The Lost Lady

by Amelia Brown

  “What suggestions? What potions?” Iain asked somewhere between confusion and ire.

  “I learned a lot while I was on the coast.” She started and turned in his lap until she was sideways and able to see him clearly. The sun was up but only their nearness kept them warm from the castle’s chill. “I learned about perfume and lotion making.” The furrow in his brow was charming instead of irritating. “I tried to mix some healing plants into the mix, to help with ailments as well as beauty.”

  The frown dissolved. “You were trying to make some of those god-awful potions more palatable?” He asked.

  “They weren’t to drink, but yes. I was trying to soften the harsher mixtures to make them more pleasant to use, and with some success.” She confided.

  He nodded as if he expected nothing less from her. “How much coin do you think it might yield?” It was not a mercenary question, but a curious one.

  “If it goes as well as I had hoped, next spring might produce, if we get the usual, king’s portion, with the yield I had planned.” She did some quick math. “Around 20 silver coins, maybe more.”

  Iain coughed. “Twenty silver coins, what will be your portion, three?”

  She smiled, “No, that is my portion.” He looked at her. “The perfumes and lotions are the best the House of Pillar offers, and if they plant the three fields along with my healing plants they should get somewhere near 150 bottles of finished product. At 25 coppers a bottle,” he nearly choked, “the end result would be equal to…say… 130 silvers.”

  “From Four fields of flowers?” He asked incredulous.

  “From flowers, and oils, and herbs and spices. Beauty is not cheap, my husband.” She mockingly scolded.

  He kissed her hard. “Seeing yours every day is worth any price.” She couldn’t laugh at such a charming sentiment, even though he grinned wickedly at her.

  “There is more.” She waved the letter hoping to distract him, it almost worked. There was a few more moments of kisses before their attention returned to the Royal missive. “And last, for the wedding gift in honor of the union between our Champion and Healer, we give the lands and titles of the house of Landers, where upon the loss of that line, all property and heraldry will be bestowed upon Lady Luveday and her children.”

  “The Lander’s.” Iain whispered.

  “Catherine and Sir Chadric?” She asked not understanding.

  “Aye.” He had to clear his throat. “Though the manor is all but falling down the wood, the pasture land beyond and the lake beyond that all belong to the Lander’s line, a gift from Edward’s Father when Sir Chadric was a young knight.”

  Luveday looked at the paper once again feeling the sorrow of their loss. “There is no one to carry on the line.” She said.

  “Nay, Luve.” He said. “And my father did not help when he bought the land and unfinished keep. The shift left the village to decide who to support and they felt the Lander’s to themselves.”

  “So close, and yet so far away.” She said.

  “Aye, Luve,” he wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “No need to cry, Luveday. What’s done is done, and we will remember them well.”

  “Aye, that we will.” She said and smiled at him.

  “What do you think of your gifts?” He asked, knowing she was not impressed with the wealth she had been handed, though she had earned much of it.

  “To tell the truth…” She paused and shifted until she straddled him and could look him in the face, with her legs pressed into the side of the chair. She didn’t look him in the eye but ran her right hand over his collar bone.

  “Aye, the truth, Luve.” He countered wondering what she was thinking. When her face turned up to his, her blue gray eyes shone bright.

  “Truthfully,” Moved to kiss him, and then pulled back, “Truthfully the only thing I wanted was you.”

  The letter was forgot as Iain took his wife back to bed, despite the sun rising, they didn’t leave it for many hours yet. Eventually they found some rest.

  Epilogue

  “If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange, And be all to me?”

  ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  Luveday walked through the orchard of Lander’s Keep, looking over the buds of spring. She and Iain had been married in the late summer, not very long after his proposal. She had returned to her home to fanfare and tears, but she had never felt better in her life, except maybe when Iain kissed her after Father Julian had pronounced them man and wife.

