A soft knock was sounded and Evan moved quickly to open the door. Two women entered, carrying a narrow copper tub. Maggie turned to inquire aloud, but saw Evan was busy instructing the troth be set near the growing fire.
Maggie stepped away from the group and motioned for Evan to follow. At the window, she whispered, “What did she say… ? Anything about Nicholas?”
The elderly man lit a thick candle on the table beside her bed and replied in a low voice, “Aye, Lady Elthea has composed the agenda for Master Nicholas. It is not for me to say, m’lady… perchance, his arrangements shall include a discreet rendezvous, anon.”
“Not later. Please, can’t you take me to him now?” Maggie pleaded, then lowered her voice when she saw the maids returning with steaming, heavy buckets. “Evan, I must see him before he leaves.”
“Would that I could, m’lady, yet I am duty-bound. The countess has bid me specifically… I am to serve thee supper, and these good ladies”—he gestured toward the women who were coming back in carrying steaming heavy buckets—”will attend thy bath. I may impart no more to thee at this time.” His mannerisms spoke louder than his words as he clasped his hands behind his back. This man wasn’t going to be deterred from his loyalty.
The moments away from Nick suddenly felt eternal.
Frustrated, she walked back to the table. Sitting down, she began voraciously nibbling at the fruit and coarse bread. She wasn’t going to touch the game bird, for her own convictions. It had to be one Robert killed.
Evan came forward and poured her ale, and Maggie gratefully accepted the goblet. With her mouth full she could barely swallow the ale to wash it all down. Her anxiousness to see Nick was obvious as Evan tried to hide the hint of his knowing smile.
Gasping for breath when she had finally gulped, Maggie managed to ask, “Thank you. Wow. That was great. I’m so full,” she winked, patting her stomach.
The man stood stoically.
Maggie glanced toward the women, and whispered to Evan, “Can you at least tell me if everything is all right? Please, Evan… can’t you tell me anything?”
He replenished her goblet. As he lowered himself closer to her he whispered, “At present, Master Nicholas rests, although his impatience to be reunited with thee is commensurate, m’lady.” He turned to see the maids leaving for more hot water. “I am to escort thee to his chamber when Lady Elthea instructs the hour.”
He must have sensed her anguish and taken pity on her.
Maggie sighed with gratitude. “Thank you, Evan. I needed to hear that.”
Okay… she could relax with that hope. Realizing she had no option but to wait, she tore off another chunk of bread. She ate in silence as Evan stood nearby, watching the tub being filled. Studying the flames before her, Maggie found she was becoming drowsy. Must have been the relief and the fact that she was starving. She also realized, this might be the last chance she had to sit a while… quietly.
The adventure she had accepted with every essence of her being, would continue.
And how like Elthea to think of everything, even in the midst of chaos. She was one cool cookie. Grace under pressure was the way to describe her.
Finally, Evan cleared his throat, and said formally, “I shall leave m’lady to her ablutions.” The tub was full, and the ladies stood waiting.
Maggie looked up as Evan reached into a small pocket in his vest and brought out a piece of paper. Handing it to her as he bowed, he whispered, “Pray, keep the fire going when thou art finished reading.”
Taking the folded parchment, Maggie nodded. She was to read it and then throw it into the fire. “Thank you, Evan… for everything.”
He smiled kindly at her, then left the room.
Maggie turned to the fire’s light and slowly opened the paper. The handwriting was in decorous script and she guessed it was written with a quill pen. It was not hastily scribed.
My Beloved Angel, Verily, and with no uncertainty, I feel thou art quite with me, in heart and spirit, We are One– Proof of this will be presented to thee on this very eve. Our benefactor has been most generous in providing aid to our sacred cause–The journey of our eternal love shall be the adventure we write together, I rest your loving Nicholas.
Greville at Amesbury
this 23rd March 1598
The cryptic message was definitely clear to her. First of all, he was okay… he hoped she got this letter… Elthea had a great plan… not to worry… for she would be with him… once and forever… Her Nicholas.
