While the girls smiled and greeted her warmly, Katherine was cold and remote. She gave no greeting. She barely faced Rebeka.
As Rebeka sipped her tea, she assessed Katherine. She was a good-looking woman. Rebeka estimated her to be about her age, mid-to late-thirties, a bit shorter than herself and a lean straight figure with limited curves. She had blond curly hair, and while separately the features on her face were pleasant enough, her set expression gave the appearance of a dour personality. She wore the dress of the day in rich fabrics accessorized with a chatelaine, “the keys to the castle.” Formal and rigid, yes, that was the impression she gave. No one would dare call her Kate.
“Where was I?” Doward went on. “Yes, I was in Easton, having the wagon wheel fixed. The villagers were all talking about the…”
Rebeka looked around the hall. The tapestries and the sideboard are the same. This was the same hall she saw two days ago. “Lady Rebeka, where are you from?” Katherine’s question brought her back into the moment.
Inwardly annoyed, she gave Katherine her full attention. Katherine demanded an answer. This attitude must run in the family. Lady Katherine was very well suited for Lord Arik. The thought irritated her.
She returned Katherine’s glare with a smile. “Please, Rebeka will do. I’m from London.”
Arik repeated what Doward had told him on the trail. “She’s a scribe, here to use our library.”
“A scribe, a woman scribe, how absurd, besides why would she be coming here? What information?” She was indignant and looked to Arik for an answer.
Arik raised one eyebrow and gave her a cold stare.
Katherine looked surprised.
Rebeka started to answer but Arik stepped in. “She is here at my bidding. I petitioned Jamie and he sent her.”
Rebeka didn’t feel any compunction to correct him. A glance at Doward and she guessed he felt the same.
“Rebeka,” said Aubrey, as the meal drew to a close. “Would you like me to acquaint you with the Manor?”
“Aubrey,” Katherine barked at the child. “You have things to do. Besides, all she needs are directions to the library across the hall.”
Face fallen and shoulders slumped, Aubrey looked at the empty plate in front of her.
“Aubrey, that’s a good idea,” said Arik, finishing his ale. “Katherine, she can do her chores later. Go ahead, princess, acquaint our guest with her new surroundings.”
Arik started to get up from the table. Rebeka briefly touched his arm to stop him. “Arik, I have several things to discuss with you including the ambush on the trail.” Arik and Katherine both looked surprised.
“Not now.” Arik was emphatic, throwing his napkin on the table. Again he got ready to rise.
His response startled Rebeka. “Lord Arik.” He turned toward her. “In order to carry on my research, I need some additional information. I suppose we can talk about the ambush some other time,” she said sweetly, giving him her most devastating stare.
“Before you came down to the hall, I had the books gathered. They’re on the desk. Draft a list of any others you may need and I will make certain they’re available to you,” he said matter-of-factly. He started for the door.
“Thank you, how considerate of you.”
Katherine gave Rebeka one final glare as she got up to leave the table. “Aubrey, make certain you don’t take all day.” She turned on her heel, heading for the kitchen, calling to Jeannie.
“Jeannie, call the cook and downstairs maid. I want to speak to them about this awful meal and ill-kept room.”
Doward, Logan and Skylar made their excuses and left the hall.
Aubrey started the tour in the entranceway and proceeded on to the rest of the house. They entered the Grand Gallery and Aubrey stopped in front of a picture of a beautiful lady dressed for court. She looked at it with deep sad eyes.
George had stopped in front of this picture too, Rebeka remembered, racking her brain. What had he said her name was? And was this the connection? She looked behind her and was disappointed Arik’s picture was not there.
Rebeka returned her attention to Aubrey. “Who is this?”
“This is my mother, Lady Leticia. I miss her, but when I come here, I feel I am near her. See how she smiles at me?”
“Yes. She is very beautiful and has a beautiful smile, like yours.” Rebeka gently squeezed Aubrey’s hand, trying to ease her distress. So she is not his wife, but his sister.
“Come see my picture. It isn’t completed yet but it will be soon.” Aubrey’s smile brightened.
In the corner of the gallery, where the light was very good, there was an easel draped with cloth. Aubrey uncovered it to show a large picture of Arik, Logan, Skylar and herself.
“It’s a wonderful picture of the four of you. It will be even more wonderful when it’s finished.” The artist captured not only a good physical likeness of the family but also a sense of animation.
“Come, Rebeka, we’ll go to Mother’s garden.” Aubrey face lit up and she eagerly led the way downstairs and along the hall.
Rebeka paused as they passed a young girl polishing the furniture. Déjà vu. The fragrance of the lavender and oil on the newly polished furniture was the same as the last time she had seen it, in her own time. She half expected Charles to be standing next to her. Aubrey pulled her toward the estate room doorway. Rebeka closed her eyes. Maybe when she opened them she would see George and everything would be back to normal.
“Hello, Uncle Arik.”
Rebeka opened her eyes, startled to see Arik sitting behind the desk. Thrown off balance for the moment, she grabbed the door.
Arik saw her surprise. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, just startled.” She tried to regain her composure.
