The Clearing

by Lina J. Potter

  I see. It’s just fine for me to speak with the pastor, but Damis is too special to sit in the same room with Mark.

  Over the past few days, Lily and the pastor had struck up something like a friendship. He came to see her twice a day: in the morning, they prayed for the Earton estate, and in the evening, they prayed for the wellbeing of the earl. Lily found that she could pray sincerely for the good of the estate without crossing her fingers, but those evening prayers for her husband tried her patience. If she was honest, she hoped the earl never came home.

  It would be so ideal if I could just tell him to take this marriage and shove it. But I can’t.

  Lily didn’t pray with the pastor just to score points with him. She was quietly pulling information out of him about marital laws and customs. Was it possible to get a divorce, and if so, how would one go about it? During her trip to Altver, she had been too busy with her business affairs to make proper inquiries. Now, she had the time and a good source to consult.

  Emma and Martha were good for certain kinds of information, but they led fairly narrow lives. So, Lily, when she sat in on Mirrie’s lessons, made a point of “testing” the tutors’ knowledge by asking them all sorts of questions. In fact, she was doing everything she could to expand her knowledge of this new world.

  I’ve got no newspapers, no internet and no Wikipedia.

  Everything she needed to know had to be carefully obtained from conversations with people, and those people could not be allowed to suspect anything. Lily knew that she was already courting suspicion. The pastor would be hurt if Mark was barred from the lessons, so Lily narrowed her eyes.

  Damis Reis saw the change in her expression and took a step back.

  “If you don’t like it here, then get out.” Her voice was icy. “As long as my husband pays your salary, you will teach whomever I want as often as I tell you to. And you will do it gladly. Mirrie and Mark will soon be joined by the Virmans’ children. You will teach them, as well. You will be polite to them, and you will give them your very best. Be sure that I will be checking up on you. And keep in mind that we have four tutors at the castle, so there are plenty of people to teach your lessons if you don’t wish to do so. Have I made myself clear?”

  Damis shuddered. Lily gave him another sharp look and turned to leave. Her braid flew up and hit him in the face.

  Damis watched the countess disappear around the corner.

  He didn’t know what made him angrier, that she had cut him off in the middle of his prepared speech or that she had issued him an order as if he were a servant.

  Can’t she see how charming I am? I put on all my best clothes and even sprayed some cologne on my collar.

  He would have been deeply offended if he had known that Lily thought he smelled like a trash pile with a little stick of incense burning on top.

  Prince Richard of Ativerna made himself comfortable in his carriage. He hoped he would have time for a nap. He and Jess had been at a ball honoring his arrival the night before. Tarima was a small city, but it had a high society of sorts, and high society demanded dancing at the town hall. Richard had danced and practiced the art of diplomacy until midnight. Afterwards…

  Jess had urged him to visit the local brothels with him, but Richard declined. He most decisively did not want to catch anything unpleasant. So, instead of a prostitute, he took the young wife of one of the local barons back to his rooms with him so he could release some tension. She had an insatiable appetite, and after six hours of uninterrupted delight he gave her a parting gift of a sapphire bracelet. When she left in the early morning, he was spent, physically and mentally.

  Richard always preferred to exercise his appetites with caution. For one thing, it carried less of a risk to his reputation. The baroness would never gossip about her night with the prince because she would fear her husband’s retribution. Even though Richard wasn’t committed to the idea of marrying Anna of Wellster, he would do all he could to avoid untoward gossip while in her father’s kingdom.

  Upon reflection, Richard was grateful that his father had given him a choice of Anna or Lidia. In his grandfather’s day, no one would have asked his opinion on the matter of his future wife. As a matter of fact, Richard’s grandfather had orchestrated his grandson’s engagement to Daniella of Avesterra when the two were just children. The old king had distrusted both Wellster and Ivernea, preferring an alliance with Avesterra instead. When he died, Edward had not moved to break off the engagement. Instead, he waited. And while he waited, he began to demonstrate a certain coolness toward Avesterra.