  It had come as a shock to her, though perhaps it shouldn’t have, that King Edward and Queen Augusta had bestowed upon her the house of Lander’s and the surrounding forest making whole the lands once again. Sir Chadric had been elated at the news and had enjoyed the wedding feast. He had died in his sleep several weeks later, and Luveday had moved Catherine into the keep. She had died sitting in the Lady’s garden as the first buds of spring opened. Luveday had left the house, letting Paige keep whatever she wished from the manor. They moved the garden first, then what furnishings could be salvaged. Luveday had plans to demolish the house, little by little moving the wood paneling into the keep, making the two dwellings one.

  Between her plans for the castle and her time at the Healing Rooms in Kingston, her days were full up. She was moving mountain to whip the Healing guilds into shape, and when she was done, something very like the modern system of medicine would exist throughout Anora, even if it took her lifetime to accomplish it.

  Today she walked for the peace though she wasn’t alone in the wood. Warren flanked her as he usually did when they were out but kept his distance as Luveday had wanted to be alone. The letter rested under her breast, tucked inside the high girdle she wouldn’t be able to wear for much longer. She was sure now, not only of her place here and her love for De Lane but that a new life would be joining theirs in a few months.

  The letter was long and thick, several pieces of her notebook concealed with a heave bit of vellum. It was addressed to her parents, and many would call it an expensive waste of paper, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from writing it. Luveday had told her family as concisely as she could everything that had happened from the day she disappeared until the moment her pen touched paper. Iain had seen her writing and wondered where she had gotten such strange items but had left her alone and she was grateful. One day she might tell him the truth, but she still didn’t know if she ever would.

  All the love she felt was wrapped in those pages, but she didn’t know what to do with them. The writing had started as a cathartic exercise when she realized that a baby was on the way, more would probably follow, and her family would never see any of them. She couldn’t leave the letter lying around. She had no one to send it too, and while the idea of burning it had crossed her mind, every time she had attempted to toss it into the fire she had frozen then turned and put it away again. Today she thought she might bury it or toss it in the stream or well or somewhere where it couldn’t be retrieved and possibly used against her.

  So, she walked the orchard, deep enough now that no sign of the castle could be seen, and only rarely losing sight of her shadow. The leaves where green and the light shone just so that it reminded her of something, but she couldn’t say what. Her left hand rested on a low limb that was almost parallel with her shoulder, and her right hand came to cover her belly and the letter and baby there. She heard Warren’s voice and took a step forward, and the world shifted.

  One moment she was in the orchards of Lander’s Keep, the next she was in the backyard of her parent’s house. The large picture window was open before her; the back door was open wide so that fresh air and spring sunshine highlighted the tubule inside. Her mother and father were gathered around the dining table, her sister, brother-in-law, and nieces sat around talking adamantly while having a late Sunday brunch. Tears formed in her eyes, but she didn’t cry. Luveday didn’t know if she wanted to cry for them, or for herself. Was she truly back? She looked down. The gown was still the one she had put on that morn
ing, her cloak rested on her shoulders, keeping off the spring chill. Everything was as it was, just like the moment she had stepped from this world into a new one, but looking at the picture before her, Luveday knew this wasn’t her home anymore. She retreated, pray that like the last time, that retracing her steps would somehow return her home. Unlike those years ago, as she turned away, she heard it, as if from a distance, voices calling her name, not her family, but Warren and another drawing closer. Luveday wanted to cry out, but she was not yet in that world again, and fear that she might draw her family’s attention kept her silent. Breathing deeply to calm her racing heart Luveday covered her rolling stomach and once again felt the familiar edges of the letter. She knew, with a sudden undeniable clarify that this was her chance, this was what the longings for home had been preparing her for. Taking the letter, she looked back at the window unnoticed. She looked at the fruit trees around her and got an idea. Hastily she pulled the ribbon tying back her hair and tried to tie the letter to a branch, but it didn’t work. The voices calling her grew louder while she fought to keep down her rising panic, reminding herself that it wasn’t good for the baby.

