by Barb Hendee
“Betty says there is a problem with the fish?” I asked, stepping through the archway.
Lavonia turned with her usual poorly hidden sneer. “They’re spoilt. We can’t use them.”
Ester stopped rolling, and everyone was listening to us.
My nerves were already on edge, and I didn’t have time for this nonsense. “I checked them myself upon delivery. Those fish were caught this morning.”
“They’re down in the cellar, in the coolest room,” Lavonia said. “You want to come down with me to check them?”
Her eyes had narrowed and something in her voice caught my attention. My encounter with Jarrod had given away a part of myself that I would have preferred to leave behind. More, I had just promised him that I’d never read anyone without his orders, and all my instincts went against even considering such a thing.
Reading someone else’s intentions tired me quickly, and I could only do one thorough reading a day before I was spent. Tonight, Jarrod would expect me to do a deep reading of Allemond, so I couldn’t do a deep reading of Lavonia now.
Still, in this moment, I had little doubt that she was up to something.
Reaching out, using minimal effort, I tried to pick up only her surface thoughts, hoping I would see something useful without expending myself too much.
A nearly overwhelming flash of hatred hit me like a wall. I fought to keep my expression still. She hated me with a passion. Her life had been easy before my arrival, and she saw me as an overbearing taskmaster who had changed her life for the worse. Then I saw an image, a plan of her leading me alone to check the fish. They would be the same fresh salmon I’d already checked.
But days ago, she’d charmed the son of a fish monger into selling her four salmon—for a low price—that she’d let spoil in the sun. I saw an image in her mind of her preparing and sending out the spoiled salmon for tonight’s dinner, and then in the aftermath, claiming she had warned me in front of all the kitchen staff, and that she’d shown me the spoiled fish, and I had insisted she serve it anyway.
She was going to ruin Jarrod’s dinner party and blame me.
I pulled from her thoughts and stared at her for a moment. She began to fidget.
Looking to Ester, I said, “If I send you Matilda to help chop vegetables, can you manage the dinner with the girls you have here, but without Lavonia?”
A flash of something nearly unreadable, possibly hope, crossed Ester’s eyes. “Yes, my lady. I can manage.”
I turned back to Lavonia. “You are dismissed. I’ll make sure you have a month’s wages, but if you are not gone from this house within an hour, I will have a guard escort you out the gates.”
Her mouth fell open, and her features twisted. “You can’t do that! I’ll tell Lord Jarrod!”
I briefly wondered if the girl was sharing Jarrod’s bed on occasion, but it hardly mattered. “And what if I show him the spoiled fish you’ve hidden behind the hen house?” I countered, “And of your plan to ruin his dinner for Lord Allemond?”
Ester’s face registered stark surprise but not disbelief.
Cora’s shone with guilt. She knew.
Lavonia went speechless.
“You have an hour,” I told her. “I’ll make sure you receive your wages.”
Going pale, Lavonia fled the kitchen, and my gaze drifted to Cora. “Do you wish to go with her?”
She drew in a sharp breath. “No, my lady.”
I looked about the room. “Ester is in charge here, and you will all address her as Miss Ester from now on. Anyone who cannot follow her instructions without complaint will follow the path of Lavonia.”
I nodded once to Ester and left the kitchen.
Even though I’d not probed Lavonia’s thoughts very deeply, I felt drained, knowing I should never put myself in a position to attempt two readings in a day. My head hurt. So did my wrist.
* * * *
That night, I sat at the dressing table in my room as Miriam curled my hair with her small heated iron. Instead of piling it up tonight, she let it hang loose but drew several strands in the front over my forehead and pinned them with a small jeweled clip. Finally she put touches of kohl at the corners of my eyes and beet juice on my lips.
I stood.
