Threads of Gold (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 6)

by Christine Pope

  “Very well,” I replied, my tone resigned. “Since Darinne is in the drawing room at present, perhaps my father’s study?”

  That seemed safe enough. He wouldn’t be home for several hours, and there was no risk of anyone overhearing us in there.

  Cordell’s dark eyes lit up. “That would be excellent, my lady.”

  I nodded at him and headed on down the hallway, with him a few steps behind. As I went, I couldn’t help wondering what had prompted him to speak to me now. Was it the tense scene at the breakfast table this morning? But really, that hadn’t been so very different from a hundred other similar episodes. Unfortunately, my father and I didn’t need much encouragement to begin sparring with one another.

  Although I had suggested it, something did feel slightly wrong about entering his study with Cordell. Because it was my father’s room, all was neat and orderly — the ledger sitting on top of the desk had been lined up neatly with the inkwell, while a feather pen lay precisely perpendicular to the ledger.

  The curtains were open, probably because Darinne had been dusting in here earlier and needed the light. Outside the window, the oak trees’ golden leaves waved in the breeze. Something about the sight of them made my heart give an odd little lurch. Perhaps it was only that I wished I could be outside and free like those leaves, rather than little more than a prisoner in this stuffy house. It had been so very long since I’d escaped the narrow streets of Bodenskell, the city where I had been born.

  And where you will most likely die, I thought, then wanted to shake my head at myself. What on earth was I doing, thinking about death on a bright autumn day such as this?

  I drew in a breath. “What is it you wished to speak to me about, Cordell?”

  His gaze shifted to the door, almost as if he expected my father to appear there, even though he was a good ten-minute walk away. Yet another reason why it was a good thing for him to visit his office; we did not have a horse or carriage, not anymore, and so he was forced to get a small amount of exercise when going to and from his place of business.

  Then Cordell looked back at me, and I wanted to cringe. That tenderness I had noted was back, his dark eyes seeming to focus on me and nothing else. I had never been the object of such attention before, and I was not sure what I should do about it.

  “My lady,” he said. One hand lifted briefly, as if he wanted to reach out toward me but didn’t quite dare. “I know I must seem very forward, speaking to you like this, but I fear I cannot stay silent any longer.”

  Not knowing what else I should do, I nodded. In a way, it was rather thrilling to have a man gazing at me the way Cordell was now. My father did not allow me out in company, and I had never had any suitors. What his intention was, in keeping me so isolated, I had no idea. Surely with our finances in such ruin, the intelligent thing would have been to find me a rich husband. The mirror told me I was comely enough that such an arrangement might have been possible, if I had been given the opportunity, and yet I was still left severely alone.

  Cordell hesitated then, as if sifting through the words in his mind so he would be assured of choosing the right ones. Then, to my surprise, he seemed to gather himself and took both my hands in his. Something about the way he did so seemed to indicate that he had moved swiftly in order not to lose his nerve.

  His fingers were warm and strong, and not unpleasant, even callused as they were. Somewhere in the back of my mind I thought that perhaps I should be pulling my hands away, but for some reason I did not. Perhaps I was so startled that I didn’t know quite what to do.

  He appeared to take my lack of protest as encouragement, for he moved closer. His gaze flickered over my face, and for the first time I noted that he had quite long lashes, heavy and dark like his hair. Some might say his nose was too long, or his mouth too wide, but he was still attractive enough even so.

  “My lady, I have had some news. My brother has passed away — ”

  “Oh, I am so very sorry,” I broke in, somewhat startled, for this was not the sort of thing I had been expecting him to say. “Do you need to take your leave for a while, to be with your family? We will have to ask for my father’s permission, but — ”

  “No, that is not it.” His hands tightened on mine. “My brother and I were estranged. That is why I have been working here in your household. He seized the part of my father’s inheritance that should have been mine, leaving me with nothing. But now I have had word that he is gone. A fall from his horse, I was told. And so the inheritance has come to me.”

  To my utter shock, Cordell sank to his knees then, gripping my fingers the entire time. “I know this must seem very sudden, my lady, but it was not my place to speak before I could offer you a future that would include the comforts you are used to. The estate is small, but it is mine, and comes with a fine vineyard and a good sturdy house. I would very much like it if you would consider sharing it with me.”

  All I could do was gape at him. Yes, I’d known that he admired me on some level, but it was quite a leap to go from that flicker of interest to an offer of marriage. At least, I assumed that was what he’d just asked of me.

  Best to be sure, I supposed. Voice small, I said, “Cordell, are you asking me to be your wife?”

  He blinked. “Yes — oh, that was stupid of me, wasn’t it? All this time thinking how I would say those words to you, and I couldn’t even ask you properly!”

  His expression of consternation was so intense it might have been comical, under different circumstances. “It’s quite all right,” I said gently.

  “Is it?” His eyes were staring into mine, that same question burning in them.