She read it again, memorizing each word, then with reluctance turned to the fire to destroy it as Evan advised. Wait. It was the first tangible memento of his love and devotion to her. And it was written on her birthday! How could she burn something so precious? It was the gift tag on the greatest present she ever got in life. Her twin soul.
She had to save it in a box for posterity. That’s it! If she ever got back to the future, and she would only go if he was by her side, she would have it to verify everything that had happened to her. She bent down to her left shoe and slipped it off. She lifted the sole lining and carefully tucked it underneath.
Proof. Time travel was real.
“M’lady?” The interruption startled Maggie. “Thy bath awaits.” The woman smiled imploringly.
Sighing, Maggie removed her other shoe, and with the pair safe in one hand, she began untying the back of her gown with the other. The older woman hurried to help her. Maggie didn’t protest. She was too tired to make any more points. All she could do now was go along with the story and be ready for anything. When she felt the fabric loosen from its laces, she exhaled and walked to the tub.
“Thank you, m’lady,” she said to her kindly assistant.
A hot bath was not a bad idea, considering all she’d been through today. Talk about your life-altering days. She almost groaned out loud when her mind flashed back to riding through the woods with Nick. She spied a stool that had been placed near the foot of the bath. She put her shoes on the small wooden seat and began removing the heavy velvet outer gown. The fabric dropped slowly to the floor and sent shivers up her arms and neck when she felt the caress against her skin. The woods… the fern grove. She drew in a breath between her teeth. And there was still later tonight.
The woman assisted Maggie to pin her hair up and helped remove her underclothes. It amazed her that she felt only marginally self-conscious about being nude in front of this kind stranger. She’d discovered a new freedom today. Those old fears seemed of little importance to her now… she was learning life and love were so much more than physical.
It was like playing the childhood game of connecting the dots. She couldn’t predict how any of it was going to turn out, or what picture was going to be presented. From here on, it was dot to dot…and waiting, being aware to see her next move. Patience had never been a strong point for her, yet now she was forced to practice it.
The tub itself was hot because of the metal, and when Maggie leaned her back against it, the heat entered her pores, and she deeply exhaled with a sigh of pleasure. Steam rose, creating tendrils of hair to curl as she sat very still and looked into the fire. From the corner of her eye, she saw the women bend down and pick up her gown and shoes.
“By thy leave, m’la—”
“No…” Maggie sat up quickly. “Where are you taking my things?”
“To be cleaned and aired, m’lady, as is procedure every eve.” She turned and started for the door. “Fret not, thy fineries shall be returned ‘fore mornin’, good as—”
“Wait!” She was nearly standing in the tub. “You can’t take them. I… I may need them when I’ve finished my bath… and I might go for a walk later. Thanks for the offer, but really, it’s fine.” She reached out insistently to the woman for the gown and shoes.
The woman approached her hesitantly. “As ye wish, m’lady.”
Maggie smiled at the lady, while returning the shoes and gown to the stool and slipped back into the soothing water, “Thank you, dear la
dy. You’ve been very kind.” And she closed her eyes.
“God reward thee, m’lady.”
She heard the latch click and allowed the tears she’d been holding back to finally come. Oh, she had been rewarded already… she had never in her life expected to find such happiness. Her heart was bursting with joy.
Truthfully, since her own marriage was such a miserable failure, she thought a love like she shared with Nick was just a myth. But she had seen it with her aunt and Malcolm and so she knew it was real. She vowed to do whatever it took to protect such a love, even if it meant taking a bath when all she wanted was to run down the hall to Nick’s room and throw herself into his arms.
She picked up a small cloth and soaked it in the hot water. On a narrow ledge were tiny glass vials and she chose one. Sniffing the stopper, she recognized lavender and poured a small amount into the water. When she was reunited again with Nick, at least she would smell nice even if she was in the same dress. Laying her head back against the tub, Maggie relaxed into the dream.
