The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past Book 4)

by Irina Shapiro

  “Have you spoken to your mother about it?”

  “She’s moved back home, but she hasn’t been herself, Quinn. I think she’s depressed.”

  “She’s still grieving for your dad.”

  “Of course she is, but it’s more than that. It’s almost like she can’t stand being in that house. She’s even taken up gardening, which she hates, just to get outside.”

  “She’s lonely, that’s all.”

  “It’s a lonely place,” Gabe replied with a sigh.

  Chapter 40

  January 1463

  Berwick-upon-Tweed, Northumberland

  The half-light of dawn was just beginning to chase away the darkness of night when Kate came slowly awake. She’d drunk more than usual last night, having been invited to Stanwyck Hall along with Hugh, Guy, and Eleanor to celebrate the end of the Bamburgh Castle siege. The Earl of Stanwyck had entertained all his knights and their spouses at a gathering that had begun at noon and turned raucous by nightfall. Hugh had been in fine spirits, but Kate sensed a suppressed anger in him, and feared it might be directed toward her, although she couldn’t see what she’d done to give offense since he hadn’t seen her since November and her letters to him had been brief and not overly detailed.

  Hugh and Guy had returned the day before—tired, hungry, and desperate for a wash after camping out on the field outside Bamburgh Castle for over a month and not bothering to shave or partake in anything more than a compulsory wash. Even Walter had sported a sparse beard, of which he’d been exceedingly proud. Joan had spent hours heating water, while Alf and Walter carried up steaming buckets to Hugh and Guy’s rooms, along with their newly sharpened daggers so they could shave. They’d emerged by suppertime, looking like they’d shaved a decade off their appearance. Aileen had put an arm over her nose when she collected their clothes and hose. No words had been needed to express how foul they smelled. Walter had had to wait his turn for a bath, but he’d been pleased as punch when he finally got his turn and washed away the sweat and grime of the past weeks. He’d considered keeping the beard, but Aileen had shaken her head when he asked if he should let it grow, and handed him his dagger and a small looking glass, making a shaving gesture with her hand. Walter had taken her advice. They’d all had a pleasant supper together, and Hugh and Guy had regaled everyone with stories of the siege. Even Adam had been allowed to join the adults so he could enjoy the evening until being sent off to bed.

  Now, the morning after the Earl of Stanwyck’s supper, Kate carefully inched away from Hugh so as not to wake him.

  His arm shot out and grabbed her about the waist. “Don’t go,” he said sleepily. “I’ve missed you.”

  Kate froze. Hugh’s words could mean only one thing and every fiber of her being screamed in protest. He’d had a go at her as soon as he was done with his bath after returning from the siege, then again after supper, and last night when they’d returned from the feast in the early hours. Kate’s tender flesh was sore and her thighs were sticky with Hugh’s seed.

  “Hugh, please,” she whispered in desperation.

  He rolled on top of her, pinned her wrists to the bed, and gave her an unfocused stare. “Please what?” he growled.

  Kate was surprised that after the amount of wine and mead he’d consumed last night he was even awake, much less coherent. “Please, not again,” she said, her voice barely audible. This was the first time since they’d married that she’d shown a reluctance to perform her wifely duty.

  Hugh’s eyes opened wide, no longer clouded with drink and sleep, and his mouth twisted into a grimace of fury. The slap that followed left Kate reeling, more with shock than pain. Her teeth rattled with the force of Hugh’s anger and tears sprang to her eyes. He had never struck her before.

  “Not again?” Hugh hissed as he pushed up her nightdress and drove his knee between her legs. “Not again? You ungrateful bitch. You should be thankful that I still want to fuck you, seeing as you’ve given me no children in nearly three years of marriage.” He rammed into her with the full force of his body and Kate cried out in pain. Thrusting hard, he muttered under his breath, “And now your sire’s gone and got married, and begot himself another brat. You know what this means, sweetness, don’t you? You’re useless to me. You’ll inherit nothing.”

  Kate whimpered as Hugh drove into her again and again, his desire fueled by anger.

  “I’ll ride you as often as I want when I’m at home, and if you ever try to deny me again, you’ll suffer a lot worse than a slap. Is that clear?” he demanded when he finally finished and rolled off her.

