by M. J. Haag
I nodded and handed the license back.
Shortly after we returned to the kitchen, Sabine entered. Her silent, tear-streaked face reminded me that Kellen and I were not alone in our grief.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said.
Sabine gave me a half-hearted smile as she sat on the stool by the fire and accepted a cup of the tea that Kellen had brewed.
“Thank you. And I am sorry for yours. I will leave with Anne and Judith at first light. There is no doubt now that magic was involved. We may not know who is to blame, but certainly the guard will have to give credence to the issue of their disappearance once they see the remains.”
“I agree,” said Maeve. “Judith and Anne serve as irrefutable proof that something is amiss in these woods.”
Chapter Fifteen
The moment the cock’s crow sounded, I flew out of bed. I’d meant to wake before first light, but Kellen and I had stayed up late talking. Despite Maeve’s warning to keep the news of her marriage to Father a secret, I had told Kellen. She had a right to know even if the information hurt her.
“Kellen, wake up.” I hurried to slip into my dress as my sister sat up. “We’re going to miss saying goodbye to Sabine.”
That sparked some life into Kellen. She got out of bed and washed her face, the slight puffiness around her eyes barely noticeable. It hurt to know that she’d cried because of Father’s abandonment of us. But it made me more determined to speak to Sabine again about bringing the bodies to the guard. If she was able to convince the guard that something was happening here on the king’s lands, help would come quickly. And, perhaps we could then petition the king for help finding our father.
“What if they accuse her?” Kellen asked softly.
“Sabine wasn’t hired on until after Mother, Judith, and Anne had already died. It would make no sense to accuse her.”
“Very little in this world ever makes sense.”
I gave her a quick hug.
“One look at those bodies, and the King’s guards will know magic is involved. They’ll come help. The forest will be full of them, and they won’t rest until they find the person responsible for all of the deaths.”
Kellen nodded, and I helped her lace her dress then opened the door to rush downstairs, passing Maeve’s already empty room.
When we entered the kitchen, we found Maeve by the fire watching three eggs boil.
“Good morning, my dears. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, thank you. Where is Sabine?”
“She left before first light.”
The news stunned me.
“Hugh is going to look for help while he’s in town,” Maeve continued. “I hope he’ll return by lunch. Until then, the best I can do for breakfast is a boiled egg. I’m afraid my fondness of kitchen labors shows in my skill.”
Maeve scooped an egg from the water with a wooden spoon. She only started to straighten when the egg rolled off and landed on the floor. The shell shattered and a scramble of semi-cooked egg whites and yolk spattered her skirt.
For a long moment, she looked down and did nothing. I knew that stance. It spoke of frustration and anger. The same emotions that often plagued me when circumstances were not favoring me. Much like now. Why had Sabine left so early? It was on the tip of my tongue to ask when Kellen nudged me.
“Eloise and I can make breakfast,” she said.
“Thank you, Kellen.” Maeve’s words were barely a whisper.
She went to the table and began brushing off egg bits as Kellen and I set to work making something else for breakfast.
“I apologize,” Maeve said suddenly. “I’m making a mess of things.”
“One broken egg isn’t a mess,” Kellen said, pouring boiling water over oats.
I measured out the honey and nuts then covered the mixture.
“While that soaks, I think I’m going to go visit Mother,” I said. “I’ll eat when I return.”
“Don’t stray from the path,” Maeve said.
Her lack of argument surprised me until I recalled I had never had the chance to tell her where I’d found Anne’s cap. Too smart to bring it up and ruin my chance for freedom, I gave my word, grabbed my cloak, and fled the house.
Despite the deaths, the idea of walking the woods alone didn’t frighten me. While some might say it was a lack of sense, I preferred to think of it as an extra bit of sense. The forest never frightened me because it didn’t feel malevolent. People were wicked, not places—the Dark Forest excluded.
My feet carried me on a familiar path to Mother’s grave. The sight of the pear tree, now twice my height and in full bloom, shocked me. A small bird sang in its branches. When I entered the clearing, the bird quieted but didn’t fly away.
“Hello, little friend,” I said. “Thank you for singing to Mother. She loved all your songs.”
I sat on the bench and sighed, trying not to let the pain of missing my mother consume me.
“It feels as if a lifetime has passed since you left us, Mother. How has it only been weeks? So much has changed. You already know that Father is gone. We thought his absence would be extensive but temporary. However, Maeve showed me something that leads me to believe he never intended to return to us. He loved you so much, Mother. But, I wish he would have loved Kellen and me enough to have stayed. We could have used his guidance.”
I took another deep breath and looked around the trees. It was quiet. Peacefully so. The scent of the pear blossoms washed over me, soothing me.
“Judith and Anne are gone. Taken by magic, like you. Kellen and Maeve don’t want me to pursue whoever might be doing this for fear of the Crown’s angry gaze landing on us. Yet, how can I sit idly by and watch those I love be taken from me one by one?” My throat tightened as I thought of Kellen. The only person I had left.
