Endearing (Knight Everlasting Book 1)

by Cassidy Cayman

  She came out onto the training field at last and looked around for him. A few rogue chickens ran past, followed by Mrs. Merrick, the master of the horses’ wife. Normally, Fay would have been glad to see her. She was the only other woman at the castle besides Anne, Batty, Marjorie, and herself, and was out-to-there pregnant. She’d met her during her week of hiding, on one of the few times she’d slipped downstairs for fresh air, certain Sir Tristan was eating in the great hall and she wouldn’t have to face him. She was two years younger than Fay, but shockingly looked ten years older. It was going to be her first baby and Fay was almost as excited about it as she was.

  This morning, however, she’d hoped for secrecy, not running into the second gossipiest person in the castle.

  “You’re up and about early,” Mrs. Merrick said cheerily, pausing in her chase to rub her massive belly.

  “Er, yes, came to watch the training. Now that Anne’s feeling better I can get outside more.” There, that would prove she hadn’t been hiding, just in case anyone suspected it.

  “Oh, you didn’t hear, then?” She stopped rubbing her belly and grinned, revealing a gap near the back.

  “Hear what?” Fay asked. If anyone knew every little thing about the place, it would be Mrs. Merrick. From what Fay knew of her, she honestly liked the woman, but feared her a little as well.

  “Sir Tristan and his lot had to leave in the wee hours. Their keep is under siege.”

  “Siege? Will they be all right?”

  “Most certainly. If you’d been down here every day you’d have seen what marvelous fighters Sir Tristan and his men are. Oh, dear, come and sit down. I didn’t mean to shock you with the news.”

  Fay was, indeed, shocked and let Mrs. Merrick lead her to a low stone wall, meant to keep the chickens in order, but no one had ever told the chickens. They sat down and Mrs. Merrick heaved a huge sigh of relief. She didn’t seem concerned about the siege or Sir Tristan tearing off in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye. Maybe this really was as mundane as she was making it out to be. Fay let out her held breath, disappointment flooding in where her fear for Tristan’s life had been a moment before.

  “When will we know something?” she asked.

  Mrs. Merrick pressed on her back and Fay heard a series of cracks and pops. “We’ll know as soon as we know,” she said, then gave her a sly look. “Were you sweet on Sir Tristan?”

  Fay was honestly surprised she had to ask that question, but decided she was being polite and not assuming. Still, Fay didn’t want to verify just yet.

  “When is the baby due?” she asked, thinking she’d diverted quite seamlessly until Mrs. Merrick laughed at her.

  “Not until spring, if you can believe it,” she said kindly, letting Fay have her privacy. “I don’t know why I’m so big already.” She grabbed Fay’s hand. “You don’t know anything about it do you? Giving birth? I mean, have you ever seen it, or perhaps assisted?”

  She looked so hopeful, Fay felt bad. “No, not at all. Not even a little bit.” The very thought of it, especially in this time, terrified her.

  Mrs. Merrick nodded, her shoulders slumping. “I was hoping you might. When we got married, I thought Mr. Merrick would leave the castle and we’d be in the village. Closer to the midwife. But your father couldn’t let him go, as he’s so good with the horses. I do love living here, don’t get me wrong, but I worry she won’t be able to make it in time when the baby wants to get here.”

  “Well, what about the physician?” Fay asked.

  She pulled a face. “No offense meant, since he’s your great-uncle and all,” she started. Was he? Good to know, she supposed, and gestured for Mrs. Merrick to continue. “He’s good for fevers and whatnot, but I don’t think he knows much about babies.”

  “Well, maybe we can have the midwife move in here when it gets closer to time,” Fay suggested. “Don’t women stay in labor for hours and hours anyway? Especially the first time? We’ll make sure to get her here for you.”

  Mrs. Merrick’s face went pale at the thought of hours and hours, but she patted Fay’s hand. “That’s kind of you, Lady Fay. You and your sister have made me feel so welcome since Mr. Merrick and I wed.”

