To Every Love, There is a Season

by Marissa St. James

  Ellen had spent the previous night with Margaret, helping one of the village women with a hard birth. The poor woman's laboring lasted all through the night, until she finally managed to expel the child from her body. They did not think the child would survive; it was slow to catch its first breath. When they were about to give up on the little girl, she gave out a lusty squall, letting everyone know she refused to give up so easily. She was a fighter. Ellen's eyes filled with tears, not only in happiness for the mother, but with grief for herself; for she would never know the joy of having a child with David. Even now as she dashed away tears brought on by the memories, her heart turned cool. Let him turn away from her and find someone else if that was his wish. She would never trust another man.

  Alone in her room, Ellen sorted through her gowns, examining them for needed repairs. As long as she kept herself busy, she had no time to think about David and what he might be doing—who might be sharing his attention and his bed. She mentally shook the thought from her head. Let him do as he pleased, he was no longer any concern of hers. Liar. She pulled back the protective layer of material used to separate one gown from the next, and stood motionless for a moment, staring at the next garment—her wedding dress. She ran her fingers gently across the fabric and stopped, then picked it up, rage coursed through her, and pain filled her heart, making her want to tear it to shreds. Instead, she folded the green velvet gown neatly and laid it in the bottom of the chest. Perhaps one day she could look at it without feeling such pain.

  Having lost interest in the rest of her clothing, Ellen wandered to the window and looked out over the moor. The spring day was warm and bright, but did not quite touch her. She felt as if nothing would touch her again. She was startled from her gaze, when a rapid knock sounded at her door, then it cautiously opened. A slender arm, covered in light blue velvet slipped through the opening and a slim hand waved a white cloth. Ellen could not help herself, and laughed.

  The door opened further. “Well, I thought to never again hear you laugh.” Kitty hurried into the bedchamber. Her face was aglow with excitement. “You will never guess what came for Papa."

  "I have no idea, but I am sure you will tell me,” Ellen gave a small smile. She thought nothing would stop her sister from telling her about the most recent arrival, whoever, or whatever it might be.

  "King John has ordered Papa to attend him at court, and we are all to go, as well. Oh, Ellen. What a marvelous adventure this could be. Do you think the tales about the king are true? Is he as sly and dangerous as they say?"

  Ellen laughed at her sister's exuberance. “Never let King John hear you utter such words, sister. He might take off your head for treason.” While Ellen was joking, she regretted her words at Kitty's reaction.

  Kitty raised a hand to her throat and her color paled. “Would he really?” she squeaked. “I meant no harm."

  "Do not worry, Kitty,” Ellen assured her sister, as she stroked the younger girl's blond hair. “But you must be careful what you say about the king. Men have lost their heads for less. You must listen, and be silent, speaking only when a question is directed to you, and then you must think carefully upon your answer before you speak."

  Kitty nodded her head vigorously, and took Ellen's hand. “Hurry, let us see what other news the messenger has brought."

  * * * *

  When the sisters arrived in the great hall, they were disappointed to learn the messenger had left moments before. The girls sat on either side of their father, while he studied the missive and frowned.

  "All the years I have served the king, never has he demanded my presence at court. Something is amiss here, but I have no idea what it might be. We have done nothing to offend him, nothing to bring special attention to us."

  "We can do naught but obey, Hugh. Perhaps after we arrive, he will tell us why we were summoned.” Margaret rose, smoothed her skirt, and stood by the fireplace.

  It was clear to Ellen that Margaret's no nonsense reply put an end to any assumptions they might have had, then the older woman stepped back quickly as Ellen and Kitty besieged her with questions about life at court.

  "Hugh, when are we expected at court?” Margaret asked.

  "We are to be there in a fortnight.” Hugh's expression darkened.

  "He gives little time to prepare our household and set out. The roads are muddy with spring rains. How does he expect us to arrive in so short a time? Fly?” Margaret frowned and started for the door.

