Myles stood in the entry to the shack, watching, glancing over his shoulder now and again to make sure Val or Cantia weren’t around to wonder why he was hanging around an old smithy shelter. Cantia was curious but Val was worse. She had the senses of a trained knight and he swore the woman could move like a phantom and read minds like a witch. He rather liked it, though. The past two months had been the best of his life.
Grinning when he thought of his lovely, strawberry-blond wife who was trying very hard to learn to be a good chatelaine, he refocused on the old surgeon as the man thoroughly examined the patient, who was by now becoming semi-lucid. Folding his arms across his big chest, Myles leaned against the door jamb, his mind wandering, when someone stuck a finger in his ear.
“Boo!”
Myles jumped as much from the finger in his ear as the voice, turning to see Val grinning back at him. He returned her smile as he turned his back on the door to block her view of the interior. Then he wrapped her up in his embrace.
“Greetings, wife,” he kissed her sweetly.
Val put her arms around his neck, accepting his affection. “Greetings,” she kissed him in return, savoring the gesture. “What are you doing?”
He shook his head, trying to distract her with sweet kisses and moving away from the shack at the same time. “Nothing of note,” he said, trying not to lie to her. “More importantly, what are you doing?”
Val had her arms wrapped around his neck as he picked her up and began to walk off with her, her legs trailing down his long body. She giggled as he swung her around playfully.
“Walking with Arabel,” she said, removing an arm and pointing over to her niece several feet away. “She wanted to come outside on this lovely day.”
Myles smiled over at Arabel in her specially built chair with wheels on it, being tended by the two women who had raised her. She lifted a weak hand to wave at Myles and he waved back.
However, as Myles was smiling and waving, he was also quite frantic to move them both away from the old smithy shack. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen them coming. His mind must have been wandering more than he realized. But to take the blame off himself, he silently reiterated that his wife moved like a wraith and he was paying the price for it by being surprised at her appearance.
“Arabel,” he called over to the girl. “I saw that a dog had a litter of puppies over in the stables. Do you want to see them?”
As he hoped, Arabel was properly distracted. She cried out gleefully. “Aye!” she clapped her hands. “Perhaps my father will allow me to have a dog like Hunt does!”
Myles grinned at her enthusiasm. “Perhaps,” he said. “But do not tell him I told you about the puppies. He will berate me when he is unable to refuse you.”
Arabel nodded happily and her women began to wheel her off in the direction of the stable. Just as Myles settled Val in beside him to follow, the physic emerged from the shanty and called out to him.
“My lord!”
Myles came to a halt, inwardly groaning as the physic made his way towards him. In fact, he was rather desperate to remove Val so he gently turned her in Arabel’s direction.
“Go with Arabel,” he said. “I will join you in a moment.”
Val started to agree but the physic started talking before she could move out of earshot.
“My lord,” the physic said again. “It would seem the woman has a disease of the lungs. I have seen it before. It is indeed contagious but should not create an issue if we keep her isolated and keep her mouth covered so she cannot breathe out her disease on others. I believe I can keep her contained.”
Val heard him. She came to a halt, looking at the physic curiously even as Myles tried to turn her around.
“What woman?” she wanted to know, then looked at her husband with concern. “Do we have sickness at Rochester?”
Myles shook his head and started to reply to her, but the physic interrupted. “They call this disease phithisis,” he said to them both. “The woman coughs up black blood. I can hear her chest laboring. She is far gone with the disease and will not live much longer.”
Val looked very concerned as well as puzzled. “But I have not heard of anyone at Rochester being ill,” she said to Myles. “Is this woman from the village?”
Myles sighed heavily, glancing at the physic and making a gesture for the man to vacate. As the old surgeon wandered back towards the shack, Myles turned his attention back to his wife. Gazing into her dark eyes, he knew he had to tell her. He could easily make up another story to satisfy her, but his conscience would not allow it. He had never lied to her before and wasn’t about to start. Moreover, Tevin was sure Val could identify the woman if, in fact, it was Louisa. He put his arm around her shoulders and turned in the direction of the shack.
“Early this morning, we had visitors,” he said quietly. “I must ask you now to keep this to yourself until Tevin informs Cantia. It is important.”
Val nodded seriously. “Of course, Myles. What is it?”
Myles began to escort her towards the shanty. “Did Cantia or Tevin ever tell you about Gillywiss?”
Val nodded. “Cantia told me,” she replied. “He was the outlaw who saved her from Dagan, was he not?”
Myles nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “He also formed some kind of strange attachment to Cantia. He made her a promise.”
“What do you mean? What promise?”
“That he would discover Louisa’s fate so that Tevin and Cantia could be married.”
Val’s brow furrowed. “Why on earth would he do that?”
“As I said, he formed a strange attachment to Cantia. When he appeared this morning, he said that he did it because they had something in common, wanting things they could never have. He also did it because she saved his sister’s life and he felt indebted to her.”
Val came to a halt at the door to the shack, looking at him with an utterly baffled expression. “What did he do?”
Myles lifted his eyebrows at her. “I am hoping you can tell me.”