  “Yes,” Kate whispered.

  “I can’t hear you.”

  “Yes,” she said louder.

  “Yes, what?” Hugh taunted her.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “That’s better. Now get out of my sight.”

  Kate grabbed her clothes and ran from the room, tears streaming down her face. Hugh had never shown such cruelty toward her before, not even when he’d been disappointed or upset. His eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened in anger when she displeased him, but he’d always kept a rein on his feelings and managed to maintain a veneer of civility. The weeks away had done something to him. Kate wasn’t sure if it was the frustration of the siege or the news of her father’s marriage and new child, but Hugh was smoldering with resentment, and she was the easiest target for his fury.

  She stepped into the still-dark Lady Chamber and pulled on her gown with shaking hands. It took her several minutes to do up the laces of the bodice since she couldn’t seem to coordinate her movements, and her legs were wobbly. Her hair tumbled down her back, making it more difficult to tie the bows. Once the garment was finally fastened, Kate sat down heavily on the settle, still shaken, and squeezed her legs in an effort to stem the pain. Her womb throbbed from Hugh’s onslaught and she thought she might be bleeding. She considered going into the kitchen get some water to wash, but Joan would already be up, stoking up the fire in the great hearth and putting on broth to warm for their breakfast.

  Thinking of her father, Kate wished she could have a cup of mead to numb the pain in her heart. He hadn’t replied to any of her letters, not even the one she’d written after her mother died. Gerard Dancy had cut her out of his heart, and now he’d cut her out of his family. His newborn son stood to inherit everything and Kate was dispossessed. Hugh wouldn’t see another pfennig of Lord Dancy’s great wealth unless her baby brother didn’t survive, which was something she could never wish for, not even to avoid Hugh’s wrath. Her father was forty-four. He could still have several children—siblings Kate would never meet. She longed to visit the Grange and meet her stepmother and hold her baby brother, but that was not to be. Ever. She was completely and utterly dependent on her husband, who at this moment loathed her and blamed her for his disappointed hopes.

  Kate shivered. Her feet were numb and her arms broke out in gooseflesh. The keep was as cold as a tomb. It was cold even on the warmest days of summer, but in the beginning of January, when the wind howled outside and snow drifts came to the knee, it was practically uninhabitable. . She abandoned the Lady Chamber and walked down the corridor toward the chapel. It was no warmer there, but it was a place where she felt secure and more at peace. She was a few feet from the door when Guy’s face loomed out of the dark, the whites of his eyes illuminated by the tiny flame from his candle.

  “Kate, are you all right? I thought I heard you crying.” Guy held the candle up to Kate’s face. His hand went to her cheek, gently touching the reddened spot Hugh had slapped. “Why did he hit you?” he asked softly.

  “It was my fault,” Kate replied. “It’s nothing. Go back to bed, Guy.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Guy said as he disappeared down the corridor.

  She pushed open the door and stepped into the dark chapel, but didn’t kneel on a prie-dieu. Instead, she wrapped her arms about her and stood still, listening to the moaning of the wind outside.

  Guy slipped into the chape
l a few moments later. He wrapped a fur from his bed around Kate’s shoulders and touched the flame of his candle to the tall candles beside the altar. Then, he turned to study Kate’s face as she huddled into the warmth of the fur.

  “Why did he hit you?” he asked again.

  “I tried to deny him,” she confessed.

  “I see.” Guy looked murderous.

  “It was my fault, Guy. Please, let it be,” Kate pleaded, suddenly terrified that he would confront Hugh. His interference, although no doubt well meant, would only make things worse for her.

  Guy gently brushed a stray curl from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I never see you with your hair down,” he said. “I’ve forgotten how glorious it is. You are glorious,” he whispered.

  “Guy, don’t,” Kate said, but her treacherous body leaned toward him, seeking his touch.

  Guy caressed her cheek and then his lips found hers, brushing them very lightly before he drew back, his eyes still blazing. “I could kill him for hurting you. He had no right.”

  “He had every right. He’s my husband and he can do what he wants. You know that. Besides, he’s angry,” Kate explained unnecessarily.