  His waiting paid off. Six years later, Daniella came down with a serious illness after going out hunting in the pouring rain. She took to her bed and her condition worsened. The Avesterran royal family was distraught when the kingdom’s best medicus announced that the young princess would never be able to have children. Her lungs had been seriously affected, and pregnancy would be too great a risk

  Edward expressed his condolences, but was firm that his son would not marry a girl who could not give him an heir. As a consolation, he offered one of his daughters in marriage to an Avesterran prince.

  King Leonard the Third of Avesterra was incensed when Edward backed out of the arrangement, but he had no good cards to play. An entire commission had pronounced the girl unsuitable for childbearing. Then he took the desperate step of offering his own daughter, Larisia, but that idea was negated by the church. (Leonard was the brother of Imogene of Avesterra, Edward’s wife. Daniella was the youngest daughter of his uncle, whom he had succeeded, which put her far enough away from Richard on the family tree to make a marriage between them possible. Larisia, however, was his cousin and could never be his bride.

  As a young man, this story turned Richard into a fervent follower of Aldonai. He had seen Larisia’s portrait – she was pale and colorless, with a long face, a suspiciously magnificent pile of hair, and an evil twist to her smile that even the painter could not conceal (despite the fact that he was an experienced artist who specialized in aristocratic portraits).

  In a word, Richard was horrified and thanked his father fervently for ensuring that the church prevented the match.

  He felt sorry for Daniella, but he felt even sorrier for himself. He did not want to follow in his father’s footsteps, tethered to one woman and loving another. Patience was a fine quality, of course, but Richard didn’t think he could spend decades looking tenderly into the eyes of a woman he didn’t love. He wouldn’t wish a fate like that on his worst enemy.

  Richard didn’t remember his mother. Jessie – warm, kind, soft – was the only mother he knew. He understood how fortunate his father had been to find her, and he hoped to someday be as fortunate.

  Richard loved his cousin. Unlike his father, however, he clearly saw Jess’ shortcomings. If he wanted to, he could be talented and hardworking, intelligent and serious, especially if he saw that his own wellbeing depended on it. In other situations, when Jess was displeased he could be as stubborn as a donkey. Richard had seen him dig in and insist on having his way when compromise would have made more sense. He could even get ugly when crossed.

  His second shortcoming, in Richard’s eyes, was that he couldn’t leave pretty women alone. He was charming, wealthy and young, so there were always women at court looking to play at intrigue with him. Most of them were either married or saddled with unsavory reputations, but they couldn’t leave him alone. As a result, Jess concluded that he was irresistible.

  Richard had enjoyed a different upbringing. His father had always taken him along to meet with ambassadors and advisors, explaining afterwards why he made certain decisions and concessions. Jess never had that kind of training. Now that they were grown, Richard noticed that he saw a great deal more in people’s interactions than Jess did. He also knew that he had a heavy duty to bear, while Jess was still interested in satisfying his own desires.

  That Adele, for example.

  Richard grimaced. She was attractive, but not to his liking. So
mething about her reminded him of spoiled meat served in a complicated sauce – it may look good, but it’s inedible.

  What does he see in her?

  Richard would never have looked at Adelaide twice, but Jess was already involved in what looked to be a serious affair with her. That was bad. As a rule, Richard believed that a man with a family should honor that family. He knew that Jess’ wife was unattractive and shy, but he didn’t feel that gave his cousin the right to ignore her.

  After all the affairs he’s had with other women, he could at least give his wife some flowers and read her some poetry. Not Jess. He just digs in like a donkey and says he doesn’t like her. I wonder if he’s ever done anything to make her like him?

  Chapter 4

  Lily’s days were lived at a hectic pace. Everything required her attention and everybody needed to be managed, starting with the village elders: Ian Leig, Art Virdas, Erk Grismo, Sherl Ferney and Fred Darcy.

  Which one is it? Which one of them was Etor’s accomplice?

