Bessie

by Jackie Ivie

  “Because they all have red hair, they’re servant wenches, and you’re hiring the help. Need I add to that?”

  Alicia stifled a giggle by covering her mouth with a linen napkin. Bess knew exactly what it was. To both brothers, it probably sounded like she was choking.

  “Are you all right, Alicia?”

  She answered Devon by nodding her head.

  “I am still waiting for an answer, Bessie? Or need I specify the question further?”

  “Well. You show a certain penchant for serving wenches with red hair. I was simply making certain you had plenty of them. Was I mistaken?”

  “But, these are all ugly!”

  “Not all of them, James. Surely. It would have been too much to expect my wife to procure that, although she probably tried.”

  “What happened to the pretty one, then?”

  “I’d rather know what happened to Will,” Devon answered.

  “Will? Is he missing, too?”

  “You’re an observant sort, James. I look forward to finding the perfect wife for you, I do,” Bess said sweetly.

  “I’d rather have Devon pick her out, I think. You’d pick me an ugly one.”

  “It would be my fondest wish, yes.”

  “Like Devon got stuck with?” James continued.

  There was an audible gasp about the table. Bessie waited for a moment before answering.

  “You should be as lucky,” she replied.

  “If that’s luck, he needs a change of it.”

  “That’s enough, James.”

  “But, Devon—!”

  “Enough.”

  James sent one more glare her way before turning back to his meal. Devon regarded her without any expression from his end of the table.

  “So, tell me. Where has Will gone to? I’ve not seen him about for more than a day. He always was a shady sort, but he’d never miss a meal. Has anyone seen him?”

  “I sent him to Stansbury.”

  “What the devil for? They’ll not welcome him, there!” Francis blustered and slapped down his spoon.

  “Calm yourself, Uncle Francis. If he wasn’t going to be safe, I wouldn’t have sent him.”

  “You see what I have to put up with each and every day, Devon? I’m at my wit’s end dealing with your wife. The least you can do is stay and handle her.”

  “What has she done?”

  “She’s got Henry building floors and drawing up plans, Byron up to his elbows in books, Will is at the enemy’s camp, the girls are trotting about to what she calls music, and God knows what else.”

  “Sounds terrible. No wonder you’re up in arms. I’d suggest you move to the North wing. I understand it’s near livable, again.”

  “Well! I don’t have to stay and listen to this!”

  “I will have your supper warmed over for you, then.”

  Uncle Francis had shoved his chair out and glared from Devon to her. Bessie was too surprised to say anything. She hadn’t had to fight for herself and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. She’d been defended twice by Devon in less time than it took to finish one bowl of soup. It was an exhilarating feeling.

  Uncle Francis’s belly won out. Bessie wasn’t the only one watching as he sat back down and began eating again.

  “You see? I told you my brother, Devon was wonderful,” Lizzy said.

  ~ ~ ~

  Bessie started up from her pillows in fear and clasped the blanket to her chin. It took a few moments to calm her heartbeat. Something had startled her awake. She rubbed at her cheek with a hand that trembled.

  She wasn’t the bravest sort, but she had to find out what it was. It could be a rat, and there was nothing worse. She’d never be able to sleep with rats about. Bessie fumbled across the top of her covers for her dressing gown. Her hands stilled in worry as she came across a warm indentation near the side. She kept her hands there for the longest time as it cooled.

  She couldn’t have made it. She always slept in one position. In the exact center of her mattress. She rarely moved.

  Perhaps, it was a cat. Hilde Castle had several of them. That would explain the brush against her face and the warm spot on her bed. It was better than envisioning rats, too.

  Her eyes were becoming accustomed to the dark. She could make out lumps of furniture about. She could also see her shutter was ajar, again. Bess forgot all about the dressing gown. She’d fastened those shutters herself, and no cats climbed through windows four stories from the ground.

  Bessie set her chin. If Will had returned and was playing his games, she’d see him chastised. Severely. She didn’t question how, either. She instinctively knew all she’d have to do was tell Devon.

  “Hold there! I see one!”

  Bessie was halfway to the window when she heard the shout.

  “Right there! No! Back a bit...there!”

  Bessie dragged the stool to the window and climbed it. The shutters were as heavy as they looked and she shoved them open with a grunt.

  “Mark it, and move on! We haven’t got all night.”

  “Henry?”

  Bessie tipped her upper body out the window and looked along the side. It was Henry, all right. He was dressed in white or she’d not have seen him. Her breath caught in fear. He was actually a bit above her and looked to be climbing even higher.

  “Henry? That is you, isn’t it?”

  “Oh. I’m sorry to awaken you, my lady. My lady?”

  He looked down at her, his mouth gaped open, and then he slid. She gathered her breath to scream, but he caught himself, stopping his fall. And then he lurched sideways, sliding along the wall to reach her window opening. He was panting.

  “That...was...close.”

  “You’re mad.”

  “And you are the redhead.”

  “You boys will try anything to find out my secret, won’t you?”

  “Actually, I’m looking for holes. The mortar is in dreadful shape. We have gaps everywhere.”