  “I know. He had great financial expectations from this marriage, but it isn’t your fault things didn’t work out as he’d hoped.”

  “No, it isn’t, but Hugh can hardly slap my father, or Warwick,” Kate replied with a wry smile. “I’m the only one he can take his anger out on.”

  “That doesn’t make it right,” Guy protested stubbornly.

  “Few things in this world are right, Guy, especially for those who depend on others for their livelihood.”

  He nodded. “Hugh wishes me to marry.”

  “It’s only right that you should,” Kate said, but her heart contracted at the thought.

  “I don’t want to. I could never fully give myself to a wife when my heart longs for you.”

  “Don’t say such things. I belong to Hugh. I’m his in the eyes of God and man, and I will remain his until one of us is in our grave. I will not betray him, Guy.”

  “I’d never ask you to,” Guy replied. “But perhaps it’s time for me to seek my fortune elsewhere.”

  “Oh, Guy.” Kate reached out and cupped his cheek. The thought of life without Guy was unbearable, but he was right. If they remained in the same place long enough, denying their feelings for each other would become harder and harder, and eventually, Hugh would see the truth and punish them both.

  “I’ll ask my lord Stanwyck to release me from my obligations for a year or two. He’s a good man; he’ll understand.”

  Kate nodded. “God bless you, Guy de Rosel.” How I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, she added silently.

  Guy kissed her hand and left the chapel, his footsteps unnaturally loud in the quiet of the passage

  Chapter 41

  Kate spent the rest of the day trying to avoid Hugh. She simply couldn’t bear to look at him after what had happened that morning without her feelings showing plainly on her face. The acute hurt would eventually become a dull ache, this episode becoming just another entry in her list of painful experiences. Hugh’s name would be right beneath that of her father. They were two men who should have protected her, but instead they coddled their pride, and used their manhood to dominate the weak.

  Kate sighed and retreated to the Lady Chamber. Hugh rarely came in there, preferring to spend his day in more active pursuits.

  “It was wonderful last night, wasn’t it?” Eleanor asked. She was standing by the window, watching Adam build a snow maiden with Jed’s help. The boys’ laughter drifted from below, making Kate feel even more isolated in her misery.

  “Yes, it was,” she replied as she sat down and rummaged in her work basket for the next garment to be mended. It seemed that for every item she worked on, another two showed up the next day.

  “You know what I liked best?” Eleanor asked, her tone dreamy. “The minstrels. Oh, I do enjoy the music. Will used to play the lute when we were first married. He used to write songs dedicated to my beauty,” she added with a wistful sigh. “And he hired minstrels to play for us once a year at the New Year. The earl always invited everyone for a Christmas celebration, but Will liked to have a celebration of our own. Those moments are the ones I miss the most. They were so pure and joyous.”

  “My father used to bring in minstrels as well,” Kate replied, thankful to talk of something neutral. “My mother loved to hear them play, and she allowed all the servants to take part in the celebration. She said that everyone was entitled to enjoy the beauty of the music.”

  “Sounds like she was a gracious lady. I don’t even remember my mother. She died when I was a child.” Eleanor tore her gaze away from the window and took her seat by the hearth, rubbing her arms to warm herself. “I hope Adam doesn’t catch a chill out there. Hugh says I should stop coddling him, but I worry so.”

  “The cold won’t hurt him, Eleanor. It’ll only make him stronger. Hugh and Guy just spent a month living outside and they’re no worse for it.”

  “Except maybe in temper,” Eleanor replied, smiling. “Hugh was a right old bear until he bathed and had a proper meal.”

  “Yes, that he was,” Kate agreed.

  Eleanor was just about to say something when Joan appeared at the door, her round face creased with worry and her hands clasped nervously in front of her bosom.

  “What is it, Nurse?” Eleanor asked. “Is something amiss?”

  “Yes, me lady. It’s Aileen. She’s gone missing.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

  “Perhaps she’s still abed,” Eleanor suggested.

  Joan shook her head. “No, I checked. Jed said she still hadn’t come to bed by the time he fell asleep last night, and her bed hasn’t been slept in since.”