“… is it you?… is it you?… is it you?” She woke with a jolt.
She had no idea how much time had elapsed as she reached for the thick cloth to dry off. She glanced around the empty room. Whose voice spoke? Maggie stood to pat herself down. It was the dream… the very same dream she had had on the plane before she arrived in England. Then the thought slammed into her. Aunt Edithe. How she must be worrying.
Maggie stepped out of the tub and finished drying herself off. It wasn’t like she’d been purposely avoiding the memories. She was just slowly beginning to accept the fact she might not be able to get back to her life.
All the people she knew and loved. All those that loved her, too. She had to keep believing there was purpose in everything. Even the unknown. Just as Nick had said.
Somehow Aunt Edithe knew that, too.
Maggie replayed in her head the afternoon in that clearing. It had been magical and soon they would be joined, traveling to London and visiting Nick’s friend, Sir Francis Bacon. What would it be like to meet someone who was written about in history books? She tried to remember what she had read, but it was useless. Whatever Sir Francis Bacon had done to deserve being remembered by those who followed him was lost to her. She would question Nick about it. He had so much to teach her about this time, and she had so much to tell him about hers. Maybe Elthea was right. Together they might accomplish something. Their lifelong magical adventure was about to begin.
The door opened just as Maggie dropped the towel. She expected the maids, but the figure she saw caused chills to run down her spine, despite the heat of her bath. Immediately, she grabbed her undergown and held it over her breasts.
“Get out,” she commanded in a strong voice.
Chapter Thirteen
Robert walked farmer into the room and closed the door behind him.
From somewhere in her frenzied mind she heard Elthea’s words…
Be prepared for anything.
Surely no one expected this!
“What do you want?” she demanded, as he silently walked to the side of the bed and sat down.
Damn. No way. Not this. She didn’t care if he was lord of the manor!
“I demand that you leave,” Maggie stated in a voice that she prayed would not reveal her terror. The man was far too silent to suit her. And he looked drunk.
“Thou art a picture of feminine beauty, dear cousin,” he whispered. “Your appearance pleases me even if your demeanor does not” He invitingly patted the fur cover on the edge of the large bed.
“You had better leave before I scream,” she threatened, realizing she was butt naked, save for the damp undergarment clutched to her chest, and helpless to do much of anything more.
“As ye wish, m’lady. Scream. There is no one in Greville manor who would disobey me and incur my displeasure… including my dear lady mother.”
Maggie took several deep breaths to calm her frantic mind. “What do you want then?”
He smiled wickedly and paused. “I wish to discuss our betrothal, cousin.”
“You said it would be tomorrow. This is not the time or place for such a discussion. Now, I am not pleased, Robert.”
His attention was drawn by her last statement. “Thou art my betrothed, and as such, thy pleasure is of utmost importance to me, Margaret. Nevertheless, I am Lord and Dominion, therefore, all-important.”
She almost laughed with nervousness. Dot to dot, but she never would have figured this picture forming! “That makes you feel so much better, doesn’t it? That everyone should run around trying to please you? Who are you, Robert… really, to act so spoiled? Because of your birth? Perhaps I’ve learned that if one is so blessed as to be born with privileges, then one might devote his or her life to service of those not so blessed.”
“Thy speech is rightly brave for a woman, yet I care not of thy opinions or what manner of acceptable customs have been acquired in your travels. When you are my loyal wife, you shall act in accordance to the proprieties befitting a noble husband.” He leaned back on the huge headboard and folded his hands behind his neck. “Forthwith, as my betrothed, I forbid thee to consort with that recreant, Master Nicholas Layton…. He will ne’er be seen, ever again.”
His pompousness made her want to vomit. She would not respond to his insult of Nick. That would be just what Robert was looking for to provide him with ammunition to use against them. She had to remain calm. The best way to play chess was to relax and allow your mind to function.
