Page 121 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
“You save your sweet talk for those ninnies who don’t know any better.” Ann’s severe expression didn’t fool him. It was the same one the housekeeper used when he and Richard were boys and filched freshly baked tarts set to cool.
“You know, sweet Ann, you’re the only one for me.”
The housekeeper chuckled.
“How are they?” Jamie took on a somber tone and glanced toward the hall as he removed his cloak and gloves and gave them to Ann.
“As good as one can expect. The family will be glad you’re here. You go on.” Ann padded off leaving him to find his way.
He stepped to the doorway and stood at the Great Hall, a place as familiar and comfortable as his own. Servants were busy at the raised dais with a large table at the far side of the room, preparing for the afternoon meal. Trestle tables and benches were already pulled away from the walls and ready for the others in the castle.
The whitewashed stone walls were adorned with large silk tapestries; a few depicted armies and others portrayed gardens. All the wall hangings added color and warmth to the room. The sideboard, dressed with linens, displayed silver plate. Family banners hung from the rafters. A large fire roared behind the grate and above the fireplace hung the family crest. The hall was warm and comfortable and filled with the aroma of lavender and spice, but none of that dispelled the sadness that hung everywhere.
As soon as Darla noticed him, she sprang from her chair near the fireplace, ran to Jamie and hugged him close. A handsome woman, her hair had turned a glistening snow white since last they saw each other. Her face lit up in a smile although it didn’t hide the stress of the day.
“Jamie, I’m glad you’ve come to us.”
“I was with Herbert when the news arrived or I would have been here sooner. He’s sorry for your loss. We all are.” She gave him a weak smile and patted his arm. Darla’s tear-swollen eyes said it all and he grieved even more. He offered Darla his arm and escorted her back to Lord Wesley, their daughter, Laura, and a gentleman who sat with them, Stelton he assumed.
“Do you know Alex Stelton?” Darla asked. “His mother and I are friends at court.”
Alex put down his tankard and rose.
Jamie nodded. Yes, he knew Stelton. He had only seen him from afar, but he was one you didn’t easily forget. Richard told him Stelton was one of the English king’s favorite knights. Shorter than Jamie, which was nothing out of the ordinary. Stelton had dark wavy hair with a lock that fell over his forehead. His eyes were a silver-blue and held vast knowledge and understanding. The words just and honorable came to mind.
“You’re not leaving?” Darla asked Alex.
“It’s time for me to be on my way. I’ve overstayed my welcome and have drunk too much of Wesley’s ale.” Wesley let out a rusty laugh. Alex bowed to Darla and her daughter and approached Jamie.
“We meet at last. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. Richard spoke of you often and with great respect. Many will miss him. My family and I included.” Alex’s voice faded.
“Richard told me much about you and your brothers, how as boys you terrorized the court with your games and antics. For a moment or two I resented not being English.” The two men shared a common ally.
“Someday, we will have to sit, drink Wesley’s ale and talk of Richard. I’m sure we both have stories to keep us up until morning,” Alex said.
“Any excuse to drink Wesley’s ale. Have you been able to get his recipe?” Jamie asked in a conspiratorial whisper. Alex’s eyes lit with laughter.
“No, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t try over the last few days.” Alex took his great coat off a bench and put it on.
“Keep the wind at your back,” Jamie said. With a nod, Alex turned and left.
Wesley slouched in his chair and stared at the fire, the grief still raw on his face. The man had aged over the year. His gray hair thinned. His eyes, well, they were rimmed in red and dulled with pain.
“He’s been like this since we buried… the burial.” Laura, Richard’s little sister, stood next to him. “Father tires easily and stays locked up inside. Mother is the sole person who can reach him, although I have hope. Alex did make him laugh.”
Jamie’s focus turned to Laura, the younger of the two sisters. Laura and Lisbeth were similar from their slender, petite size, long dark hair and large green eyes to their fan of thick dark lashes. The sisters may be similar in appearance, however not in temperament. Lisbeth was the deep thinker. Laura was head strong and outspoken, the feistier of the two.
“How are you and your sister faring?” he asked, his gaze back on Wesley.
“It’s a challenge keeping everyone’s spirits up. At times, I succeed. Other times, I fail miserably. Lisbeth stayed at the keep for a while then left for the hunting lodge to be alone.”
Jamie turned to her. Her drawn ashen face disturbed him.
“The rain has stopped. Would you care to take some fresh air in the garden?” Laura answered by looping her arm through his and drew him out the door. Her warmth chased away the lingering chill from his journey. She’s Richard’s little sister, a warning voice whispered in his head. He took a breath and went on.
“I know you’re skeptical of Lisbeth’s gift, but she told me she saw Richard’s death before Bryce carried him… brought Richard home. Now, she blames herself for not taking action.” Laura sighed heavily. “Everyone blames themselves. Father shouldn’t have let him go, not that he could stop Richard. Mother should have seen this coming, not that she could. And Lisbeth…”
“I understand all too well. I berated myself for not being with him, protecting his back.” They reached the stone porch.
