by Barb Hendee
* * * *
The next morning, I woke up huddled beside a large tree and wrapped in my cloak. The morning air was cold, and I shivered. I was hungry and thirsty.
Worse, in daylight, above the thick trees, I could see the open sky and feel it pressing down upon me. But I could also see the sun rising directly behind me, and knew I’d been traveling in the correct direction. I simply had to keep my eyes off the sky as much as possible and continue making my way west until I reached the wide, main road through the estate land. Then I would turn north. Once back at the de Marco manor, I could tell my lady what happened. By now, I believed Lord Jean would regret having taken me from her, and she could sway him into allowing me to stay.
Thinking of all the space and distance above and around me was nearly paralyzing, and at first, I couldn’t move. Then I dragged one foot forward and began to walk.
Within several hours, the thirst began affecting me more than the sky, and I’d crossed no streams or water sources. By early afternoon, even in the cold air, I grew warm enough to begin sweating inside my cloak. I had never walked like this, on and on. The world began to spin around me, and I’d still crossed no stream. Birds chirped and sang from the trees, and several squirrels darted across my path.
Soon, I stumbled from near exhaustion, and the cloak and hem of my gown caught on a patch of brush around my feet. Jerking them free, I stumbled onward, but the fabric of my clothing was ripped and torn. I was hot now…so hot that my fingers pulled at the tie on my cloak, and I pulled my cloak from my shoulders, letting it drop to the ground and leaving it behind as I stumbled on.
By late afternoon, I was dizzy and having trouble staying on my feet.
In my mind, I heard Lady Giselle’s voice. “Kara! Where are you?”
I couldn’t answer her. The tissues of my mouth were too dry.
Then, up ahead, I heard the sound of rushing water and stumbled forward in wild hope.
But I stopped.
There, about six trees away, stood a man wearing armor and the purple and orange tabard of the king’s army. He jumped at the sight of me, as if I were a ghost emerging from the forest. Was I real?
Was he real?
The world spun all around me.
I didn’t want to be found by the king’s army, but…on the edge of my awareness, I knew I needed help. Maybe he would help me. Maybe he would take me to my lady.
Turning his head, he called out, “My lord?”
Footsteps sounded in the brush, and another man stepped into view. At the sight of him, I tried to cry out in despair, but no sound came from my throat.
It was Royce Capello.
His eyes widened. “Kara!”
I ran.
Whirling, I tried to escape through the trees, but in seconds he had a hold of my arm and drew me around, pulling me against his chest. Struggling wildly, I made a fist and hit his shoulder several times until he had me fully pinned against him.
“It’s me,” he said. “Kara, it’s me. You’re safe.”
My strength gave way, and I sagged in his grip.
“It’s me,” he said again, his mouth close to my ear. “You’re all right. I’ve found you, and you’re safe.”
Leaning down, he slipped one arm under the backs of my knees and lifted me. As my feet left the ground, the world spun faster, and I couldn’t help clinging to him now.
“Captain!” he called. “She’s burning up. Get me a horse!”
He began striding forward, and that was the last thing I remembered as everything around me went dark.
* * * *
When I came to awareness and opened my eyes, I was lying in a soft bed, covered by a thick blanket, with my head on a pillow…feeling so weak I didn’t try to sit up. But I wore a clean nightgown. From where I lay, the room around me appeared lavish, with cream walls, long lace curtains on the windows, and a large still-life painting on the wall—of pink roses and green apples.
There was a silk screen at the end of the bed, so I could not see far.
From beyond the screen, a man’s voice spoke.
“Well for the girl’s sake, of course I’m glad he found her, but that doesn’t solve our problem here.”
The voice was familiar: Lord Trey.
A woman laughed, and the soft sound was like music. “Really, my dear. You worry too much.”
“You’ve not met her, Adina, and I’m not joking. She’s defenseless, and Loraine will not be happy with Royce’s choice.”
“Loraine won’t be home for months, and after all this time, Royce must have chosen the girl for a reason. What is her name again?”
“Kara.” He sighed. “I told him to choose someone clever, witty, and strong. But this Kara is nearly silent and afraid of her own shadow.”
“Well, she must have some strength if she escaped from brigands and made it through the forest on her own.”
“Oh, and that’s another thing. He can’t stop talking about how he saved her. He sees himself as her hero. There’ll be no sending her back to de Marco now.”
Soft footsteps sounded, as if someone light crossed the room. “Tut, tut, my darling. Surely, you don’t want him to send her back? At least now he’ll have someone to keep him happy, to focus on his needs. Isn’t that what we’ve both wanted?”
“Yes…perhaps it will work out. But she’ll need to learn to handle his moods, and I still think Loraine will throw a fit. She’s known Royce was getting close to choosing a companion for some time now, but she’ll expect a grasping, ambitious girl from court, not some pretty, timid little nobody he might actually care for.”
The musical laugh sounded again. “Let me see what can be done. Off with you now, so I can check on the invalid. I’ll give you a full report at dinner.”
