  with a weapon, dear. How are you with a needle or a pot

  and a spoon?”

  Judy blinked. She couldn’t sew a button on that

  stayed put through one machine washing. Her culinary

  skills centered on microwaves and frozen entrees,

  though she could stir fry just about any combination of

  ingredients. But Judy suspected Chinese food rarely

  appeared on the menu at Laycock Keep.

  “Mother, I have no land, no keep or manse,” Andrew

  reminded Ardith. “Judith has, therefore, no need to learn

  the skills of a chatelaine.”

  “But she said she was raised up a lady,” Beatrix

  recalled.

  “The customs in her country are different than

  ours.”

  “What country is that?” Camilla asked.

  “It’s called America,” Andrew said truthfully.

  “You’re correct. I never have heard of it.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he insisted, and Judy sensed he

  felt as tense now as she had been earlier. “While at

  Laycock, Judith should be treated as a guest. When we

  leave—”

  “When you leave,” Ardith put in, “Judith will have to

  make you a home wherever you go. And she is in

  England, now, so while you are here, let me help prepare

  her for the duties of a wife wed to a Laycock lord.”

  “Mother, please.”

  “It’s all right, Andrew.” Judy put her hand on his

  arm. “I do have to learn your ways. I don’t think we have

  any intention of returning to my homeland, do we?”

  He gave her a look as Ardith said, “You’re a wise

  woman, Judith. Now, come with me.”

  ***

  Judy stood over a cauldron in the bailey. She and

  Sally were stirring the family’s woolens as they soaked

  in vats of water boiling over open fires.

  She remembered envying the common folk who

  toiled as laborers at Laycock Keep. She had thought even

  their endless chores seemed preferable to the boredom

  she’d known. Boy, had she been wrong.

  It never ended. From dawn to dusk and beyond, seven

  days a week, when she completed one task another

  demanded her attention. Or whatever she’d finished

  needed doing all over again. That old saw about a

  woman’s work never being done must have had its

  origins in medieval times. Women who complained in

  her own era hadn’t a clue what they were talking about.

  And what was with this laundry? It had seemed to

  Judy, during those first weeks she’d lived at Laycock

  Keep, that the wash house sat neglected, these very

  cauldrons upended and dusty from disuse. Since Lady

  Ardith had arrived, the bottoms never had a chance to

  dry before they were refilled with water and clothing.

  The belief that the aristocracy lived lives of

  pampered leisure was a crock, too. Judy noticed she

  was standing out here in the sun, stirring stinky, wet

  wool right alongside Sally. Except for their clothing,

  nobody could have discerned who was the lady, who was

  the servant!

  She grumbled a profanity beneath her breath,

  wiping her damp brow with the back of her hand. She

  didn’t know if the moisture was sweat or steam, but

  she knew she’d give anything to take a dip in that frigid

  stream that flowed through the demesne.

  “Milady!”

  She thought Sally intended to reprimand her for

  swearing. But when she glanced at the girl, she found

  her pointing toward the keep. “What is it?”

  “The baron is home, along with Lords Elfred and

  Robin.”

  Judy shaded her eyes with her hand. Three men

  had indeed ridden into the bailey. They were

  dismounting and heading inside the keep even now.

  “Give me that.” Sally took the wooden pole Judy had

  been using to stir her kettle of wash. “You’d best go

  indoors. I’m sure Lord Andrew will be wanting to

  introduce you.”

  “Oh, no! I look awful.”

  “Nay, you do not, Lady Judith. Just put your scarf

  back on.” Sally handed her the discarded veil and the

  pounded brass circlet that would hold it in place. “Lord

  Thomas might find your shorn locks a trifle unusual.”

  “Great.” Judy slapped the head gear on and arranged

  the gauzy scarf so that it draped the sides of her face,

  obscuring her short hair. Then, resigned but a little

  curious, she headed up to the keep.

  Everyone had gathered in the great hall except for

  Andrew. Noticing his absence, Judy hung back, clinging

  to the shadows of the stone arch.

  “Judith, come here,” Ardith beckoned with a wave.

  Reluctantly, she crossed the room to the opposite end

  where the Laycock clan had settled themselves in a

  grouping of chairs near the fire pit. “Thomas, I’ve

  someone you must meet.”

  “You!” Elfred said, pointing at her. “You remain here?”

