Red Deception

by J. C. Murtagh

  “I am still the the woman you knew!”

  “The woman I knew never existed!” He pulled away from her grip and stepped into his carriage.

  She watched helplessly as he took one last look at her through the small window before drawing the curtain closed.

  The reins snapped, the carriage lurched forward and rolled down the muddy road.

  Judith pressed her forehead into her knees and wept.

  Chapter 5

  Two Months Later

  Fall always arrived early in Caldwell, and the harvest kept the Timbolt family busy.

  Judith maintained the house as she always did, busying herself with making jams, ciders, and non-perishables for the winter.

  On an unpleasantly cold afternoon, Judith sat at the dining table with a basket of apples. She carefully peeled the mottled red skin from each one, readying them to dry for cider.

  Samuel’s soft laughter carried in through the open doorway as he played in a dry leaf pile.

  A raucous cough broke the calm in the room. Her mother-in-law barreled through the front door with a basket of eggs, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Two of our laying hens froze to death last night and our milk pail has a hole. Finish those apples,” she told Judith between deep breaths, “and go into town, I hear Henry had an overstock of chicks last spring.”

  Henry was the hunchback chicken farmer and town cooper.

  “I’ll need the cart for all of that. Is Garreth finished shoeing the horse?” Judith asked.

  “He should be,” Gertrude said, setting the basket of eggs down on the table and waddling back outside.

  Judith finished peeling the apples and put them aside. She glanced over near the hearth where Garreth’s hound lay asleep. She succumbed to a yawn wishing she could curl up beside him and sleep the rest of the day away.

  She tied her woolen cloak around her shoulders and stepped out into the brisk autumn air to see Garreth waiting for her with the horse and cart.

  “I won’t be gone long,” she said as he helped her into the seat.

  “You’re sure you don’t want me to come along?”

  “I will be fine.”

  He reached out and gave abdomen a soft rub. “I cannot believe we will have another mouth to feed next spring.”

  “If I carry well through the winter.”

  He took her hand. “Maybe we will have our home by then.”

  She pulled her hand away. “I will return soon.”

  She snapped the reigns and headed for town.

  The market was bustling with villagers. She made haste to the cooper. Another man was in front of her, placing an order for twenty cider kegs. Judith waited her turn, glad to be free of her chores for a time.

  “What can I do for you, Judith?” Henry called to her when he was ready.

  “I need a new bucket and two laying hens if you have them.”

  “I’ve got the hens but the bucket will take a while. I have six orders to fill. Can you pick it up tomorrow evening?”

  “Yes, that would be fine.”

  He nodded and marked down her order. “I hear you have a little one the way.”

  She smiled thinly and rested her hand over stomach. “Yes, next spring.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  He only asked payment for the chickens and gave her the bucket for free as a celebratory gift on her expectancy.

  When she stepped out of the cooper’s, she paused in the doorway as a black carriage barreled past her. She held her breath as it halted before the smith shop. Could it be the baron?

  A scrawny man dressed in dark green climbed out of the carriage and hurried into the shop.

  She carried the hen’s cages to her cart and secured them in the back. She cast one last glance at the carriage with a heavy heart.

  His warm hands, soft lips, and dark eyes carried her off to sleep each night. Her love for him was as real as his child that was growing in her womb.

  Just as she was about to snap the reigns, a figure in a black cloak came out of the weapon shop. His back was to her, but she could never mistake his height or his posture. Her eyes watered as Baron Blacwin crossed in front of her, heading toward the armor shop across the road.

  “Baron!” she called, nearly falling as she climbed out of the cart.

  He did not hear her.

  Her feet, clumsy with excitement, carried her toward the armor shop.

  “Baron Blacwin!” she shouted in a last attempt.

  The baron looked over expectantly with his hand on the door. His features hardened and he stared at her with scrutiny. “Judith.”

  She stood a good pace from him, unsure if she should approach.

  “Baron Blacwin,” she said with a curtsey.

  He approached her and she lowered her gaze.

  “How do you fare?” he asked.

  “I have seen happier days. And you?”

  “I, too, have been better.”

  She looked up at him again and his face blurred in her tears. “I was hoping you had forgiven me for my wrongs against you. I will never forgive myself. I am still so very sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes, more than ever. I take it no one has captured your heart yet?”

  “No one will captivate me like ‘Lora Noire’.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Though, as you know, she is dead, or never existed at all.”

  “She does exist and her heart is unchanged,” she assured him.

  “She belongs to another,” he reminded her.

  “Not her heart.”

  His eyes turned cold. “Hearts are weak and cannot be trusted. A good harvest to you, Judith Timbolt.” He tipped his black hat to her and disappeared within the shop.

  She bowed her head and walked back to the cart. It took all of her will to fight the tears building in her eyes. Would he ever find it in his heart to forgive her? Did it even matter?

  ***

  Judith spent the next day making apple butter while her husband and father-in-law chopped a winter’s worth of wood.

