by Olivia Kerr
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Prelude
She screamed as if she had never screamed before. She screamed as if all her limbs were going to detach and she would die a terrible, horrible death right there. She screamed as if the mouth of hell itself was opening up and she would perish before she had a chance to say goodbye.
Not all pain was bad though. Not all pain brought a reason to end one’s life. Some pain brought life into the world.
“Is it a boy or a girl?” the exhausted mother asked, as she leaned forward.
“It’s a boy,” the midwife said with a smile.
“A boy?” The mother leaned back and looked at the father. Both of their faces were set, as they exchanged silent words.
“A boy,” the midwife repeated.
“He has to be taken from us,” he said. “As soon as he weaning begins. He has to help the bloodline.”
“I know,” the mother said, as she took her baby and looked down upon him with tears in her eyes. “I know. What a weight you have, tiny soul. What a weight you already have.”
Prologue
“Ye are not a wee lass anymore, so why do you insist on acting like it?”
Abigail felt like she was going to break down in tears if her brother, Jacob, yelled at her one more time. She had done nothing wrong, but it seemed like Jacob always had a reason to yell at her.
At least, he had always had a reason to yell at her since their parents passed away from the terrible fever that took half the village.
Who died and made you king? she thought.
It was what they used to say to each other when they were young, playing in the meadow together. They used to giggle as they said it, and go right back to telling each other what to do. Abigail, Jacob, and Claire—the three united against the world.
Their parents’ deaths had taken away the only family they had left, and for all intents and purposes, their parents had died and made Jacob king.
There wasn’t much of a kingdom nowadays. Abigail was not a princess, but her merchant father had provided a way of life for them that Jacob could not recreate, no matter how hard he worked. He did not have a head for business like his father did, and he could not seem to bring enough coin into their modest family house to do more than keep their heads above water. She and Claire did everything they could, but nothing was enough.
“Stop flapping your gums at me,” Abigail said, with all the courage she could muster. “There’s no eggs, Jacob, and hardly enough flour. I did the best I could with the bread, but it’s hard when you are missing most of the ingredients.”
Jacob glared at her and then tore off a hunk of bread and headed out the door. Abigail resisted the urge to throw the rest at him as he went. The only reason she stopped was because Claire put her hand over her arm.
“He’s not worth it, lass,” Claire said, softly. “The burden on his shoulders is heavy, that is all.”
“Aye, it may be heavy,” Abigail said. “But I do not think he has to lash out at us every time he feels it. We’ve done nothing wrong. We are doing the best we can.”
“Mother used to say that Jacob felt everyone’s emotions but his own,” Claire said, as she went back to kneading tomorrow’s bread. It was even more beautiful than today’s bread loaf, and they both knew it. “I think she was right.”
“Of course she was right,” Abigail said, as she sat back down and picked up her needle and thread. She was trying to mend one of Jacob’s shirts, but it had been mended so many times before that it was hardly worth it. “She was always right. But then, she never did say much.”
“No,” Claire replied. “Mother often thought about everything she said before she said it. Perhaps that is what made her so wise.”
“The opposite of Pa,” Abigail said, with a gentle smile. “He seemed to say everything that came to his mind.”
“Perhaps that is what made them wonderful together,” Claire said, as she looked back down at the bread. “If he hollered at you for that loaf today, I cannot imagine what he is going to say about this one.”
“I thought that it didn’t matter?” Abigail asked.
Claire sighed as she looked out the window. “The truth, dear sister, is that I do not think James realizes that we must try something new, or we will not survive another winter.”
“What do you mean?” Abigail furrowed her brow in confusion.
“He will never bring in the money Pa brought,” Claire replied. “And the sooner he realizes that, the sooner we can help.”
“How can we help?” Abigail said. “We are doing all we can here.”
“Well, I am going to marry Calum,” Claire said. Abigail looked up at her sister in shock.