  “Aye, of course she does,” his mother told him.

  “Judith is Andrew’s wife.”

  “Wife! He took the witch to wife?” He addressed his

  question to some
one behind Judy.

  “Damn you to hell, Elfred—Judith is not a witch,”

  Andrew returned, shouting from the doorway. Then he

  stomped angrily across the room toward his family,

  halting only when he stood nose-to-nose with Elfred.

  “Control yourselves, lads,” Thomas of Laycock

  ordered sternly. “What is this your mother tells me,

  Andrew? You’ve taken a wife?”

  The baron shifted his gaze to peer at Judy

  appraisingly, and she returned his perusal. Lord Thomas

  remained a good-looking man, straight backed and

  square shouldered, though he had more gray than brown

  in his hair and his beard. Judy realized that in 30 years,

  Andrew would look much the same.

  “Aye, Father,” he confirmed. “Allow me to introduce

  Lady Judith.”

  “Though a surprise, ’tis a pleasure.” He nodded at

  her, his dark eyes alight.

  “A pleasure to meet you, my lord,” Judy returned.

  “I did not expect this,” Robin admitted, looking at

  Andrew.

  “Nor I, last time we spoke.”

  “Then she is Peter Lamb’s daughter?” Elfred asked,

  looking skeptical as he cocked one eyebrow.

  “Do not speak of my wife as though she were absent,”

  Andrew warned.

  “Sit, please,” the baron ordered, gesturing to Judy

  and Andrew.

  They took the last empty chairs, and though Judy

  didn’t know what the protocol was, she ventured to

  answer Elfred’s question. “No,” she said, “I am not related

  to Peter Lamb.”

  “I knew it! She’s a sorceress who’s bewitched

  Andrew.”

  Lord Thomas said nothing. He merely turned his

  head and gave his middle son a look that caused Elfred

  to clamp his lips shut so tightly, they bled white.

  “Tell me where you hail from, my lady, and how you

  came to wed my youngest son.”

  Judy had her story down pat now. She related it again

  for the baron’s benefit.

  “Fascinating,” he said when she finished. Judy

  wondered if he used that word as she used “interesting”

  when commenting on a manuscript she didn’t care for.

  Then Lord Thomas settled his gaze on Andrew.

  “Latter born sons usually wed women who have the

  means to support them, through wealth or land. Your

  bride admits having naught, Andrew. What do you

  intend?”

  “My choices remain the same, Father, except I’d no

  longer consider the priesthood.” He smiled at his own

  little joke. Then the smile vanished, and he said

  soberly, “Judith and I shall leave Laycock. I will hire

  myself out to some baron or landed lord who needs

  another good sword arm to protect his fief. Mayhap,

  though...” He hesitated. “Mayhap Judith could remain

  with you at the keep while I am away.”

  Judy felt as though she’d been sucker-punched.

  Andrew had married her, and now he intended to leave

  her to be one of those knights who dined in the hall and

  slept on the floor in some other lord’s keep? “Andrew!”

  He ignored her soft cry and said to his father, “Before

  we speak of this matter in earnest, I’ve something for

  you. ’Tis why Judith and I remained at Laycock awaiting

  your return.”

  Judy glanced at Andrew’s lap. The cloth-wrapped

  dagger lay on his thighs.

  “I’ve something for you as well, Andrew. I have a few

  drafts of the barons’ demands, to which the king put his

  hand. Since he finally signed the charter itself, I thought

  you might be curious to read what we devised. Among

  you three—” Thomas glanced at all his sons— “you have

  always been the most curious.”

  Judy felt her heart skip a beat. If she were not so

  distraught over her husband’s plans to abandon her to

  earn a living as a mercenary warrior, she’d have

  indulged in amazement. To think, Lord Thomas had just

  brought home the very parchments that would survive

  to her own time, when Carla would visit Viscount

  Laycock to study them for her book!

  Andrew must have realized the same. He glanced

  at Judy sidelong, though he spoke to his father. “Thank

  you. I am keen to read them. But now, in honor of your

  natal day.” He handed the knife to Thomas.

  The baron unwrapped it and held the weapon up. A

  shaft of sunlight piercing the stone wall through the

  cross-shaped arrow slits hit the garnets and amethysts,

  the topazes and aquamarines, so that white light speared

  and flickered off the hilt. Those who hadn’t seen the

  dagger before, Andrew’s father and brothers, made soft

  sounds of awe and admiration.

