Page 275 of Historical Hotties
“Greetings, Jane,” she whispered tightly. “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you.”
Jane was looking at her mother with some confusion. “Who are you?”
“I am your mother.”
Jane blinked. Then she stumbled back and held up her hand to Caledonia. “My… mother? But I have no mother!”
“Aye, you do. It is me.”
That seemed to terrify the girl. “You will come no closer!”
Caledonia didn’t look surprised by the child’s reaction, though Darius was. He watched with some concern as Caledonia came out of the kitchen door and faced her daughter.
“Don’t be afraid,” Caledonia said as gently as she could. “I promise that my appearance is a good thing. I will not hurt you, I swear.”
“Nay!” Jane cried. “The… the devil is within you!”
“The devil is not within me,” Caledonia said steadily. “If Madam Madonna told you that, it was a lie. She has been lying to you.”
“Don’t say that!”
“I am sorry, Jane, but she has,” Caledonia said, realizing that she was only seeing a hint of the damage that Madam Madonna had caused. “She has been lying to you all along so you would not love me.”
Jane slapped her hands over her ears. “The devil is speaking to me!” she shrieked. “Go away, devil! Go away from me!”
With that, she fled the kitchen yard through the postern gate, running out behind the keep. Caledonia didn’t try to stop her. She simply stood there, looking at the gate as tears streamed down her cheeks. With a heavy sigh, she wiped off her face and turned back toward the fishpond where the girl who had her feet in the pond was still sitting, now looking at Caledonia curiously.
The other child was still eating dirt.
Two more lost waifs, manipulated by the evil that was Madam Madonna. Caledonia knew she had an uphill battle ahead of her, which had been shockingly evident with her eldest. Jane had been exposed to it the longest. But now… now, she was facing her younger daughters, who didn’t seem as terrified of her as Jane had.
She took a deep breath, composing herself.
She wondered how badly she was going to frighten child number two.
“Greetings, Janet,” Caledonia said to the girl with her feet in the water. “You have grown a good deal, too. Do you know me?”
Janet de Tosni stared at her mother for a moment before taking her feet out of the pond and standing up. She was dressed like a servant, in dirty clothing that was torn. She wore no shoes, nor were there any around that suggested she might have taken them off to put her feet in the pond in the first place. The child was so skinny that surely a strong wind would have blown her away.
“Mother,” she said. “You’re Mother.”
At least she wasn’t running from her. That realization nearly brought tears again. “Aye,” Caledonia said softly. “I am your mother. And you have grown very big since the last I saw you.”
Janet was looking at her with open curiosity. She walked up to her mother, looked at her fine dress, the way her hair waspulled back, and even lifted up the hem of her gown to inspect her shoes. Scrutiny complete, she simply stared at her mother expectantly.
Caledonia wasn’t sure what to say to her. Janet wasn’t fleeing, but she wasn’t welcoming, either. Caledonia crouched down to bring herself more to Janet’s level when she noticed that someone had joined them. The youngest child, with dirt in her mouth, and all over her face and body, had wandered up and was looking at her as if she had no idea who she was. There was simply naked curiosity and nothing more.
Caledonia forced a smile at the child who had turned three years of age this month.
“Greetings, Joan,” she said, looking at the filthy, angelic child. “You have grown just like your sisters. You have become a big girl.”
Joan uttered a sound, possibly a word, but it was difficult to tell with the dirt still in her mouth. She reached out to touch her mother’s hair, getting dirt on it, but Caledonia didn’t care. At least the child was showing some interest in her. In fact, Caledonia thought that it was a rather magical moment, but she couldn’t understand a thing the child was saying.
“My apologies,” she said. “I cannot understand. What did you say?”
“She always talks like that,” Janet said. “She has her own words.”
Caledonia looked at her. “Her own words for what?”