  Ellen giggled as strange pictures formed in her mind, while Kitty's smothered laughter hinted at similar thoughts. Ellen cleared her throat, “Perhaps we should see to our packing?” She raised her eyebrows in question and glanced at the others. A nod from Margaret, was all the approval she needed. Ellen took her sister's hand, and they returned above stairs to begin the tedious work of supervising the packing.

  Maids had added more clothing to those all ready piled on the high bed, and Ellen began to sort through it. What did one wear when attending court? She was at a loss, for she had never been overly concerned about the quality of her gowns. She was as comfortable in a work dress as she was in a fancy gown. Two piles of clothing grew, and the maid took from one, folding them neatly and placing them in the chest. Ellen's quick decisions made packing easy. Bedding and other household items would have to be packed as well. One did not go visiting without bringing along all their own supplies.

  Ellen laid a finger against the corner of her mouth, and considered the extra four chests against one wall in her room. Since she had come home a few weeks ago, David had seen fit to send back all her belongings. Now she stared at the chests, wondering if she should go through them. No, she decided. To open them now, would be to open wounds, which were not quite healed. Leave them be, and perhaps one day, she would be ready to face those unhappy months of her short marriage. Did she still love and miss David? She was not sure now, but refused to examine her feelings too closely, yet again. One day...

  It took another two days of concentrated work to make ready for the journey to London. Ellen envied Kitty's innocent excitement, knowing she herself would never look upon another journey with such joy and enthusiasm. What might have been excitement on her part, quickly dampened at the sight and memory of the chests in her bedchamber. Ellen turned her back on the recent past, determined not to spoil this adventure for her younger sister.

  The morning of their departure was sunny and warm, promising a good day. Ellen glanced about at the carts lined up at one end of the bailey, while men-at-arms waited patiently beside their restive mounts. She stood beside Stephen, who held the reins of the sisters’ palfreys, while Geoffrey gave Kitty a boost up onto her mount. Ellen had to admit, impatience was beginning to get the better of her. The portcullis had been raised and the drawbridge lowered across the moat. In moments they would be on their way.

  Ellen's turned her attention to the sound of clattering hoofs crossing the wooden drawbridge, then thudding along the bailey's hard packed ground. Like an omen, a dark cloud covered the sun and refused to move further. Ellen shivered. She stood beside Stephen, while others milled around, waiting for the disheveled messenger to state his business. Perhaps the king had changed his mind and decided her father need not go to court after all.

  "My lord,” the messenger began, breathless from the hard ride. “I am glad to have found you before you began your journey. I have an important missive for you."

  Ellen recognized the Scottish brogue and frowned. What would a Scotsman be doing here? She clenched her hands by her sides. If David had changed his mind and thought she would go running back to him, he would be disappointed. She had made a promise never to return to that country and she meant to keep it.

  Ellen knew her father was impatient to be on his way. She watched him quickly break the seal and read the contents of the message. Hugh's hand slowly dropped to his side, as if he were in shock, and he stared ahead at nothing. Ellen hurried over to him, a sense of dread filling her. She tamped it down as she approached
him. “What is it, Papa?” she asked softly and slipped the parchment from his hand. She skimmed over the contents, then stopped and read it carefully. She paled and dropped the message. Ellen moved slowly, as if in a trance. “They can not be dead,” she murmured, and turned toward the castle's great oak doors. She disappeared within the castle walls, where her wails of grief echoed hauntingly off the cold stone walls.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The main hall at Windsor Castle was filled with chatting courtiers. For a moment, Ellen felt out of place amidst the brightly clothed nobility. She wrinkled her nose at the overpowering perfumes masking more subtle and unpleasant smells. She clutched Kitty's hand, keeping her younger sister close by her side. Ellen was aware of the awe Kitty felt as they continued along the way being cleared. The closest courtiers whispered behind their hands, glancing back at them.

