by Jody Hedlund
Grandmother sat by the hearth in her plush chair and didn’t bother to look up from her embroidery. “Stop being so dramatic. You know as well as I do that you would not have come here if I had told you I wanted you to meet Sir Bennet.”
I paused and fisted my hands on my hips. “So you deceived me by claiming we were coming to look at the art?”
“And you have looked at the art.”
I threw up my arms in frustration and then glanced around the room for anything else that needed to go into the trunk. “You could have told me that you wanted me to consider Sir Bennet as a match.”
“And have you immediately leave and return home?”
“So instead you let me humiliate myself? You thought to sell me off to the first bidder because no one else would ever want me?”
The pain that laced each word must have penetrated past Grandmother’s thick skin, for she finally set aside her embroidery and looked at me with her keen but watery eyes. “I had heard remarkable things about Sir Bennet and once met him briefly. He is renowned for his bravery and skills and chivalry. He is one of three knights trained by the Duke of Rivenshire. Everyone had only the highest praise for him. So when I learned his family had accumulated debt and was searching for a suitable but advantageous match, I decided it would not hurt to visit.”
“So that he could marry me for my money.”
“I had hoped that once the two of you had the chance to get to know each other, you would develop some affection.”
I couldn’t deny that I’d fallen for Sir Bennet over the past few days. I supposed that’s why his deception hurt so much. “He could charm the warts off a toad if he worked hard enough. At the very least, he’s charmed this toad.”
“You are not a toad,” Grandmother rebuked.
But neither was I anything like Lady Elaine. With her flawless beauty, she was exactly the kind of woman Sir Bennet would appreciate. I’d noticed on more than one occasion the way he admired her, as if she were an exquisite piece of artwork. He’d never looked at me that way. How could he?
I turned and strode to Stephan’s silver cage, which sat on a lone pedestal table underneath one of the windows. The little songbird was perched on his swing, preening his feathers. I stuck my finger through the bars, and he flittered over to land on my glove. I stuck my other hand through and gently stroked the bird, earning a happy twitter.
“I’m not foolish enough to think that I shall marry for love,” I finally spoke. “But I cannot tolerate deception.” Even as the word left my mouth, a niggling guilt reminded me that I hadn’t been completely honest with Bennet either. The glove that hugged my skin tightly all the way up to my elbow was proof of that. If he knew how flawed I really was, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me regardless of his need for my money.
I could hear Grandmother’s chair scrape on the floor as she rose. “You are being entirely too hard on Sir Bennet. He assumed you were here to meet him as a potential spouse. He was only doing his best to get to know you and to make the situation work.”
“Yes, he certainly was doing his best,” I said dryly as I thought of his kiss.
“I am not easily impressed,” Grandmother continued. “But that young man has impressed me. In spite of the circumstances, he has made every effort to win your affection and make the most of the situation that has been handed to him.”
“So in other words, he’d much rather marry a beautiful woman that he loves. But he’s sacrificing his desires and marrying a woman like me instead so that he can do the noble thing and help his family pay their debts?”
“He will learn to love you,” Grandmother said. “Give it time.”
Although she’d meant her words to comfort me, they hurt nonetheless. I didn’t want to marry a man who had to learn to love me, to work at it, to conjure up those feelings. I wanted a man who could appreciate me for who I was, who could love me regardless of all my faults and foibles, including my skin blemish. The truth was, deep down I hadn’t ever believed any man could love me. After all, if my father couldn’t, who else would?
I’d been foolish to allow myself to hope that Bennet might be different.
“I’m sorry, my lady.” I placed Stephan back on his swing and turned to face Grandmother. “I can’t give it more time. I want to leave today. Now.”
She studied me critically, the wrinkles around her mouth pinching. There was a knowing glimmer in her eyes that made me wonder what else she wasn’t telling me or what other plan she was concocting.
“Very well,” Grandmother said as she walked to the door. “If you insist, then we shall leave. But not before you have the chance to rest.”