  “How does this work?”

  His answer was forestalled by voices coming from somewhere above them.

  “Sir Henry? Sir? Where did you go?”

  “He fell? Oh dear! We’re in dreadful trouble.”

  “I’m fine! I’ll be right there! I’ll have to climb back up, though. Wait for me.”

  Henry had pulled back to yell it. Bessie retreated back into her room, and the shadow of a shutter. She peeked from there.

  “Oh. Thank the Lord.”

  Henry turned back to her. “The workmen worry needlessly. There are enough toe and handholds in this old rock to climb it blind-folded. I have been doing it for years.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Bessie answered in a flat tone.

  He grinned. In the moonlight, it made him look even more like Devon.

  “In answer to your question, we’re moving torches from room to room. I can see where the light’s coming from, and then they mark it for me. It’s a simple matter to fill it.”

  “Can’t this be done safely? In the light of day?”

  “I can’t see light coming out then.”

  “No, but you could see the light coming in, couldn’t you?”

  “I thought of that. I even tried it. It takes too long. You have to go over every bit of wall. Takes bloody forever. I’ve got to go now. They’ll worry.”

  “You won’t tell...Devon, will you?”

  “Uh. No. Your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t tell Olivia, James, or Lizzy, though. James would run to Devon with it, Olivia would use it to her own ends, and Lizzy can’t keep anything secret.”

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a sister?”

  Bessie giggled. “Get away with you. You’re turning my head, you are.”

  “That’s what a man’s supposed to do with a pretty woman. You were right at sup. Devon is one lucky fellow. I hope he realizes it.”

  Henry reached up with one hand and
started climbing.

  “Can I ask you something, now?”

  He stopped, turned his head against the wall toward her and waited.

  “Did you see anyone else out here, tonight?”

  His mouth twisted. “On the walls at night? Who else would be so crazed?”

  “You didn’t see anyone?”

  “Not a soul.”

  He turned his face away, reached with his other hand and pulled himself upward. Bess pushed the shutters back together, refastened them, put the stool away and walked to her bed, feeling her way the entire time. Henry must have kicked the shutters open without meaning to when he went by.

  That had to be the explanation.

  Anything else was too fanciful.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “We are missing rosemary. I could have sworn we picked it. Do you remember the spot, Regina?” Bessie asked.

  “No.”

  “Very well. I’ll go get some more. Don’t let this boil over in my absence.”

  Bessie stirred the miniature pot. She’d decided to work on perfume this morning. She was simmering a concoction of herbs. She sniffed at the aroma. It was divine.

  “I’ll make certain it doesn’t.”

  “Thank you, Augusta. You are a love.”

  “You only say that because she keeps such a close watch on me.” Regina sounded militant, but her expression didn’t match.

  “Stop complaining, young lady. You get into too many fixes if I don’t. Run along, my lady. We’ll make certain this brew stays bubbly.”

  Regina looked heavenward. Bess smiled behind her veil. Augusta had taken a distinct liking to the wildest Hildebrand lass. Regina seemed to feel the same about the older woman. She seemed to go out of her way to find Augusta. Most likely, it was the constant mothering and scolding. Regina hadn’t had enough of it.

  Bessie had only been here just over a sennight. It felt like so much longer! She felt wanted. Needed. She’d never felt either of those.

  She reached the thickets before unfastening her veil and hanging it on a branch. She didn’t dare take off her headdress. James was on the prowl for the redhead. He’d announced it at sup last night.

  Alicia wasn’t the only one stifling a reaction when the redhead was mentioned. Now, Henry had that affliction, too. Bess was in luck that Byron was the quiet, thoughtful type. He wasn’t giving away anything.

  She’d best hurry. The rosemary bushes weren’t close to the castle wall. She’d spotted the light blue flowers after two afternoons of searching. The Hildebrands hadn’t planted much in the way of an herb garden. She was going to correct the situation after the gala at Stansbury. She was planning on changing several things after the masquerade, starting with her situation with Devon.

  He’d been absent now for almost three days.

  She’d thought she missed him before!

  She sighed, and put her attention on where she stepped. The Hildebrands hadn’t kept up with any landscaping, either. The path she followed was a prime example. It was barely negotiable, with more holes and roots and stones clogging the passage than the driveway. She shook her head and concentrated on not tripping.

  “Hello, lovely one. And look. You covered your hair, despite my request.”

  Bessie stopped the moment Devon spoke. She shut her eyes tightly and then opened them again. Devon didn’t disappear. Neither did his horse, Black-Heart.

  “What brings such an expression to your face, I wonder?”

  “I...was trying not to trip.”

  “Oh. I can solve that. Come up on my horse. He’s well-trained and very sure-footed.”

  He bent and reached for her hand. Bessie told herself not to allow this. She should decline. Turn about. Give some signal that she wasn’t interested. She should do anything other than move toward him and put her hand in his.

  Nothing worked.