  The sun glinted off the broach Iain had given her. The gems were semiprecious stones, but the large clasp was just what she needed. She unfastened the cloak and used the broach to skewer the letter and pin the two ends of the ribbon together before closing it. Stepping away, she hugged the cloak around her and watched her missive dangle from the tree branch.

  A heartbeat later she stumbled into Iain’s arms, his frantic cry cut short as he held her close as she cried.

  “Luveday,” he chanted over and over again. Warren was waved off as he held her close, the other men mumbled but disappeared assured that the lady was found. “Luveday,” he finally got her attention. “Where were you?” He asked raggedly, and Luveday looked into his eyes and saw a starkness there she hadn’t seen before. She couldn’t answer. “You appeared…” he tried again. “You appeared out of thin air.” He held her close again. “I rounded the tree and saw a shadow of the corner of my eye. You were gone, then there but like a ghost. I could see through you.” He swallowed hard and separated them to cup her face. “Then you stumbled into my arms and you were real.” He kissed her hard. “Creator above, what happened to you?” His voice shook, but he looked at her needing to know.

  “Let us go back inside, Iain. And I’ll tell you everything. It’s a long story, and some things are unbelievable, but it true.” She held on to him. “It’s all true.” They left the orchard and didn’t stop until they were in their solar. Luveday asked that they not be disturbed and sat before the fire in Iain’s lap as she recounted her life in another world.

  Terry Bennett glanced out the oversized picture window catching movement in the orchard. Looking closer, she spotted something hanging in a tree branch. “George, did you finally get that tape to put up in the orchard?” She laughed at her husband of thirty years, thinking only one thing would make her life complete as she looked over at her family, eyes resting on her eldest daughter. Their eyes met, and each knew that the other was thinking of the empty chair at the table. Luveday had gone missing almost three years ago. The local police and federal agencies had done all they could, but no one knew what had happened to their daughter. The family had nearly been torn apart by her loss, but they had come together even stronger, finally realizing how much it mattered, and how much she had mattered to them.

  “No, Honey, I still need to go to Home Depot. I was planning to go this afternoon.” He tried placating her, not wanting to hear about the tape one more time.

  “Then what is hanging in the orchard?” She asked putout. All the heads turned to see the sun glinting off something in their small grove of trees they referred to as an orchard.

  George looked stumped and ran a hand through his graying hair. “Was that you Annalisa?”

  “No, Dad. You know we don’t use plastics,” but she said it off-handedly as she squinted, trying to bring the mystery into focus. No one asked Mark if he had done it, they knew he only went into nature to please his wife.

  “What is it grandpa?” the girl’s asked.

  Terry turned to look at them but scolded her daughter instead. “Annalisa you’ll hurt your eyesight squinting like that.” Her daughter’s expression looked eerily like her own when she was exasperated, but no one ever said so. “I’ve told you, you need to get glasses.”

  “I will mother, but I can’t afford the frames right now.” Annalisa climbed to her feet holding on the table and the pack of her daughter’s chair for extra support.

  “Frames?” he father asked. “Why how much do they cost?” But the words were out before he saw Mark’s gesture to leave it alone.

  “Most stores don’t carry the biodegradable bamboo frames,” she started as she waddled out toward the door. She was still talking when her mother asked her what she was doing. “I’m going to see what it is.” She answered as if it were a silly question.

  Terry told her grandchildren to sit down and finish breakfast, as they watched the pregnant woman reach the tree. A moment later Annalisa was yelling and waving something as she hopped across the yard. The men were up, but no one had made it very far when she came rushing through the kitchen door. Out of breath she slapped the envelope down and rested both hands on the table; one held a light blue velvet ribbon, the other an antique looking broch. The envelope was addressed to Mom & Dad in the same swirling script Luveday had used on every card and note since she was thirteen.