  Thomas smiled warmly as he raised his dark eyes

  to his youngest son’s. “Thank you, lad, from my heart. I

  will treasure this weapon and see it holds an honored

  place in our family for generations to come. All should

  know ’twas you who gifted me with it.”

  Andrew looked as pleased as his father. Judy should

  have felt just as pleased—it was she who had helped

  engineer this moment. But she couldn’t think of

  anything but Andrew leaving her. The worry crowded

  out all other thoughts and emotions.

  Thomas himself returned to that topic. He said, “I

  am a landed lord, a baron. I have need of trained men to

  protect my keep, my demesne, and the people in the

  village.”

  “You are offering a position to Andrew?” Elfred

  whined. “But he is your youngest. You’ve not offered

  anything to me!”

  Thomas looked at Elfred. “I thought you preferred

  roaming the country with your comrades, entering

  tourneys and the like.”

  “I do. But—but I forewent such things to assist you

  and Robin during the negotiations with Lackland.”

  “Aye, you did. Well, Elfred, if you wish to be a

  permanent knight in my employ, you’ve only to say so.”

  “I do!” Elfred grinned. His smile turned rather smug,

  Judy thought, when he turned toward Andrew.

  “For you, though, Andrew, I have another position

  in mind. One I’ve thought Laycock Keep has needed for

  some time. Would you consider becoming my

  seneschal?”

  He didn’t reply yea or nay. Impatient, curious, Judy

  whispered, “What’s a seneschal?”

  “A castle-keeper,” Andrew explained. “Chief officer

  in a baron’s household. Among other duties, the

  seneschal represents his lord in courts of law.”

  “Oh.” It sounded impressive. Better, it meant Andrew

  would remain at Laycock Keep, and so could she. “Well,

  say aye, you’ll be glad to,” she urged.

  Andrew’s sisters giggled and Lady Ardith laughed.

  “Say aye,” she prodded also. “’Tis best you learn to listen

  to your lady wife and heed what she says.”

  “Your mother is right,” Lord Thomas confirmed.

  Andrew glanced at them all, his parents and Judy.

  Then he nodded and said, “Aye.”

  Twent
y-three

  “Judith!”

  She paused on the stairs, raised her sagging head,

  and turned to look down. There, Beatrix stood on a lower

  step just above the floor of the great hall. “Yes?”

  “After the evening meal, Camilla and I will be sorting

  flowers, roots and leaves to mix into tisanes. If you’d

  like to join us, you’re welcome.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Judy replied before continuing

  up the stairs to her room.

  She’d lied. She didn’t intend to think about sorting

  weeds for medicinal use, unless— No. Whatever they

  used in this era for a toothache could not cure the one

  that had been nagging her since the evening the baron

  had returned to Laycock Keep. The only procedure sure

  to eliminate the pain was a root canal, which Judy’s

  dentist had suggested she attend to promptly, but which,

  of course, she had put off. Now she had no dentist! She

  was even running out of aspirin and ibuprofen, popping

  the pills as though they were breath mints. What, she

  wondered, did people born to this time do when their

  teeth hurt like hers did? Did they pull them? Judy

  wouldn’t mind having her tooth pulled—by next week,

  she’d pull it herself, if she had to. But it wasn’t the sort

  of tooth a person could yank by tying a string to a

  doorknob, and she didn’t dare conjecture about any

  medieval methods for tooth extraction.

  She shouldered open the door to hers and Andrew’s

  room and stumbled inside. Long, late afternoon shadows

  streaked the walls, for which she felt grateful. God knew

  she needed peace, quiet, solitude and darkness.

  Flinging off her annoying veil and chaplet, which

  she wouldn’t have to wear if her hair was long enough

  not to shock the family, Judy crawled onto the bed and

  curled up in a fetal position. She wept, unsure whether

  the pain in her mouth or the agony of her days made

  her so miserable.

  It could as easily have been the one as the other.

  Her cheek felt swollen, but so did her feet, for she’d been

  on them all day following Lady Ardith around the keep

  and the demesne. Good grief, the woman never sat still

  for a second! If she wasn’t supervising the servants,

  she was seeing to the villagers, tending them in illness,

  injury and childbirth. Or she was making beer. Judy

  had never suspected Laycock Keep functioned as a