by MJ Haag
* * * *
The next morning, I woke with a start and sat up. The bed beside me was empty. I stared at the spot for a moment, disoriented, then flopped back onto the bed. Alec thought I meant to abandon him before the feast. I’d need to tell him I meant to stay through the feast. But, how could I tell him without making him aware I’d been awake?
The door opened.
“Good morning,” Egrit said in a chipper tone.
I groaned.
“You go to bed the same time I do. How do you wake before me?” I asked.
“When I set my head to my pillow, I immediately sleep. Do you?”
I used to. Lately, however, my mind raced long after I set my head to my pillow. It didn’t help that Lord Ruhall interrupted my sleep as well. Egrit didn’t wait for me to answer.
“Tam’s waiting for you.”
I didn’t need further motivation to remove myself from bed. I hurried to dress.
The apples proved plentiful but not yet ripe, whereas the nuts had already ripened and most had fallen. With Tam’s estimate of another two weeks for the apples to be ready, I gathered what nuts remained and took them to the kitchen. Given Mrs. Wimbly’s continued surly mood, I kept the news of the apples to myself and went off to help in the ballroom once more.
While I assisted washing the large, long curtains, I pondered the menu. The unripe apples were a blessing as the kitchen could now remain focused on preparation and storage until just before the feast. Yet, would such a short timeframe be enough when they still had to cook meals?
I left Mrs. Palant and Egrit to wring and hang the material and went to the kitchen to seek Mrs. Wimbly’s opinion. Hard at work with a stag on the block and several fish waiting on the table, she scowled at me when I entered. I left the room with my answer. She would not much appreciate additional work.
While the curtains dried, Egrit, Mrs. Palant, and I returned to the ballroom to move the furniture outdoors for an airing. The first piece gave us trouble as we moved it into the overgrown garden. Brambles tugged at our skirts and poked the old material covering the cushions.
“I’m going to tell Tam we need this weeded,” Egrit said.
I nodded my agreement. If the ballroom became stuffy during the feast, we would need to open the doors for air. The tangle of vegetation would prevent anyone from stepping out.
The three of us stomped down what weeds we could and spent the rest of the day moving pieces outside.
After dinner, Retta and Lettie found us and explained that Otta had remained behind to watch the younger children; and Tom, the older boy, was with Mr. Crow. I’d forgotten they were to help clean but quickly found tasks for them to perform. Once we finished, they helped us move the pieces indoors. Though I knew the work they did was better than what would have waited for them, it did bother me to see the weary droop to their shoulders at the end of the day.
Yet, the children were no wearier than we were. Making the barest of efforts, I washed before bed and slid under the covers. It was only then that I recalled I hadn’t spoken to Lord Ruhall about staying through until the end of the feast.
I briefly considered locking the door before I closed my eyes.
* * * *
The next day Egrit, Mrs. Palant and I worked on the second parlor, and our progress moved slower than the passing hours. By dinner, the furniture and rugs were outside and beaten and the fireplace free of soot. This time Retta and Otta joined us.
“We’ll take turns watching the little ones,” Retta said. “If that’s all right.”
“It is. Did you two eat already?” They shook their heads. “Let’s all stop for dinner.”
We walked together to the kitchen and found the other children already at the table. They quietly watched Kara, the assistant cook, scoop a portion of dinner into their bowls.
Mrs. Wimbly stood at the block, scrubbing the surface clean. As she worked, she mumbled. I couldn’t catch everything but enough to know that she didn’t like that the children had come in for dinner. She moved a polished tray to the clean block then started to set it precisely.
She’d just set the food upon it when one of the men came in with a string of fish. She heaved a sigh.
“Set them in the basin. I’ll deal with them in a bit.”
“Is there somewhere the tray needs to be, Mrs. Wimbly? I’d be happy to deliver it so you can address the fish.”
“It’s a tray for Lord Ruhall,” she said stiffly. She still didn’t like me despite all the hard work I put in alongside everyone else.
“Then I’ll deliver it for you.”
She set the tray on the table and turned her back to me. Kara’s gaze darted between the two of us. I smiled at Kara before I picked up the tray and left.
Father wasn’t at his paper stacked desk or anywhere else in the library. From the study, I heard his voice.
“We’ve stopped at one hundred and twenty-five,” he said.
Silence greeted him.
I stepped into the room and caught Alec’s hopeless gaze.
“None of that now. Have you already gone through the list?”
“Is there a need?” Alec asked, watching me set the tray on the small table. I took the plate from it and set it before him but stole one of his biscuits before I turned away. I doubted the cook would save me any dinner. Alec could share.
Father shook his head as I bit into the biscuit. I swallowed with a grin and sat to face Alec once more.
“Of course,” I said, answering him. “You will need to converse with everyone who comes. Wouldn’t you like to know their names and a little about them?”
“Very well. Mr. Hovtel, would you be kind and read the list for us?”
Father read the list and added a few comments about each guest. I kept my expression neutral when I heard Bryn and Edmund’s names. Blye’s name didn’t bother me as much. I smiled when I heard Henick and his family would receive an invitation. I hoped they would attend. Alec’s scowl only deepened.