“I shall sleep in the carriage on the way home.”
“I want you to rest this morning first. Then we shall talk after that.” She stepped through the door and clicked it shut behind her, leaving me no choice but to obey.
I awoke with a start, sensing more than knowing that hours had passed as I slept. The long shadows in my chamber attested as well to the passage of time. I scrambled out of bed and called to my maid for assistance in dressing. All the while I prayed we would still have enough daylight to begin our journey. However, I had a distinct feeling that Grandmother had let me oversleep on purpose so we could delay our departure for one more day.
Did she think that another night would make a difference, that I would fall in love with Bennet or that he would fall in love with me? Whether she was delaying on purpose or not, I had no intention of spending any more time with the handsome knight. As far as I was concerned, he could have Lady Elaine, since she was clearly much more besotted with him than I was.
Once Lillian had finished assembling my hair into the simple plait I normally wore, I tossed my cloak over my shoulders. “Would you tell Grandmother I’m ready to depart?”
Lillian paused, comb in hand. “Her ladyship wanted me to inform you that she’s taken a chill and won’t be able to depart today after all.”
“Taken a chill? Won’t be able to depart?” I laughed. I had to give Grandmother credit—first for letting me oversleep and second for pretending to be ill. At least she was persistent. Either she really liked Sir Bennet and wanted this match to work, or she thought this was my best chance at marriage and didn’t want to let it slip by. Whatever the case, I couldn’t remain irritated at her for being less than honest with me about the entire trip. If she wanted me here this badly, then I had to humor her, at least for the time being.
“Take me to her chamber, Lillian.” I tossed aside my cloak. “If she’s ill, then surely I need to attend to her.”
“Oh, no, my lady,” Lillian said, hurrying ahead of me. “She said she’d be fine, that she’d much rather you go to dinner with the others.”
I chuckled again and shook my head at Grandmother’s conniving. “I couldn’t possibly enjoy myself knowing that she’s ill.”
“That’s what she thought you’d say,” Lillian replied as we stepped into the dark hallway, which was lit by strategically placed wall sconces. “But she wanted me to assure you that she is being well taken care of.”
Lillian started down the hallway toward the tower and spiraling steps that would take me below to the great hall and Bennet. But as persistent as Grandmother was, I could be even more so. Instead of following Lillian, I headed down the hallway in the opposite direction to Grandmother’s chambers.
“My lady,” Lillian called, her footsteps echoing as she rushed to catch up with me. But my legs were long, and I reached Grandmother’s door and was inside the room before anyone could stop me. As I barged in, I stopped short at the sight of Grandmother in her bed, the coverlet pulled high and her eyes closed.
Her lady’s maid sat in a chair by her side. At the sight of me, she pressed a finger against her lips, cautioning me to be quiet. I tiptoed the rest of the way into the room and over to the bed. “Is she asleep?” I whispered, peering at Grandmother’s pale face. Against the pillow, her skin was ashen, her veins like swollen blue rivers.
>
“Is she all right?” I asked, a sudden burst of worry replacing my mirth. Maybe Grandmother wasn’t pretending after all. Maybe she truly was sick.
Again the maid pressed her finger against her lips and frowned.
“Should we send for the physician?” I asked, ignoring the maid and dragging another chair to the bedstead. “We should also send for the priest to offer prayers for her soul.” And perhaps mine as well. After all, even though I’d accused Bennet of deception, I wasn’t entirely innocent of the same.
“She needs rest,” the maid said tersely. “Uninterrupted rest.”
I sat down and eyed my grandmother with a mingling of worry and suspicion. Even if her illness was only a ruse, two could play the game. If I called the physician and Grandmother was ill, then I’d have brought her much-needed assistance. But if she wasn’t, then I’d force her to admit to her charade.
Grandmother’s eyes opened and took a moment to focus on my face. “I told you to go to dinner,” she croaked, certainly sounding sick.