He pushed the door open, exposing his wife to the dark and unsettling world inside. The physic and the serving woman were there, washing out some clothes in vinegar to put over the patient’s mouth so she could not cough out her germs. Wary, Val stepped in with Myles behind her. He took her over to the straw mattress where a small figure lay, now with a cloth over her nose and mouth, and still swathed in jumbles of dirty blankets. She smelled like a sewer. Myles glanced over his shoulder at the physic.
“Remove the cloth on her mouth,” he instructed. “I want to see her face.”
The physic slid into the space between Val and the bed, peeling off the vinegar-soaked cloth. A very pale, very fair face came into view and the physic pulled back the blankets around the woman’s head so her hair and features could be more plainly seen.
“Tell me who this is,” Myles whispered to his wife.
Perplexed, Val bent over to gain a better look. She truly had no idea who she was looking at until the woman shifted and more of her features came into view. Then, an inkling of suspicion gripped her and Val peered more closely at the woman, drawing on distant memories to put a name to the face. When the woman sighed faintly in her sleep and a big dimple appeared on her chin, Val was seized with recognition. She grabbed Myles as if something had just terrified her.
“Louisa!” she gasped. “It… it is Louisa!”
Myles held on to his stricken wife. “Are you sure?”
Val nodded, so hard that her hair flopped over her cheeks. “My God,” she breathed, blinking back tears. “I knew her. I thought we were friends. That is her, I swear it.”
Myles pulled her away from the bed, gesturing to the physic, who went to his patient and covered her mouth and nose again with the soaked cloth. Meanwhile, Myles pulled his wife all the way to the door, kicking the panel open to get her out of the diseased hut. He had a strong grip on her because she was shaken and upset.
“Listen to me,” he whispered. “You canno
t tell Cantia. Tevin must tell her.”
Val lost the battle against the tears. “It is not Cantia I am worried over,” she wept. “Arabel will be devastated. All she knows of her mother was that she abandoned her and did not love her. Dear God, why is that woman here? What will we tell Arabel?”
Myles put his arms around her to comfort her. “You will tell her nothing,” he said soothingly, steadily. “That is for Tevin to decide. I simply needed your confirmation that it is indeed Tevin’s wife. You have done that. You must let your brother take care of the rest.”
Val was wiping at her eyes with shaking hands. “That… that outlaw actually found her?” she was flabbergasted. “How did he find her?”
“He has family in Paris,” Myles replied. “Since Paris was the last known location of Louisa, Gillywiss apparently went there looking for her. It took him months to track her down, but he did, finding her in a brothel. He brought her back because he promised Cantia he would.”
Val was gazing at him with a wide-eyed expression, full of incredulity. “Promised her? But I simply do not understand. For what purpose?”
“I told you,” he said patiently. “I can only surmise that it is so Cantia can know the woman’s fate and, in knowing, pave the pathway for her and Tevin to be married. At least, that was the gist of what I understood.”
It made some sense, but Val was still reeling. “I can hardly grasp all of this,” she breathed. “Louisa has actually returned.”
“Aye, she has.”
She started to reply but the words caught in her throat and her expression changed from disbelief to one of sorrow. Her gaze moved to the mighty keep of Rochester soaring over their heads.
“I must speak with Tevin,” she said, moving for the keep and pulling Myles with her. “He must know… my God, what must he be thinking of all of this? He must be astonished at the very least. The woman humiliated him, abandoned him, and now she is returned.”
Myles took her hand to both slow her down and steady her. “Your brother can well handle his feelings, Val,” he said softly. “I know you want to protect him, but he is a grown man. He can handle himself.”
Val knew he was right but she didn’t like his answer. Val had been watching out for Tevin for many years, as the younger sister to a powerful brother. There was something vulnerable about Tevin in her eyes and her protective instinct for him had only gotten worse when Louisa had deserted him and their month-old infant. She could feel her anger rise.
“You were not there when that… that woman discarded Tevin and Arabel like so much rubbish,” she said, pointing angrily in the direction of the smithy shack. “She ran off with another knight, a man from her homeland. She never wanted to be married to Tevin but she went through with the marriage anyway, eventually leaving him with a sick baby and humiliating him. I know my brother can handle himself in any situation but it does not stop the sense of protection I have for him and for Arabel. I have tried very hard not to hate Louisa for what she did but right now, all I can feel is fury.”
Myles was calm as he watched her. “Then what would you have me do with her?” he asked softly. “Do you want me to dump her in a church somewhere, with a charity where she will be cared for until she dies? Do you want me to send her away from Rochester to save your brother and Arabel’s feelings?”
Some of Val’s fury seemed to abate and she grew uncertain. “Tevin already knows she is here.”
“He does, but he is not sure it is Louisa. He said you would know for sure. Would you lie to your brother and tell him it is not Louisa and we can simply rid her from Rochester?”
More of her fury took a dousing. After a moment, she shook herself, struggling to calm.
“Nay,” she muttered, averting her gaze. “I would not lie to my brother, no matter how much I want to protect him. He should make the decision on what to do with Louisa.”
“Then let us go and tell him the truth. Louisa has indeed returned.”
