Lily called for her dressmakers. Half an hour later, she knew all the background for the letter (maybe not everything, but plenty about the king).
The king had married, and then he had fallen in love. The only trouble was that his wife and his beloved were two different women. His beloved was Jessamine Earton, known as Jessie. Her mother strongly disapproved.
I wonder why? Isn’t it considered an honor to be the prince’s mistress? Or does that only work if it’s the king?
Lily vaguely remembered watching some telenovelas where it was an honor – people fell to their knees in the presence of the king’s latest mistress.
But maybe that’s not the case here. Or at least it wasn’t back then. So the mother was upset when her daughter went to bed with the prince without marrying him first. She may have wanted to marry her off to someone else for political reasons. Jessie could have been promised to someone else.
Lily didn’t know what exactly had enraged Jyce and Jessie’s mother, and she decided it didn’t really matter. Things didn’t even change when Jessie became Edward’s second queen. Lily became convinced of this as she read through the letters.
Jyce frequently asked his mother to forgive Jessie and told her little stories about her grandchildren. There were even a few letters from Jessie herself, all saying much the same thing: “Dear Mother, forgive me, but I will die without him. This is Aldonai’s will, etc.”
Both Jyce and Jessie keep asking their mother to forgive and forget. That means either she never answered their letters, or she kept rejecting her daughter. Apparently, the old woman lived here in Earton.
The earl wrote about once a month, and Jessie did the same.
What does that tell me? The mother was sitting out here like a bullfrog in a swamp. The old earl was dead. Jyce stayed away because he knew his mother would give him an earful if he showed up at home.
Lily didn’t find any replies from the old countess – or even any drafts she might have written – so she assumed that the old lady was stubborn to the end. She was glad that Etor hadn’t risked reusing the valuable parchment the letters were written on. Reading them, she learned about the birth of the queen’s daughters and about the queen’s death. It was interesting work, making out the fancy handwriting and the flowery expressions.
This is nothing. Doctors’ handwriting is a lot harder to make out. Haven’t you ever seen a patient history or a prescription?
It was one thing to read the letters and quite another to lay out the events by year and analyze what it all meant. In the end, Lily worked out that the old countess outlived her son and died not that long ago. The most recent letters were written to her by her grandson.
Lily read those letters especially closely. It looked to her like Jess’ grandmother was none too fond of her grandchildren, even the ones on her son’s side.
She would have ignored her daughter’s children, of course, but why her son’s children? He loved her and did his best to care for her, so she ought to have adored his children. From these letters, it looks like he never once brought them here to see their grandmother. I wonder why? Jess Earton never even saw his family’s castle until after his grandmother’s death. That’s ridiculous.
Lily thought about the castle’s library. It was full of holy books.
The old lady was religious to a fault. It wouldn’t have been easy to steal from her, would it? I guess that would depend on how you did it. If she spent all her time praying, the servants could have stolen everything that wasn’t nailed down (and if it was nailed down, they stole the nails, too).
Lily bit her lip. If that was how things stood, it was no wonder that Earton was ignored by its master. He grew up in the city and was close to the royal family, so he paid his estate taxes and never gave the place another thought.
Olaf knocked at the door. When he came in, he unloaded several notebooks and scrolls on Lily’s bed.
“Where is Emma?”
“In the kitchen. There was a row.”
“I can’t even be sick for one day. Tell her to come to me as soon as she’s free,” Lily grumbled.
I wonder what the row was about?
Then she turned back to the letters.
His Majesty Edward the Eighth read the letter. He read it again. Then he scratched his head. It was not a very royal thing to do, but no one saw him do it. The letter had come by carrier pigeon. It was an astonishing missive because it made no sense.
The letter was from the mayor of Altver, Torius Avermal. The king had appointed him to oversee Altver years ago, and the man had never given cause for displeasure.
“Your Majesty! I assure you of my respect…”
Out of habit, Edward skipped over the words of praise. In his more ironic moments, Edward was glad that the very nature of the carrier pigeon system restricted the length of letters. Nobody wanted to pay to send a three-bird letter.
“I hasten to inform you that Countess Lilian Earton has been to Altver and has now left to return to Earton. The countess was a ray of sunshine during her stay in our provincial town, lighting up…”
There were five more lines describing the countess’ excellent qualities.
For goodness sake! Does he think we’re in the Khanganate?
The countess was intelligent and beautiful, a wonderful, wise woman who brought true joy to everyone in Altver.
Edward didn’t know what to make of it. He remembered Lilian. She was an oddity, a heavy-set girl given to throwing temper tantrums well beyond the age for such behavior. He had instantly taken a dislike to her when he saw her years ago.
Has Baron Avermal lost his mind? Or was I unjust in my opinion of her all those years ago?
He reflected that Jess married Lilian to get his hands on her father’s boatyards, so it would be naïve to expect him to actually love the girl. What if she really was intelligent. And maybe even beautiful?
Edward shook his head. It didn’t make sense. After Amalia’s visit, he had written to Baron Avermal by carrier pigeon and asked him to find out what he could about the countess. It seemed like a sensible step. Miranda was at the castle, so if Lilian was behaving strangely Edward wanted to know about it.
