Wiping the sweat from her brow, she angled her body toward the waiting men. They seemed content to just sit and wait. Sarra couldn’t help but wonder if Cedric would come to the keep for shelter as well.
As far she knew, he was at Megean’s, snug and warm in bed. Did Megean have a leak? Maybe Sarra could have someone go and punch a hole in the roof. The thought brought a grin to her face.
“What a lovely smile ye have, miss.”
Sarra blushed. Compliments were an uncommon thing for her. “Thank you. Would you and your men like something to drink?” she asked Duncan.
“Aye. Would be nice, but don’t put yerself out. I can have the men get it.”
“Nay. The mistress has invited you inside the keep. I will be more than happy to provide you with something to drink.”
“I don’t think Cedric will like it,” said a blond-headed fellow.
“Boyd, will ye shut up? What Cedric don’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Don’t ye tell me to shut up, Filib. Cedric has his eyes on this one. And I for one don’t wish to offend him.”
Sarra’s eyes widened. It was obvious Cedric had been talking to these men about her. Heat flooded her cheeks as the two men Boyd and Filib continued to speak about her as if she wasn’t there.
“She’s fair to look upon.”
“Aye, I know. But we shouldn’t look.”
“And why not?”
“’Cause if Cedric sees us lookin’, he just might rip our eyes out and leave them for the buzzards. That’s why.”
Sarra didn’t know how much more of this she could take. Duncan must have sensed her mood for he said, “Men, cease. Tell the young maid what ye want to drink.”
Ten voices all spoke at once. Sarra was overwhelmed but was able to capture most of what they said. It didn’t matter. She could have told them there were no choices save one, but would they listen?
After they were finished giving their orders, just as if they were at a local pub, she sauntered to the kitchen, found a pitcher and a few goblets and brought them back to the waiting men. Plopping the items down in the middle of them she said, “You’ll have to share.”
They stared at her slack-jawed as she walked away with a whistle on her lips.
The rain continued for most of the day, dropping in heavy sheets. Every time anyone thought to leave, the giant hall doors were hauled open, but one look outside and guests returned to their seats upon the rough-hewn floor.
By midday, Sarra was exhausted from filling orders, looking after young children, and listening to constant complaining. She couldn’t wait to retire and leave the lot to themselves.
By nightfall the rain still hadn’t slacked. Looking out through a narrow slit in the kitchen door, Sarra’s heart broke as the tiny shoots of the neat rows of vegetables had been washed away.
The moonlight only emphasized the gravity of the situation. The whole yard was a barren wasteland of mud and debris. If the rains didn’t let up soon, there would be nothing left. All the food needed for the winter would be lost. How would the keep survive then?
Sitting at the kitchen table, Ella and Shelly were hulling peas Cook would prepare for tomorrow’s meals. Charism was tending the sick in the other room.
Though not physically on her own, Sarra realized just how alone she was. When the rains ended, the lady of the keep would be in charge of getting everything in order. The villagers would look to her for guidance, leadership.
At this moment she wasn’t sure what to do. In all her time as leader of the small keep, nothing like this had happened. It felt as if the future had washed away with the tiny seedlings.
Sarra sighed, placing a basket of peas upon her lap. The stool wobbled under the added weight as Sarra went to work. There was too much to do now to worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow would have enough worries unto itself.
Chapter Twenty
“Would ye stop ye pacin’?”
“Sorry,” replied Cedric.
“I’ll have ye supper ready in a moment.”
“I’m not worried about eatin’.”
“Aye,” said a distracted Megean.
“I’m worried about, about—” Cedric hesitated in finishing his sentence. The woman didn’t need to know about his personal concerns.
“Well I knew ye wasn’t worried about eatin’. Figured ye had other worries on ye mind.”
One of the Megean’s children came into the room, interrupting the ongoing conversation. “Mum, can I have a drink?”
“Aye, Eithne.” Megean worked to extract her round form from the chair.
