“Mother! Father!” Kate called out.
“Lady Catherine!” Mildred came rushing from the kitchen at the back of the house. She looked flushed and nervous as she curtsied to Kate and Hugh.
“Mildred, where are my parents?” Kate asked. She looked around anxiously. “Where’s everyone?”
“Yer lady mother hasn’t left her bed since news of the battle reached us,” Mildred explained. “Lord Dancy is with her, and the servants are in the kitchen, having their supper. Yer father sent out all the men to search for ye, after ye failed to turn up, me lady, except Isaiah, on account of him being too old.”
“Osbert died,” Kate explained.
“Aye, we know. Matthew found him by the side of the road and brought him back to be buried. Yer father thought ye might have been taken hostage.” Mildred gazed warily at Hugh, unsure of his role in Kate’s disappearance.
“Mildred, this is Hugh de Rosel. He was kind enough to escort me home and will, of course, be spending the night. Please have a bedchamber prepared, and we’d like some supper. I need to see my parents, Hugh,” Kate said apologetically.
“Of course, my lady. I’ll wait in the parlor, if I may.”
“I’ll light the candles and get the fire going,” Mildred fussed, flustered at being caught unprepared. “If ye come this way, sir.”
Mildred led Hugh into the parlor and threw open the shutters. The purpling shadows of twilight filled the empty room, but did little to chase away the melancholy mood that seemed to permeate the house. Hugh lowered himself onto a wooden settle by the empty hearth and crossed his legs, the very picture of patience and calm.
Kate hitched up her skirts and sprinted up the stairs. Her heart squeezed with anxiety, but she was grateful to be home at last. She stopped in front of the closed door to her mother’s solar and took a deep breath before knocking.
“Come,” Gerard Dancy called out.
“Father, it’s me,” Kate said as she stepped into the room.
“Oh, Kate, praise the Lord,” Gerard breathed as he came forward to wrap her in a fierce embrace. “We thought we’d lost you. Didn’t we, Anne?”
He addressed his wife, but Anne didn’t respond. She lay quiet and still among the blankets, her face pale and twisted in the meager candlelight.
“Where have you been, Kate? I sent Matthew, Glen, and Cecil to look for you. They found Osbert’s body, but no trace of you,” her father added gruffly. “He looked to have died of natural causes.”
“After Osbert took ill and died, I set off for home on my own. I came across several knights returning from Towton,” Kate explained.
“You met knights on the road?” her father demanded, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“Yes. One of them was gravely wounded, so I stayed to tend to him. His brother, Hugh de Rosel, escorted me home. He’s downstairs in the parlor.”
“Is he King Edward’s man?” her father asked.
“No. They fought for King Henry.”
Gerard glowered. “You dare to bring a Lancastrian knight into my household?”
“Father, Hugh de Rosel has been nothing but gallant and kind. I could hardly ask him to leave without inviting him in.”
Gerard Dancy shook his head in dismay. “I suppose we’ll have to put him up for the night. But in the morning, he leaves.”
“I understand,” Kate replied. She had no wish to talk about Hugh. There was so much in her heart. Her father didn’t hold with sentiment or tears, but Kate needed to express her sorrow and offer him whatever comfort she could. “Father, I heard about…” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t bear to say the words aloud.
Gerard Dancy bowed his head in grief. “I never imagined… Your poor mother… I don’t know how we’ll get through this, Kate. It’s too much to bear.”
“What’s wrong with Mother?”
“Your mother suffered some sort of apoplexy when she found out about the boys,” her father replied, not bothering to lower his voice. “Her entire right side is immobile, and she can barely speak or eat. She sleeps most of the time, and even when she wakes, she’s confused and lost in her own waking nightmare.”
“Oh, Father,” Kate said, taking his hands in hers. “I will tend to her. She will get better in time. I know she will.”
“We must look to the future,” Gerard said, pulling his hands out of Kate’s grasp. “We must survive.”
