Page 53 of The Forsaken
Kate’s only solace was her relationship with Guy. He’d recovered sufficiently after a few weeks abed, but his arm still pained him and he suffered from frequent headaches and occasional loss of vision. Guy managed everything on his own, but he could no longer wield a sword or lift anything heavier than a puppy. One of the Scottish Deerhound bitches had given birth a few weeks since, and Adam brought the puppies into the keep for company. He named them Angus and Hamish. Angus slept in Adam’s bedchamber, but he generously gave Hamish to Guy tocheer him up. The puppy followed Guy everywhere, its warm brown eyes eager for attention.
Kate often bumped into Guy just as she was leaving the chapel in the morning, and they broke their fast together since Hugh and Eleanor were still abed. After breakfast, they’d go for a walk. Guy needed to regain his strength after so many weeks of immobility, so they walked a little further each day, sometimes going almost as far as Berwick Castle, which rose above the River Tweed like a giant beast, peering from behind the curtain wall punctuated by nine watch towers. Kate liked walking toward the castle and would have liked to go as far as the town, but since most people’s loyalty in this part of England still lay with the House of Lancaster, it was best avoided for fear of confrontation. Kate and Guy usually turned back as soon as they came across the castle’s inhabitants or townsfolk.
Guy often spoke to Kate of his childhood and ambitions for the future. Being the youngest brother, he’d always been overshadowed by William and Hugh, but now that he was nearly five and twenty, he was ready to think for himself, a development that Hugh wouldn’t welcome. Despite Adam inheriting the title, Hugh enjoyed playing the lord of the manor too much to countenance any opposition from anyone. He’d stepped into William’s shoes and meant to remain in charge until Adam came of age. There were moments, during the darkest hours of the night, when Kate allowed herself to believe that Hugh wouldn’t be too heartbroken if Adam never reached adulthood. He’d grieve for the boy, since he seemed genuinely fond of him, but Adam’s death would mean Hugh’s ascension to the baronetcy, something he coveted above all else. Guy never spoke of Hugh’s ambitions in that regard, but Kate knew he kept a watchful eye on Adam and often frustrated Hugh by putting a damper on his plans. Guy was the voice of reason, whereas Hugh was the force for change.
Kate didn’t have much say in any significant changes, but one aspect of her life she wished to improve was her relationship with Joan. Joan had been the true lady of the house in everything but name since the death of Marie de Rosel. She’d run thehousehold and raised the children, and continued to rule the roost even after William married Eleanor. Joan should have stepped aside and allowed Lady de Rosel to take her rightful place in the household, but Joan was too set in her ways and Eleanor too timid to assert her rights. In truth, Kate didn’t think Eleanor minded. She was the kind of woman who preferred to have someone else make the decisions for her, and deal with the consequences as well. She was only too happy to surrender the running of the household and even the raising of her son to the formidable Joan, who treated her like a dimwitted child, to be scolded and rewarded as the situation demanded, but Kate would have none of it. Eleanor was still Lady de Rosel, in name, but Hugh was the head of the family, which made Kate the acting mistress, and she would not permit Joan to usurp her place. Lady Dancy had taught her daughter much, by lesson and by example, and one of the most important pieces of advice, before the decision had been made to send Kate off to the priory, was that the mistress of the house should always keep her servants in line.
Joan had initially welcomed Kate into her domain, but did not take kindly to her interference once she realized Kate wouldn’t get bored and return to spending her days with Eleanor in the Lady Chamber. Kate tried to suggest minor changes, or propose certain economies, which Joan wouldn’t countenance just on principle. She would not give up her place without a fight, and Kate was beginning to suspect that she’d not adhere to any rules of combat. Joan tolerated Kate in her kitchen but was often resentful and abrupt in her eagerness to drive Kate away. Kate supposed she could understand Joan’s feelings, given that she’d ruled the roost since the days of the last Lady de Rosel, but some part of her refused to let Joan have her way. Kate was respectful and polite to the older woman, but she did insist on certain minor changes in the running of the household, which angered Joan and fed her resentment.
Kate noticed that Joan kept a watchful eye on everything she did, and at times seethed with baseless jealousy, as if Kate had stolen the affection of her boys from her. Joan was particularly possessive of Guy, whom she still saw as her ward. Kate andGuy’s relationship was innocent, but if Joan’s sly looks were to be taken seriously, they had something to feel ashamed of. Or perhaps it was Kate’s guilty conscience that troubled her and made her see something that wasn’t truly there.