The king didn’t exactly adore his granddaughter, but in some ways she reminded him of Jessie. She had the same dark hair, eyes and lips, but she was moody and difficult.
I haven’t been able to spend much time with the child. I can’t exactly have her brought here to the palace in secret. People will find out. There would be gossip.
That wasn’t the only reason. The king had never been good with children unless their nannies and governesses were around. But still, he often thought about the child. He knew she was in Earton, and that the estate was more or less in order. Jess received regular reports from his manager. Lilian probably left the child to her nannies. Why wouldn’t she?
But what if Lilian is not in her right mind? Amalia says she drove out the medicus who used to treat her, and that she’s doing all sorts of odd things. Is it dangerous for Miranda to be living there?
Edward had been hoping for reassurance, but the letter did not reassure him. He couldn’t decide what to think.
Strange people are dangerous.
He rubbed his forehead and picked up a pen. He would write back to Avermal and ask for specifics on Lilian’s activities. Who was she with? What did she do? Why did the baron find her to be so intelligent? And, just to be on the safe side, he would clarify that he was speaking about a blonde, overweight woman. His first letter had been too general. This one would be very specific. He would instruct Torius to send a runner or an agent to Earton to obtain a detailed picture of life on the estate and on the condition of Miranda Catherine.
Something odd was going on in Earton, but he wouldn’t make a move until he was sure he understood the situation. In his many years as king, Edward had learned the value of a simple truth: decisions made without complete information are often wrong. True, there were times when one had to act immediately, but this did not seem to be
one of them. No matter what Lilian was up to, Miranda had her guards, tutors and nannies to protect her. There was also Jess’ agent. And the pastor.
No, I won’t act right away. I’ll wait and see what Torius tells me.
The row was largely Lily’s fault. She had planned it out, but she hadn’t known it would blow up so quickly. Lady Miranda’s nannies got into a spat in the kitchen. Calma was to blame. Upset by her new position under Martha, she had gone down to the kitchen to tell the servants everything she thought about the evil countess.
To their credit, the servants and even the peasant women who were present ignored Calma’s bile. The way they saw it, the countess wasn’t that bad at all. She paid them for extra work, even though she could have forced them to do it for nothing; she had freed them from forced labor in the earl’s fields; she let them use the mill to grind their grain; and the only person she had ordered a whipping for was a lazy stable hand. They knew that life could be a lot worse.
Mary stuck up for the countess, as well. She had expected to be driven out of the castle along with Etor because she was a known flirt. Instead, the countess sometimes gave her a penny or a scrap of fabric.
Emma was not around, and Calma got angrier as she listened to the others sing Lily’s praises.
“That countess of yours! I think she’s a shilda! No normal woman would ever behave like she does! She has brought a bunch of pagans into her house. They guard her bedroom door at night. Only Aldonai knows what she does in there…”
Just then, Martha walked into the kitchen. She heard Calma’s last words and immediately boiled over. “You shameless hussy! How can you dare wag your ugly tongue about my precious Lily?”
Calma plunged ahead without losing any steam. “Can’t you see what your Lily is up to? She’s turned the whole castle upside down!”
Martha sometimes felt the same way, but she thought that a person who had almost died had a right to behave strangely. The poor woman had suffered a miscarriage and an attempted murder. What did people expect? And they were talking about her little Lily, the girl she had put back to sleep at night and fed with a tiny spoon.
“What business is it of yours, you snake in the grass!” Martha shouted. “You don’t even know where Lady Miranda is half the time and here you are finding fault with the countess! Why don’t you tell everyone how she called you down for neglect? That would be more like the truth!”
“My charge is always well looked after and well dressed!”
“She almost got herself murdered and you wouldn’t have known about it. Keep your eyes on your own girl and leave Lily alone!”
Calma shut her mouth at that, but not for long. “That was an accident. He was there to kill the countess. Decent people don’t have murderers prowling around in their bedrooms!”
Martha had a quick reply to that. “It was because of her husband! He’s got a mistress who wants to take Lily’s place. My poor lady…”
“Poor lady nothing! The whole castle is upside down because of her.”
“That’s none of your business. Follow orders and keep your mouth shut. We aren’t pigs and we don’t want to live like them.”
Most of the people sitting in the kitchen didn’t care that much about dirt, but they agreed with Martha wholeheartedly about one thing: they were not pigs. She was applauded and encouraged.
Calma was furious. “That woman’s insane! She takes a bath every day and she chases after men! You mark my words – she’s a shilda. I know it!”
Martha grabbed Calma by the hair. Just as the other servants were trying to separate them, Emma walked in.
“What’s going on in here?”
She listened to both sides of the story and frowned. Calma was sent to clean out the outhouses for speaking evil of the countess. Martha was sent to see the healer. Calma was the younger and stronger of the two, and she had pulled out a chunk of the old woman’s hair and landed a couple of hard punches that were bruising. Emma went to find the countess. Lily would know what to do.