She’d finished my new gown that morning, and looking at myself in the mirror, I could hardly believe the results. The gown was of burgundy silk with a v-neckline. Tight at the waist, it swept down into a voluminous skirt that moved gracefully when I walked. Thankfully, it was long sleeved and covered my now black and purple wrist. I wore a ruby pendant with matching earrings—that had once belonged to Helena.
“I don’t look anything like myself anymore,” I commented.
“You look beautiful,” Miriam answered simply. “You should go down.”
“Thank, you, Miriam,” I said. “For the dress.”
She smiled tiredly. I knew she’d probably been up half the night.
Leaving my room, I headed downstairs and heard voices in the hall. My mother always allowed the guests to arrive before making an entrance, so I had decided to follow her example.
Stopping at the entrance to the hall, I looked in to take of stock of what awaited me. All four Volodanes were there, wearing the new clothing Betty and I had made for them—with some input from Sebastian.
I thought Kai looked especially fine in a sleeveless black tunic. It suited his tall form, and his long hair hung down past his shoulders.
Sebastian wore a high-collared jacket over a white shirt, and he cut a dashing figure. My husband and Jarrod both wore new tunics with long sleeves, and they looked well too.
The hall was clean and properly arranged. There were white cloths on the table along with porcelain plates, silver cutlery, and pewter goblets. I’d made centerpieces from wild growing roses and lilacs. For tonight, I’d had the cheerful spaniels housed in the barracks with several of the guards who’d promised to look after them.
My gaze drifted to the guests: Lord Allemond, his wife, Rosamund, and his brother, Phillipe. Several of the Volodane guards stood discreetly near the walls, along with several of the Monvílles’. This was customary.
Lord Allemond glanced at the table several times with what I could only describe as consternation. He was a striking man, in his late forties with an impressive head of waving silver hair. Lady Rosamund had once been considered lovely, but now her generous curves were thickening and her face was heavily lined. She wore diamonds and a velvet gown of dark green.
With a deep breath, I stepped forward and entered the hall.
Allemond was the first one to see me, followed shortly by everyone else, but I couldn’t help a stab of satisfaction at the flicker of uncertainty that passed over his face. “Megan?”
He recovered quickly.
I smiled and held out one hand—as my mother would have done. “My lord. It’s been too long.”
Jarrod stared at me as well. He’d never seen me with my hair down loose or wearing a v-neck dress.
Lady Rosamund must have been equally surprised by the sight of me, but she was a creature of my mother’s ilk and showed nothing besides false pleasure. “Megan,” she said, kissing my cheek. “We were saddened to hear of your sister’s passing and surprised to hear of your marriage.”
Her words were intended as sharp barbs, to point out that I was a secondary replacement in an unfortunate match, and even so, only here by virtue of my sister’s death. I smiled and kissed her in return. “Thank you for your kind thoughts. It’s so good to have guests in the hall.”
Phillipe, who was younger than his brother, leaned over and kissed my hand. “My dear,” he said, although in my entire life, he’d never taken notice of me before.
At the sight of this, Rolf’s face darkened, which surprised me. I’d hardly thought him capable of feeling jealousy. Perhaps it was merely ownership.
“Shall we all sit and enjoy some wine before dinner?” I asked.
This was the signal for everyone to be seated. Wine was always served before dinner at these gatherings. Jarrod said nothing and took his cues from me. He sat at the head of the table, and I made suggestions for everyone else.
Smiling at Lady Rosamund, I said, “I fear we are outnumbered by the men.”
At this, even her expression flickered with uncertainty. She’d sat across from me at a table many times, and she’d certainly never heard me attempt a playful comment. Until that moment, I’d not realized how much I had changed. Though it was not a change I’d wanted or asked for, I had been greatly altered by the expectations of Jarrod and even quiet Rolf. He never made requests, but I knew he wanted me to please his father.
As we all took our seats, Lord Allemond examined the porcelain dishes and pewter goblets.
“From Chaumont Manor, I assume?” he posed, sounding every inch a snob.
“Part of my dowry,” I answered diplomatically, “and I think they grace my new father’s table well.”