“What?” she asked. Calum was one of their neighbors, and while he wasn’t wealthy, he certainly was better off than they were. “When?”
“Soon,” Claire replied, with a mischievous smile. “As soon as he asks.”
Abigail shrieked at her in annoyance.
“He hasn’t even asked yet?” she said. “How do you know he would marry you?”
“Because Calum and I made a pact one night when Mother and Pa were very sick,” Claire said. “He said he would take care of me if anything was to happen.”
“I thought he was courting Mary?” Abigail asked, confused.
“Oh, he is,” Claire replied, as she dusted her hands off. “But as soon as he realizes what a desperate situation we are in, he will stop courting her and marry me instead.”
“Oh, I see,” Abigail wasn’t sure how seriously to take her sister. “Well, congratulations, Sister.”
“Thank you,” Claire replied. “That is my plan. What is yours?”
“Well, unless Calum suddenly has a brother, I do not know,” Abigail replied. “It’s not as if we can go out and be merchants or start businesses.”
“No,” Claire said. “But there are other ways to gain employment. The laird in the manor house at the edge of town is looking for housemaids.”
“He is?” Abigail was surprised by this prospect, but she was not opposed to it. She had never been in service before, but she was not above starting. If he was truly looking for housemaids, she thought she could apply, because she took care of this house enough to have experience anywhere. In addition, she figured the laird would not yell at her every day like James did.
“I heard it at the market,” Claire said. “Would that be something that you would—”
“Tell me how to apply,” Abigail blurted out before her sister was finished. Claire chuckled as she went to the water basin.
“I expect you just present yourself,” she said. “And the laird will decide from there.”
“Hmm,” Abigail replied. She had doubts as to whether this was the correct way to go about the matter. Abigail had never applied for a job before, nor had she ever been in the laird’s house. “Would he not want to test my skills, perhaps? Or even ask for references?”
“You could be honest,” Claire suggested. “You do not have any references, and you would be hard-pressed to get them without having any other employment. However, you could tell him the lot we have in life, and how you will work hard. I suppose I could vouch for you, although he may not be interested in my word. Perhaps Jacob would consider it.”
“Jacob would not do it out of kindness for me,” Abigail said, with a sigh. “He would only do it out of kindness for himself if he knew he would have to take on less work.”
“Then you would have to agree to send the money home,” Claire said, as if it were nothing. “Rather than just remove yourself from the house.”
“Of course I would send money home,” Abigail said. She w
as outraged that her sister would even suggest that she would not. “What would I need coin for when I am provided for at the big house?”
Claire smiled at her.
“You are a kind soul, Abigail,” she said. “But what if you wanted to build a life for yourself?”
Abigail hadn’t even considered that. She assumed that this would be her life until she met her maker. Or if she was lucky enough to marry someone she’d known all her life, even if she did not love him with her whole heart.
“Oh,” she said, and Claire smiled at her.
“Sister, why don’t you finish these chores and then put a comb through your hair and head to the manor house?” she asked. “What is the worst that can happen?”
“I suppose nothing,” Abigail replied. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Claire answered, and the two girls continued to go about their chores. Abigail knew she was slightly slower at completing them because her mind was distracted.
What would the manor house be like? Would she find herself working to the bone, or would she find happiness like she never knew?
After the chores were done, Abigail did as her sister suggested. She didn’t have a clean dress to put on, but she tried to make hers look as presentable as possible. She ran a brush through her hair, and washed her face. She scrubbed her hands as well and tried to get the dirt out from under her fingernails before kissing her sister on the cheek.
“Wish me luck.”
The manor house was on top of a large hill, overlooking the village. Abigail had never been up there, for she had no need to climb the hill. As she approached the grounds, she couldn’t help but gasp. She could surely fit several of her little house into just the sprawling garden alone. There were roses and lilies, and there was a hedge maze that looked like it went on forever. There was an orchard of some kind, and there was a bench in the middle of it all that she hoped she’d be able to sit on one day.
