Page 111 of The Forsaken
“Not since the day before last,” Walter replied. “He went off somewhere.”
“I see.”
“Were ye needing him for something?” Joan’s hands stilled as she watched Kate with that knowing smirk.
“No. I just wondered, that’s all.”
“He’ll come back when he’s good and ready. That’s Guy’s way,” Joan replied, oozing disapproval as her hands returned to her task.
“I’m sure he will.”
Kate left the basket of linen and went back to her room. She just wanted to be alone, especially since the nausea was making itself known again and gnawing at her guts as it intensified. She was curled up in the window seat when there was a soft knock on the door.
“Come,” Kate called, hoping it wasn’t Joan. Some days the woman really grated on her.
It was Eleanor. She looked pale and sad, her golden hair hidden beneath a dun-colored veil that matched her plain, serviceable gown. “How do you fare, Kate?” she asked.
“I’m well. Thank you.”
“Won’t you join me in the Lady Chamber? It’s rather quiet without you.” Eleanor stood awkwardly in the doorway. She’d never actively sought out Kate’s company, taking for granted that Kate would be there whenever she felt like talking to her. “I’ve started a new piece of embroidery. With Adam gone, there’s much less mending to do,” she added wistfully.
Kate had no desire to make small talk with Eleanor, but she felt sorry for the woman. Losing Adam was a big adjustment for her, even if she’d always known the separation would come. “I’m sure Adam is well,” Kate offered as she hauled herself to her feet.
“I worry about him so. He’s so young and vulnerable. What if he gets hurt or falls ill?”
“Eleanor, the earl is a kind man. He looks after his people. Adam will thrive under his tutelage. You’ll see.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but you will,” Eleanor replied spitefully. “Just wait until your child is torn from you, and it will be, be it a boy or a girl. And that’s if both of you even survive the birth.”
Kate blanched at Eleanor’s words. Was Eleanor hoping she’d miscarry, or die in childbed? Did she dislike her that much, or was there some other reason for her venom? She knew Eleanorwas unhappy. A widow was about as useful to society as a three-legged horse, unless she could be married off to forge an alliance with another family or expand the family’s holdings, but since Hugh never sought another marriage for Eleanor, she was caught in an unenviable position. Eleanor was still attractive enough to tempt a man, and fertile enough to bear children, but without the means of getting on with her life, she was left to fade away and turn to dust as time wove its spell and stripped her of her beauty and vitality. Whatever Eleanor’s reasons, Kate couldn’t bring herself to ignore the barb.
“You know, Eleanor, I feel unwell after all. I think I’ll remain here for a spell, if you don’t mind. Please shut the door on your way out.”
Kate turned away, but not before she saw the flare of resentment in the other woman’s eyes.
Kate remained in her chamber for the rest of the afternoon. At any other time, she would have gotten lonely and left her room to seek the companionship of other women, but at the moment, she didn’t mind the solitude. She opened the window and allowed the gentle breeze to caress her face as she looked out over the verdant hills and mist-shrouded valleys. The Tweed flowed peacefully past, the river rippling and sparkling playfully as it wound into the distance. Kate wished she could get into a boat with Guy and float away to a place where no one knew them and they could choose their own destiny and live out their days in blissful anonymity.
A knock on the door startled Kate out of her reverie. Perhaps Eleanor had returned, either to demand that Kate join her or to apologize for her thoughtless comment. Or maybe it was Joan, coming to check on Kate and offer unsolicited advice, as she did more and more now that Kate was with child.
Instead, Guy came in and closed the door softly behind him before joining her at the window. “I’ve come back.”
“I thought I’d driven you away,” Kate replied, smiling foolishly. The sight of Guy restored her spirits and her heart soared with certainty that he still loved her.
“There was a bit of intelligence I needed to follow up on,” Guy explained.
“What sort of intelligence? Is it to do with Warwick?”
“No, this venture was of a purely personal nature. At the Christmas feast, Amelia Ambrose’s father made several comments about lecherous priests,” he said. “Do you recall?”
Kate shrugged. “I didn’t pay much attention to what he said. He’s a bit of a zealot, isn’t he? He sees sin everywhere.”
“He does, but it got me thinking. So I went to Newcastle to do some digging.”
“Guy, I don’t follow.”
“I spent several days visiting taverns, especially those close to the Cathedral Church of St. Nicholas, which happens to be the seat of the Bishop of Newcastle.”
“What were you hoping to accomplish?”
