Madame Alisoun downed another bottle and tossed it to the side. She had chosen an odd name, for she had never married and the only genteel thing about her was her aversion to work. Work was what Pippa and the other girls were for.
A knock on the door brought a chill to Pippa’s heart. Madame Alisoun answered the door with a slippery smile and welcomed in a well-dressed man. Pippa watched the proceedings from behind a tattered curtain, which divided the main room of what had once been a respectable farmhouse.
“Pippa, bring out the girls!” demanded Madame.
Several young girls crowded around Pippa, their eyes wide. They ranged in age from six to twelve years. Pippa, at seventeen, was the oldest. She was old enough to escape Madame Alisoun, but she refused to leave the young girls behind. What would happen to them without her? She shuddered at the thought.
“Do not fear. We will take care of him as we have the rest.” She held out a little bottle of tawny liquid and dropped it back into her pocket.
Pippa led the girls out before the man, who looked them over with a critical, if slightly inebriated, eye.
“That one.” He pointed at Emelye, a ten-year-old with large blue eyes and a creamy complexion marred by the garish red rouge Madame Alisoun applied.
Emelye looked up at Pippa, her eyes widening even more. Pippa gave her a confident nod. Emelye led the man to a small chamber, barely large enough to hold a bed. Pippa prepared a glass of wine with a liberal dose of the contents of her small bottle.
“For you, good sir, compliments of the house.” Pippa entered the room and handed the man the glass.
“Ah, this best be good.” He grabbed the glass and drank it down in a single gulp. “I’m paying good coin for this.”
“Then let me prepare this girl for your comfort,” Pippa said, without revealing too much of a growl. She grabbed Emelye’s hand and led her from the chamber.
“Do you think it will work?” whispered Emelye anxiously.
“It has never failed me,” Pippa whispered in return.
“Here now. I want my girl now!” The man emerged from the room, swaying on his feet.
“Run!” hissed Pippa to Emelye. She thrust herself between the drunk man and the young girl. He grabbed her and tried to toss her aside, but Pippa grappled him to the ground. They struggled until the man’s limbs grew weak and he lost consciousness, snoring loudly.
Pippa sat up, gasping at his side.
“Are you hurt?” asked Emelye.
“No, I am fine,” said Pippa, ignoring the bumps and bruises. “Let us strip him naked and lay him on the bed. Make him think he had quite the time, yes?”
“Do we take his purse?” asked the youngest girl, jangling the pouch in her hand.
“Of course,” answered Pippa. “Fool jackanapes deserves what he gets. Madame Alisoun will make up some excuse to charge him more.”
Pippa went about her work roughly. She cared not for the likes of men. They were all the same and all bad.
* * *
Gavin rode down the dusty road, the baby sleeping comfortably in the crook of his arm. The setting sun hastened his pace. The hour was late, and he needed to quickly find a home for the babe and return to camp. News had reached him that the English were taking more control of the coast, which could be disastrous to their plan of leaving by ship.
With this many English soldiers mucking about, it was only a matter of time before the whispers of an enormous fortune being driven down the road would reach their ears. Gavin had no illusions about his ability to defeat an English army intent on claiming an easy prize.
Gavin had heard tell of a woman who took in orphans. She was not far and it seemed the quickest way to rid himself of one difficulty. In truth, his mind was far from the small, wiggling bundle and more on the difficulties of having to try to find a way to get Colette and all her belongings into Scotland.
Gavin was so intent in all his musings that he almost missed the humble cottage by the side of the road. It was a strange little place. There was one main cottage, which must have been a farmhouse at one time but additional rooms had been added onto it. Each addition was made of slightly different construction, giving the house a disjointed feel. A rickety gate surrounded the house and an untended garden. A red silk banner was raised on a pole, flapping in the wind. Gavin was not sure what to make of the place.
Gavin dismounted, wrapped the reins of his destrier around the rickety gate with a flick of his wrist, and strode toward the main door, baby in hand. The door was flung open before he got a chance to knock. A woman stood at the door with greasy blond hair, a sharp mouth, and owlish eyes.
She looked him up and down and gave him a smile that was so cold he almost shuddered from the shock. “Welcome, welcome, good knight.” She rubbed her hands together. “I am Madame Alisoun. What will be your pleasure today?”
Though she beckoned him inside the house, Gavin’s feet refused to move. His very soul fought against entering and he was quite sure that this baby was not going to be left in her care. “Forgive me, madam, I have clearly come to the wrong house. I wish ye well. Good day.” He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm.
“No, good sir. Do not leave so hastily. I see you wish to have the finer things in life, no? Be not fooled by appearances. We can give you anything you wish.”
Gavin slowly turned to her. What he wished was for her to release his sleeve. A part of him wanted to make a run for it and ride back down the road, never looking back. But another part was afraid there was something here that needed to be revealed, something very wrong, which, if he did not investigate, would never be corrected. “And what, madam, do I desire?”
Her calculating smile widened. “But, look here, you brought us a present. If you please, do step inside. We can help you with this bundle if it be a girl bundle.”
“Ye only take girls?” Gavin was suspicious.
