by Jody Hedlund
“One of your favorites,” Mitchell said smiling in response. “Gingerbread.”
“Oh, Mitchell.” She accepted the sweet treat, then lifted the cake to her lips and took a bite. As her lips closed around the delicacy, her lashes fell and she released a soft moan of pleasure.
My sights locked upon her ecstasy, and I watched each bite, wishing I’d been the one to bring her a sweet treat instead of Mitchell. If I’d but taken a moment to think about her, I would have remembered how fond she was of desserts. Over the past year of starvation, she likely hadn’t had many opportunities for indulgences.
Mitchell watched her with as much fascination as I did. As before, his interest in Adelaide was as unsettling as my own. Perhaps Mitchell had already reconciled himself to the fact that Adelaide was no longer just a playmate and was indeed an eligible and heart-stopping young woman.
However, I was having a difficult time adjusting to her changes, scolding myself for viewing her as anything more than my cousin, and at the same time unable to keep my newfound enthrallment at bay.
Her eyes flew open, and she lifted the cake to Mitchell. “I am being selfish. You must have a bite as well.”
He shook his head. “And give up the gratification of watching you devour it? No. I could not.”
She smiled at his gallant answer. Then she turned to me and held out the cake. “I would share with you, too, my lord.”
I began to cross the room, knowing I should deny her request as Mitchell had done, that I should allow her to eat the entire rare treat. But something drove me that I didn’t understand.
When I stopped in front of her, I opened my mouth.
She broke off a corner and placed the piece past my lips, being careful not to touch them. Before she could remove her hand, I closed my mouth trapping her fingers inside.
It was the kind of trick I would have played on her if we’d been children. But as my lips closed around the cake and her fingers, a strange jolt rocked me at the same instant she sucked in a rapid breath.
I expected her to yank her fingers loose, to take a step back, to even shove me away for my antics. Instead, she froze, her gaze riveted to my mouth. I could only stand stupidly, letting the cake liquefy on my tongue, tasting the honey and molasses. More than the sweetness of the cake, the feeling of her fingers against my lips was a sensation that caused me to forget about food altogether.
Her eyes widened, her growing embarrassment reflecting mine, though I had no wish to let on my conflicted reaction. So I languidly released her, as if I made an everyday practice of allowing young women to feed me.
She withdrew her hand and stared down at the remaining gingerbread, refusing to meet my bold gaze. Only then did I become conscious of Mitchell’s dark glare—one that said he was well aware of the changing dynamics with Adelaide, a change he liked for himself but didn’t support for me.
Adelaide took another quick bite, clearly attempting to hide her discomfort. “It is delicious, Mitchell. I thank you for the gift.”
“I would give you a whole cake if I could.” The moment Adelaide ducked her head in acknowledgement of his compliment, he sliced me with another sharp glare.
“You are always so thoughtful.” She squeezed his arm.
He placed his hand over hers.
I paused in my chewing to watch their exchange. Understanding finally penetrated the haze of my conscience. Mitchell not only loved Adelaide. He also wanted her for himself every bit as much as he wanted the inheritance.
Adelaide might not recognize Mitchell’s feelings and intentions yet. But I did. Though something inside me resisted Mitchell’s claim on her, I realized he was the solution to Adelaide’s woes. She could marry Mitchell instead of Lord Mortimer and become the Countess of Langley. Once the arrangements were made, I’d be able to leave knowing she was safe and that Mitchell would do everything within his power to make her happy.
If only the prospect brought me more joy . . .
Chapter
6
Adelaide
Sitting in the presence of both my cousins should have been a happy occasion. But I was riddled with memories of our family from when Aunt Susanna and Uncle Whelan had been alive and we’d all still been together. I missed those carefree days. More than that, I missed my aunt’s calming presence.
With Mitchell next to me and Christopher on the opposite bench, the air between the two was tense. I wanted to punch them both and tell them to stop behaving like children. Instead, I tried to view the situation as Aunt Susanna would, attempting to be a peacemaker.
“We have but a remnant of our sheep left,” I said in response to one of Christopher’s questions. “The demand for wool has decreased. People cannot pay or trade for wool when they must use everything they have to secure food.”
The windows in the great hall were still open, allowing the coolness of the summer night to bathe the stone walls and drive the staleness from the air. We’d already finished our simple supper of roasted hen, salad greens, and thick slices of bread. Now I indulged in another sweetmeat from the bowl at the center of the table. How Mitchell had managed to procure both gingerbread and sweetmeats I didn’t know. And for this eve, I didn’t care.
“So there is no income at Langley from any source whatsoever?” Christopher asked. “Not even from the Everly smelters?”
“We have taken care of the estate the best we could,” Mitchell said testily. “Although I am sure you think you could have done better.”
“Under the severe circumstances, I doubt it.” Christopher reached for a sweetmeat, and I tried not to think about the moment when his mouth had closed over my fingers. Even so, the memory resurfaced along with a warmth deep in my belly.
“We shall do better this year,” I cut in, trying to divert my attention away from the resurgence of girlish feelings for Christopher, mortified the infatuation had so easily surfaced and that he’d likely seen it. “The crops are abundant and healthy.”