“Father, will you not come down and meet Hugh?” Kate asked. It seemed rude to leave Hugh all alone in the parlor, but her father shook his head.
“Maybe later.”
Kate nodded. It was pointless to argue with her father when he was in such depressed spirits. She walked over to the bed and kissed her mother’s cold cheek. “I’m home, Mama. Can you hear me?” But her mother didn’t respond. Her face was as still and white as a stone effigy, and her hands, which had always been white and elegant, looked like gnarled claws atop the counterpane. Kate smoothed back her mother’s hair. It had been a rich auburn, like her own, but now thick streaks of silver framed her face. Kate hardly recognized the woman in the bed.
“See to your guest,” Gerard ordered. “And tell Mildred to send up some food. I’m famished.”
“Won’t you join us for supper, Father?” Kate tried again, but her father glared at her and turned away, not bothering to respond.
Kate returned downstairs to find Hugh gazing out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned and smiled at her, clearly surprised to find her alone.
“I’m sorry, Hugh, but my mother is ill, and my father doesn’t want to leave her side. Looks like it will be just you and me for supper,” she said, hoping that didn’t sound improper.
“I actually prefer it that way,” Hugh replied. “I was a bit nervous about meeting your father,” he confessed. “I thought he might be angry with me for detaining you instead of sending you home straight away.”
“He was worried for my safety.” Given her father’s mood, he’d likely never meet Hugh de Rosel, so there was little point in mentioning Lord Dancy’s displeasure. Hugh would be gone soon enough, his part in Kate’s disappearance forgotten. “I’ll tell Mildred to serve supper now, since my father won’t be joining us. You must be hungry.”
“I am,” Hugh admitted.
Kate led Hugh into the dining room and took a seat opposite him as Mildred brought out a platter of sliced pork, fresh bread, and buttered parsnips.
“I’m sorry, me lady, but Cook didn’t have time to prepare anything more fitting. We wasn’t expecting guests.”
“I’m perfectly happy with pork and parsnips,” Hugh assured her, smiling pleasantly. “And the company more than makes up for the lack of delicacies.”
Kate blushed, unaccustomed to this side of Hugh. Perhaps now that he was done with soldiering for a while, he was behaving more like his normal self.
They shared a pleasant meal, and then Kate excused herself and went upstairs, leaving Hugh to enjoy a cup of wine in the parlor. She was tired from the long journey, and worried for her mother. Once Hugh left, she would dedicate all her time to nursing her mother back to health.
Kate decided to stop by her mother’s chamber before going to sleep. Her father wasn’t there. Perhaps he had retired. Kate sat on the side of the bed and took her mother’s hand. It felt brittle and cold.
“Mama,” Kate called. “Mama, it’s me.”
“Katie,” her mother breathed. “My Katie.”
“I’m home, Mama. I’ll look after you.”
Anne Dancy shook her head as silent tears slid down her cheeks. “Don’t want to…”
“Don’t want to what?”
“Don’t want to go on,” Anne muttered. Her speech was slurred, but Kate could still make out her words.
“Mama, don’t say such things. I’ll be here with you.”
Anne shook her head again. “No, you won’t, Katie.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Kate, obey your father. Don’t antagonize h
im. He’s heartbroken.”
“I know. I’ll be a dutiful daughter to him. I always have been.”
“I’ll go to my boys,” Anne mumbled as her eyelids fluttered. “They need me.”
Anne was asleep within moments, leaving Kate more depressed than before. She adjusted the counterpane and bent down to kiss her mother’s forehead. “Don’t leave me, Mama,” Kate whispered. “Please, don’t leave me.”
Kate turned when Mildred entered the room, carrying a candle. “I’ll sit with her now, me lady. Ye must be worn out from yer journey.”
“Where’s Master de Rosel?”
“He’s still in the parlor, me lady. His chamber is all made up for him. I told him so. Ye go on now.”