“I refuse to leave you alone.” I placed my hand over hers.
Grandmother sighed and closed her eyes, weariness seeming to add more lines to her face. “I am not alone, Sabine. My faithful maidservant is here with me.” She gave a cough that seemed to be real, but I couldn’t be sure.
“I shall send for the physician.”
Grandmother shook her head. “No. I don’t wish to disturb the family tonight.” She coughed again, and this time her maid gave her a sip of something steaming and spicy from a mug on the bedside table.
Against Grandmother’s protests, I settled in to wait by her side. Sir Bennet sent several messages, which I didn’t bother to read, and he also sent servants bearing tidings, whom I didn’t receive. If he thought to placate me, I wasn’t interested in the least.
The hours slowly ticked by until at last boredom and hunger pushed me to my feet. Grandmother seemed to be resting peacefully. Although her breath rattled and she still coughed from time to time, she didn’t seem to be suffering.
“I’m going to the kitchen to see if I can find cheese and bread,” I whispered to the maidservant, who still sat in her place of vigilance next to Grandmother. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Perhaps on the way back I’d stop by Bennet’s library and get a new book to read, I told myself as I wound through the dark halls and stairways, holding my oil lamp as a guide. The keep was silent, and my footsteps echoed too loudly.
I made my way into the kitchen, placed my lamp on the worktable, and began to rummage through a sideboard. I dug through several cabinets and crates to no avail. As I arose from the drawers beneath a worktable, I drew back with a start and released a yelp at the sight of Sir Bennet leaning against the doorframe, holding a dim lantern. One brow was quirked as though he’d been watching me and trying to figure out what I was doing.
“May I assist you, my lady?” His voice held a note of humor.
Bennet was behaving as if nothing had changed between us, and for the sake of civility and growing hunger, I decided to do likewise. “It appears that every last morsel of food in this keep has been consumed, and that we’re on the brink of starvation. I’ve had to give up on my quest for melted cheese on bread and will settle for just about anything at this point, including scraping crumbs from the floor.”
“Melted cheese on bread?” Both brows rose now.
“Haven’t you ever had such a delicacy?” I resumed my search, this time pulling lids off pots and peering inside.
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Then you don’t know what you’re missing.”
“And perhaps it’s best if it remains that way,” he replied wryly.
“How utterly unadventurous of you, sir. And here I thought you were the daring kind of man who embraced excitement.”
“Since when has eating melted cheese on bread become exciting?”
“Why, sir,” I said in mock horror. “It’s my greatest thrill.”
He chuckled, his grin lighting his face and bringing out his striking features, reminding me of how appealing he was in just about every way.
The lid slipped from my fingers with a clatter, and I glanced to the door beyond him, hoping I hadn’t alerted any guards or awoken the cook. I didn’t want to be forced from the kitchen before I’d found something to sate my appetite.
“Before you get caught,” he said, pushing away from the doorframe, “and locked in the dungeon for trespassing on Cook’s sacred territory, might I direct your attention to the pantry?” He crossed the room to a hallway that led to the back door of the keep. On one side of the hall sat a narrow door. Bennet didn’t hesitate to open it, as if he made a common practice of visiting there himself. Following behind him, I raised my lantern and let the beams illuminate the room. It was lined with shelves that contained grain sacks, woven baskets, clay pots, and wooden barrels.
“Ah, heaven,” I declared, making my way down a short flight of stairs to the dirt floor. Bunches of dried herbs hung from the ceiling and brushed against my head. The waft of rosemary, thyme, and dill tickled my nose. For a minute, I wandered about peeking into baskets and opening the lids on clay pots.
Bennet ambled over to a side table, where there lay several lumps wrapped in linen. He tugged off one of the coverings to reveal a block of cheese. Next he opened the lid of a wooden box that also sat on the table and lifted out a loaf of brown bread. Finally, he produced a small crock of butter.