Allemond shifted in his chair. It was clear that none of this was playing out as he’d expected. He’d most likely expected to find me a shadow of my painfully quiet former self, abused and cowed by the brutes of Volodane Hall. He’d expected an embarrassing show on Jarrod’s part in attempting to host a dinner—a peasant with money playing at being a lord.
Betty and Matilda poured wine. It was from the best cask my parents had sent, but I made a mental note to talk to Jarrod soon about acquiring more. He would need decent wine if he planned to continue entertaining.
Phillipe and Lady Rosamund both took a sip, and I could see they were not pleased at its good quality.
Not long after, the fish course arrived. Again, Betty and Matilda quietly served.
I was so nervous that I wasn’t certain how much I could eat, but I did taste the salmon. It was perfect, just barely cooked through and still slightly moist. Lord Allemond tasted it and the displeased expression on his face brought me an embarrassing amount of satisfaction. He’d not expected the food to be perfect.
Glancing down the table, I could see Jarrod enjoying his guests’ smug disappointment. Seeing that, I tried to amend my attitude. It was unkind to take pleasure in the discomfort of others. But I knew my role here.
After that, as further courses were served, Sebastian took over the conversation. Neither Jarrod, Rolf, or Kai had anything to say to the Monvílles, but Sebastian was better at small talk, and he kept our guests suitably entertained. Lady Rosamund hung on his every word, and I couldn’t help noticing how her eyes continued to move from his hair, over his face, and down to his arms.
Poor Kai appeared especially uncomfortable in the mix, and he brightened only once when Phillipe spoke to him directly. “I’m sorry I didn’t arrange any matches for entertainment here tonight. There wasn’t time, but I’ve always been astonished watching you in the ring at Partheney.”
I had no idea what he meant by “match” or “ring,” but Kai actually smiled at him. “Thank you. Next time perhaps. We have plenty of room here.”
Before I could learn more about this, Rolf entered the conversation to ask about their wheat crop.
Somehow, we made it to dessert. No one had mentioned the land deal as of yet, but I knew the men would not discuss it over the table.
Then, just as we were finishing strawberry tarts with cream sauce, one of the Monvílle guards carried in a small harp. Watching this, Allemond frowned at his wife.
“Oh, my dear,” she said, sound strained. “I had quite forgotten.”
They must have given the guard instructions earlier.
“You brought a harp?” Sebastian asked.
That did seem odd.
“Yes . . .” Lady Rosamund began. “As a wedding gift. We have not heard Megan play in some time and hoped to impose upon her.” She looked at Jarrod. “Forgive my presumption, but I did not think you would posses such an instrument here.”
The Monvílles were then rewarded by the moment of discomfort on the part of the Volodanes, and I raced to think of what to say. No one had told them I played the harp. Of Helena’s many, many talents, music was not among them, and I had often entertained my parents’ guests. Even then, getting up in front of people had been difficult for me, but I obeyed my parents.
Once again, the Monvílles had hoped to embarrass Jarrod, probably thinking that I would be too shattered by my newfound existence to consider such a public display of myself. Even more, that the harp would look ridiculously out-of-place at Volodane Hall.
Looking directly at Jarrod, I said, “Father, would you like me to play?”
In this way, I placed him back in control of the situation, as if the decision to hear music tonight was entirely his.
He nodded.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow at me quizzically.
Standing, I went to the harp and settled myself. Then I drew upon the strings to test them. It was a good instrument. First, I played a lively, cheerful tune—or as lively as one can play on a harp—and I glanced over to see the astonishment on Jarrod’s face.
I should have told him before, but it had never occurred to me.
When I finished, Phillipe called out, “Sing us a ballad. The one about the girl who drowns.”
Lady Rosamund smiled tightly. “Of course. Megan has such a sweet, clear voice.”