There was nothing for Kate to do but go to bed. She snuggled beneath the blankets, but despite the feathery embrace of the mattress and the softness of the pillows, she couldn’t get comfortable, not after sleeping on a narrow wooden cot for more than two years with only a threadbare blanket for warmth. The bed was too soft, the room too warm, and the atmosphere in the house heartbreakingly melancholy. Kate hadn’t expected a happy homecoming, but the reality was even bleaker than she’d prepared for. She felt weepy and hollow, and strangely out of place in her own home.
She closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come. She tried to recall happy times with her brothers, to honor their memory, but Guy de Rosel was the last person she thought of before falling asleep. His face appeared to her, clear as day, and the anguish she felt at the thought of never seeing him again took her by surprise, possibly because he was as lost to her as if he were dead.
Chapter 17
Kate woke with a start. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep. For a brief moment, she thought it was time for the Midnight Office prayer, or Matins, but quickly remembered she was no longer at the priory. What had woken her was the opening of the door, followed by footsteps.
As her father approached the bed, the light of a single candle illuminated the lower half of his face, giving it a demonic appearance.
“Is it Mother?” she gasped, sitting up.
Gerard set down the candle on a bedside table and leaned over Kate. The anger burning in his eyes frightened her. “Did he force you?” he demanded.
“What? Who?”
“Did Hugh de Rosel force himself on you?” her father repeated, his face so close, Kate could smell wine on his breath. .
“No, he didn’t.” Her mind had been muddled with sleep, but now she was fully awake. She drew back from her father and pulled the counterpane to her chest, clutching at it with all her might in a desperate but vain effort to protect herself.
He slapped her hard across the face and she cried out in shock as her head spun to the side, blood filling her mouth when she bit her tongue.
“Father, what have I done?” Kate cried as he towered over her.
Her father didn’t answer. He dragged her out of bed and pushed her down on the cold floor. She thought he might kick her and she curled into a ball to protect her middle, but he stood aside, panting with fury.
“Whore!” he spat out. “Get out of my house and never return. You’re useless to me now. You’re soiled.”
“Father, I…”
“Get out!” he roared. “If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.” He grabbed the candle and stormed from Kate’s bedchamber, leaving her bewildered and shaking with shock.
What had she done? Why did he think she was soiled? Kate hastily pulled on her clothes, stuck her feet in her shoes, grabbed her cloak, and ran downstairs.
Hugh was in the yard, their horses saddled and ready. “Come, Catherine. We’ll bide at the inn tonight, and tomorrow, I will return and try to reason with your father.”
“What on earth did you say to him?” Kate cried as he gave her a leg-up and handed her the reins.
“I asked him for your hand in marriage,” Hugh replied as he swung into the saddle. “I told him that I’d had the honor of getting to know you over the past few days and wished to spend my life with you.”
Kate stared at him. “Is that all you said?” She couldn’t begin to understand why Hugh would ask her father for her hand. Lord Dancy was a staunch Yorkist, cousin to the Earl of Warwick, and distant kin to the new king. He would never consider a suit from someone whose rank was beneath his own, particularly an avowed supporter of the House of Lancaster.
“Of course,” Hugh replied, sounding deeply offended. “What else could I have said?”
“My father seems to have misinterpreted your meaning,” Kate replied, her voice shaking with anger, hurt, and confusion. Only a few days ago she had been at the priory, her life measured, ordered, and calm, and now her father, who professed to love her, had accused her of being a whore and cast her out when she’d done absolutely nothing wrong, other than help a wounded man.
“Please don’t worry, Catherine. I will speak to your father in the morning, but in the meantime, I will look after you, just as I did for the past few days. You are safe with me.”
Kate had no choice but to follow Hugh out of the yard and toward the road to Belford. She didn’t cry, but her insides twisted with misery and she wanted nothing more than to turn around, run up to her mother’s bedchamber and beg her father to listen to her. He’d misunderstood, that was all. He would forgive her and apologize for the awful things he’d said to her.