  For a long moment, I didn’t reply. I could only stand there, feeling his hands on mine and the roughness of the calluses on his fingers, and gaze back down at him. Cordell as my husband? Could my mind even encompass such a thing? I’d certainly never thought of him in such a way. And yet he was certainly not ill-favored. I could do much worse. He was a man of property now, with a home in the country. If I told him I would become his wife, I could escape Bodenskell. I could breathe in fresh air and see the sky, and know that I would never have to suffer my father’s petty tyrannies again.

  But…I did not love Cordell. How could I? He had been a servant in our house, quiet, unobtrusive. I had never thought of him that way. Could I allow myself to open my heart to him? I had spent the last few years closing myself in, not allowing myself to be intimate with anyone. I had no close friends, and my sister was someone I had to watch over, not confide in.

  At the same time, I did not wish to hurt the man who knelt before me. His dark eyes were pleading with me to make the leap, to trust him, and yet I wasn’t sure if I could. Not even if going with him meant I would at last be able to escape my father’s household.

  My lips parted. I had intended to tell him that this was so sudden that I wasn’t sure how to respond, but I was not given that opportunity. Even as I drew breath to reply, I heard my father roar, “What the devil is all this?”

  At once Cordell pulled his hands from mine and scrambled to his feet. “S-sir, it is not what you think — ”

  My father’s impressive bulk filled the doorway. Cordell was of a height with him, but slender. Right then I could not say that my father appeared so much overweight as fully capable of breaking the younger man over his knee.

  Even though my heart raced so quickly that I could feel it beating against my stays, I raised a hand, saying, “Father, truly nothing happened. Cordell was only — ”

  “Only what?” my father snapped. “The two of you alone together, your hair down in a most unseemly fashion…what do you think it looks like you were up to?”

  Somehow I kept myself from reaching up to push my hair back over my shoulders so it would be less conspicuous. “We were up to nothing at all.”

  “It is true, sir,” Cordell added. “That is, I was asking your daughter to be my wife.”

  Far from mollifying him, Cordell’s statement only appeared to
intensify my father’s ire that much more. “You what? What? A servant asking a daughter of this house to be his wife?”

  At the word “servant,” Cordell straightened further. No, I did not love him, but I couldn’t help admiring him in that moment, the way he met my father stare for stare and did not back down. “Reduced circumstances forced me to take a position here, Master Kelsden, but those circumstances have now changed. I have inherited land and a home in the country, and — ”

  “And what?” my father roared. Cordell’s explanation did not seem to have mollified him at all, but rather inflamed him even further. “So you thought you would make my daughter — my daughter, whose beauty surpasses that of all the ladies at court — a farmer’s wife? Insolence!”

  Truly, I had never thought my father paid any particular attention to my looks. I had the notion right then he was exaggerating for effect, but even so, I couldn’t prevent a small flush of pride from passing over me. That came and went quickly, however, replaced by a need to defend Cordell.

  “Indeed?” I broke in, making no effort to keep the skepticism from my tone. “If I truly am such a jewel, why am I so hidden away? If it were not for Cordell’s presence, I doubt I would know what a man even looks like!”

  He reddened slightly at my words, and seemed as if he was about to speak. My father gave him no opportunity, however, saying,

  “You think this a man?” He made a dismissive gesture toward Cordell, then shook his head. “Clearly, you are quite lacking in discernment.” Shifting toward the unfortunate manservant, my father went on, “And you, fool, will have no further chances at her. Pack your things and go from this house.”

  To my surprise, Cordell stood his ground and said calmly, “I had already intended to give my notice and depart, for I must leave this place to go claim my inheritance. But I had not yet had the lady’s reply before you interrupted us.” His gaze moved from my father to me. In that moment I could see the strain in his face, the worry in his eyes, but he spoke in steady tones as he continued, “My lady Annora, what is your will?”

  My will? I stood there, mouth dry as the answer seemed to elude me. Oh, how I wanted to be gone from my father’s house! But that would have meant leaving Iselda behind, and how could I ever abandon her in such a way?

  “Her will is to do as her father wills,” my father said. He appeared calmer now; perhaps my lack of immediate response to Cordell’s question had convinced him that I had no true desire to abandon my family to live with a servant. “Is that not correct, Annora?”

  Somehow I managed to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Your offer honors me, Cordell. But — ”

  “But you would rather stay here with this tyrant than marry me.” The warmth had left his tone, and now he sounded cold, detached, as if that was the only way he could manage the rejection he had just suffered.

  “No, that is not it,” I protested. “I cannot leave my sister — ”

  “I understand,” he said, then bowed slightly, with more grace in the movement than I might have expected. It did seem as if he was more than the servant he had always claimed to be. “May the blessings of the gods be with you, good lady.” Dark eyes shifted to my father, and held. “If I may pass?”

  “Yes, pass,” my father growled. “And be gone from this house.”

  Chin high, Cordell walked past my father, then down the hallway toward the back of the house, where he slept in a small room off the kitchen. For a long moment, quiet reigned in the study. I fancied I could almost hear the thudding of my heart within my breast, although that was most likely only my imagination.

  Then my father gave me a cruel smile. “Really, Annora, could you do no better than that?”