  He might have known of her indecision, for as soon as he had her hand, he hauled her into a position in front of him, one of her legs bent, the other trailing alongside his. And she’d known how it would feel before she got there. Devon wrapped an arm about her waist, holding her securely to him, while the other skimmed her side and held the reins. Despite knowing the error it was, Bessie leaned back into the embrace. Breathed deeply. She’d been right. It was heaven.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “I shouldn’t be riding with you. I shouldn’t. It will come...to naught.”

  “You smell wondrously fair. Always. I can tell it’s you, even if you hide your hair. I could tell anywhere, I think.”

  Except when it was hidden beneath widow’s weeds!

  It was a very good thing she was sitting before him. That way he couldn’t see her expression. He’d never know how much his words pained.

  “You...don’t know me well enough for such words.”

  “Perhaps. But I can dream, can’t I?”

  “Please?”

  The trees shimmered into a wash of browns and greens. Bessie watched them for a bit. She didn’t dare blink. The horse started picking its way through the overgrowth.

  “Please what?” he answered. “Please, take me away? Make me forget I’ve a husband and duties to see to?”

  “No. Oh...I don’t know.”

  “Please, make me forget everything? Grant me the moon, and then turn me loose among the stars?”

  All that and more.

  He’d stolen her breath and sent her even nearer to tears. He definitely possessed a poet’s soul. Just like Bryon. It was a shame he hadn’t the ability to write his words down, though. Then again, had he demonstrated the talent at court, he’d have had even more ladies enthralled.

  “How did you find me?” she finally asked.

  He sighed deeply. Her head rose and fell with it. “I must confess. I have been looking for you. I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw you leave the castle walls. It has been impossible to find you anywhere inside.”

  “Why is that?”

  “My wife hired redhead servants. Leagues of them.”

  “How did you know it was me leaving the grounds, then?”

  “Instinct.”

  As soon as she asked it, she knew she’d rather not know. And once he answered, she was certain.

  “Besides, I couldn’t let you get far from the safety of the castle. Not by yourself. My brother, James, has challenged me. He believes if you met him, you’d find him as desirous.”

  “I never said I found you so.”

  He chuckled. Breath brushed her shoulder. “No. You didn’t.”

  He put Black-Heart into a canter with the slight pressure of his legs. Bessie had already seen his affinity to his steed. She closed her eyes for a bit to let the air caress her face and tried to tell herself what she was doing was the right thing. She opened her eyes.

  “There will be trouble if I am gone long,” she said over her shoulder.

  “It’s not much farther.”

  “Where?”

  “I have decided to show you what I’ve been doing.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s the best I can think of. Otherwise, I might pick a shady copse of trees, hobble my horse, and find all sorts of trouble.”

  Bessie gulped. “I’m sorry I asked.”

  “I’m not.”

  Black-Heart broke into a run. Bessie had never gone so fast. If she didn’t have Devon’s arms about her, she’d be holding her breath in fear. She couldn’t speak to him for a bit, due to the speed they were moving at. She wondered if it was what also kept him silent.

  She recognized where they were when he slowed. He’d brought her back to his new marshland. The trees were exactly as she remembered, and the ground was probably just as muddy. She didn’t check to verify anything. She was trying to pretend she’d never seen it before.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “Of what?”

  “This area used to be so wet Black-Heart would be bogged down by now.”

&n
bsp; Bessie looked down. Devon was right. Black-Heart was still walking on dry ground.

  “You’re draining it!”

  She swiveled and looked up at him. The expression on his face was going to make her nights even more sleepless. His head was tipped toward her, his eyes were in shadow, and a smile hovered on his lips.

  “Is it so surprising? I am not witless, albeit that is my wife’s opinion.”

  Bessie turned back around. She was afraid of what she might give away. “Your wife finds you witless?”

  “Why else would I be snatching pretty wenches from the garden path?”

  “Do you snatch up every pretty wench? Or just me?”

  “Jealous?”

  “No. Just...curious.”

  “Liar.”

  His voice lowered in pitch and volume. Bess felt the hairs at the back of her neck rising. Devon moved his arm from about her waist to the cloth covering her head. She felt his fingers move to one side before she felt his lips. She gasped, shimmied away, and then held herself stiff. Erect.

  “You...were showing me what you’ve been doing.”

  He lifted his head. She knew he sighed. She didn’t feel it because she held herself away from contact with him.

  “Aye. That, I was. My thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “Honor and trust once lost...are difficult to regain. Come. I brought you here to show you what we are doing. And how it works.”

  “We?”

  “My brother, James. He’s handy to have about. You’ll see.” The horse stopped before a series of cantilevers and earthen dams. “We have arrived. What do you think?”

  “What is that?” Bessie pointed at the pattern of black stripes in the ground.

  “Furrows. We dug them through the soil to the pond. Drains the water better than we’d hoped.”

  “You made the pond.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Simple, there is no tall grass around the edges.”

  He whistled above her. The horse knelt, front feet first. Then the flanks. Bessie’s eyes widened even farther. No wonder Devon had excelled at the tourney. His horse was extremely well-trained, just as he’d said.

  “Here. I’ll just carry you over the worst of it.”

  Devon had already lifted her, taking away her choice.