But her bruised cheek told a different story. Surely her father should have known her better, or if he didn’t, could have at the very least given her a chance to explain—not that there was anything to explain. She was innocent of any wrongdoing, as was Hugh. The most he’d done was help her mount her horse and dismount when they arrived. He had taken no liberties. He hadn’t so much as touched her hand or looked at her with anything other than respect. He was Henry VI’s man, that was true, but that didn’t make him a blackguard.
When they arrived at the inn, all was quiet and dark. The shutters were closed against the night and the stable door was bolted. Thick clouds obscured the moon and fat drops of rain were just beginning to fall, a downpour imminent. Kate slid into Hugh’s waiting hands and he set her on the ground and drew her cloak closer around her body as her teeth chattered with cold and anxiety. He threw the horses’ reins to a bleary-eyed boy who’d materialized out of the darkness, then banged on the door of the inn until the proprietor came to answer, wearing nothing but his nightshirt.
“We need two rooms,” Hugh commanded as he pushed past the man and drew Kate inside, out of the rain. The man followed them into the small parlor, his candle casting a pool of light on his tired face.
“I’m sorry, sir, but there’s just the one room. The bed is big enough for you and your lady wife,” the man added, as though reluctant to let them leave now that they’d woken him up.
“One room?” Kate balked.
“We’ll take it,” Hugh replied and dropped a coin into the man’s outstretched hand. He turned to Kate. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You’ve nothing to fear from me, Catherine.”
Kate and Hugh followed the innkeeper to the upper story and into the room. “’Tis the best room in the house, sir,” the innkeeper said proudly, pointing to the four-poster bed with an embroidered tester and a thick quilt. The mullioned window offered a view of the village green during the day, but at the moment, it was a black rectangle streaming with rainwater. Not a chink of light could be seen, with every house in the village tightly shuttered for the night. It was like gazing into an abyss—or perhaps the abyss was in Kate’s soul. She’d never felt as adrift as she did at that moment, not even when she’d been lost on the road to Belford. Then, she’d had a home to return to. Now, she didn’t belong to anyone.
“You and your lady will be comfortable here. Shall I have some hot water sent up?” the innkeeper asked. “Or some food?”
“There’s no need,” Hugh replied as he unbuckled his sword belt and threw his cloak over a chair. “Leave us.”
“Good night, sir. Madam.” The man bowed l
ow and left them alone.
“Take the bed, Lady Catherine. I’ll bed down on the floor.”
“I’ll take the floor,” Kate said miserably. “I won’t be able to sleep anyway.”
“Of course you will. You need your rest. Now come, let me help you with your cloak.” Hugh opened the clasp of Kate’s cloak and tossed the garment next to his own. He then bent down and removed her shoes and set them beside the bed. “Lay your head,” he said gently. “It will all come out all right in the end.”
Kate hadn’t meant to give in to her grief, but tears of hurt and anger slid down her cheeks. “He’ll never forgive me,” she cried, “especially not once he finds out that I shared a room with you tonight. I must go,” she exclaimed, but Hugh’s strong hands on her forearms stopped her.
“Catherine, darling, there’s nothing wrong with us sharing a room. ’Tis the only one left, and we are betrothed, you and I.”
“Are we?” Kate asked, staring at Hugh in confusion.
“Of course. Your father gave his consent, before he evicted me from the house,” Hugh added with a sad smile. “He won’t have you dishonored in the eyes of the world. He’d rather have you married to the likes of me.”
“I haven’t done anything to bring dishonor on my family,” Kate argued.
“Of course you haven’t. You’re beautiful, and pure, and kind,” Hugh said, brushing a stray curl out of her eyes. He leaned in and gave her a feather-light kiss on her lips. “You saved Guy’s life, and now you can save mine.”
Kate stared up at him, confused.
“Oh, Kate, I have been lonely for a long time. You brought something out in me, a depth of feeling I didn’t realize I was possessed of. I want to love and protect you. I want you to be mine,” he whispered as he pushed her back onto the counterpane.
The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past Book 4) Page 10