“We had better add Rose’s name,” I said when Father reached the end.
They both looked at me, clearly surprised. I shrugged.
“She said she would be watching regardless. Consider the invitation your official acknowledgement of her observation, nothing more; and perhaps she will see the invitation as a gesture of goodwill.”
I stood, knowing I needed to return to the ballroom.
“Where are you going?” Alec said.
The thread of concern in his words stopped me.
“For now, back to the ballroom. There is much to clean in a very short time.” I hoped that inference would be enough to assure him that I meant to stay through the feast.
He nodded, and I left the pair.
Mrs. Palant, Egrit, and the girls were already hard at work scrubbing the floor. Seeing the room well occupied, I took the ladder outside and started to wash windows.
* * * *
The next morning, I woke with renewed ambition. At some point during the course of the night, I’d let go of my annoyance with Bryn long enough to realize Edmund might be the solution to Mrs. Wimbly’s hectic schedule. Shortly after rising, I found myself walking toward Konrall to speak to him. This time, I brought Swiftly with.
“Benella, welcome,” Edmund said when I walked into the bakery.
“Hello, Edmund. Allow me to introduce Swiftly. He is in Lord Ruhall’s employ.”
Above, the door to the second floor opened. I kept my smile on my face as Bryn descended. Her steps on the stairs slowed when she saw me, and her welcoming smile chilled. The arrival of another customer defused the tense moment.
“How can I help you?” Edmund said as Bryn moved to assist the other customer.
“Lord Ruhall is hosting a harvest feast. I would like to order two hundred pastries.”
Edmund froze and Bryn stopped speaking to her customer to stare at me.
“I’ve had the sugar glazed kind from your bakery in the Water and enjoyed it immensely. However, I’m hoping yo
u can work apples into a pastry for something out of the ordinary, something that would fit a harvest feast.”
Edmund seemed to collect himself with a deep, slow breath, and Bryn went back to her customer.
“Apples...yes, I should be able to procure enough for two hundred pastries,” Edmund said.
The customer left, and Bryn lingered by the counter.
“The estate has plenty, and I would be happy to send Swiftly back with the amount you need. They won’t be ready for another two weeks,” I said, knowing I’d just reduced the price he could charge. “Also, guests will be coming from the Water and a few even further afield. With so many guests sampling your sweet creations, you’re sure to have new customers.”
“This is for Lord Ruhall?” Bryn said, her voice heavy with disbelief. “Why would Lord Ruhall send you here to buy pastries?”
Since I’d already explained the reason behind the need for the pastries, I knew she was questioning why I was Lord Ruhall’s emissary.
“Have you inquired after Father at all since you wed?” I asked. Her cheeks flushed, giving me her answer. “If you had, you would know he is no longer teaching but Lord Ruhall’s man of estate. I’m assisting.”
Bryn opened her mouth to say more, but a look from Edmund silenced her.
“Let’s talk price in the back,” he said, gesturing to the sitting room.
“No, thank you.” I had no desire to visit that room again. “Perhaps the kitchen?”
Edmund nodded. When I moved around the counter, Swiftly followed; and I didn’t mind his company. The kitchen had its own memories. Yet, when I stepped through the door, I couldn’t recall them.
The back door stood open, letting in a breeze and light. No flour coated any surface. The old table was gone and a longer, thinner table had taken its place. There were also tall chairs near the high table. Edmund motioned to one and smiled at my questioning glance.
“It’s easier on the back to switch from sitting to standing when working. The raised table helps, too.”
“You look like you’ve quite settled in. Has business improved?”
“Not really. But perhaps this order will help.”
“I think it will help both of us. I’ll be honest, Edmund. After such a long enchantment, the estate struggles. It isn’t what it once was, but Lord Ruhall is working hard to bring it back. Part of those efforts includes the harvest feast. It’s not for the gentry, but for the merchants and common folk who depend on the estate.”
“It feels as if you’re trying to sell me something, Benella.”
“In a way, I am. I’m trying to explain how you’ll reach a larger market by baking for the harvest feast so when I tell you we can only pay a single gold for two hundred pastries, you won’t kick me out.”
Edmund sighed and his shoulders slumped, but he didn’t kick me out. “That barely covers the cost of the flour, sugar, time to prepare—”
“I can also provide you with double the apples you’ll need so you can produce the same pastries after the feast is over.” He still looked troubled. “And promise a portion of next year’s hazelnuts?”
His expression took on a speculative gleam. I sat quietly and waited for him to think over the offer. I was loath to part with a single gold piece but knew it only fair. If he didn’t start receiving coin soon, there would be no baker in Konrall.
“You have a deal,” Edmund said, offering his hand.
I shook it with a grin, feeling quite pleased with myself.
Swiftly and I left the bakery, together, after assuring Edmund I would keep him apprised of the progress of the apple harvest. I only hoped that promising him double the apples would leave enough for cider. If not, there was always spring water.
“He doesn’t seem to like you any better,” Swiftly said softly, interrupting my thoughts.
I followed his gaze and found Tennen watching us.
“His like or dislike is no bother to me,” I said, looking away. “I’ve more important things to worry about.”