Before we could converse further, Tall John approached the table. He bowed before addressing me. “My lady, you have a visitor.”
“Who is it?” I never had visitors and couldn’t imagine who might seek me out, especially after darkness had descended.
Tall John would not meet my gaze even though I’d assured him many times that I counted him my friend more than a servant. “An old woman. Not from around here.”
I rose, and Mitchell and Christopher did likewise. “She did not give her name or the purpose of her visit?”
“She said she could speak to no one but you, and that it must be alone.”
“Send her away,” Mitchell said. “We cannot be too careful whom we trust.”
I met Mitchell’s gaze and knew he was remembering everything Aunt Susanna had told us the night she’d died. If what my aunt said was true, then King Ethelwulf was in all likelihood still searching for me. Mitchell was right. We had to be careful about who we trusted.
Even so, if the woman was in need, if she was no more than a mere peasant asking for aid, how could I turn her away?
Christopher had raised his brow, his eyes radiating curiosity at our caution when yesterday I’d gone about the villages so freely.
The truth was if King Ethelwulf suspected me, he could have captured me yesterday when I was hunting or riding throughout the countryside. Besides, he wouldn’t send an old woman. “You may bring her in here, John,” I finally said. “Tell her I shall hold an audience with my cousins present or not at all.”
“Adelaide,” Mitchell protested. “Will you never heed me?”
“What harm can a lone woman do to the three of us? We are armed and able to defend ourselves.”
Mitchell merely shook his head while Tall John bowed and retreated to do my bidding. We sat again, none of us talking.
“Are you in some danger I should know about?” Christopher glanced first at me and then Mitchell.
Mitchell ignored his brother and focused on me. “You have not divulged anything of what M
other revealed?”
“Divulged what?”
“’Tis nothing of importance,” I replied, not wishing to speak of something I longed to put behind me and ignore.
“If you are in danger, I would like to know.” With the dust and grime of his travel washed away, his hair combed, and wearing clean garments, Christopher made a dashing portrait. I dared not look into his dark eyes lest he sense how attractive he was. He was already well aware of his charm and needed no further puffing up on my account.
“You have no need to know,” Mitchell said. “You have not been here in the past to care, and you will not be here beyond the morrow. So leave off any pretenses that you care today.”
“Believe it or not—” Christopher’s voice turned hard. “—I do care. Very much.”
Before the two could engage in a full battle, we were interrupted by Tall John returning with a stooped figure shuffling behind him. Again I rose, this time to greet my guest. With a dark cloak concealing her body and large hood obscuring her face, I could tell nothing except that she was hunchbacked and had a severely lopsided gait.
When she stopped in front of me, she lowered herself to her knees. Uncertain of the woman’s intentions, my fingers found the rounded butt of my dagger. I could feel more than see both Christopher and Mitchell stiffen in readiness as well.
When the woman bowed to the ground before me and held herself in the low position reserved for royalty, surprise coursed through me. Tradition demanded that as her superior, I acknowledge her first before she could speak to me. For an instant, I sorely considered sending her away without a word, for I sensed I would not like what she had to say. But when her slight frame began to tremble, I relented.
“I am Lady Adelaide,” I said. “Tall John said you wished to see me.”
She lifted her head from the ground but did not look up. “Your Majesty,” she said in a gravelly voice. “I am your faithful servant.”
Even though she spoke quietly, her words seemed to reverberate off the walls as if she’d shouted them. They sent chills down my spine and over my skin. Only Aunt Susanna had called me that, upon her deathbed, in her last breath. Now this woman had not only bowed low before me but was using the royal title.
I could feel Christopher’s attention shift to me, but I didn’t want to confront his confusion when mine had surfaced once more.
“I have a message for Your Royal Majesty,” the woman spoke again. “For Constance Dierdal Aurora, the queen and true heir of Mercia.”
I wanted to object to her labels and calling me queen. But how could I? Not after everything Aunt Susanna had already told me. Not when I had the royal ring and the ancient key within my possession in the leather pouch beneath my kirtle. Not when deep in my soul I sensed the truth about who I was even though I’d tried to disregard it.
Again, I felt Christopher’s scrutiny as well as his surprise. Thankfully, he refrained from questioning me.
“You may speak freely.” I touched her shoulder gently.
Slowly the woman sat back on her heels and made as though to rise. Every move seemed momentous and painful for her. I was relieved when Christopher stepped forward and assisted the woman back to her feet. When she finally stood again in front of me, she lifted her head and removed her hood.
My heart stuttered to a stop at the sight that greeted me—a grotesque, deformed face. Patches of thin, wispy, snow-white hair grew in clumps about her scarred scalp, as if fistfuls of her locks had been pulled out at one time and had never grown back. Half her face was splotched and shriveled, as if she’d had burning oil poured upon her skin or been subjected to a fire. The socket of one eye was completely shut, and from the sunken appearance, I guessed she had no eye there anymore.
I swallowed my revulsion and prayed for this poor, tortured creature. Whatever had happened to her, she had indeed suffered greatly. As a result, she deserved my compassion and kindness.