“I’m so angry, Mother. I’m trying to control it. I’m trying to think things through and not make any rash mistakes. However, I fear this idleness is, in itself, a rash mistake. I can only hope that Sabine has reached the guard and that they will take her seriously and not imprison her.”
I sighed again, looking up at the bird who was watching me from a tree limb.
“Will you sing for us?” I asked.
To my surprise, it started warbling a pretty song. I closed my eyes, letting the sound wash away some of my pain and loneliness. When the song abruptly stopped, I opened my eyes and saw Kaven approaching in the distance.
He lifted his hands in surrender and peace. Warily, I watched him enter the clearing and halt on the other side of Mother’s grave.
“You look so much like her, but you are nothing alike,” he said.
“Who?”
“The princess,” he said.
“Prince Graydon’s princess-wife?” I frowned, confused by Kaven and his current intention.
“The very same,” he said.
“You’ve seen her?”
“A man would need to be blind not to see such beauty.”
My face began to warm at such a comparison.
“For her, it wasn’t just on the outside.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Are you saying I’m ugly on the inside?” I demanded.
“You have hit me in the face, bashed me with a rock, kicked me in the testicles, twice, and called me a pig. I can’t exactly call any of that exemplary displays of inner beauty, now can I?”
The urge to hit him again had me fisting my hands in my lap. His gaze flicked to them, and he smirked knowingly.
“Truly, I cannot decide if your intent is to kill me or annoy me. Go away.”
“Why would you think I would want to kill you?” he asked, his humor starting to fade.
“Considering you knocked me from my mount, how can I say otherwise?”
He grinned anew, a show of straight white teeth, which created a dimple in his right cheek. I blinked stupidly, once more noting how devastatingly handsome he was. Kaven was dangerous in too many ways.
“Go away,”
I repeated.
“I fear I cannot. I came to speak with you. When we first met, you mentioned your mother’s passing. That day I came to pay my respects.”
I snorted.
“You came to verify I spoke the truth.”
He gave me a censoring look before continuing.
“Back then, this tree wasn’t even to my knee. A single stem with no branches or leaves. Yet, look at it now.”
His gaze pinned me.
“This tree has been touched by magic,” he said lowly. “We must cut it down before it’s noticed by others.”
I stared at him. At the concern in his gaze, not for me but for the possibility that magic lingered nearby and that someone else might discover it. Could his worry be real?
“That tree was the last thing my father gave me before he left and likely the final memory I’ll have of him. Keep that in mind when you do what you must.” I stood to leave.
“Eloise, wait. I don’t mean to take memories from you. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
I made a scornful noise.
“Has there yet to be a meeting between us where I did not, at some point, land on the ground?” He opened his mouth, and I quickly cut him off. “Don’t bother with excuses.”
He considered me for a moment then inclined his head, and I felt satisfaction that I’d won that round.
“Before your mother died, did anyone new approach you? Were you given anything?”
My first thought went to the sound of hounds in the woods and news of the Crown’s impending presence. Kaven had been the first new person here. After he’d arrived, so had the messenger boy and the necklace.
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m trying to determine how a single tree, in a forest full of them, is affected so.”
“Perhaps my father bought it that way,” I said. “Yes, it’s touched by magic. How else can it be growing like it is? Yet, nothing malevolent has come from it. You heard the bird song. This place is still peaceful despite the magic. Have you ever considered that not all magic is bad?”
He held my gaze.
“Have you ever considered that not all magic is good?”
I thought of Mother, Judith, and Anne. Anger consumed me again. Without consideration of consequence, I crossed the clearing, standing toe to toe with Kaven.
“This is our land, by order of the king, to do with as we please. If you feel we’ve broken some sacred law, report us. Otherwise, leave this place and me in peace before I do something I most certainly will not regret.”
He made a maddened sound.
“This meeting would have been much more enjoyable if you’d been on your back again.”
My mouth fell open. Before I could respond, he pivoted on his heel and stalked away. I did the same, making sure to kick every fallen branch I crossed on the way to the house.
“Vexing, officious pig,” I mumbled just before I reached the door.
I took a calming breath before I stepped inside. I needn’t have worried, though. The kitchen was empty save for a covered bowl of hot oats for me. I ate slowly, repeating the conversation in my head. As much as Kaven provoked me, I struggled to continue my belief he was behind the attacks. I’d been isolated in the clearing. He could have taken me like the others. Why hadn’t he?
“I honestly don’t mind the work,” Kellen said, checking the tea service.
Maeve was once again with a visitor, and with Sabine gone, Kellen was determined to fix a tray.
“Besides, Sabine isn’t likely to return with Hugh. I’m certain she’ll want to stay until Anne is buried.”
“And to ensure the guard responds,” I said.
Kellen nodded, and I watched her arrange some of the pastries that Sabine had made the day before.
“Did you finish your books already?” I asked.
She gave me a wry smile.
“Are you hinting that I should be cosseted away somewhere with my silly stories instead of helping?”
“Absolutely.”