“All right. You know best in these matters, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Heavier footsteps sounded, followed by a door opening and closing.
Beneath the blankets, I tensed as the lighter footsteps came toward me…but then she came around the screen, and I saw her.
She was perhaps thirty years old, wearing a peach silk gown. Her eyes were lavender and her hair was a shade of light brown with blond flecks. It was elaborately curled, with much of it piled on top of her head and long, wavy strands hanging down over her shoulders. She had a hint of kohl painted around her eyes, and her heart-shaped mouth was tinted red.
She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
“Oh, my dear,” she said. “You are awake.”
Going to a side table, she simultaneously poured a glass of water and pulled on a bell rope.
Instantly, a maid called in, “Yes, my lady?”
“I want tea, toast, and warm beef broth brought in immediately.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The beautiful woman walked to me and sat on the bed, putting one hand gently behind my head. “Sip this, my dear.”
I drank the water gratefully and let her settle me back on the pillow.
For the first time, she really looked at me, taking in my face and eyes. “Goodness,” she said. “No wonder Royce has lost his head.”
I had no response.
“I am Adina,” she said, as if this would explain everything.
“Where am I?” I managed to whisper.
“Where are you? You’re home of course. Royce found you. Don’t you remember? He carried you last night, nearly exhausted himself.” She touched my forehead. “Your fever is broken, but you need rest. I think you’d gone too long without water.”
She had me take a few more sips, and her expression grew more serious.
“My dear. How did you escape from those thieves? Lord Trey would like to know.”
Her eyes were kind, and her concern for me was genuine. I could see this much for myself, and I was hungrier for the kindness
of a woman than I was for food. My first instinct was to tell her everything, but a warning bell went off in the back of my mind.
She would tell Lord Trey what I told her, and for some reason, I didn’t want Trey or Royce to know about the settlement. I could still see the women and children there. I could see the houses and gardens.
“They let me go,” I said. This was not entirely a lie. Raven had let me go.
“Let you go?” she repeated.
Remembering the argument between Caine and Raven not long after they had taken me, I said, “Only one of the men wanted to take me. The others did not, and Royce had threatened to send the king’s soldiers after them, so they put me off the horse and left me.”
This was a lie.
Her expression shifted to sympathy. “Oh, my dear. How awful. It’s a good thing Royce was out looking.”
Was it? I wasn’t sure.
I was glad for this woman’s presence, more than I could tell her. But who was she? She had called herself Adina, yet that meant little to me. I knew nothing of the family dynamics. As she was about the same age as Royce, she could not be his mother. Perhaps Royce’s mother was dead, and Adina was his stepmother.
“Are you Lord Trey’s wife?”
She laughed. “Goodness, no. I am companion to him, as you will be companion to Royce.”
A serving woman entered the room and carried a tray around the side of the silk screen.
“Set it here beside the bed and then leave us,” Adina ordered.
She had me sip some tea. Then she soaked bits of toast in beef broth and fed them to me. I had never tasted anything so good. When I was finished, Adina had me lay back against the pillows.
“Sleep now. You need rest. I’ll be in again later.”
Comfortable for the first time in days, I closed my eyes.
* * * *
I remained in bed that night and through part of the next day.
In the late afternoon—or perhaps early evening—I felt well enough to rise and explore my immediate surroundings, walking around the silk screen to better see the room. It was lovely, and much larger than I’d expected. As with the area near the bed, all the walls were painted in a soft cream. The burgundy carpet beneath my bare feet was thick, and the far wall sported a small hearth. There were low tables and long couches with velvet upholstery. The paintings were all still-lifes of flowers, from peonies to gladiolas.
Even I could see the furnishings were finer than anything in Lady Giselle’s apartments.
The door opened, and Adina entered with a graceful walk—carrying an armload of towels. She stopped at the sight of me standing there in my nightgown. Then she smiled.
“You’re up. I’m so glad. Royce is insistent you join us at the dinner table tonight, and I wasn’t sure what to tell him.”
My stomach tightened. “Dinner?”
“Yes, he’s not seen you since he carried you through the front doors.” Without noticing my anxiety, she set the towels near the hearth. “Do you like your room? There were several choices, but I thought this one best.”
“My room?”
So little of what this woman said made any sense.
“Of course,” she answered. “You must have a room. If you don’t care for this one, I can show you a few others.”
For the moment, this room felt safe. “No. I like this one.”
Before either one of us could speak again, the door opened, and two serving women carried in a tub. Several others followed with buckets of steaming water.
“I thought you’d like a bath,” Adina offered.
As I could hardly argue with her, I let myself be swept along. Once the tub was ready, she sent everyone else out. I bathed myself, and then Adina washed my hair. Once I stepped out of the water, she wrapped me in a thick blanket, and she towel-dried my hair.
Then she combed it out.
“Sit here on this couch while we wait for it to dry,” she said.
As I sat, something occurred to me. “Oh…Adina. I don’t have anything to wear at dinner. My trunk was taken.”