“The feast will be a welcome respite because of your efforts,” he said.
“I hope so.”
We walked the rest of the way in silence. By the time we returned, we’d missed the midday meal. As I went to the kitchen for a quick bite, I heard a faint giggle. I walked slowly, listening. In the dim hall, just before I reached the laundry, I found a staircase leading up.
“I must be the least observant person here,” I said under my breath.
At the top of the stairs, a hall led right above the kitchen and left above the laundry and formal dining room. Another faint peal of laughter came from the left.
A door opened to a large room. Inside, the children sat at small tables with the youngest in front and the oldest in back. A weathered man, dressed in a neat, yet worn, jacket decades out of fashion, wrote the letter D on the blackboard. He caught sight of me when he turned to his students.
“Welcome. Students, please welcome Miss Hovtel.”
“Good afternoon, Miss Hovtel,” they said in unison.
“What manners,” I said with a smile.
“Manners, letters, and numbers, Miss Hovtel. I’ve found the letters and numbers do no good without manners.”
I met the man’s steady gaze, and he bowed slightly.
“Mr. Roost, at your service. I believe the last time I saw you, you were at the pond.”
And, like that, I could see the resemblance in his features to those that had twice adorned the tree.
I smiled and gave a slight bow back.
“Do you have the supplies you need to teach this group?”
“Oh yes. The previous student did not use much of his supplies.”
Alec had admitted to being a poor student.
“I’ll leave you to your class then. Good afternoon children,” I said, moving toward the door.
After leaving the schoolroom, I went to tell Father about my deal with Edmund.
Father sat at his desk, busily penning a letter. From the study, I heard a similar faint scratch of ink on parchment.
“Ah, Bini,” Father said, looking up as he heard me enter. “How is the progress in the parlor today?”
“The second sitting room was almost finished yesterday. I hope we can start on the main ballroom yet today. How is everything here?”
“We’ve penned over half the invitations. By this evening, we should have two piles ready for the riders who will go out at dawn. I’ll walk to the Water to hand deliver the ones in town.”
“That is good news. I’ve made a deal with Edmund to make apple pastries for the feast. Twice as many apples as he’ll need for two hundred pastries, for half the price he would normally charge. I’ll need a gold to pay him when we deliver the apples.”
Father nodded and made a note.
“Give my warm regards to Blye when you see her tomorrow,” I said as I left.
Father nodded absently, already back to penning the next invitation.
Egrit, Mrs. Palant, and I used the rest of the afternoon to clean the parlor. Once we finished, Egrit went to press the curtains while Mrs. Palant and I set to work scrubbing the remaining windows. Once again, I skipped dinner and fell into bed exhausted.
When the bed dipped long after I’d fallen asleep, I barely roused. Gentle fingers began to untwist the braid from my hair. Sleep reclaimed me before he finished.
* * * *
When the sun hit my eyes, I groaned and rolled over. It took a moment to realize what the light meant. Sitting up, I looked at the windows. As I’d suspected, it was well past daybreak.
After a mad scramble of dressing and making my bed, I left my room and hurried to the ballroom. Both Mrs. Palant and Egrit were on ladders, using cloths tied to the end of long branches to dust the webs from the walls and ceiling.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked. Sun lit the room through the clean windows. The doors to the garden were wide open, and Tam whistled as he pulled up weeds from the immediate path.
“I tried
. Lord Ruhall heard me and suggested I let you sleep.”
Unsure how I felt about that, I changed the subject.
“I’m going to find myself something to eat in the kitchen and check on preparations while I’m there. I’ll return to help.”
The manor was quiet with everyone at their tasks. Father and the riders had left with first light, and Lord Ruhall was out hunting to replace the man who was helping Swiftly.
Mrs. Wimbly said little as I entered the kitchen and took a biscuit from a sack on the shelves. Mr. Crow nodded to me. He sat at the table, polishing silver and, it appeared, sorting through linens.
A swell of satisfaction carried me back to the ballroom and invigorated my cleaning efforts.
It was well past dark before I sought my bed. Just as sleep pulled me under, I reminded myself to search out Father to see how his visit with Blye had gone.
* * * *
The bed dipped. His familiar fingers laced through my hair as they worked the braid free. I sighed, enjoying the feeling. When he finished, his arms wrapped around me and pulled me against his chest. His lips brushed the back of my neck. The sensation didn’t disturb me. Instead, it comforted me; and I settled deeper into sleep.
Chapter 6
Egrit woke me with a chipper good morning and a tray.
“You didn’t need to bring me a tray,” I said, untangling myself from the blankets.
“Lord Ruhall has noted that you haven’t been eating enough and thought to prepare you a tray. I met him in the hall, and I insisted it wouldn’t be proper for him to bring it himself.”
I glanced at her face and saw she was entirely serious.
“I walked these halls shrouded in nothing but mist,” I said. “I hardly think bringing me breakfast improper at this point.”
“Don’t you? Perhaps Rose isn’t just watching him. This is our chance to show her we won’t let him become the man he once was.”
She made a valid point. She set the tray on the small table and moved to help me remake the bed. If she saw the dent in the second pillow, she didn’t comment.