  Lily called for Art Virdas first, but she learned almost nothing from him. Under pressure (a melancholy Olaf stood behind him and kept a hand on his axe), Art confessed that the people in his village weren’t as bad off as he had indicated. He also admitted that they had used the mill when the countess was away. There might be some men that poached, and a few trees may have been cut down on the countess’ land. That was unavoidable. But there had been no murders and no serious thefts for a while. Art promised with a hand over his heart.

  The other four elders repeated much the same story, but in different words. Lily was furious.

  All those mystery novels I read over the years, and none of them worth anything! I’d like to see Mr. Holmes sit in my chair here in this old castle and puff at his pipe and say, “Watson, you’re mistaken. Art had nothing to do with it at all. The man you want is Fred.”

  Lily didn’t particularly care which of the men was Etor’s accomplice. What angered her was that she couldn’t figure out the answer. She was a doctor, not a detective. The only result of her private conversations with them was that they carried themselves more cautiously around her. Lily suspected that the trouble was of her own making. She didn’t know what to ask them and how to ask it.

  Sooner or later the truth will out…

  Since she couldn’t make headway untangling Etor’s treachery, she turned to other estate affairs, of which there were many.

  Jaimie had been sent to look for more haircap moss around the bogs, and he came back with a piece of peat for her to examine. As soon as she saw it, Lily sent out a large group of peasants to find as much of it as they could.

  Peat was an excellent source of fuel and could also be used to insulate the peasants’ cottages, so Lily told them they could keep half of what they collected. Inspired by such generous terms, the peasants soon had large piles of peat lined up around the castle. Lily detailed the lazy peasants who had been sold into slavery to dry the peat and stack it under open-sided sheds they had built.

  If only the weather holds for a few more weeks.

  Lily didn’t know what to expect from the local winter. Lilian Earton’s memories contained sensations of extreme cold, but Lily knew she was tougher than her predecessor: she could handle temperatures as low as negative thirty without flinching. It was still early autumn, warm and surprisingly dry, so she made the best possible use of her time.

  Soon a runner arrived with news from Leif, who was overseeing construction of the smokehouse and salt pits down where the Earta River flowed into the sea. Lily had intended for the work buildings and cottages to be made of wood, but Leif rejected the idea. Boards would have to be split and dried, and they didn’t have the time. The runner told Lily that instead, they were using stones in the Virman style. They already had the skills, and stones were plentiful.

  Lily tried to remember the ingredients that went into cement.

  I think you have to heat lime and clay… We can do without quicklime and silicate. It won’t be great, but it will be better than nothing.

  Best of all, Leif had sent the runner with sacks of the special things she had asked for: fine, white sand for making glass, limestone, something that she hoped was feldspar, and several lumps of a greenish clay that she could easily work with her fingers. He had also sent her several small pieces of amber.

  Lily wasn’t sure if amber was considered valuable in her new world, so she asked Emma. The housekeeper didn’t know what Lily was talking about at first, but when shown the small samples she nodded vigorously – they were worth their weight in gold.

  For Lily, however, the most valuable thing Leif sent her was a rock with a seam of something black running through it.

  Coal! There is coal down at the shore!

  She had hoped that would be the case. There were steep cliffs above the coast, and the rest of the estate was boggy. The local geology reminded Lily of what she had learned about England.

  I need to train dogs to hunt for coal. Actually, if I get desperate enough I’ll do it myself – and I’ll howl like the best of them.

  She would write back to Leif that he must keep his eyes open and send her absolutely anything of interest.

  The sand and lime could both be used for glassmaking, while lime and clay together would make a serviceable cement that would speed up her repairs around the castle. Finding the right ratio would take time, but Lily enjoyed a good experiment. Since amber was worth good money, she would ask Leif to see if he could find more. Helke would be pleased if they found a good source.

  And coal! That means heat for the castle and graphite pencils and all sorts of other things!