  The smell of the roasting quail that Garreth had caught that morning caused her stomach to groan irritably. The pregnancy had been kind to her, besides giving her the appetite of a ravenous wolf.

  When it came time for supper, she had only finished but three bites before she was dismissed from the table. She had forgotten to retrieve the bucket from town. Her mother-in-law demanded she go fetch it.

  Judith wearily walked to town, trying to ignore the emptiness gnawing in her stomach. To get her mind off her hunger pangs, she imagined what the child inside of her would become. Would he have the baron’s dark eyes? His lips? His disposition? If only she could live with the baron and raise her children in the comfort she never knew, far away from the cold thatch house and Timbolt family.

  When she reached town, most of the vendors were packing up their goods for the evening. Her heart sank when she saw that the bread merchant had left. She had hoped to beg for a stale loaf. Sighing, she continued to the cooper.

  When she arrived, her bucket, smelling of fresh cedar, was waiting for her on the counter. She took it, thanked the cooper, and set back out onto the road.

  Her stomach rumbled and she prayed there would be supper left at home when she returned.

  The market square was empty besides two children chasing each other.

  A merchant carrying a basket of apple passed before her. She could almost taste how sweet they were.

  “Excuse me. Could I please make a purchase?” she asked, her mouth watering.

  The man turned and looked her over with scrutiny. “How much ya got?”

  “Three shillings.” She grabbed at her pocket for the coins.

  The sound of a horses hooves charging through the square drowned out the man’s reply. A scream caught in her throat and she covered her head as a horse reared up behind her. The fruit merchant nearly dropped his basket.

  She turned to see who tried to t
rample her, and looked into the eyes of the baron, seated on his snorting black steed. He tossed a satchel of shillings on the fruit-seller’s basket.

  “That should cover the cost of the basket.”

  Judith was speechless.

  The merchant set the basket down beside her and took the coin.

  “Thank you, my kind and gracious baron!” He backed away from them and hurried down the road.

  She looked back to the baron, and he tipped his head. “Judith.”

  “That was overly generous of you.”

  “You looked hungry, and he was about to rob you of all you had.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was picking up my crossbow; it needed repairs.”

  “I see.” She took an apple from the basket and rubbed it clean with her cloak. “I have no need for this whole basket of apples.”

  “Share it with your family.”

  “You are too generous. How could I ever repay you?”

  “Might I have a moment alone with you?”

  The apple that she was about to enjoy paused before her lips. “A moment alone?”

  He offered his hand to her. “I don’t have much time.”

  She contemplated his outstretched hand for a moment before she let him pull her up on the horse.

  Blacwin nodded to his men on horseback across the road. “Bring this fruit to the Timbolt home at the edge of town! Call it a gift from the baron.”

  He snapped the reins and sent the horse jumping a step forward. She grasped his waist as they galloped out of the market.

  Chapter 6

  They rode down a forest path leading deep into thick woods. Her heart raced wildly in anticipation of where he might be taking her. She closed her eyes and clung to him, taking in his comforting scent as tree limbs scratched at her arms and stung her cheeks in passing.

  When the horse slowed, Judith peeked around him to see ruins of an old church. The baron dismounted and reached up for her. She slid from the saddle into his arms. A cold breeze blew a lock of her hair into her eyes.

  “What is this place?” she asked pulling away from him.

  “It was once the first church of Caldwell.”

  “Why did you bring me here?” she asked wandering over to a crumbling wall and brushing some moss away to reveal a beautiful stained glass window.

  “I have a question for you,” he said, following her.

  “Yes?”

  He took her into his arms. “Do you wish to disappear for good, Judith?”

  She furrowed her brows. “I…I don’t understand.”

  His expression turned impatient. “You were so eager to leave everything behind when you took Lora’s identity. So I ask you: Do you still wish to disappear?”

  Fear consumed her and she took a step back. “You mean to execute me?”

  “No, God, no,” he shook his head. “I want to help you and your son get away from that family, if that is what you desire. I cannot forget the way he struck you. Knowing you are mistreated weighs on my mind.”

  “It does?”

  He brushed his hand against her cheek. “Yes. I have not been able to forget you, no matter how hard I try. When I saw you in the market yesterday, I decided somehow I must help you.”

  She smiled and embraced him, placing her cheek against his chest. “You could take me as your wife.”

  “No, Judith.” He pulled her back and looked into her eyes. “Let me explain what I have in mind.”

  She remained silent, waiting to hear what he had devised.

  “We could feign your death. There are herbs that can make one fall into a deep sleep—so deep, it will be disguised as death itself. We can say it was self-inflicted. There are many ways. My point is, if they suspect your dead, you can find a new identity and flee Caldwell.”

  “It would be a selfless thing to do for me, but I cannot.” She refused to leave Sam again.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “My son.”

  “I will find a way for him to be sent to you once you are safe.”

  “I don’t see how any of this helps you in anyway.”

  He looked at her. “Knowing that you are well and no safe from harm will bring me peace.”

  “And you will take another for a wife?”

  “If I were able to marry a peasant I would put a ring on your hand this very moment.”