Cedric stopped her. “I’ll get it.” Then speaking directly to the little girl, “What would ye like, lass?”
Eithne batted long eyelashes coyly. After he placed the cup in her hand, her lips twitched at the corners. “Are ye me new daddy?”
Cedric gasped and sputtered. Megean immediately reacted. “Eithne! Get back in yer room.”
The young girl skipped back to her room leaving behind a flustered Megean. “I should have told ye. Ye have to leave soon. My husband will be back and I canna have ye here. As it is, I am not sure me children won’t tell their da that I had a male visitor while he was away.”
“But I thought ye let the room to others.”
“Nay. Ye are the first. I mean it was always me plan to have boarders when me husband found himself away. But ye are the first person to actually stay. Now I’m not so sure it was the best of ideas,” Megean said shyly.
Cedric shook his head. More trouble.
His hand resting on the table was patted as Megean continued to explain, “I’m sorry. But their da has been gone for months and I needed the funds. The mistress is kind and helps us with food and the like. In fact she shares the garden with everyone. But there are other things I need. Cloth, ribbon, and the like. Merchants want coin. Of course I’ll explain yer presence to my man when he arrives, but if ye are here I don’t know if ye will make it away with yer life.”
Cedric rolled his eyes. Why had he not anticipated such a disaster? Without speaking, he walked to his room, gathered his belongings and headed to the door.
“Where are ye going?”
“To acquire other lodgings.”
Megean laughed. “Ye are going out in this?”
“Aye. I am.”
Cedric opened the door. The wind whipped, threatening to rip it from its hinges. Pushing it closed, he wrapped his plaid around his shoulder and headed for shelter.
****
Imagine having to go to the privy! Every chamber pot in the keep must be in use. Too bad the first level garderobe wasn’t real.
With a candle in hand, Sarra moved down to the kitchen and out the back door. The rain poured. Her gown was soaked and sticking to her before she reached the privy situated not more than ten steps away. Entering the small dark closet, a steady drop of rain showered her head.
As she stepped out into the blackness of night, her foot slipped and slid into a deep mud hole. Sarra glanced down and groaned. The mud swallowed her black footwear. The wet, gooey substance seeped up around the top and sank inside. Her toes squirmed in hopes of gaining traction. A sigh upon her lips, Sarra realized with this consistency, the ground would take forever to dry.
Disheartened, Sarra took hold of waterlogged skirts and headed for the back door. As she rounded a corner, a hooded figure stepped in front of her. A scream welled from her throat and threatened to escape, until a familiar voice was heard.
“What are ye doing out here, lass?”
“Cedric?”
“Aye.”
“Where did you come from?” she asked, still breathless from the unexpected encounter.
“I believe I asked ye first.”
“I was using the…,” words caught in her throat.
From the light of her burning candle, Sarra could see understanding lighting Cedric’s face. “Ye better get back inside. This weather will be the death of ye.”
“Aye. But what of you? Where are you stayi
ng?”
Beneath his covering, Sarra could just make out a grimace. Before he could answer, she said, “Would you like to come inside? We are rather crowded but I’m sure there is room for one more.”
“Aye. I think I would.”
Together they walked toward the keep. When they reached the back door, Sarra placed her hand on the handle and pulled but nothing happened. Then she pushed, still nothing happened.
“Is something wrong, lass?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can I try?”
Sarra stepped aside and Cedric mimicked her actions. Looking at her, he said, “I believe they have locked ye out.”
“What? Nay. That is not possible.”
Sarra raised fists and began to beat against the wood. Calling out to any and all who might hear her, she yelled until the sound came out in a hoarse whisper but no one came. With a hand cupping the flickering flame of her melting candle, Sarra walked to the other entrance. Again with her fist she beat against the wood to no avail. Cedric was correct. They had locked her out.
“Sarra…”
“What?”
“We must find other shelter. Ye cannot stay out in this weather.”