  Lily was dizzy with ideas. She would have loved to run away from the castle and spend several days digging around on the beach, but she had an image to maintain. For that purpose, she continued to attend Mirrie’s lessons with Maria Reichart. Soon it became clear that she was doing everything wrong: she didn’t even know the correct way for a countess to walk.

  Thankfully I live out in the sticks where there aren’t any aristocrats to notice. The peasants just think I’m odd. If there were anyone here who knew better, I’d be in serious trouble. Like my husband, for example…

  That thought led Lily down a pathway of other, even less appealing ruminations. She now knew for certain that she was her husband’s property. Everything she did, all of her work, all of her ideas, belonged to him, too. Jess Earton would be a fool not to take it all from her. She thought of it as poker: he had four of a kind, and she had nothing.

  Lily had gained her information slowly, a piece at a time, from Pastor Vopler. As they conversed on various topics, she learned that a woman could only own property that a man gave her. A widow with a son or a woman whose husband had willed his assets to her had a tiny bit of freedom, at least until her male relatives found out. A woman’s father, brother, uncle or cousin could get in the way. Even her father-in-law’s neighbor’s brother’s wife’s nephew could tell her what to do. They could marry her off again if they wanted.

  Several times the pastor had asked her if she had her husband’s blessing for all of her activities. Lily had nodded, but she was constantly worried about her long-term security.

  She weighed all her options, from running away to becoming a widow. Lily didn’t want to share her projects with anyone.

  How’s that for you? I’m out here running myself into the ground and he could just show up with his mistress and sit down to eat the fruits of my labor. I don’t know when he’ll be back, but I know the day will come.

  Divorce was always uppermost in her mind, but it would be no easy feat, even if she cared nothing for her reputation afterwards. In her new world, divorce was possible in just four instances:

  1. If the marriage was fruitless, meaning that both spouses admitted they were unable to have children.

  2. If the marriage was not consummated. This would mean that either the count was impotent or his wife suffered fits of hysteria whenever he entered their bedroom. The
re had to be witnesses to the hysteria, and it had to last for more than a year. Pastor Vopler told Lily of a case where a woman was “treated” for almost a year with lectures, herbal remedies and cleansing treatments. Lily suspected that after that kind of treatment, the woman probably thought that sex was a form of torture;

  3. If one of the spouses committed adultery. The guilty party had to be caught in the act with his pants down (or her skirt up), and he or she had to be detained that way long enough for a person of authority to arrive and act as a witness. Since Jess Earton was the highest authority on the estate, she would essentially have to catch him and his mistress in the capital and call in a royal envoy as witness. Lily could just imagine the scene. “Your Majesty, this is my husband. The woman lying under him is Adelaide Wells. I believe this proves his unfaithfulness. May I have my divorce now?”

  4. If one of the spouses decided to serve Aldonai. Lily had no intention of joining a convent, and she didn’t feel up to the task of sending Jess to a monastery. Poisoning him would be easier.

  In short, the first and the fourth options wouldn’t work, and she was doubtful about the second and third options. Lily was confident she could give a good impression of hysteria, but that would prevent her from running her various business and household affairs. And there was always the risk that the count would react by raping her or having her beheaded. The stakes were too high. Lily suspected that her husband would find a way to impregnate her again just so he could hold on to her father’s boatyards.

  The only remaining option was to prove adultery. The adultery couldn’t be hers – even if she had the time and the interest – because it was too dangerous. If he caught her in bed with another man, the earl could throw her out the window if he liked without fear of repercussions.

  After much thought, Lily concluded that she would have to try to negotiate with him peacefully. When led onto the topic of the earl, the pastor gave out information in bits and pieces. Lily learned that her husband was intelligent. He was good looking and an excellent hunter. He excelled at fencing. He studied the Book of Aldonai. These observations were interesting, of course, but ultimately unsatisfying. She needed to know about his personality. Was he domineering and authoritarian? If not, she would try to win him over. She would even promise him an heir.