Taking a deep steadying breath, Maggie closed her eyes briefly and said, “You are wearying me, m’lord. I shall not discuss the betrothal while I am at my bath. I ask you to leave.”
He quickly sat up. “And I ask thee to answer my query… Why is thy speech so foreign? Why have your manners lapsed, as to laugh at me in public? The price of indiscretions can be very dear to thy life, and thy purse, cousin.” His face looked mottled with anger.
Maggie knew whatever she answered would affect Lady Norreys’s life. Suddenly, she came up with a plan. She hoped she wasn’t creating a monster.
“Would you mind if I dressed?” She figured it was a beginning.
“The maids are not present to assist thee, and I am quite pleased with my view… But change if you must.” He continued to stare directly at her.
Okay, it’s a standoff, she thought, and lowered herself to the small stool, draping the undergown over as much of herself as she could. “I’m thirsty. Hand me my ale, and then you and I shall come to an agreement.” She hoped he would take the bait.
He seemed suspicious for a few moments, then walked to the table. Maggie squirmed to avoid his stare as he refilled the goblet and handed it to her. She accepted it and sipped, praying what she had planned would work.
“Thy agreement, Lady Norreys?” He poured himself a cup.
She nodded and looked him in the eye. “Let us drop the formal language and just speak truth. Let’s be honest, you and I. You need my money, and I…” Maggie had no idea what Lady Margaret’s reasons were for entering into this marriage. “I need to be with my family now. I have traveled and am truly weary of the world. Too many tyrants, like you, Robert,” she said with a forced smile. “Should I marry you, I will promise to behave according to your wishes… in public. I shall be a credit to your name. However, in private, you must earn my respect, and barging into my bath is not the way to achieve that.”
“And that is all?” Robert asked, sitting back and taking a deep gulp.
This time Maggie did laugh, despite the pounding of her heart. “Hardly, for you will have access to my money, after all. I shall want a precise accounting of your intentions and investments with my holdings, and it must be reported to me directly.”
“That is outrageous!” he jumped up from his seat. “I am lord of this manor and as such—”
She held up her goblet as she interrupted. “As such you will have ample funds, but you will not squander my fortune, Robert. In my… my travels I have
had an extensive training in finances and you will not be pulling the wool over my eyes. Come, all I ask for saving you and your home is the peace I now seek and that you earn my respect before again viewing my person in such an intimate manner. This shall be a partnership, Robert, or none at all.”
Wow, she was impressed with herself for coming up with that one.
“The betrothal contract has been signed and none of this was stated prior,” his voice was agitated. “You cannot—”
“I can do whatever I please,” she again interrupted. “I am not married to you yet. I do so want this to be a peaceful marriage. All I am asking is that you—”
Before Maggie could finish her thought, the door was flung open and Elthea came into the room. Evan stood behind her and averted his eyes.
“Have thy senses been lost?” she demanded of her son. “You have ingested more than a sufficiency of the drink, Robert, and it has dulled your senses! Bear witness to your own deplorable behavior, Robert, as has the steward of this house.”
“My witness and good servant, Evan, do you think me drunk?”
Evan looked up from the floor. “I have no eyes nor ears this evening, m’lord.”
“Remove yourself at once, sir!” Elthea sounded disgusted with her son. “Must I remind you, this marriage contract may be breached by your actions?”
“As ye will, my lady mother,” Robert said with a sarcastic tone, as he began to sway.
“My son, thy character is most fulsome—”
Robert interrupted. “Continue thy fanciful orchestrations for the forthcoming event, my lady mother… an agreement has been struck between Lady Margaret Norreys of Rycote and Lord Robert of Amesbury.”
Elthea looked furious. “Depart this chamber at once, I say.” She pointed to the door. “Forget not our cousin is highly favored by the Queen. Breath of this scandal would be cause for forfeiture of more than thy marriage, Lord Robert of Amesbury.”
From the look on his face, Maggie knew Ethea’s dig pried hard into Robert’s side.
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