Reluctantly, Val agreed.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tevin had told her not to go near the smithy shack, but Cantia wasn’t so sure that she was inclined to obey him. After he had told her of Gillywiss’ appearance and the subsequent unveiling of a dying Louisa, Cantia had moved from the realm of disbelief and shock to one of complete astonishment. She could hardly believe what she was hearing, torn between bewilderment and jealousy. But that didn’t compare to what Tevin was feeling.
So she pushed aside her emotions to comfort Tevin, who seemed truly shaken and bordering on despondence. It wasn’t so much for himself but for his daughter, and he and Cantia and Val had spent two solid hours attempting to determine how to tell the young woman that her mother, on her deathbed, had returned. It was a touchy and understandably emotional subject, with Tevin feeling quite protective of his daughter, wanting to shield her from the woman who had hurt her so badly. But he ultimately decided that he had to, in good conscience, tell her, and Tevin and Val went to Arabel’s room to inform her of Louisa’s arrival. That was the last Cantia had seen of them.
As the afternoon waned into shades of purple dusk, Cantia stood at the window overlooking the north portion of Rochester’s bailey, her gaze on the smithy shacks all lined up against the outer wall. She knew Louisa was in one of them and, unlike the rest of the family, had no previous emotional investment in the woman. She was deeply curious.
Rubbing her belly as the baby kicked, she turned away from the window and headed down the steep spiral stairs to see how the evening meal was progressing. Clad in a rich, heavy brocade coat of emerald silk and a feather-soft shift the color of eggshells beneath it, she was warm and richly dressed, looking elegant and radiant, and every inch an earl’s wife.
Cantia passed the level that contained Arabel and Hunt’s chambers, pausing to peek into her son’s room. Hunt was on the floor with the dog lying close by, playing with little toy soldiers made from sticks of wood. The past several months had been an adjustment for him with both his father and grandfather gone, but he had adapted.
All Hunt knew of Charles’ absence was that his grandfather had gone on an extended journey and he had accepted the explanation as it had been carefully delivered by Tevin, but the truth was that he really wasn’t particularly lonely. Now he had Arabel to play with and the two of them were very companionable. Arabel wasn’t with him today, however, so he played alone. When he caught sight of his mother, he jumped up and ran to her.
“Mam,” he grabbed her hand. “I am hungry. Isth it time to eat yet?”
She smiled at her little boy. “It is,” she said. “Would you like to come with me to the kitchens?”
He nodded eagerly, pulling her from the chamber but easing up by the time they hit the stairs. He had been repeatedly reminded, and warned, of his mother’s pregnancy and was properly careful, at least as much as a five year old could be. He ended up trying to help his mother down the last few steps, being a gentleman, but the moment she was off the stairs, he was yanking her from the keep.
Cantia fought off a grin as she allowed her eager son to tow her out into the yard. She found herself looking about, trying to catch a glimpse of Tevin or Val or even Myles, but everyone seemed to have vanished. Not particularly concerned, she returned her attention to Hunt only to catch a glimpse of the smithy shacks off to her right. They lingered in a cluster, run down, and somewhat foreboding. There was darkness there. Her curiosity had the better of her and she let go of Hunt’s hand.
“Go into the kitchen and tell Cook that you would like some bread,” she instructed. “Tell her I will be there in a moment.”
Hunt cocked his head curiously. “Where are you going?”
Cantia answered indirectly. “I will be there shortly. Go, now. Do as I say.”
Hunt watched his mother head off towards a collection of seldom used stalls, but that was as far as his curiosity went. His rumbling belly had him turning for the kitchen and the alluring smell of fresh baked bread.
Cantia approached the shelters
, her pace slowing. She grew more wary with each passing step, glancing around to make sure Tevin wasn’t somewhere nearby. She knew he would become angry at her for disobeying him, but she felt an inexplicable pull to see the woman he had married. She understood clearly that the woman was dying and, in a small way, perhaps Cantia wanted to see for herself. She wanted to see this woman who had birthed Arabel and then had abandoned her family. Beyond that, she really wasn’t sure why she wanted to see her, only that she did. Something strong and unseen was pulling her in that direction.
Two of the shacks were empty but she could hear movement in the third. Cantia paused, listening to the low hum of conversation, wondering if she should come back another time. As lady of Rochester, however, she had every right to know who was within her castle, or at least she told herself that. She had every right to be here. Squaring her shoulders, she opened the rickety old door.
The old physic was inside along with a serving woman from the kitchens. Cantia recognized her. Both of them turned to look at the lady of Rochester standing regally in the door opening.
“My lady,” the physic greeted. “What are you doing here? You should not be jeopardizing the child so in the same room as a sick woman.”
Cantia’s eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness as she stepped into the doorway, her gaze moving across the dim chamber until she came to rest on a lumpy jumble in the corner. It smelled old and dank, mingling with the sharp scent of vinegar.
“I heard about this woman and came to see her,” she said, wondering how much the physic knew about the identity of his patient. “Is she really dying?”
The physic glanced over his shoulder at the body in the corner. “She is,” he replied. “A few days at most, maybe hours.”
“Has she awakened? I was told she was unconscious.”
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume 1 Page 71