Lily was glad to see her housekeeper because she had a number of things she wanted to find out from her. The questions had to wait, however, while she listened to Emma’s account of the fight. She approved the punishment her housekeeper had meted out to Calma and extended it for another ten days.
That’s what she gets for wagging her tongue. Back in the day, they used to cut off a guilty person’s tongue – along with their head! I couldn’t do that. At least I don’t think I could.
She reflected that when your life is in the balance, though, most people are capable of quite a lot.
I’ll release a piece of gossip of my own. That’s the right way to deal with this.
She made a solemn face. “What can I say? Aldonai instructs us to forgive our enemies. I understand that Calma does not want to take orders from Martha. However, I believe my nanny did a fine job of raising me and she’ll do an equally fine job of raising Miranda. On her own, Calma is useless. The child is always running around filthy or throwing tantrums. And the other night, she left her room without Calma knowing about it and almost fell into the hands of a hired killer. I just don’t know what to say about that.”
“She’s surely beyond all patience, my lady.” Emma also drew a solemn face. She was already planning what she would tell the servants in the kitchen.
Lily grimaced and went on. “She’s only human, and all of us are given to temptations like gossiping and sloth.
“I’ll cure her of the sin of sloth quickly enough,” Emma promised. The two women exchanged glances. They were in complete understanding. If word got around that Lily was a shilda, then all of her efforts would be seen as the works of Maldonaya. Rumors were hard to put down. They couldn’t allow it.
When people are in the habit of seeing the devil’s work, they’ll find it wherever they turn. And if that devil happens to be a woman, then woe on her. I have to keep the pastor close to me so I can see what he’s up to. The same goes for the Virmans.
What should I do about the villagers? I think my best option is to have people feel sorry for me. “The poor countess lost her baby and it did something to her. Now she is worried about other people’s children going hungry.” That’s a good starting point. I also need people to keep talking about how the countess gives nice handouts to all the people who work for her. The only question is how to get these rumors started. I suppose I’ll have to ask Emma to do it for me.
She wiped her eyes with the corner of her blanket. “Oh Emma, how could she say such awful things about me? A shilda wouldn’t spend her own money building a church, would she? There’s nothing strange about my eyes, and I have no interest in men. None of them could equal my husband. You know what? I’d like to have the pastor come pray with me for my husband’s safety and happiness.”
Emma nodded.
“And about the Virmans. You know that Etor was selling girls to the slave traders, don’t you?”
“We all knew about that, my lady.”
“Eventually they’ll be back. If it comes to a fight, how many of our young men would die? The Virmans are professional warriors. I hired them to protect my people. I didn’t know his lordship would be sending soldiers.
Emma nodded again. She was considering how best to present this information.
“I suppose Calma doesn’t understand that the Virmans will be protecting her. Does she want to be sold into slavery? Or does she think that once the slave traders catch sight of her they’ll run away in terror? I doubt it.
Emma doubted it, too.
“And another thing, Emma. We never talked about how much I should pay you. How much did your husband receive?”
“Two silver coins a month, my lady.”
“You’ll get four.” She paused. “I know how to treat people who serve me well and do their jobs.”
Emma nodded again, but said nothing. For an instant, Lily wondered if she was Etor’s accomplice.
Even if she was, I can’t sack her. She’d just go home to the vi
llage and tell tales about me. And I doubt that Etor would have wanted to work with her. It’s that same mental inertia: he wouldn’t have seen a woman as a worthy partner in crime. It won’t hurt to check up on her, though. I’ll look through all the papers they found in Etor’s hiding places, and I’ll have the Virmans sound out the walls and the floors tomorrow. Maybe they’ll find more.
“That will be all,” she told Emma. The housekeeper went to find the pastor and send him to Lily, who continued to think about ways she could get her message out to people.
I know! I’ll talk about it to Mirrie in front of the dressmakers. I need my story to get out in different formats and in different places. That will give it legs.
August Broklend – the honorable August, non-hereditary baron in the second generation, to be precise – was busy. He was reading a letter from his son-in-law. According to the letter, all was quiet in Earton. Lily was expecting a baby (Aldonai willing, it would be a boy). The king was thinking about making some changes to his ships to increase their speed, and Jess expected to get the job for August’s boatyards. One of his business partners had just brought in a valuable cargo of spices, which would make them even richer once sold.
August made a note to himself to buy something nice for Lily. His love for his daughter was tender and sincere. She was his only family in the world. August’s wife had died when Lily was just a year old, and he had decided not to remarry. His plan had been to leave his worldly wealth to his daughter so that she could hire someone to manage it and live a life of ease.
That was before he bought the boatyards and realized that he had a talent for the business. August had a keen eye for ships and was a good manager. He knew what man to put on what job. He could tell at a glance who was an expert carpenter and who was a braggart. He knew wood and tools inside and out.
August didn’t know where his talent came from. He had started out buying and selling ships, and then he bought an old boatyard. The business took off so fast that he could barely keep up. Soon August had a reputation that went far and wide. Men came to him for repairs because he could read a boat like a book.
The Clearing (Medieval Tale Book 2) Page 12