Guy never made inappropriate comments or touched her without good reason. He held out his hand to help her over a slippery patch, or kissed her on both cheeks when congratulating her on her marriage, but he never behaved like anything other than a devoted brother. Kate herself was the problem. Several times she woke in the night, her cheeks flaming and her heart beating fast, and she realized she’d been dreaming of Guy. In her dreams, Guy wasn’t the brother she loved, but the husband she adored, and the ache in her heart when wakefulness abruptly yanked her back to reality was a testament to how she truly felt about him. She never dreamed of Hugh, nor did her body rouse to him the way it roused to Guy in her dreams, but Hugh was her husband, and she would be loyal to him in deed and thought, and Guy would forever remain her brother by marriage.
THIRTY-TWO
After leaving the chapel, Kate headed to the kitchen. To her disappointment, Guy hadn’t been dawdling outside waiting for her. Perhaps he’d decided to remain in bed a little longer since rain was coming down in a torrent and the sky was a threatening shade of greenish gray. A walk was out of the question, and for Kate, it was too gloomy to sew. She often got headaches when sewing by insufficient light, so she took advantage of sunny mornings to work on her mending and embroidery.
Joan nodded to her as she walked in, pushing a plate of sliced bread and a dish of butter toward her. Kate poured herself a cup of ale and buttered the bread. She was always hungry in the mornings and wished for something more substantial than bread. At the priory, they often had boiled eggs, a breakfast that kept her satisfied until the midday meal.
“Where’s Aileen this morning?” Kate asked Joan, who was cutting up strips of meat and tossing them into a bowl.
“How should I know?” Joan snapped. “Haven’t seen her yet this morning. Perhapsher ladyshiphas decided to sleep in on account of the foul weather.”
Kate ignored Joan’s sarcasm. It wasn’t her place to criticize Joan’s treatment of the help, but she often felt that Joan was unnecessarily unkind to the girl. Perhaps Aileen was ill.
“Is that for the dogs?” Kate asked, jutting her chin in the direction of the bowl of bones and gristle.
“Aye, it is. Now I’ll have to take it out meself,” Joan grumbled.
“I’ll take it.”
“Ye’ll get soaked.”
“A little rain never hurt anyone,” Kate replied. She finished her breakfast and reached for the bowl. She liked going to the kennel. It was a pleasant way to spend a few minutes, surrounded by the castle dogs. They always wagged their tails and nudged her hands with their damp noses, eager to be acknowledged.
“Suit yerself,” Joan replied, clearly glad not to have to go outside in the rain.
Kate let herself out the back door and ran across the yard to the kennel. Her hair was dripping by the time she got to the cover of the outbuilding and the hem of her gown was muddied. The hungry dogs greeted her like an old friend and gathered around her in anticipation. Kate divided the meat equally among their bowls and stood back as they began to gobble up the food. She made sure they had enough water to drink, and opened the door, ready to sprint back to the kitchen. The rain had let up a bit, and a patch of pale blue sky was just visible beneath the leaden clouds.
Kate was about to cross the yard when she noticed a stealthy movement by the stables. Aileen slipped out the door, the hood of her cloak pulled low over her face. Kate couldn’t see her eyes, but she saw her mouth, which was stretched into a happy grin. Aileen ran across the yard and disappeared through the door leading to the kitchen. She must have known she’d get a tongue-lashing from Joan, but she didn’t seem overly concerned. Kate remained sheltered in the kennel and watched, wondering what had made Aileen so happy. A few minutes later, Walter emerged from the stables, wearing an almost identical grin on his boyish face. Walter began to cross the yard, so Kate left her hiding place and intercepted him midway.
“Good morrow, mistress,” Walter called out cheerfully. His clothes were grubby, but he seemed very pleased with himself.
“Good morrow. Have you had your breakfast, Walter?”
“Not just yet. Glynis foaled last night, and I was with her until the early hours.”
“Were you alone?” Kate asked, wondering why Alf wasn’t there to help Walter deliver the foal. Strictly speaking it wasn’t part of Walter’s duties to assist with a birth. He only looked after the war horses, while Alf took care of the rest.
“Aye, all alone,” Walter lied cheerily.
“Where’s Alf?”
“His old bones need their rest, mistress, and Jed’s too young to be of any help. Not to worry, the little fellow is healthy and beautiful, and I’m famished.”
“Walter, was Aileen with you all night?” Kate demanded. Walter looked like he was about to deny the charge, but Kate gave him a severe look, warning him not to lie to her.
Walter reddened and lowered his eyes. “She was. She only wanted to help.”