  No one moved for a moment until Terry cleaned off her butter-knife and gently pried off the wax seal.

  “Is it from her?” Annalisa asked still breathless.

  Mark moved closer, but asked from the other side of his father-in-law, “From who?”

  “It looks like her handwriting,” Terry said in awe and handed the cover letter to her husband. The thick paper was leathery and bore only the words Mom & Dad.

  “Well,” she asked impatiently, shushing the girls as they squirmed in their seats.

  “Oh, my goodness.” Terry dropped the letter her hands suddenly weak.

  Annalisa made a grad for it, but her father was faster. The two men scanned the pages reading fast. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mark whispered, running a hand through his hair. He looked to Annalisa dumfounded, a look she had only seen on her husband’s face when she had recently announced that she was carrying a boy.

  “What? What is it?” She asked, and for once the little girls didn’t chime in. “Is it from Luveday?”

  The girls squirmed and settled knowing the subject of their aunt was important and serious since she went away. They were as eager to hear news of her as the rest of the family, though they were starting to forget what she looked like and sounded like; thought they still remembered that she had smiled a lot, and had she loved them bunches.

  Terry and George exchanged confused looks, as he handed over the sheets of paper.

  “That can’t be real can it?” Mark asked again, pointing to the letter.

  The women read the letter slowly, drinking in every incredible word while George rifled through a drawer of the built-in desk in the kitchen until he found an old notebook. He brought it to the table as they read the final lines. He laid the open book next to the letter as everyone gathered around to see. The lists Luveday had copied for her father and instructions on how to care for the orchard matched the writing on the letter perfectly.

  Annalisa swallowed hard. “If this is real, and she left it for us, why didn’t she come back?” There was a catch in her voice.

  “Honey.” George gathered his daughter close as the two girls left their chairs to take comfort from their father. The adults exchanged glances.

  It was Mark who lifted up the obvious answer. “Don’t you remember, she said she was happy, loved, and pregnant.” They looked at him, tears in their eyes. “She had a life there, and maybe…” he looked down at his daughters who clung to him and knew they didn’t really unde
rstand why everyone was so sad. “Maybe this was all she could do. She let us know she was okay, that she was happy and safe.”

  “She didn’t think we would ever see this letter,” Terry said aloud.

  Once again Mark, logical to a fault, gave the answer they all needed. “Maybe she got an opportunity and took it before it was too late.”

  They all looked out the window to the orchard and for a moment they saw, not the orchard and the back fence, but a man and woman embracing. A moment later the couple separated and walked off hand in hand. They had been dressed in medieval garb, looking very much like Luveday and the man she had described as her husband.

  “George.” She gasped, as mother and daughter held onto him.

  “I saw them.” He replied as Mark did the same.

  “I saw them too,” echoed one girl and then the other.

  “Where did they go?” asked little Seraphina.

  Annalisa cleared her throat as he mother turned to cry quietly in her father’s arms. “You remember all those stories Auntie Luve told you about princes and fairies?” The little girls nodded excitedly. “Do you remember how they ended?” She asked and looked to Mark; a tear rolled down his cheek as he blinked more away but didn’t let go of his girls as they answered. “That’s right. Well, that was Aunt Luve and her prince, in her happily-ever-after.” The couple looked at each other across the table, looked to their parents and found that they were all smiling through their tears. “Just like she said.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Amelia M. Brown. Author, Artist, Dreamer; she goes by many names. If you were to ask her the really important questions in life, she would answer thus. If she were a dragon she’s be a sapphire Wyrn with a book horde big enough to fill a mountain (maybe two). If she were on a popular Sci-fi starship show, she‘d be a blue shirt. You know the one. If she were a tree she’s thank you for buying kindle additions, but she’s not be too worried since California oaks are protected by law. If she were an animal she’s be a fox, because they are a surprising mix of cat and dog. Loyalty, intelligence, snuggly and needs some alone time. That’s her to a T.