“Quite so, sir. Of course you would not want to leave this baby unprotected, uncared for. An arrangement most beneficial can be made.” She reached out for the child, but Gavin held the baby fast. He was not going to allow this woman of dubious intent to touch the child.
She gave him another cold smile and led him into the house. The main room was something odd. Dingy red drapes had been hung about the room, concealing much from view. The woman clapped her hands and out came three young girls.
The oldest might have been in her older teens, with the other girls progressively younger. The eldest girl stood in front, as if to protect the younger ones. Their hair was unkempt and their cheeks and lips had been rouged. Gavin’s stomach took an unpleasant lurch. He was very much afraid of where he had landed.
“Will you not sit, Sir Knight?” purred Madame Alisoun, pointing to a bench covered in velvet cushions with suspicious stains. “My girls, they can entertain you while we consider the price of caring for the precious baby.”
“So ye sell yer services to take care o’ young girls,” Gavin stated coldly. There was nothing in this world that could induce him to sit on one of the benches. “What else here is for sale, madam?”
The woman’s eyes turned from deep round orbs to narrow slits. “Anything you see that you like is for sale.”
Gavin took two large steps toward her, hardly able to contain his own fury. She took a step back, her eyes flying wide once more. “Aye,” he said with a growl. “Let us do business.”
* * *
Gavin rode back down the dusty road, the baby still cradled in his arm. It was night, his way lit only by the light of a half-moon. Though anxious to return to camp, he did not travel faster than a leisurely walk. Behind him a parade of five young girls followed him. The rescue had cost him all his coin and had left him saddled not only with one infant but five girls ranging in age from teens to six years old. He’d made a deal with Madame Alisoun and had not left the house as well as he had found it. She was grea
tly displeased to be deprived of her only source of income, but he very much insisted.
After their liberation, the girls all looked to the eldest, as if waiting on her decision as to whether or not to go with him. The teen, Pippa she called herself, held a knife almost hidden in the folds of her skirt.
“What you want with us?” she demanded.
“I wish to find ye all a safe home.”
Pippa gave him a shrewd look, her eyes blazing, but accepted his offer of freedom. “I will come with you because I like how you redecorated the house.” She glanced at the havoc he had wrought. “But if any part of you touches me or the girls, I will cut out your gizzard and eat it for supper, I swear it will be so.”
He gave the fierce creature a quick nod. He had no interest in coming anywhere near any of them. And yet he could not leave children in such a state.
The girls followed Pippa, looking rather bewildered, but very willing to leave the house. He needed to find homes for them, homes where they would not be subject to ill treatment, and he still needed to get Lady Colette and all her belongings and all her maids and all her soldiers to Scotland. Oh, and he still needed someone to care for the baby.
Gavin ran his hand though his hair in the distracted manner he had seen his uncle do many times. He had not understood the gesture when he was young. He did now. It had not been an easy day. But then again, he glanced back at his dazed charges, considering what others had endured, he could not complain.
He shook his head, trying to imagine what the captain of the guard or Colette would say to this strange addition to their party. He had gone to relieve them of one baby and was returning with an entire nursery!
He knew he was not making their journey any easier. He was supposed to be the knight who took care of things, ensuring their journey was a success, but instead he was adding complications and delay. He did not relish appearing incompetent in Colette’s eyes. But maybe, if he could quickly figure out a place the children could go, Colette would never have to know.
Twelve
Marie Colette lay awake on her cot, waiting for the return of Sir Gavin. He had not returned as soon as she’d expected. How long could it take to drop off one baby? Why she should be waiting for his return she did not know. It could not possibly be that she was concerned for his safety. He was quite capable of taking care of himself. Nor did she fear that he would abandon them. She knew in her heart he was a man of impeccable honor.
Despite telling herself firmly to go to sleep, she lay awake, listening for his return. Her maids lay around her asleep, guarding her as they were trained to do. Colette closed her eyes, folded her arms over her chest, and willed herself to sleep, but slumber is a fickle bedfellow and always runs away when actively sought.
Finally, she heard a rider approaching, but at first she did not believe it to be Gavin, for the horse came slowly, at a sedate walk. Gavin never walked his horse anywhere but galloped hither and yon wherever he went. As she listened intently, she heard the rumble of a low voice with a tone and tenor that could only be his. What had kept him? Something must be wrong.
Without considering the ramifications, she slid noiselessly from the bed and pulled on her silk robe, wrapping it around her. She wore her sleeping wimple, a plain white linen veil that covered her head and neck. Even in sleep, propriety had to be maintained. She tiptoed carefully around the sleeping forms of her maids, searching for a pair of slippers, but with only the moon illuminating the walls of the canvas tent, she was unable to find them. She gave up and stealthily crept around her maids, careful not to wake them.
She slipped out the tent and stopped at the shock of the cold grass on her bare feet. She tried to remember the last time her bare feet had touched the earth, but she could not recall. She must have been very young, or perhaps it had never been allowed. She scrunched her toes into the cool grass, relishing the feel of the earth between her toes. What would her ladies say if they saw her dirtying her feet in such a manner?