“I know. But I have more gowns than I can count, and I’ve had maids working on hemming enough of them to get you by until we can bring in a proper seamstress and order your wardrobe. Royce was surprisingly particular. Normally, he couldn’t care a fig about gowns, but he says he likes you in white, and a particular shade of very light blue.”
Something about this last part bothered me, but I wasn’t sure what.
“Don’t worry, my dear,” she went on. “I have several gowns ready for you, and dinner will be a simple family affair.”
This gave me an opening. “Who will be there?”
“Only you and I and Lord Trey and Royce.”
From yesterday, I remembered Lord Trey saying that Royce’s wife would be away for several months, but what about Trey’s wife?
Adina was watching my face. “What do you know of the family?”
“Nothing. Is Lord Trey married?”
She sat down beside me, fluffing my hair as it dried. “He was…to Royce’s mother.” I heard pain in her voice. “We lost sweet Marianne five years ago.”
This didn’t help me much. “How long have you been here?”
“Me? Goodness. Since I was about your age.” She suddenly seemed to understand that I truly knew nothing of the family. Perhaps she believed they were so well known that everyone knew their story. “Trey and Marianne married young, and he adored her. Everyone adored her. She had a wonderful warmth about her. Royce was born soon after, but Marianne was never strong, and no more children followed. Around the time Royce became a man, Trey decided to take on a formal companion—and Marianne fully approved. Many girls from the noble families were hopeful, but my father is Pierre des Brumes, and Trey made an arrangement with him.”
I followed only about half of what she said, but it appeared that she had been Trey’s mistress since around the age of eighteen, and her position was envied.
“You were happy?” I asked.
“Oh, very. Marianne was kind to me, and we all did quite well here together until Royce married Loraine…and then things were not quite as before.”
“Why?”
She hesitated. “You still have much to learn here, and I shouldn’t say too much. But five years ago, Trey hosted a hunting party, and Marianne insisted on riding. She fell from her horse over a jump and was killed. The house went into a kind of mourning I’d never known. It took us over a year to recover.”
Adina closed her eyes, and I could see how fond she’d been of Royce’s mother. But the story was oddly close to home for me. My own father had died falling from a horse. Even though I’d never known him, this seemed to make for an unexpected connection between Royce and myself.
Opening her eyes, Adina stood. “So, that is our story.” Leaning down, she touched my hand. “I have been happy here, and I hope you will be too. But I do fear Royce may be a bit more of a challenge than his father.”
I wanted her to elaborate on that last part.
The door opened, and a young woman, perhaps a few years older than me walked in carrying a white silk gown. Adina went to her. “Yes, Abigail. That’s the gown. Bring it in.” Turning back to me, she said, “This is Abigail. She will be your personal maid. You don’t need to worry. She’s very skilled. I trained her myself.”
A personal maid? For me?
Before I could speak, Adina walked to the door. “Now, I must go and dress for dinner myself. Kara, I’ll meet you in the dining room. Abigail will show you the way.”
Then she was gone, and I was alone with Abigail. She was pretty, with a smattering of freckles. Her red hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck.
“May I get you dressed, my lady?” she asked.
I was not a lady. I was the illegitimate daughter of a lady’s maid. But
I had no idea what was happening here, and so I simply stood up.
I let Abigail help get me into my undergarments, and then I stepped into the gown so she might lace me in. After this, she heated a round iron and curled my hair, leaving it down.
But then…she leaned in to paint kohl at the corners of my eyes.
“Oh, no,” I said. “I don’t wear any kind of makeup.”
Lord Jean had always disapproved.
“Lady Adina was most particular in her instructions,” Abigail answered.
Not knowing my power here, I let her paint the kohl at the corners of my eyes, and she tinted my mouth red. Finally, she hung a crystal pendant around my neck and helped me into a pair of slippers.
I was ready.
“May I show you to the dining room, my lady?” she asked.
* * * *
The journey down took longer than I anticipated, and I was beginning to gain an understanding of the sheer size of the house. My room was on the third floor.
We descended three flights of stairs, past countless paintings and wall sconces—and two suits of armor. On the main floor, Abigail led me down a long, wide wall, and I could see an open arch up ahead.
“Through there, my lady,” she said.
Clearly, she was not going any farther.
With a nod, I walked forward, passing through the archway into a vast dining room. The table would have easily seated thirty people. In here, the walls were painted red, and the paintings depicted images of noblemen on horseback.
Royce, Trey, and Adina all stood near the far end of the table sipping glasses of wine.
When I entered, Royce turned and took in the sight of me.
Striding to me quickly he took my hand. There was a dark bruise from his left temple to the outside of his jaw. I hadn’t noticed this in the forest when he found me, but I now remembered that Caine had kicked him in the head. I could not imagine what it would feel like to be kicked by Caine.
“Kara,” Royce said. “Are you well? Adina told me those men released you, but I hope you did not suffer long. I found you as quickly as I could.”