  Fay wished she could ask more questions and really get to know her new friend, but she was afraid of arousing suspicions if she acted too ignorant. She was lucky she got away with as much as she did, since, apparently, the original daughter had her head in the clouds most of the time. But it hurt her pride to come across as too dimwitted.

  “Mrs. Merrick, may I call you by your given name?” she asked, instead of the hundred other things she wanted to know. Mrs. Merrick seemed to have such a wealth of information, but she’d have to weasel it out of her slowly.

  “Certainly,” she said, acting surprised and pleased. “It’s Catherine. It would be nice to hear it again. Sometimes I think my own husband has forgotten it.”

  “That’s very pretty. Regal. So, Catherine, why are you so sure Sir Tristan and his men will be safe?”

  She rubbed her belly thoughtfully. “I think it because Sir Walter’s spread the news of the alliance standing the same as when Sir Andrew held the property. Only fools would dare attack, knowing that.”

  “But aren’t fools the most dangerous? Nothing to lose and all that?”

  “That might be so,” she agreed, pulling no punches. Fay appreciated it, though it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “But they are also usually ill-equipped and poorly led. Also, it happened so quickly, it couldn’t have been well planned. Sir Walter has so many spies, if anyone of import was behind the attack, he would have had word of it before anyone broke ground for the first trench.” She patted Fay’s hand in a motherly way and, once again, Fay couldn’t get over the fact that Catherine was younger than she was. “Don’t be overly afraid for him. He’s capable.”

  “Oh, it’s not for him, especially. I was worried about all of them,” she said quickly, feeling her face heating up. She slumped when she saw Catherine’s knowing look and knew she’d given herself away.

  “It wouldn’t be a bad match,” Catherine said offhandedly. “I believe your father would take your interests to heart if it came to it.”

  “No, it’s not like that at all …” Fay groaned and shrugged. She couldn’t talk about these things with Anne, her eyebrows would give out from dismayed furrowing. And Batty was a dear, but she’d only giggle and swoon and then start talking about how handsome Brom was as if it were all a game. And for Fay, it was life or death. “Maybe a little bit like that,” she admitted. “Do you love your husband?”

  “He’s a good man, and it was a good match,” she said. “Yes, I’d say I do.”

  “A good match,” Fay repeated. “That’s what I need.”

  “Oh, you’ll get one. Your father will see to it, especially since Anne…”

  Fay jerked to attention. “What about Anne?”

  Catherine shook her head so hard, she frightened a chicken pecking innocently behind them. “Nothing. Just that it seems she doesn’t want to get married. She’s twenty-five after all.”

  “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” Fay had to suppress her disbelief at that, but knew it was the common opinion. In her time, many people would try to talk Anne out of getting married so young.

  “Sir Tristan will return. Or else there’s always Lord Drayton.” She smiled widely at the mention of that name. “Your father seemed extremely pleased after his last visit. Enough to arrange another, anyway.”

  Who on earth was Lord Drayton? Was he someone who might be a contender? And who visited whom? If it was Sir Walter who’d gone there, then she wouldn’t know him, but if he’d been here at Grancourt Castle, she should know all about him. Frustration boiled as she couldn’t think of how to ask anything without giving herself away. It only piled on top of her disappointment at not being able to see Tristan again, sandwiched in with her new anxiety over his safety.

  “Could I love this Lord Drayton?” she pondered. “Instead of
Sir Tristan?” She felt like a traitor thinking it, but she’d only known him for one week, most of which she spent hiding from him. She looked desperately at Catherine. “I really need to fall in love.”

  Catherine burst out laughing and stood, stretching her back again. “That’s how I used to think before I got married. You will, in your own time. It may be sooner than you think since Lord Drayton will be here in a fortnight, remember?” She grinned wickedly. “You can comparison shop.”

  That had to be the most scandalous thing a medieval woman had ever uttered, because Catherine’s face grew bright red after she said it and she crossed herself. “I must catch some of these chickens now,” she said apologetically. “But I will pray for Sir Tristan’s safety. If Lady Anne is feeling better, perhaps I will see you in chapel later. It’s been a while.”

  “Yes, she’s loads better. I’ll ask her about it.”