  Ellen admired her father's self-confident poise, his purposeful stride, the way he seemed to ignore all these people staring at them. He had been here before with her mother, but that was so many years before. Were there any faces he would recognize? Lady Margaret stood in place for Ellen's mother, and almost had to run to keep up with Hugh. Ellen would have laughed at the sight had she not been so nervous. She shortened her own steps and quickened her pace, to stay close behind them.

  Hugh stopped abruptly and bowed low before the king. Ellen almost bumped into her father before she stopped short, then dropped into a low curtsy, nudging Kitty to do the same. Nobles standing close by chuckled at her supposed clumsiness, causing her face to flush with embarrassment.

  "My Lord Ravencliff. Were you not to be here three days ago?” King John's tone proved he was in no mood to hear excuses from the duke.

  Hugh straightened and stared at the intimidating man standing before him. “We were prepared to be here as you commanded, your majesty. As you can see, we are in mourning. My son, and my daughter's husband were killed in battle a fortnight ago. Word only reached us a few days ago.” Hugh glanced at Ellen as he spoke.

  "This was your only son and heir?"

  "Yes, your majesty."

  "My condolences on your loss. As to your daughter's husband ... Am I given to understand she was wed to a Scotsman?” King John stepped closer to Ellen, and bid her stand before him. He was pleased with her manner, the way she kept her eyes downcast. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head, to better examine her features. He glanced back at Hugh.

  "Yes, he was."

  John turned his attention back to Ellen. “I can not say I am sorry the Scotsman is dead. She should have been wed to a good English nobleman, not a Scottish savage. I do not recognize this alliance between your daughter and a heathen. I shall think on someone more suitable for her."

  Ellen's eyes darkened with anger, but she wisely kept it under control. She would not embarrass herself or her family before the king. She lowered her gaze and folded her hands before her. She did not like the way he stared at her, or the way he barely glanced at Kitty, as if she were of little or no importance.

  The king reluctantly turned from the sisters and looked again to their father. “This must be Lady Margaret. You are widowed as well?"

  "Your majesty is well informed,” Hugh cut in. “Lady Margaret is my late wife's sister. She has been in my home these many years, having taken charge of the care of my children. She -"

  "Begging your majesty's pardon, but I am not widowed. My husband has not returned from the crusades, but I know he is still alive and will return."

  "The crusades ended many years ago, madam. If your husband has not returned to you by now, he is not likely to return at all.” John turned away from the woman and faced Hugh.

  "You will be shown to appropriate quarters. I will expect you to present yourselves for the evening meal. I will brook no excuses.” The king turned abruptly and strolled out of the hall, stopping long enough to collect his queen. He ignored the courtiers.

  Hugh turned to his family after the royal couple had left. “Something is not right here, but I will try to find out what his majesty has in mind. Find your rooms, and rest. I will see you at supper.” Hugh walked away.

  Ellen trailed behind Margaret as the older woman followed one of the queen's ladies-in-waiting to the upper floors. Ellen stopped long enough to grab Kitty's wrist and drag her sister along with them. There would be time enough later for Kitty to explore and satisfy her curiosity.

  Ellen was appalled to find they would be sharing a small room with a half dozen other women. Ladies in various stages of undress, lounged about on straw mats, whispering and giggling. Some tried to nap and complained bitterly about the noise. Ellen glanced at her aunt. “Are we expected to stay here?"

  Margaret whispered back. “'Tis unfortunate, but yes. Only those closest to the king can expect private quarters. I fear your father does not fall into that group."

  Ellen sighed softly. “I suppose we shall have to make the best of it.” She stepped gingerly over a girl who slept soundly, despite the chatter going on. “We will have to help each other with our clothing. There is no space for maids to come in and help. I am not complaining about the conditions, aunt,” she hurriedly whispered. “Yes, I suppose I am. I do not understand this crowding, when there seems to be so much room in this castle."

  "His majesty is most likely expecting more guests. I have a bad feeling, Ellen, but there is no real reason for it. I wish I knew what the king was up to."