She didn’t know what door to approach, but she knew that great houses often had a back entrance, and so she found one that wasn’t the main door and rapped on it.
For a long moment, no one answered. Abigail was starting to wonder if she would have to come back tomorrow when all of a sudden, the door was pulled open.
There was a man standing there who was surely not the master of the house. Abigail thought, by his manner of dress, that he was some sort of manservant. She wasn’t sure if a house like this would have a butler or just a few servants who worked in many different areas.
“Can I help you?” the man asked.
“Yes, I’ve come about the job,” Abigail said. She straightened up and pushed her hair back. She hoped the walk up the hill had not made her too unpresentable.
“The job?” the man asked.
“Yes, I hear the laird is looking for assistance,” Abigail replied. “And although I have never worked in such a grand house, I have worked on my own, and I can cook and clean and wash as good as anybody.”
“I see,” the man replied. To her surprise, he held the door open. “Come in then, lass.”
She stepped through the threshold of the doorway. Inside, the house was cool, and it was bustling with activity. As he led her through a stone hallway, Abigail tried to take everything in. There was a kitchen, which had a few girls working there, and a long stairway that to what she surmised was the main part of the house. She knew that this was likely just the servants’ quarters, but she had never seen anything so grand in all her life.
“Wait here,” the man said, and then disappeared down another part of the hallway. Abigail raised her eyebrow in surprise, as she was left alone. How long would he be gone?
Before she could wonder too long, he reappeared with an older woman in tow. She looked frazzled, and her face was set with a frown. Abigail took a step back, intimidated.
“This is Mrs. Horner,” the man said, and then promptly headed up the stairs. Abigail turned to the older woman with a timid smile.
“Hello,” she said.
“Lass, have you ever worked before?” Mrs. Horner asked.
“Um...no,” Abigail replied. “That is to say, I have never been paid for it. But I am a hard worker in my own house. My brother has ruled with an iron fist since our parents passed away. He expects perfection, and although it is just my sister and I, we do our best to make sure there isn’t a hair out of place or a meal that isn’t perfect. We wash, cook, and keep the house so clean you could eat off the floors.”
“I see,” Mrs. Horner said. “And you would expect to go home, to the village, every night?”
“Oh no,” Abigail replied. “I mean...unless you would want me to?”
“There are rooms here,” Mrs. Horner answered, and looked her up and down. “You look strong and healthy and I need another girl since the last one walked out.”
“Walked out?” Abigail answered, in surprise. The look Mrs. Horner gave her told her that perhaps it was best she did not ask any more questions.
“When can you begin?”
“You would like me to begin?” Abigail couldn’t believe her ears. Mrs. Horner glared at her.
“I would like you to begin if you believe that you can go about the tasks quickly, without unnecessarily chattering,” she said. “Is that possible?”
“Oh yes,” Abigail replied. She couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across her face. “Oh yes, I could, absolutely. Thank you! Thank you so much.”
“You are welcome,” Mrs. Horner answered. “Did you bring any of your things with you?”
“I did not,” Abigail answered. “But I have nothing of value that I may need, except perhaps my one extra dress.”
“You are about the same size as the last one,” Mrs. Horner answered. “So you should fit what she left behind. Do not think you’ve walked into the lap of luxury with this job, girl, for you have not. This is hard work, and you will rarely see the finery that the master lives with, except as you clean it.”
“I do not expect anything of the sort,” Abigail replied. “I am just grateful for any opportunity to help my family.”
“Well then,” Mrs. Horner answered, “come with me.”
Abigail felt as if she was walking on a cloud. Was she really starting work? Could this be the moment that she never had to live under Jacob’s thumb again?
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Copyright Olivia Kerr Publications © 2020
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This book is a work of fiction. Some of the characters are real historical figures, but the others exist only in the imagination of the author. All events in this book are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.
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