“You’ve done it!” I crossed to his side and bent to draw in a deep breath of the yeasty bread. “You’ve rescued me from certain death.”
“I’m relieved to know I won’t be the cause of your demise.” He procured a knife dangling from a rack on the wall.
I shifted my nose to the cheese and dragged in the pungent tang of the creamy wedge.
“Would you like to do the honor?” He held the knife to me, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Of course,” I said, taking the knife and sinking it into the bread. “Watch and learn from the expert.”
For several minutes, we bantered as I sliced the bread. His teasing grew especially merciless when I began the buttering, with comments like, “Would you like a little bread to go with your butter?” and “The cheese is drowning.” I loved every second. In fact, I loved it much more than I knew I should.
After warming the bread and cheese over the heat of the lamp, he lifted his dripping piece and took a large bite. I watched him expectantly. He chewed for a long moment before swallowing. Without a word, he took another bite.
“Does the fact that you’re continuing to eat mean that you like it?”
He cocked his head and chewed slower. “I’m still trying to decide.”
As he took a third bite, I smiled. “Admit it. You’ve never tasted anything quite so delicious.”
“Very well. I admit. It’s not as horrible as I’d anticipated.”
“Not as horrible?” I laughed and pushed him in the arm. “Thank you for the high words of praise. I shall now be able to sleep in peace.”
He nudged his arm against mine. I bumped him back and took a bite of my own bread, trying to hide my contented smile. For a few seconds, we leaned against the table side by side and munched in silence, the flicker of our lamps casting a cozy glow over the crowded room.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you, Sabine.” His soft statement seemed to come out of nowhere and made the bread stick in my throat.
He shifted so that he was facing me. “I’ve been in agony all day knowing that I hurt you.”
I tried to swallow the lump to respond, but it wouldn’t move.
“I didn’t mean to cause you pain. But I did. And I beg your forgiveness.” His voice was so sincere that I couldn’t resist looking at him, even though I knew I shouldn’t. His eyes were murky and sad, his expression devoid of all the humor it had so recently contained. And now that I noticed, his hair was mussed, as if he’d been tossing and turning in his bed before finally getting
up.
I wasn’t angry with him, I realized. It was impossible to stay angry with a kind man like Sir Bennet. I was still hurt, perhaps. But I couldn’t blame him for all that had happened, especially since Grandmother had deceived him every bit as much as me.
I should have known better. I should have known an attractive man like Bennet wouldn’t fall for a woman like me. I’d been naive. I’d let down my guard. And I wouldn’t let it happen again.
“Will you forgive me, Sabine?” he asked again.
“Of course I forgive you,” I replied with a smile, my peace offering. “You didn’t know that I wasn’t privy to Grandmother’s plans. Besides, for an arranged betrothal, you were certainly doing your best to get to know me and make things work between us. A lot of other men in the same situation wouldn’t have been nearly as nice to me.”
“A lot of women in this situation wouldn’t be nearly as forgiving.”
“As you can tell, I’m not like a lot of other women.”
“You’re above most women.”
“And you know how to flatter better than most men.”
“I’m not flattering you, Sabine.” The sincerity of his tone warmed me like a drink of spiced cider. “I was wrong to consider marrying you for your wealth. I didn’t want to. When my mother first presented me with the option, everything within me cautioned against using a woman for what she could give me. I knew I shouldn’t.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” I said, swiping at a glob of butter and cheese sliding off the edge of bread and licking it from my finger. “We both know that marriage arrangements usually have about as much beauty and love as a farmer purchasing a mate for his sow.”
“Even so, I abhor the thought of using a woman for my own gain.” He took another large bite of his cheese and bread, his brows furrowing in dark frustration.
I wanted to tell him that he didn’t strike me as the sort of man who was out for financial gain. But at the click of the pantry door, both of us jumped away from the table. For the first time since entering the storage room, I realized how inappropriate it was for me to be alone with him in this secluded place.