  "I am sure we will find out soon enough. We must rest now, and prepare ourselves for whatever may happen this evening."

  * * * *

  Ellen was awakened by the commotion of other women arguing as they prepared to go to the great hall for supper. Gowns were straightened and smoothed down, wimples were placed over neatly combed hair. Ellen moved slowly, stiff from remaining in one position so long. She feared she looked as terrible as she felt. The other women chattered as they left the small room, leaving her alone with her aunt and sister.

  Ellen laid a hand lightly on her mourning gown and felt the pain of loss once again. The gown was wrinkled and in need of brushing. She still found it hard to believe Gordon and David were gone. She refused to believe they were gone. How could a handful of peasants best two strong young men, trained knights?

  It wasn't unusual to go a long period of time without hearing from her brother. Despite the fact she did not believe they were dead, something had happened to them. She tried, unsuccessfully, to remind herself the pain she felt was for Gordon. David no longer mattered. Fool. The rough black wool reminded her of the soft velvet of her wedding gown. Was it so long ago she had been happy and in love? Now, there was nothing but a dull pain in her heart. She wanted to think only of Gordon, to put David out of her mind for all time, but she failed miserably. She knew of no way to turn from a lifetime of loving someone. David was part of her soul and not to be easily forgotten. Ellen's thoughts snapped back to the present and she made a silent vow to get David out of her heart and mind forever, and move on with her life.

  "I thought you would never awaken,” Kitty complained. “Aunt said we must wait for you."

  "You should be a little more generous to your sister's state of mind,” Margaret gently reprimanded her younger niece. “Do not forget, we are all in mourning, Ellen more so than the rest of us. She has lost a husband as well as a brother, and the journey here has been very tiring.” Margaret straightened Kitty's silk wimple and circlet. “I expect you to behave accordingly, Katherine. Do not shame us before the king."

  Kitty gave a small pout, “I promise to be good, aunt."

  It was rare when Margaret called Kitty by her Christian name, but at those times, the younger girl knew not to argue with her mother's sister. Ellen followed them out of the room, and below stairs. A tiny smile turned up the corners of her mouth as she imagined how hard it would be for Kitty to stifle her curiosity. The smile quickly vanished, when they reached the entrance of the hall. Ellen was stunned to see so many more people than had been present earlier in the
day. Hugh approached them.

  ” Margaret, Kitty, you are to join me at table. Ellen, the king has invited you to sit at his table."

  Ellen looked up at her father. “It should be you, Papa. After all, you are a duke. Can I not decline his invitation?"

  "'Tis not possible without giving offence. And we can not afford to displease him when we do not know why we have been summoned."

  "We must do as the king has ordered.” Margaret laid an assuring hand on Ellen's arm. “Do not worry. All will be well."

  Ellen nodded and turned to follow the page standing beside her father, glancing back to see her family move in the opposite direction. The boy guided her to the dais and motioned her to be seated to the left of the queen. She curtseyed to the queen then took the seat indicated. An empty space remained between Ellen and the next person.

  Diners at the lower tables looked up and stared at her, whispering to one another. Ellen could imagine what they thought. She was in mourning. She gently slid her hands along the folds in her skirt and smoothed them out, then nervously placed her folded hands in her lap and stared down at the table. Ellen wanted to search the hall for her family, to be in their company. She fought the impulse to run to them. She would not embarrass her father.

  "I see by your dress that what my husband tells me is true, you are in mourning?” Queen Isabella spoke softly, her tone encouraged Ellen to answer.

  "Yes, Your Highness, for my husband and my brother.” Again conscious of the frock she wore, Ellen kept her answers short for fear of saying the wrong thing.

  "Then yours is a double sorrow. I am sorry for your loss."

  "Thank you, Your Highness."

  "What was your husband like? Were you married long?"

  "No, Highness, we were married but a few short months, then he sent me home.” Tears glistened in Ellen's eyes. “I will never know the true reason he did that, nor can I ever forgive him. But he is gone now, and reasons no longer matter."