The Lost Lady

by Amelia Brown

  “Eyes forward, boys.” Both lads had turned to acknowledge the lady’s passing and missed a swift attack from the knight acting as the referee for their training. “Keep alert.” He admonished while nodding a greeting to Lady Luveday.

  Luveday was heading for the perfume stores when a call rang out of riders approaching. Men around the courtyard rush to defend and protect the house. Briar’s Gate had changed a good deal since her arrival, as Luveday is ushered back inside the house, Artair running at her side. Luveday can’t help but wonder if her expression mirrored the look of anxiety on the boy’s face.

  As she glanced out of a glass window, her hopes and fears battled within her. The black robes and colorful cloaks attest to the fact that the priest and his would-be lord had finally arrived.

  Chapter 20

  “I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you…”

  ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  Men crowded before the hearth as people moved restlessly in and out of the great room. Luveday sat, not in the great wooden chairs, but with Artair at her side on the cushioned loveseat. They both watched and waited, as the newcomers across from them stared back. Instead of taking the lord’s seat by the fire, the priest, one Father Julian, and the man who resembled Titus Pillar enough to startle even stoic Sir Navarro had sat opposite the Lady and her charge. The silence that had fallen after Luveday’s brief greeting was hard to break.

  Several deep breaths were taken, but no words had come forth from either side. Where to begin, was the main question that kept circling through her mind. Luveday took another breath after Beatrix had left the wine before the men and stepped away. St. James had returned, meeting the group on the road, and escorting them to Briar’s Gate and Luveday was not sure she had ever been happier to see Benedict in her life. He now stood just behind her resting on the back of the bench, and his solid presence reassured, though it didn’t alleviate the stress of the moment.

  “They tell me you are not my wife.” The returned lord said as if needing confirmation.

  Luveday glimpsed the arm that bore the rose birthmark, as he took a drink from the ale with white knuckles. It was strange for her to realize that he was a nervous as she.

  “My Lord,” Navarro began solemnly, but he was cut off.

  “So, you are sure of my identity?” Titus asked with an intent expression. The knight nodded and looked to the rest of the group.

  Luveday watched as Beatrix dabbed moisture from her eyes, but the feel of Artiar’s tightening hold on her right arm brought her attention back to the boy. She was surprised to hear Benedict speak next.

  “I have no doubts.” Luveday looked to him quickly. “I have to say we were not good friends, but I know enough of you to be utterly convinced, you are Titus Pillar.”

  “You knew enough of me in my previous life?” Titus looked thoughtful. “But not well?” St. James nodded again.

  Reeves chimed in, “I am convinced as well.”

  “And you, Lady Luveday?” Pillar asked.

  Luveday had known that question would be coming soon. “I am sorry to say that we have never met before this moment. Thus I cannot say aye, but if they are convinced with only setting eyes on you, I must agree. You are Lord Titus Pillar of Briar’s Gate.”

  “You say you are not my wife, but that is my son?” He asked, looking at the boy who was now doing his best to wiggle behind Luveday and out of sight.

  She couldn’t bring herself to reprimand the boy but leaned forward a bit to make it more comfortable for both of them. “That is right My Lord. This is Artair.”

  “And yet many know that Titus Pillar had no heir.” The man spoke of himself in a third person.

  Luveday and several others straightened at his words, but Luveday realized they were not meant as an attack, merely a statement of fact. “It seems that both lord and heir have returned from the grave,” Luveday replied. Pillar gave her a quizzical look, Luveday could swear she saw the wheels turning behind his gaze.

  “A coincidence?” He asked, and Luveday felt that her answer held more weight than it should.

  “Justice, long overdue.” He nodded at her words and seemed to settle.

  The lady could not know how much his stomach turned at this meeting. She sat, lovely as her name implied, and held court in this grand house while his life hung in the balance. They called him by another man’s name, one that sat a little too comfortably on his shoulders like an old cloak, but he still thought of himself as Anon, the man without a home, a family, or a name. They called him Anon as a short form of Anorian, for his accent gave him away, though his command of foreign languages, languages he couldn’t remember learning, was superb.

  How long had he searched trying to find more than a hint of his past? He had never come close to revealing the truth, knowing only that a ship of unsavory characters had dumped his bleeding corpse on the docks of a city in Canthus and never looked back. The fact that the mark on his arm had held all the answers to his secrets was not surprising to him, on the other hand, the fact that glimpses of this place were more than familiar, was astonishing.

  Everything about him cautioned him to be patient, lest he be disappointed, but to be so readily recognized and accepted was beyond belief. It seemed too good to be true after years of living by the sword.

  Sir Reeve and Sir Navarro ushered him out of the great hall, as they proposed to walk him about the lands; his lands, his hall, his home.

  “Long overdue.” She had said.

  And it rang in his head, even as these men he could not remember, his men, began to pump him for answers he didn’t have. “Justice, long overdue.”

  Father Julian looked on her with wonder, a small smile peeking at the corner of his mouth. He was middle-aged, and more than a little handsome despite the severity of his robes. There was something kind and very focused in his gray eyes, while his sable hair was rich, thick and showed not a hint of his age. “That went well. Indeed, better than expected, My Lady.”