“Who were you expecting to see?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t trust herself to answer.
He turned to Aubrey. “Ah, princess, how is the tour? Where’re you off to?”
There was softness in his eyes. It surprised Rebeka.
“I’m taking Rebeka to see the garden.”
“Don’t be long, Aubrey. The woman has work to do.” As he looked at Rebeka, the softness faded.
“We won’t be long.” Aubrey was already leading Rebeka out of the terrace door and down the marble steps, along the footpath edged with herbs toward the garden. The remnants of wild herbs grew haphazardly with some areas almost bare and others running wild. She could just make out the slight sweetness and spicy aroma of marjoram, the clean freshness of mint and the savory, citric fragrance of thyme. Rebeka looked around. It was unkempt, sorrowful somehow.
“Nothing grows here anymore, not since Mother died. It’s the only place where I can talk to her.” Aubrey’s voice was almost inaudible. She looked up at Rebeka, her eyes on the verge of tears.
Rebeka knew the hurt and devastation of losing a parent. For her, remembering happened at odd moments, around a campfire, in the grocery store, at graduation, when she was awarded her Ph.D. The ache never went away. Rebeka needed to distract Aubrey, get her away from the garden. “I think the only place left for us to see is the library. Will you show me the way?”
Aubrey looked at Rebeka and nodded. She took Rebeka’s hand and they walked along the terrace to the library. They opened the doors just as Jeannie entered from the hallway with tea and scones.
“Ah, there you are, Aubrey. You had better go on and do your chores before Lady Katherine gets vexed. You know how she can get.”
“But I haven’t shown Rebeka the tower or the dungeon.”
“Another day perhaps, now go.” Jeannie gave Aubrey a scone.
“All right, I’ll go.” She turned to Rebeka. “I’ll take you to see more tomorrow.” Aubrey took a bite of the cake.
“Thank you, Aubrey. It was a wonderful tour.” Aubrey left, grabbing a second scone from the dish and flashing Jeannie and Rebeka a smile before she dashed away.
“You’re very good with her,” said Rebeka.
“She gave me a wonderful tour. There’s intelligence behind those eyes. My father would call her an old soul. I enjoyed her company.”
“Your father would be correct. Now, it seems we all have to get to our chores, you too, m’lady. If you need me call out. I’ll not be far away.”
Alone in the library, Rebeka made a cursory inventory of the books piled on the table. As far as she could tell, they were all almanacs and books on plants. She looked for something else, anything to give her some hint. She stretched and flexed her fingers like a musician getting ready to play an instrument. It must be close, hiding in the open. All she needed to do was recognize it.
Chapter Ten
“Marcus, I’ll meet you on the practice field.” Arik ran up the steps to the terrace. His hand on the estate room door, he hesitated, glancing at the nearby library. His face morphed into a scowl. How much longer would the woman avoid him? He stepped to the library and burst in through the door. Sheets of foolscap fluttered to the floor in disarray. He stood in the entrance, in full scowl, primed for battle, and scanned the room.
Surprised to find the room empty, he took advantage of her absence and peered at the books and papers scattered on the large table and stacked on the floor. Odd notes in her elegant yet strong precise hand were in a neat pile on the table. He glanced at the materials, seeing the almanacs and tomes he left for her as well as…the Manor floor plans. Why was she reading those? What was she searching for? A weakness?
As he picked up the drawing, he caught a glimpse of worn brown leather. His blood turned cold, the muscles on his face tightened and his mouth went dry. The document in his hand dropped back onto the table forgotten. What did she want with the family history? The leather bound book lay open, the ancient runes clearly visible. Jamie sent her. What does he want? What is he up to?
He had no more time to think. The muffled sounds of someone approaching from the hallway reached his ears, and the scent of lavender and rose announced her arrival. He didn’t want her to know she’d been found out. He slipped the book in his shirt and left the way he entered.
“Rebeka, how goes it?” Doward approached her as she opened the door and followed her into the room. “Jeannie tells me you’ve been in the library for a fortnight, leaving only to eat and sleep.”
“Yes, reading, but I haven’t found anything. I’ve only been successful in avoiding Katherine and Arik.”
He picked up a book from the table. “Ruralia commoda.” Rebeka watched as curiosity filled his eyes. He turned to her, his head tilted and brows wrinkled.
“That book is a classic. Well it will be a classic, an authority on agriculture, husbandry and horticulture for the next five hundred years. Somebody studied the first chapter very thoroughly.”
“The first chapter?”
“Yes. The first chapter discusses the best location and arrangement for a manor. I found the plans tucked into the book. Using the drawings, I was searching for geological elements, like an underground stream to explain what was happening to the land but I didn’t find any.”
Doward moved closer, casually peeking over her shoulder. “You won’t be able to avoid them for much longer.” He didn’t give her time to react but moved on to the next subject. “There may be information in the estate books. The family has been on this land for many generations.”
She ignored his mention of Katherine and Arik. “I haven’t found any estate books.”