Again, her words were barbs, for my voice would certainly never fill a large room, and she meant to point this out. But I could carry a tune and hit the highest notes with a pleasing sound as opposed to the screech of many young noblewomen.
Rolf and Kai glanced at each other in open surprise, as if uncertain this scene was playing out in their own hall.
When I began to sing, everyone fell silent. Even Betty and Matilda stopped moving. The ballad was a sad one about two star-crossed lovers who tried to escape their families, each one taking a different ship to meet up on the shores of another country.
The girl’s ship is caught is a storm, and she is lost.
In the last stanza, she speaks to her love:
When you look at the harsh waves
When you look at the sea
When your long life is ending
You will still see me
I allowed the final note to hang in the air. When I looked up, Rolf stared back at me, and then he began to clap. The others joined him quickly, even Kai.
“I think that might be enough music,” Lady Rosamund said.
By way of answer, Jarrod stood, and I was glad he knew enough to cue the others. It was customary after dessert and entertainment for the guests to walk about a dining hall, sipping wine, looking at tapestries, and visiting with one another.
I also knew this was the time the men would conduct business, and I quietly made my way to Jarrod, Rolf, and Lord Allemond where they stood near the hearth.
Discussion of the land purchase was already underway.
“I do think you should ride the day after next and meet me at the old hunting lodge,” Allemond was saying. “My gamekeeper swears some of the trees have bark beetles. I haven’t seen an issue, but with such rumors, it would be wise for both of us if you and Rolf come out and check for yourselves before money changes hands.”
Jarrod was a cautious man by nature, and he listened carefully. “The day after tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’m free that afternoon.”
The situation appeared straightforward enough. There had been a report of bark beetles, which would damage the value of any lumber taken out, and Allemond wanted Jarrod and Rolf to check trees at random themselves.
I was nervous. In the past, I’d occasionally tried to do two readings in a day and had sometimes failed in the second attempt. Though I was still drained from my reading that morning, I had no choice but to try here
. Focusing my mind, I reached out to connect with Allemond’s, and as had happened with Lavonia, a wall of emotion hit me. It was so strong I nearly lost my composure. Hatred and fear seethed through him. Bracing myself, I reached deeper until snippets of his thoughts grew clear.
No such men on the Council of Nobles . . .
Cannot be allowed to happen . . .
Nearly lost inside his mind, I felt the things he felt. He feared the Volodanes rising to greater power, and the events of tonight had driven his fear into panic. He saw Jarrod and Rolf as a threat, as brutish, uneducated men who could never be allowed to push themselves into the realm of civilized men or decisions that affected the nation.
His thoughts rolled forward to the suggested meeting, and I saw a clear image of a lodge surrounded by oak trees. He envisioned himself out front of the lodge, on his horse, with two other men, one on each side of him, and a few guards behind. Inside his mind, I took note of the two men at his sides.
One was enormous, with a dark beard and black leather armor, on a bay warhorse. The other was wiry with a scar on his forehead. He rode a great roan stallion.
Jarrod and Rolf soon entered his vision of what would play out, and they rode up with perhaps ten guards.
As they approached the lodge, dozens of men suddenly charged from the trees on horseback, swinging swords and surrounding them. Allemond envisioned himself just watching, but the two men with him rode into the fray.
The large, bearded man charged straight at Rolf, coming at him from behind as he fought two attackers on his right. This man took Rolf’s head off in the first swing. Several other men were rushing Jarrod . . .
I stumbled backward and pulled out of Allemond’s mind. I couldn’t look anymore. He dreamed of murdering Jarrod and Rolf. He was planning their deaths.
Rolf stepped toward me and reached out with one hand. “Are you all right?”
Faint from overtaxing myself, I tried to smile. “It’s nothing. Perhaps the fire is too warm?”
Neither of the other two men had even noticed.
“You’ll ride to meet me?” Allemond pressed. “The day after tomorrow?”
Though it was deftly done, Jarrod glanced at me. I shook my head once at him.