  “Did you think you might be disappointed, that we would turn him out?” Luveday asked, turning from watching the men exit the hall.

  Benedict moved to take a seat, surprising everyone and taking the spot just vacated beside the priest. He angled his body to see the man beside him and Luveday across the low table between them. The boy, Artair, still hid behind the lady, making the Lord smile at them both. “I must admit, meeting him on the road, I thought I was seeing a ghost.” Benedict confided.

  Luveday nodded, as the priest looked them over.

  “What plans do you have, Lady Luveday?” Father Julian startled them all by getting down to business.

  “Truthfully, it is hard to say.” She hedged, as she didn’t have any set course of action. So much had depended on this first meeting. The way forward was complicated, and she needed to act with caution.

  Benedict cut in, no doubt trying to firm up her position in the household. “The King has given the lady control of Briar’s Gate.” He floundered, realizing for the first time everything that had changed. “At least until Titus’s title is restored. He was declared dead three years after he went missing.” Looking at Luveday, he suddenly realized they had not had that talk yet. They had discussed much since learning Lord Pillar might still live, but not what would happen to her if he regained his lands and titles. Benedict could admit to himself that he has not taken the news of Pillar’s return seriously and had only speculated as the rest had done. As their eyes locked, he knew that she had been thinking over the matter a great deal. How he wished he knew what went on in her head. How much had she worried about the future? Once again, the road before her was shifting. Would it ever be this way for her?

  Luveday sat forward, Artair standing behind her and wrapping his thin arms around her neck. She padded the arms gently, and Benedict felt the gesture like a blow. Luveday, with a child of her own, was a sight he almost longed for. While Benedict could admit that he loved the lady, he was not in love with her.
He would save her any hardship, but he could never give her the love she deserved. He thought only Iain could do that, and the daft man had made a royal mess of it. He still hesitated to bring up his blood brother’s name, knowing that the memories still hurt the woman, but there was much she needed to know; much had changed, yet he still waited.

  “I was given guardianship of Artair and these lands until he is old enough to care for them himself. I suppose there is no reason we cannot teach father and son together.”

  “Teach?” The priest asked surprise clear on his face.

  Benedict laughed. “She is teaching him to read and write and manage sums.” Artair nodded and smiled as if confirming their talk but didn’t interrupt.

  “Languages and knightly skills are taught by others,” Luveday supplied, “but what I was refereeing to is the working of the land and the making of perfume.”

  “And why would Lord Titus need to know such things?” The holy man was not condescending, merely curious.

  Benedict only smiled as the man looked at him. Luveday continued, “The land produces the usual crops to supply the house and people, but the main product is the production of lotions and perfumes. They fill the coffers more than any other trade.” The priest looked stumped. “The goods are highly sought after, even in court, and some are taken overseas.” This news seemed to impress him. “It was Lady Claudia that oversaw everything to do with the perfumes, and it will have to be taught to Lord Titus and Artair, so that they will be able to do the same.” Luveday looked to Benedict. “If they wish to pass that knowledge over to their wives or daughters, then they will be fully able to do so.”

  Father Julian nodded in understanding. “So, you are saying; it is not entirely a woman’s domain.”

  “Exactly,” Luveday exclaimed. “To be ignorant about the workings of such an enterprise would be foolish.” She looked to Artair as he finally stepped out from behind her and settled down. “A lord would not be ignorant of the business of wool, or cattle. With the money and complexity of the process, it is unwise to leave it to others, just because it is thought to be a woman’s domain.”

  Beatrix returned from wherever she had disappeared to, and whispered something in Luveday’s ear, smiling apologetically at the priest. Luveday nodded. “Artair, would you go with Beatrix. Gemma needs your help again.” The boy eagerly excused himself and ran off, Beatrix chuckling behind him.

  “The heir doesn’t usually help servants.” Father Julian stated.

  Benedict laughed softly. “Lady Luveday has found a way for the workers to teach Artair the workings of perfume making by having him help them.”

  “Artair’s upbringing thus far has been… well…”

  “I am aware of some of the details lady.” The priest nodded for her to continue and from the look in his eyes his companions thought he was probably aware of more than either of them knew.

  “Well… yes, then. I have found that Artair learns things better from certain people. He has a great fondness for Gemma and is willing to sit and help her for several hours if need be.”

  “That is impressive for a boy of his years.” The kind smile the priest gave, was settling to Luveday’s chaotic mind.

  “Indeed,” Benedict laughed again. “I don’t think I sat still for a whole chime when I was his age.”

  “Nor I.” Father Julian admitted. “So,” he got back to the point, “you will except him?”

  They both knew he was no longer talking about the boy. “Aye and try to help him take charge of his lands. Perhaps being here will bring back some of his memories.”

  The Priest looked skeptical. “Do you truly believe that is possible after so long?”

  Benedict looked to her. “As a healer…”

  Luveday’s gaze turned inward and her brow furrowed. “I have heard tales but have never met someone who has lost their memory so completely. I believe anything is possible.”