She wrapped her robe around herself tighter against the chill of the evening and walked quietly toward the sound of the male voices. It was a calm night. The waxing moon hung low in the night sky and a myriad of bright stars twinkled above her.
When the rumble of voices became discernible words, she stopped behind one of her wagons. Since she had already broken every rule by walking about barefoot, unguarded at night, she reasoned she might as well toss aside every stricture on her conduct and eavesdrop shamelessly on the conversation.
“Not sure what you expect us to do with them.” Captain Perrine spoke to Sir Gavin in a harsh whisper. “The English, they are on the move. This will only slow us down further, no?”
“I ken this comes at a bad time. But I coud’na leave them in such a shameful condition. As a Christian and a knight, my conscience bade me act. I did the only thing I could,” said Sir Gavin with his enticing, lyrical voice.
“I do not wish you to think me an unfeeling man. I have children of my own. But I fear we have more than we can handle simply trying protect our lady, let alone take care of anyone else.”
“Aye. That is why I hoped to find a solution soon. Tonight if possible. Do you know of anyone, anyplace that might help us?”
“I do not know. Perhaps Lady Colette—” suggested Captain Perrine, but Gavin cut him off.
“In truth, I was hoping no’ to involve her.”
What were they talking about? What was Sir Gavin trying to keep from her? It was time to be bold. She held her head high and walked into the moonlight toward the two men. She hoped that they would not notice her bare feet. It was easier to hold herself with aristocratic hauteur if they did not see her bare toes wiggling in the dirt.
One look at the men’s faces as she approached told her that her bare feet would be the least of anyone’s concern.
“My lady!” Captain Perrine gasped. “Is anything amiss?”
“No, all is well, except Sir Gavin returns to camp at a late hour. What has detained you, Sir Knight?”
Gavin and her captain exchanged a glance, as if trying to decide how much they should reveal. Marie Colette ground her teeth. She hated to be treated like some sort of insipid piece of fragile glass that might shatter at any moment. She knew her practiced composure made people conclude she never had a care in the world. No one could know the pain it caused nor the strength it demanded to maintain such a serene facade.
“Go to bed, m’lady. There is naught to concern ye now.” Gavin’s voice was tired.
“The babe you still carry in your arms,” observed Marie Colette. “I thought you had found someone to take the infant.”
“The woman proved woefully inept. In truth, instead o’ finding a solution, I found more troubles, but this is my problem to solve.”
It was then that Colette noticed them. Five girls were huddled toward the end of one of the wagons. “You sought to give away a babe and returned with five more instead?”
“It was an unavoidable circumstance. Naught to concern ye.” Gavin shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.
“Of course this concerns me!” declared Colette. “Sir Gavin, you cannot traipse about the countryside collecting waifs you find along the way. You must return them to their families.”
“If they had families, I woud’na be collecting them at all.”
“Are we now to serve as an orphanage? What is to become of them?” Colette did not know what to think. She wished to help anyone who needed it, but she feared they may only bring these children into more danger by adding them to their party.
“What would ye have me do? I coud’na leave them.” Gavin’s eyebrows clamped down over stern black eyes.
“But how are we to help them?” she asked.
“I dinna ken” was his only answer. He ran his fingers through his hair in a distracted manner.
“We cannot take them
with us to the Highlands. I do not know what you think we can do for them,” continued Colette, appealing to reason.
Gavin’s shoulders slumped, but a certain set to his jaw indicated he did not appreciate her pointing out the facts before him. “If ye are worried for yer own inconvenience, let me assure ye, I dinna expect ye to care for them.”
Colette flushed warm in the cool night air, anger rising within her. “But why ever not? Let us start a home for wayward children. It will be most delightful to arrive on the doorstep of my husband with an entire brood of children, no? It does a lady’s reputation much good to surround herself with infants and young children of unknown parentage.”
“Ye’ll find in the Highlands, we have much different ideas o’ how we treat each other, m’lady. We dinna walk by the poor and the needy wi’out extending a hand,” Gavin responded coldly.
Colette gasped at his rude comment, especially after she had cherished his praise on how she had tended the infant. “How do you propose we help them? By including them in our party, we will travel slower, putting not only ourselves but them at risk too.”
“The only thing making us a target for English attack are all these wagons full o’ riches.”
His words stung. Colette thought he’d understood what her inheritance meant to her. “These are my mother’s things,” she said through gritted teeth.
“They are things!” Gavin gestured wildly with his free hand in an exasperated manner. “Ye put yerself and everyone at risk, clinging to these belongings.”
Colette held her head high, her back straight. She would not let him see how his words struck her harder than a physical blow. He had agreed to help her, but at the first sign of difficulty, he threw it back in her face.
Colette pulled her wrap around her closer, aware of many sets of eyes. Captain Perrine was watching them. The orphans were watching them. The night stars were watching them, and she felt the judgment of all the heavens upon her.
“Thank you for your candid opinion regarding my marriage contract. I appreciate how boldly you have shared it with not only me but so many of our traveling companions. Since you have declared this is not my concern, I will allow you to tend to it and we can continue this edifying conversation in the morn.” She spun and stalked off, intending to go back to her tent.
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