Already the gown stuck to her skin, and her hair was plastered to her head. “But where?” she asked in a whisper.
Then as if by a miracle, a beam of light shone through the clouds landing on the stables. Cedric grabbed Sarra’s hand and pulled her along. But the wet dress was too heavy and she stumbled and fell. Cedric bent down and scooped Sarra up, cradling her to his chest. He walked toward the stables, and once inside, set her down.
Cedric mumbled under his breath, “I hear the patter of rain, so there must be a leak, but nothing of great significance…”
Finding a stall empty of animals, Cedric opened the gate and beckoned Sarra to enter. Shuffling her feet, Sarra shivered as he followed her inside.
“Ye need to change.”
“And how do you suggest I do such a thing when I brought no clothing with me to the privy and if I had they would have been wet!” The damp cold made Sarra irritable.
Cedric shrugged. “I saw a blanket. I’ll get it for ye and then leave ye be until ye can change.”
Cedric left her standing in the middle of the stall. Shaking with fury, Sarra took deep breaths. Before her anger completely abated, Cedric returned.
He handed her a blanket and walked back out of the stall, obviously expecting her to follow his directions without further comment.
Sarra understood the wisdom of what Cedric said. To sit around in wet clothing was uncomfortable and could make her ill. But the thoughts of changing while he waited outside sent shivers up her spine. What should she do?
Chapter Twenty-One
Cedric paced outside the stall. Sarra shouldn’t be taking so long to get out of her wet clothing. She would catch the ague. Why would the woman not listen to good sense?
When he pushed the door, a chastisement was on his lips. But as the door creaked open, the sight of her rendered him speechless. Sarra was standing in the middle of the room with the coverlet draped partially around her shoulders. The water from her hair was running down her back in a tiny stream.
At the sight of Cedric, Sarra shrieked and lunged for the drooping cover. “Wh-what are you doing in here?”
Cedric closed his eyes and took a big gulp. Breathlessly, he answered, “I was just checkin’ on ye.”
Slowly, Cedric opened his eyes. Sarra still stood before him, her legs exposed. His gaze was drawn to the slender length of lily white, and so were his thoughts. He lost his ability to speak.
Sarra grunted, “If you wish to speak to me please look at my eyes, not my legs.”
Raising his gaze level with her face, Cedric cleared his throat before responding. “Aye, aye, of course.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Did you have something to say?” She hitched the cover a little higher, wrapping it tighter around her body.
Cedric relaxed and causally leaned back against the stall door, making himself comfortable. He was prepared to stay put for awhile. “Nay.”
“Would you refrain from staring at me?”
“Nay.”
“Nay?”
“Nay. I believe I like starin’ at ye.”
“Cedric—“
“Ye need to wrap it a little tighter before it slips to the ground. Do ye need help?”
Hitching the cover around her frame as tight as she could manage with just one hand, Sarra said, “I do not.”
Cedric snickered under his breath. Turning his head away, he removed his tunic and wrung out the water. He heard Sarra’s swift intake of breath as his upper torso was revealed. When his hand went for his waist, Sarra spoke.
“You will not undress in this stall. Go to another.”
Cedric glanced at her and winked. Her eyebrows rose as he walked out of the stall and removed his plaid. The wool was full of water and would take hours to dry. Unfortunately he had nothing else to wear. Being a gentleman, he placed the wet garment back on his frame before reentering.
Sarra stood against the wall with her eyes closed and her head resting on the wood. She appeared asleep but when Cedric stepped closer, Sarra’s head turned and her eyes opened. “You can stay on that side.”
“Are ye sure? If we sit together we’ll stay a mite warmer.”
“Nay. You’re wet.”
“True. I am wet. But ye wouldn’t want me to take ill, would ye?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe I would.”
Cedric laughed as he slid down to the hay-covered floor. The wind howled outside but they were safe. Would anyone look for the small maid before morning?
Cedric twisted a piece of straw in his hands. “How did you come to be here?”