  Fay nodded her goodbye and hurried back upstairs. She had a lot of things to ask Anne, if she could figure out how to do it without appearing dafter than usual.

  Chapter 11

  “You’re up and about rather early, Sister,” Anne said when Fay entered her chamber with a tray of food.

  “Just hungry is all,” she said, keeping her eyes down. “I guess you heard about Sir Tristan leaving in a hurry?”

  “Yes, of course,” Anne said. She had a knowing look in her eye. “How did you come to find out about it?”

  Fay wanted to huff at that. Anne was still in her nightgown and she knew, but Fay was under suspicion. She was the one who’d gotten up early and actually talked to people in the castle. That was how she found out. Her frustration was at its highest level. She was sure going to the kitchen and wrangling with the cook to let her take breakfast up to Anne would have worked some of it out, but the man had been surprisingly cheerful and agreeable that morning.

  He was probably glad to have a break from cooking for so many people for a while. She’d asked him if he knew about Lord Drayton’s visit and he’d given her a look of pity, then put a few more pieces of fish on her platter. She was getting sick and tired of everyone thinking she was an idiot. She actually was, she knew that, but it wasn’t her fault. It felt so unfair that she couldn’t explain why she was ignorant.

  It might be time to refer back to the depressing book, hopefully get some answers. She was positive what she’d read of it before had no mention of any Lord Drayton. There had been no mention of Tristan either, though Brom had been in there, oddly enough. Thinking about the book spoiled her appetite and she pushed aside her plate.

  Anne reached over the small round table they sat at and patted her hand. “Batty told me,” she said. “I know you were to meet Sir Tristan this morning.” Instead of looking censorious, she looked sorry for Fay. “You liked him?”

  Fay was shocked Batty had known at all, and angry that she’d squealed to Anne. There were zero secrets in this castle. “I don’t know,” she wailed. “I wanted to get to know him, but now those marauders stole him away before I could get the chance. And the whole time he was here I—”

  “Yes, you were caring for me,” she said.

  Fay felt guilty, adding another crappy emotion to the already overburdened pile of negativity she was under that morning. But she couldn’t explain that it was only a convenient excuse. If she hadn’t been so afraid of meeting Sir Tristan after the hellacious bathing incident, she would have found time to get outside to see him. That made her feel worse, almost like she was suffocating. If she hadn’t been such a coward, hadn’t stewed so long in her own outrage, Tristan might have apologized earlier and they would have had much more time together.

  “I would always choose caring for you over anything else,” she said dutifully. She meant it but, because of her bad mood, it didn’t sound very sincere. More guilt squeezed its way onto the pile. “Do you know of Lord Drayton’s visit?” she asked, happy to change the subject from her utterly failed attempt at romance with Sir Tristan.

  Fay stuck out her tongue as if she’d tasted something bad, but didn’t have any food in her mouth. That didn’t bode well. “Yes, and so do you, Fay. Although, I don’t blame you for forgetting, with all the excitement of Sir Tristan and his men and, of course, my illness.”

  Anne said it mildly enough, barely a rebuke for her supposed usual daftness, but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Back in her own time, she was a fairly capable person. She’d worked up from lowly salesgirl at a massive department store to being manager of accounts for shoes and handbags. People actually asked her questions and she always had an answer. She didn’t forget things. No, she wasn’t a genius by any stretch, but being treated like a forgetful buffoon for the last week, pitied even, made her lash out at last.

  “I didn’t forget,” she said, tears burning at her eyes. “I never knew. I’m not your sister. I’m from hundreds of years in the future and I came here because of a damned curse. Your whole castle is under a curse and it’s up to me to save your asses. Which I’m happy to try and do, but it’s hard!”

  She regretted it instantly. Expected Anne to call for the physician, maybe scurry out of the room and away from the madwoman. She tried to think of a way to make it right, but shouting “only jesting!” seemed inadequate. What would happen now? Had she spoiled everything? Did this count as a failure and now she would die? She waited to feel a searing pain in her chest. In fact, she did feel a searing pain in her chest. She’d been so contemptuous of the ones who came before her and she’d already broken.