  “Was she upset about something?” Kate asked. This wasn’t like Aileen. She returned to her quarters as soon as Joan dismissed her for the day, eager for rest and time to herself.

  “She’s been acting a bit odd these past few weeks, but that’s nothing unusual for Aileen. She’s such a moody thing; one minute she’s smiling to herself like she’s got a precious secret, and the next she’s down in the mouth, sulking in the corner. She did seem quieter than normal yesterday. I thought she was just tired from lugging all that water and doing the extra laundry.”

  “Have you told Hugh Aileen is missing?” Kate asked.

  Joan shook her head. “I had no wish to get the girl in trouble, but now I’m worried. I’ve looked for her everywhere.”

  “We’d best tell Hugh and Guy,” Eleanor said, rising from her seat. “They’ll know what to do.”

  Hugh staggered down the stairs, looking the worse for wear after last night’s festivities, but he instantly took charge, too petty to allow Guy to take the lead.

  “Joan, search the storerooms thoroughly. Maybe Aileen’s hiding down there for whatever reason. Kate and Eleanor, check every room in the castle. I’ll have Alf and Walter search all the outbuildings. Guy, go up on the roof. If she left the castle and is still within sighting distance, you’ll see her. Maybe she got hurt and couldn’t make it back.”

  “Aileen never leaves the castle on her own,” Joan protested.

  “There’s always a first time,” Hugh snapped. “I’ll go speak to Jed. Maybe he can shed some light.”

  “I’ve spoken to him already. Don’t frighten him, Hugh. He’s just a boy,” Joan warned. “I don’t want him thinking something’s befallen his sister without any actual evidence to the fact.”

  Hugh glared at Joan. “Why would I frighten him? I just want to speak to him. Get on with it, old woman, and stop wasting time.”

  Joan bristled at Hugh’s tone, but turned around and went on her way, heading down to the ground floor and the storerooms.

  Eleanor turned to Kate. “I’ll check the rooms on this floor.”

  “All right. I’ll search all the bedchamb
ers.” Kate walked up the narrow spiral staircase, followed by Guy, who was heading to the roof. “Do you think she’s all right?”

  Guy shrugged. “I can’t see why she wouldn’t be. That girl is like a frightened rabbit. The furthest she ever goes is to church, and only when accompanied by Joan and Jed. I think we’ll find her sleeping somewhere,” he added with a smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”

  “Of course we will,” Kate replied. “I just can’t imagine where she might have got to.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough.”

  Kate left Guy at the landing and turned toward Marie de Rosel’s bedchamber. She couldn’t imagine that Aileen would go in there, but she had to check.

  Chapter 42

  Guy jogged up the steps to the low doorway leading to the roof. In the past, the roof had served not only as an observation tower where sentries could look out for approaching enemy, but also as a vantage point for the archers. Thankfully, Castle de Rosel hadn’t been under attack in several decades, and no one went to the roof unless they wanted to enjoy the glorious vista that spread as far as the eye could see. Will, Hugh, and Guy used to climb up there when they were boys, pretending to loose arrows in defense of their home. Guy liked to look at the distant hills and the sparkling ribbon that was the River Tweed. It was deep and wide, a watery highway for fishermen and soldiers alike, when the situation called for it.

  Guy had stopped looking at the river after Margaret’s death. To him, the river was no longer beautiful. It was a painful reminder of his negligence, and a harbinger of death. Margaret had been gone for nearly twenty years, but Guy could still see her sweet face, and her wide, cornflower blue eyes that had gazed upon him with such trust. He’d been her favorite brother, the one she trusted most, and he’d let her down, distracted by the sight of a group of knights, in full armor, heading to some battle somewhere along the Scottish border. They had been magnificent, tall and proud, their armor shining in the sunlight as their powerful horses carried them effortlessly to war. Their squires had trotted behind them, their breasts swelled with importance as they followed their masters. Guy had stared after them open-mouthed, desperate to grow up faster so he could enter into the service of the Earl of Stanwyck and take his rightful place among the military elite of Britain. And now he was a knight, just as he’d dreamed he would be, but it brought him no joy, only shame because he was no longer a boy of eight and now he understood that his only purpose in life was to kill.