“What?”
“How did you come to be the maid of the mistress? Ye seem awfully young. Were ye born to yer position? Or did the mistress purchase ye? Will the lady have someone come and look for ye?”
The young lass shifted uncomfortably. What had he said to worry her?
As he watched, Sarra’s legs wobbled and she slid to the ground, making certain to grasp the coverlet on her way down.
Was there going to be an answer? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask the question again, but before he could, Sarra said, “Nay. I don’t believe I will be missed.”
“Are ye so insignificant or does yer mistress just not care about ye?”
If Cedric wasn’t mistaken, a bit of fire flashed in her eyes. Had she been clothed he might have had a fight on his hands. As it was, Sarra remained in a seated position.
“Can we just go to sleep?” she asked.
“Ye want to lie down and go to sleep?”
“Aye. I do.”
“So no one is going to come and look for ye?”
Sarra’s eyebrow rose. “Why do you keep asking the same question? Do you have some ill will planned for me? Do you intend to harm me?”
Cedric was dumbfounded. Of course he intended no harm to the lass. But how could she know that when she knew nothing of his character? Sarra turned to lie upon her side, one hand tucked underneath her head, the other grasping the cover tightly to her chest. Cedric’s protective feelings surged, and he wished he had more to offer. A warm place to sleep and food on the table. Perhaps a whole house full of babes?
With a shake of his head, Cedric forced himself to quit thinking of her in that way. Commitment to owning this land was all that mattered. In order to accomplish his mission, he had to marry the mistress. Enough pretending he had a free will to do what he pleased.
“Sarra, I must ask ye a question.”
Sighing, Sarra pushed up on one elbow, parting one eyelid. “Aye?”
“Tell me about the mistress.”
Sarra sat bolt upright. The cover slipped from her shoulder. Cedric eyed the creamy white skin which came into view. Gulping deeply he shifted his eyes away. The mistress was his focus, not the maid.<
br />
“Why do you want to know?”
Cedric scratched his day-old beard before answering. “Ye see I’ve just come from England and there are some interestin’ rumors about this place and the mistress.”
“Such as?”
“Let me think. They say the keep is fallin’ in on itself. There is a disease of the bowels going around. Why, one man said he saw a head in yer garderobe.”
“Naught but fanciful tales,” said Sarra, a red hue coloring her cheeks.
“Of course, exactly what I thought. But it makes for a riotous evening. One man told this story about meeting the mistress for the first time and the King almost fell from the throne with his laughter.”
Cedric saw a smile quirk at the sides of Sarra’s lips.
“Was the mistress described?” she inquired.
“Aye. Old and all bent over with gnarled and knotted hands. Knobby knees, wrinkled skin, stringy hair. They claimed ye could see flames shoot from her eyes. Then, of course, there was the matter of her hair standing straight up in the air and moving around like the snakes of Medusa. Aye, there were all matter of interesting stories about the mistress.”
Sarra shifted uncomfortably. And Cedric continued, “Ye see, I haven’t been completely honest with ye.”
“You haven’t?”
“Nay. I haven’t,” Cedric said, worriedly running his hand through his hair. He needed her to know the truth. His feelings for Sarra were becoming hard to control. Perhaps if she shunned him it would make it easier to stop thinking about her.
“Cedric, perhaps we should talk about this in the morning.”
“Nay. It canna wait.”
Sarra sighed heavily. “Fine. What do you need to tell me?”
“The King sent me here.”
Sarra was visibly shaken. Cedric, confused by her reaction, kept talking. “The King awarded me Greenbriar because of my loyalty. The only thing is I have to marry the mistress to claim my land. Which is why I ask ye, what is the mistress like? I’ve yet to meet her. It seems she never comes out into the light of day! No one in the village ever talks about her. Why, if she is half as ghastly as the townsfolk believe, the villagers should be runnin’ scared.”
There Your Heart Will Be Also Page 11