  Anne blinked at her and took a bite of dried fish with a bit of bread. “That’s a lovely song, Fay. I’ve never heard it before, did you make it up?” She smiled sweetly, eyes full of pride. “You’re so talented. You should really sing at a gathering one of these days.”

  Fay stood up and hurried to the window, clutching the sill and looking out. A few of the boys were out there going through their paces, but it was a sorry sight without Tristan and his crew. After taking a few gulping breaths and stopping her hands from shaking, she turned and looked at Anne again. She still sat at the table, daintily picking at some bones, humming quietly under her breath. Was she humming the song Fay had supposedly just sung?

  “I need to fall in love with someone to break the curse,” she said forcefully. She stormed back over to the table. “If I don’t, I’ll die and someone will replace me. Who knows how long this has been going on, but a long time I think. There were at least three before me. Don’t you remember any of them?”

  Anne pushed her plate away and sighed. “So very lovely. I really love the reference to the birds.” She sighed again. “I’ll be glad when spring is here at last. I’m grateful this has been a mild winter, but I long to see the birds again.”

  “Me too,” Fay said, gobsmacked.

  She sat down, head spinning. She recalled the night she’d let something slip to Batty and she’d heard it as a request for a snack. If she said something pertaining to the curse, they heard it as something else. A perfect failsafe to protect the damn thing. She wondered if anyone before her had found it out. It had only taken her a week and she’d cracked like an egg. Surely someone else must have let loose with something.

  “Why did you make a face when I asked about Lord Drayton?” she asked, getting back to business, though her heart still hadn’t settled down to its normal rate.

  Anne made yet another face. “It isn’t anything against him,” she said. “I’ve only heard good things about him and, of course, Father was impressed by him when he went to Lord Drayton’s home.” Still, the sour face held as she continued. “His holdings are vast and he has favor with the King.”

  “He sounds great,” Fay said, getting a bit excited about this new prospect. Sir Tristan’s beautiful blue eyes flashed rebukingly across her mind, but she pushed them away. Maybe you shouldn’t let your land get besieged, she thought meanly.

  “Sounds great,” Anne repeated dully.

  Fay started to worry her face would stay like that. It was gett
ing worse and worse as the conversation went on. Perhaps he was ancient or hideously ugly. Which shouldn’t matter, she reminded herself firmly.

  “Then what’s the problem? Why are you so determined to give yourself wrinkles while you talk about him?”

  Anne burst out laughing and relaxed her face. “It’s only that I think Father has it in mind to propose an alliance between our families. I don’t want to lose you.”

  That was so sweet, Fay got teary eyed again. “I’d demand to keep living here, no matter what,” she said, making Anne laugh again. “But what about you? You’re the oldest, so shouldn’t you marry first? Do you not want to marry at all, ever?”

  Anne tilted her head to the side, the slight pitying look on her face again. This time, it was her eyes that welled up. “Dear Fay,” she sighed. “I know you have such hope, but I don’t think it’s in God’s plan for me.”

  That was about the dumbest thing Fay had ever heard, but it reminded her of what Catherine had said. “Do you feel up to going to chapel again?” she asked. “I met Mrs. Merrick and she said she’d be praying for Sir Tristan and his men, and wondered if we’d be down today.”

  “I do like Mrs. Merrick,” Anne said.

  “Her given name’s Catherine. She likes to be called that.”

  Anne nodded. “I wouldn’t like to give up my name either if I were to marry,” she said. “I shall ask her if I may call her that as well. I do admit I cannot wait for those babies to arrive.”

  “Babies?” she asked incredulously. “You think it’s twins?”

  “Either that or she’s been unfaithful with a giant. But don’t speak of it to her. I can tell she’s fearful enough about having only one.”

  Fay grew serious, knowing that in this time it could be deadly and that Catherine wasn’t wrong to be fearful. She made up her mind that the next time she saw Sir Walter, she’d ask if the midwife could stay in the castle until the birth. Her appetite had never returned after the disappointing morning, so she pushed away from the table.