She looked for the brown leather book. She could have sworn it was on the table. I don’t remember putting any back in the bookcase. No matter, she had copied the relevant pages. She gathered up some papers and stacked them on top of her notes, appearing to straighten out the jumble on the table. She didn’t want him to know she searched the family history. What would she tell him? How would she explain her sudden interest in the family history? She’d look for the book later.
“You plan to read the estate books?”
“Yes, I thought perhaps something similar happened to the land in the past. Someone may have noted an oddity. It’s simply a guess.” She surveyed the books and papers on the table, irritated she had no blessed idea where to turn. “Actually, I don’t know what I’m looking for.” Her anger piqued, she tossed the papers she was holding on the table and slouched in her chair. “There’s no clue about time travel and nothing out of the ordinary about the land or weather. This is getting me nowhere.”
“The way the land is dying and not recovering would surely be documented in books by people in future generations. In your studies have you found any such mention?”
She sat up straight and stared at him. “No.” Her voice was barely a whisper. Deep in thought, she stared unseeing at the table while her mind raced. She concentrated on recalling the history of the area she read on her flight to England. Her hand stroked the nearest book while she puzzled things out. She picked up her head, surprise written all over her face. “This is a very prosperous area, even Oak Meadow.”
Doward softly patted her hand. “Ah, a good sign. That means we find the remedy before it’s too late.” He paused for a moment.
He stared past her into the cold hearth, a distant look in his eyes. “Maybe there’s magic at the root of this.” He swept his hand over the stacks of books. “We’ll not find magic in any of these books.” He returned his attention to her.
“Doward.” She couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Surely you know magic isn’t real. It’s nothing but illusion. The magician distracts you. He has you concentrate on one hand while he does something with the other. Common sense should tell you it’s only a game.”
“Before you take offense, you may want to reconsider.” He looked at her like a teacher would an unenlightened child. “What does your common sense tell you about your traveling through time? Was that an illusion?”
She thought about his words. “You’re saying I should suspend my disbelief.”
“I’m saying I don’t think your answers will be so easily found in these books. You need to see the problem a different way or else you’ll keep coming to the same conclusion.” He sat down next to her.
“So I’m lost before I even begin.” She put her elbows on the table and rested her forehead in her hands.
“Rebeka, I don’t think you’re here by accident. I think you’re here for a purpose, to use your knowledge and stop what’s happening. Once you complete your quest you’ll be able to go back.”
Her mind rebelled. It’s not logical! She stopped the thought from taking hold. Doward was right. Logic had no place here. If it did, she would be fighting with George Hughes over Helen’s scones.
A burst of understanding jolted her and excitement ran up her spine. “Estate books and journals. George Hughes was having them delivered.” She looked at Doward. “Secrets. He said the books were filled with secrets.” Her voice was a whisper. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.
“What’s filled with secrets?” Doward stood and bent over her, his face inches from hers. “What secrets?”
She put her hand up, stalling him while she thought. He said they were three to four hundred years old. The year would be somewhere around 1500 to 1600. The timing’s right. I’ve read the estate books and found nothing but I haven’t seen any journals. Where would someone keep a personal journal? She scanned the room and began to section it off in her mind. I’ll search every piece of paper if I have to.
“These books can’t help.” He looked startled by her outburst and quickly stepped back. “Journals with personal thoughts and observations are what we need.”
Doward nodded his agreement and gently placed his hand on hers. “You can use these books to confirm what you discover once you know what information you seek.”
“Villagers don’t keep journals but someone did. Who? I thought I saw some personal papers on one of the shelves.” She turned and looked high on the wall, trying to
remember where she saw the papers.
“It’s a good place to start.” Doward straightened up. He started for the door but stopped and turned, his hand stroking his chin. “The villagers may not write in a journal but they too exchange thoughts on events—only in a very different way.”
“Oral history!” A new avenue of exploration opened for her. “Of course, you take the stories from village to village.”
He smiled at her.
“Let me start with you.” She knew she was on the right track. The thought of documenting historical information firsthand was an opportunity she couldn’t let slip by.
Rebeka spent the next several hours listening to Doward tell her what he knew about the land and documented everything he said.
“Rebeka, are you hungry?” Aubrey rapped on the door and poked her head in.
“I certainly am,” said Doward. “Come, Rebeka, we could use some sustenance. Besides, my throat is parched. I need some ale. Telling stories makes me thirsty.”
“You go on without me. I want to finish this while it’s still fresh in my mind.”
“As you wish.” Doward turned to Aubrey. “Did I ever tell you about the time I met the giant?” Doward put his arm around the girl and left for the Great Hall.
Rebeka shook her head. He mesmerized the child like a pied piper. She edited her notes and quickly lost track of time.
“M’lady, I’ve brought you something to eat.”
“Thank you, Jeannie,” she said, her head buried in the papers. “I’ll come in a minute.”
“Everyone’s finished and gone on their way. You’ve missed the meal, again. I’m here to see about the stitches.”
Rebeka raised her head, giving Jeannie only part of her attention, and smiled. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.”
Jeannie stood over her, stared and waited.
Knight of Runes Page 10