She rolled her eyes at me.
“Reading, while enjoyable, isn’t enough to prevent this restlessness I feel.”
She caught my surprised look.
“You’re not the only one plagued by that condition.”
“Would you like to go for a walk with me? I should take the pig out soon.”
She shuddered.
“No, thank you.” I knew the shudder wasn’t for the pig but for what the pig had found the last time I’d taken him out, one of the many things we’d discussed the night before.
The sound of a wagon outside had us hurrying to deliver the tea tray to the dining room for Maeve. I planned to pepper Hugh with questions about Sabine’s talk with the guard. However, it wasn’t only Hugh who walked through the kitchen door a moment after we returned.
The first of a pair of questionably dressed women looked close to our age. Her brown gaze swept the room and locked on us. She smiled and performed a messy curtsey. The older women, behind her, bowed her head to us while also taking in the room.
I barely noticed Hugh enter because I couldn’t stop looking at the generous display of bosom that the dresses of both women offered. The younger woman’s flesh trembled with her excitement.
Kellen elbowed me. Hard.
I jerked my gaze up to find both women staring at us.
“Er…hello,” I said.
“These are the new maids,” Hugh said gruffly. With that, he turned and left.
The sound of the door closing seemed all the louder because of the subsequent silence.
Kellen nudged me again. Someday my sister would need to find her voice.
“I’m Eloise, and this is my sister, Kellen.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” the younger woman said, smiling widely again. She didn’t, however, offer her name.
“And you are?” I asked.
“Oh! I’m Catherine, and this is Heather. We’re very grateful for this opportunity. We’re hard workers and can listen well to direction.”
Her earnestness and dress made me feel sorry for her. I’d been to town enough to know the sort of employment she’d had before this.
“Then this should work out well. We eat simple meals, but due to the passing of our mother are entertaining guests that expect more refined repast. Kellen and I can show you how to make a few of the pastries, if you’d like.”
“We would like that very much,” Catherine said.
Kellen and I gave them a tour of the kitchen. Each time I stepped close to either of the new women, my stomach gave a lurch at the strong smells of smoke and stale booze that clung to them.
“Maeve, our guardian, will be with our guest for a while yet. Would you like to freshen up before we begin? You’ll have the kitchen to yourselves, and we have a few spare dresses you can change into, if you’d like.” Certainly, Judith and Anne would approve.
“We tuck away the tub just here,” Kellen said, pointing to a large cupboard to the left of the stove. “It’s copper and heats nicely by the fire.”
“Kellen and I can help you bring in water.”
Heather gave a startled laugh.
“You want us to bathe in your tub?”
“Only if you want to,” I said hesitantly.
The pair exchanged a glance, like Kellen and I often did, then nodded eagerly. However, they wouldn’t hear of allowing us to haul the water. Once we showed them where the well was, they shooed us inside with a promise to have a stew ready for the midday meal within an hour.
Kellen and I snuck to our room.
“You know they’re from a whorehouse,” Kellen said.
“Yes.”
“Don’t you find that an odd occupational change?”
“Not at all. Which would you rather do? Lie on your back to service multiple men or cook for a respectable family.”
Kellen glanced at her book and flushed.
“Sister, what are you reading that has you blushing?”
“A romantic book where the h
ero has manners and is devotedly loving to his bride. The loving is a bit detailed. She doesn’t seem to mind being on her back rather than cooking.”
At my wide-eyed look, she glanced at my book.
“Surely the same type of book Mr. Bentwell has been giving you.”
I shook my head.
“Mine are fantastical tales of humorous adventure with happy endings for the heroine.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Oh. Give me your book.”
For the next hour, we read each other’s books.
“This is so boring,” Kellen said, closing my book.
“And this is far more than a bit detailed,” I said, not taking my eyes from the page. “‘He lovingly stroked her breast, toying with the rosy peak that begged for his hot, hungry mouth.’ I repeat my earlier question,” I said, closing her book. “What have you been reading? I can only imagine Mother’s reaction to such a book.”
Kellen’s expression fell, and I knew I’d gone too far.
“She would have demanded to borrow it, and Anne would have scolded us for giving her something that would make her pulse race.”
Kellen smiled slightly and stood.
“I’m not some delicate flower you need to protect constantly, Eloise. Although Mother was open about the joy she found in the marriage bed, I think you’re right. She would probably question the wisdom of me reading about it. Likely she would think it would rob me of the joy to be found in the actual experience. However, I have no intention of ever participating in any of it. So none of that matters, does it?”
I shook my head, understanding Kellen probably better than she understood herself. She’d been hurt too much, too quickly, with the loss of those she loved. Instead of being angry at whoever took those lives from us, she pulled inward. She would rather never love again than risk the kind of pain she’s endured.
Following her from the room, we quietly made our way back to the kitchen. A discreet knock on the door was answered with a cheery, “Enter.”
The tub was drying before the fire, and Catherine and Heather were by the block, busily scooping a healthy serving of vegetable stew into two bowls.