  “Tales?” The priest asked. “I have heard of your healing skills, the tale of your service to the crown has spread far and wide.”

  Luveday blushed and looked uncomfortably to Benedict for assistance. He smiled at her and tried averting Father Julian’s penetrating gaze. “No doubt the story has grown with each retelling.” He laughed. “Luveday is a skilled healer to be sure, but to hear the stories she routed Sterling single-handedly.”

  “It was not only the battle in the north I was speaking of but of the prince’s illness as well.” He looked at her. “You have saved two princes, no other woman in the kingdom can claim that.”

  Luveday laugh. “Believe me, it was a distinction I could forgo, but I was doing my best to help others, not thinking of the tales that would be sung about me.”

  “I don’t believe they do you justice.” The holy man said thoughtfully.

  Luveday tried changing the topic and succeeded in turning the jovial mood sour. “Yes, well, don’t believe everything you hear. And speaking of carrying tales, when do you believe we should head to court?” Scowls crossed the men’s brows, and Luveday almost wished she had let them tease her a bit longer.

  Later that evening, the quartet of Father Julian, Lord Titus, Lord Benedict and Lady Luveday had gone to the study to speak in private and to make plans. “Why the delay?” Titus asked, more curious than concerned when he heard they would not be traveling to court for a few days.

  “Resting here is hardly a delay.” The priest offered. “And the lady believes that familiar surroundings will help your memory.”

  “I have heard of you healing skills lady.” He looked at her hopefully. “Do you think there is a chance…?” His voice caught.

  “There is always hope, My Lord.” She smiled at him gently. “As you were so far from home, it is not entirely surprising that nothing seemed familiar to you.” She handed him a mug of hot tea, happy to share her evening pot with him as the other men sipped a fine vintage. “On the other hand, I don’t wish to give you false hope. It has been several years, and there is a real possibility that your memories will never return.”

  Benedict sat forward, his easy manner turning serious. “Is there nothing you can do, Luveday?”

  The other men in the room exchanged glances, noting the familiarity between the two.

  “I am afraid not. The mind is a strange and wonderful thing.” She looked at Titus speculatively, but he didn’t seem to mind. “The best course of action is to recreate some of your daily routine as Lord of the manor.”

  “His what?” The priest asked.

  “Routine?” Benedict scoffed at the same time.

  “Yes,” Luveday asked. “Some of the knights mentioned that you would do several different tasks almost daily. If we can recreate your day, as it was, before you lost your memories then perhaps the actions will bring to light other familiar things.”

  Titus nodded slowly, clearly in thought then offered, “Some things about this place are very familiar already.” The other men looked at him with hope.

  “That’s wonderful, isn’t it My Lady?” Benedict asked while Father Julian chided his friend, “You didn’t say anything, Anon… sorry, Titus.”

  “It’s fine.” He didn’t mind the priest’s slip, even he still had trouble thinking of himself as Pillar and looked to the woman.

  “Yes, that is good news. I would be troubled if nothing seemed familiar to you.” She looked into the fire for a moment and nodded to herself before turning her attention back to the men. “It’s best if we not try to push you to remember, but let things progress naturally. I suggest we send a messenger to court with the tidings of your return, but as for a bit of leniency before going before the King. We can start with you getting to know the land again,” she looked Titus in the eyes, and captured his full attention, “Spend part of the morning touring the lands, or working with the knights.” He nodded. “I have heard you did that often. The afternoons can be spent working in the perfume storehouse and getting to know the people. I will talk to them before we begin.”

  “You wan
t them to treat me like before?” He asked.

  “No,’ She answered surprising them all. “I want you to get to know them, and to learn everything, every step, every concern, every measurement, and detail of the process, and that means working beside them, and sometimes following their lead.” Brows furrowed. “The relationship between Lord and peasant is not one conducive to this process, but I still wish for them to know who their Lord is. You will gain some of their respect by working beside them, while others might try to take advantage.” Now there was understand. “I merely wish to make sure a balance can be made.”

  “It sounds easy enough,” he leaned back in his chair. “Where do we begin?”

  “At the beginning of course.” Luveday laughed at their confused expression but would not answer further as she was called away to take care of the night’s chores so that the house could find it’s rest.

  “The beginning indeed,” Titus muttered as he and Father Julian looked over the fields the next morning. Mist floated over the ground in soft wisps as the sun began its climb, not yet cresting the trees in the distance. After a stout but simple breakfast that mirrored the dinner of the night before, men and beasts began their tour of the lands surrounding Briar’s Gate. At first, it all looked so mundane; crops filled plots of land like any other across the kingdom as they journeyed back towards the main road. But as the group cut across empty fields or over paths on the circumference of his lands the landscape began to change. As they came around to the east, suddenly vistas of color arose. A garden of flowers stretched out before him; this was no lady’s bower, cultivated to appeal to the eye, but flowers growing in profusion on trellises like a giant maze that stood before him, covered in leafy vines. The occasional salty breeze was countered by sweet aromas of mint, jasmine, and honeysuckle.