  Something inside me seemed to give way, and I burst out, “Oh, let me be!”, before I pushed past him and ran up the stairs.

  It was a good thing I could have made my way anywhere in the house blindfolded, for in that moment everything before me dissolved into tears, and I stumbled the rest of the way quite without seeing, blinded by my misery.

  I had had one chance for escape, and now it was gone.

  Chapter 2

  Iselda came to me as I sat on my bed and sobbed. Of course I did not see her at first, blinded by my tears as I was, but I felt her thin arms go around me, even as she asked,

  “Were you truly in love with Cordell?”

  I shook my head, then blinked back my tears as best I could. Somewhere in my room was most likely a handkerchief, but in that moment I couldn’t be bothered to go searching for it.

  “No, dearest, I was not, but he was a good man.”

  “And if you had gone with him, you would be safely away.”

  It did not seem right to me, that a girl her age should be saying such things. But Iselda watched and listened and understood. As Darinne had once said, her soul was far older than the body which housed it.

  “How could I be safe, if you were not with me?” I asked, hugging her.

  “Perhaps.” My sister was silent for a moment as she appeared to consider the question. “But perhaps you could have asked Cordell if you could bring me with you.”

  Which was something I had considered. I had just not been given the chance to ask. I shifted on the bed, and Iselda let go of me and scooted away a bit. Her big green eyes were fastened on me, as if waiting for me to answer her.

  I wished I could. Instead, I inquired, “Do you like Cordell?”

  She nodded. “He is kind. He would bring cookies upstairs and leave them outside my door when he knew I was studying and didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  This was not news to me, for I had caught him doing that very thing once or twice. But I was heartened that Iselda had liked Cordell as well, had thought him a good-hearted man. At least that meant my judgment in such matters wasn’t entirely lacking.

  I wiped at my eyes again, and Iselda tilted her head to one side.

  “If you did not love him,” she asked, “then why are you weeping?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied frankly. “I suppose it is the realization that I could have gotten away, that I could have done something to change my life.”

  She was silent again. “It is odd,” she said after a pause. “That is, you are now twenty. I don’t see why Father hasn’t tried to find you a husband. Isn’t that how it is supposed to work?”

  Yes, it was. I should have been betrothed already, to the son of a friend or business acquaintance, or, failing that, a relation distant enough that the health of our children would not be a consideration. Our own parents had been betrothed from a very early age, their match agreed upon by their parents when the two children were both just eight years old. They were from merchant families, and it was thought to be a good match. I sometimes wondered about that, however, for even when I was younger and my mother very much a part of my life, I could tell that she and my father did not get along all that well. His drinking had intensified after she was gone, but he had liked the bottle a little too much long before that.

  Indeed, on some days when relations between my father and myself were even more strained than usual, I would begin to wonder if she had died just so she could get away from him….

  Of course I could never say such a thing to my younger sister. I patted her on the shoulder and got up from the bed, looking at last for a handkerchief, as it seemed clear by then that my nose had no intention of drying up anytime soon.

  “I suppose Father is holding out for some grand match,” I said as I rummaged through the top drawer of my bureau, which held odds and ends such as handkerchiefs and scarves and gloves and fans. A worn cotton handkerchief was at the bottom of one stack, and I plucked it out and used it to blot my nose. By then my eyes, fortunately, were more or less dry. “How he intends to accomplish such a thing, when we have little to provide for a dowry save the gown on my back, I am not sure.”

  My sister raised a skeptical eyebrow. “But you are so very beautiful,” she protested. “Surely that is enough.”


  I wanted to smile at her naïveté, but that would only be mocking her, and I knew she was serious. “That is a lovely compliment, Iselda, and I thank you for it. But it would have to be someone very generous indeed to overlook my regrettable lack of any meaningful wealth.”

  “Cordell didn’t seem to care.”

  No, he did not. He had already come into money and land he had not been expecting, and so wanted nothing from his bride save affection. Or at least that was how his offer had appeared to me.

  “Cordell is not most of the men here in town. His situation was different.”

  She seemed to think that over, then nodded. “It is too bad that Father was so…intractable.” This last word was uttered with some pride; I guessed that she had only recently added it to her vocabulary. Her expression grew somewhat alarmed. “Do you think he will come to scold you?”

  That prospect had worried me at first as well, but it had now been at least a half-hour since I had fled up the stairs. If he had intended to come and remonstrate with me, he would have done so immediately.

  “No,” I replied. “I am sure he thinks he has done well enough in running Cordell off, although he may have regrets in the morning, when we have only Darinne to wait on us.”

  And little joy either of them would have in that situation. I repressed a sigh, realizing I might have to take up a number of Cordell’s former duties. We would hire another manservant in time, I supposed, but that could take a good while, especially considering how little we were able to pay.

  “And besides,” I went on, “Father will be getting ready for Baron Lesender’s dinner, and no doubt will be thinking little of us.”

  “Is he really going to the house of a baron?” Iselda asked, wide-eyed.

  “You were there when he told us of it. That does seem to be his plan for the evening.”