  “What if I were carrying your unborn child in my womb?”

  The sounds of the forest closed in on them. He studied her face, his dark eyes searching hers for meaning in her words.

  “You are with child?”

  Judith took his hand and pressed it firmly against her abdomen. “I am.”

  He blinked twice. “And it is… mine?”

  “Yes, I am certain that it is. I cannot remember the last time I lay with Garreth.”

  “Does he suspect it’s not his?”

  “No. He cannot even recall the last time we lay together let alone what we had for supper last night.”

  “I do not know what to say,” he said with a hint of elation. He leaned against a tree, rubbing his forehead.

  “Do not say anything. Garreth is pleased; he knows no different.”

  “Yes, but I know different. He doesn’t deserve you, or this child.”

  She grabbed his sleeve. “Then take us. Take what is willingly yours…”

  He turned and took her by the wrist, his lips thin with irritation.

  She held her breath, unsure of what he would do.

  When he pulled her against him and pressed a hard kiss against her mouth, her heart sang. Their tongues danced and their hands caressed one another. When she pulled back to look into his eyes, she found a familiar the desire in them.

  He bowed his head against her neck. ‘I would take you now if I did not have the responsibility of a baron.”

  “I would gladly oblige,” she whispered against his ear, lifting her leg against his waist.

  His hand pulled her skirt back and caressed her naked thigh. “Judith, you belong to another. We should not.”

  “No, my heart is yours,” she pleaded, taking his face in her hands and kissing his lips again.

  “It is a sin,” he growled against her mouth, his hand trailing further up her leg.

  “The sin is already made,” she said, and placed his palm against her prominent abdomen.

  They staggered into the ruined church and dropped to the ground. She settled on his lap and left reckless kisses on his lips while her hands fought his belt free from his trousers.

  He unlaced her bodice and pulled her chemise down to expose her breasts. His tongue traced her taught nipples and made her whole body ache.

  Her moans echoed through the dark wood and her hips burrowed down into him, aching for release.

  Desire overcame the baron’s conscience. He removed the last of her clothing and admired her, tracing his hand delicately over the proof of their previous indiscretion.

  Their lovemaking had been different when she was Lora Noire. This time, there were no secrets and their feelings were sincere.

  It was nearly sundown as they lay in each other’s arms, wrapped in the warmth of his fur cloak. Not even the cold autumn air that whispered through the broken walls could cool the heat radiating between them.

  Judith listened to his breathing and the excited beating of his heart, wishing there was a way she could be in his arms forever.

  “If I go through with this plan, will you come see me after I am safe?”

  “Of course I would,” he assured her.

  “Is there a chance I may not wake?”

  “There’s always a risk, Judith…just as there was when you claimed to be Lora.”

  She closed her eyes. “If I do not wake, will you make sure my son is well cared for?”

  “Of course.” He kissed her fingertips.

  Before the woods became too dark to navigate, they redressed themselves and rode back out of the forest. They spoke of their plan to free he
r as they traveled back toward town.

  Before long, the road that led to the Timbolt cottage came into view.

  The baron dismounted and helped her to her feet.

  She watched a hot plume of his breath escape his lips. ”We will meet tonight, by the stream?”

  “Yes, by the stream north of the cottage. It is in a clearing. I’ll wait there for you there.”

  “Until then, Judith,” he called out, re-mounting his horse.

  He passed her the bucket, which he had carried on his saddle, and gave his horse a few swift kicks. She watched him gallop off into the darkness toward the manor.

  ***

  She could not wipe the lighthearted smile off her face even when she stepped inside the cottage. She found her mother-in-law knitting in her rocking chair near the hearth.

  “It’s about time you returned home. We thought the bandits had taken you again.”

  “No, the bucket was not ready. I had to wait for it.”

  She seemed pleased with that response. “The baron sent us a basket of fruit.”

  “Did he? How kind of him.”

  “Everyone fell asleep waiting for you.”

  She could hear her father-in-law snoring in the first floor bedroom. Thankfully, she did not have to answer to him as to why she was late.

  She climbed up the ladder and dressed in her nightclothes, figuring she would rest until the hour came for her escape. She settled onto the straw pile next to her husband and son.Garreth mumbled a few slurred phrases. She pulled the thin blanket they shared over her body. Sam wrapped his small arm around her, and laid his head on her shoulder. She kissed his temple and tears burned her eyes. This would be the last night she slept on coarse hay in the cold. It was her last night at Judith Timbolt.

  The scenario of her escape danced repeatedly in her mind. She could see it, her husband weeping over her dead body, covered in animal blood. They would collect her lifeless form and mourn her. After she was placed in a coffin the baron would take her body-- and she would awaken a free woman.

  She waited until the moon was high overhead before she redressed. Upon reaching the bottom of the ladder, she found Gertrude slumped over in her chair with a smoking pipe between her lips. A quiet snore escaped her as Judith crept past her. Pulling on her cloak, she took the small lantern near the door and cast her mother-in-law one last, worried glance before she escaped into the dark night.