“What may I do for you?” I asked. “Do you have need of food? I have not much, but I will give you anything I can.”
She lifted her head higher. Her neck was threaded with scars that disappeared into a tattered gray habit.
A gray habit the color of stone. A nun. From St. Cuthbert’s in the Iron Hills?
My gaze snapped to hers, to her one open eye, a gray-blue that was as gentle as a mourning dove. More than the color, I remembered the kindness. It was still there, along with joy and pride.
“Sister Katherine?” I asked.
She nodded. From the wizened set of her mouth, I could tell she’d lost her teeth.
“Aunt Susanna said King Ethelwulf captured and imprisoned you. We believed you were dead.”
“No. He did not dare destroy his only link to you.”
Awe and gratefulness mingled together for this woman who had saved my life so long ago by bringing me here to Langley. I had an overwhelming urge to embrace her and started to reach for her.
“I am not worthy, Your Majesty.” She tucked her hands into the wide sleeves of her cloak, but not before I glimpsed the numerous missing digits and stubs—all that remained of her hands. The sight confirmed that Sister Katherine had indeed been sorely abused, and the thought lit a flame of anger in my chest. Who would dare treat any woman, much less a woman of God, this way?
Before I could formulate a response, a gust of night breeze swept through the open windows and banged one of the shutters against the stone, shattering the silence. Sister Katherine jumped, and fear fell over her features, making her thin lips tremble and her chin quiver. She glanced to the door of the great hall as if expecting someone to barge in.
I could not say why, but an impending sense of doom fell over me as palpably as if the castle had suddenly been besieged.
She turned her attention back to me, a new urgency tightening her already taut skin. “Your Majesty,” she said in a calm but ominous tone, “I have come to you today on your twentieth birthday to inform you the time has arrived for you to regain your throne.”
Her one eye held me captive with its intensity—a strength that wouldn’t let me push aside her wild statement, a strength that demanded a response.
“How will I regain the throne?” I asked the first question that came to mind, the one that had haunted me these past weeks. “I am one woman against a king with a powerful army.”
“You are not alone. You must find your sisters. Together you will discover the treasure that will enable you to destroy the evil that has blighted this land.”
I didn’t know how finding two younger sisters would help me regain a throne I wasn’t even sure I wanted. “Do you know where they are?”
“Emmeline is deep in Inglewood Forest, raised by a charcoal burner and his wife. And Maribel is at St. Anne’s in the Highlands.”
Emmeline and Maribel. The names were foreign to me. If I’d ever heard them, I’d long forgotten them. I tested them silently, marveling that I had sisters. Did they know anything about me or their true identities?
Again Sister Katherine glanced behind her to the door. “You must make all haste away. They will be here ere the night ends.”
“Who will be here?” Christopher asked, his voice ringing with alarm.
“The king’s men. They are following me here.”
“Following you?” Mitchell asked, his eyes widening. “Then you have put Adelaide in danger.”
“She’s in grave danger,” Christopher agreed. From his intense expression, I could tell he was already plotting our next course of action.
“’Tis the only reason the king has kept me alive all these years,” Sister Katherine remarked. “He knew if he set me loose close to your twentieth birthday, at the age of royal ascension, I would seek you out and give you the information you’d need to find your sisters.”
“Then you have condemned her to death,” Mitchell said, his face turning pale, “as surely as if you’d plunged the sword through her yourself.”
“The battle must be fought before it can be won.” When Sister Kath
erine met my gaze, I realized she’d purposefully set the course of my future into motion with her visit. Had she guessed I would be confused and complacent? That I would be reluctant to defy King Ethelwulf?
Even if I was the rightful heir of Mercia, I’d mostly been happy with my life in Langley. If I set out to find my sisters so we could rebel against King Ethelwulf, I’d have to leave everything behind. The life I’d known would cease to exist.
“How much time do we have before Ethelwulf’s men arrive?” Christopher asked Sister Katherine.
“I was not so easy to follow as they expected.” Sister Katherine gave the ghost of a smile. “I have given you several hours’ head start. If you leave right away.”
Her words were all the warning Christopher required. He darted forward, calling instructions for Tall John to saddle our horses.
“You do not need to trouble yourself,” Mitchell called after Christopher. “You may as well be on your way back to Norland.”
Christopher halted in the doorway and spun, his body rigid with the bearing of a man accustomed to not only a knight’s life but of commanding others. “I shall see Adelaide to safety.”
“You do not think me capable of protecting our cousin?” Even in this harried moment, Mitchell’s tone condemned Christopher.
“We will be stronger together,” Christopher replied.
“Adelaide and I have fared well enough without you so far. You cannot walk back in here and behave as though you care what becomes of us when you have given no care before. We do not need you now either.”
Christopher stared at his brother a moment before shifting his focus to me. “Is this how you feel as well, Adelaide? I do not wish to leave until I know you are secure from Ethelwulf. But as I have been woefully absent during your previous hardships, I cannot claim any right to be here for you now.”
I looked from Mitchell to Christopher. I was proud of the men they had become. In spite of the hurts and difficulties that had arisen since Christopher’s leaving, I could not deny my affection for both. They were the only family I had known.