The Lost Lady Read online

  It was not surprising when the two women excused themselves shortly after. Mistress Adela made sure her lady did not see the look of apology she earnestly gave Luveday. Luveday didn’t fault the nurse for remaining silent. Christabel was a handful on the best of days.

  The remaining women finished their wine and then excused themselves to finish their duties for the night, all under the watchful and thoughtful eye of Lord Iain.

  The days turned warmer still as summer took hold and Luveday finally started her lessons in the saddle. Wells said she took to riding as if she had been born in the saddle, and Luveday thought the charming old man was just trying to ease her nerves. Riding was both more and less than she expected. It was easier, but then her mount did most of the hard work while Wells bellowed out instructions. It was less frightening, there again her teacher and mount helped with that too. They moved from walking around the bailey to taking short trips through the town, to trotting across the countryside. While Luveday longed for the freedom to fly over the fields in controlled abandon, she knew her skills were still new and hesitated to urge old Nell into a full gallop.

  Her time spent riding each day helped to build her endurance in the saddle and lightened her heart. There was something freeing about being in the saddle as if a road of possibilities opened up before her if she would just give her mount its head. But she didn’t gallop toward some far horizon, not in a world unknown to her, yet still, there was the gleam of freedom should she chose to take it, and that was enough for her.

  Weeks turned into a month and a month into a season as summer was finally underway. The crops were growing full, and even Luveday’s trees were bearing fruit while their brothers struggled on. Father Quinn and several farmers made the trek to the keep to ask her what she had done for the trees. Some were having trouble with their crops, and Luveday promised she would visit their fields, but warned that she could only do so much.

  It was after one such trip that she found herself resting in the field before the castle. She had walked, deciding that the trip was too short to saddle a horse. The basket she had carried on her back as a sort of pack was filled with a notebook and pencils. Setting it down and pulling out the water skin and the blanket she carried, she decided here was a good place to stop and have a snack.

  The warm sun was not too hot, though she didn’t worry with her small supply of sunscreen. She watched Archer, her escort as he stopped to talk to some men a distance away. As long as she didn’t wander too far, he was happy to let her be. She didn’t think Warren or one of the other men would be so lax, but that is why she had chosen Archer to go with her. They had stopped to talk to his wife for a few moments. The woman was spinning thread, and Luveday offered to let her use some of their dyes, which pleased her a good deal. Though the woman was pregnant, she was not too far along, and Luveday hoped a visit to the castle would not be too much for her.

  Warmth soaked into her bones and Luveday enjoyed the sensation. The castle was cold, even as the temperature warmed, and while she was sure in later months, she would be happy about that fact, at the moment the sun was a pleasant change. Reclining a bit on her arms, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back soaking up the rays, but her peace was interrupted by the laughter of children as she watched a group race towards her, led by Coll and Gus. Luveday watched them come, not getting to her feet. If there was trouble, someone would have sent one of the men. More than likely, Emmalyn sent the boys with a message to stop by the chicken coops or the bakehouse before coming back. The boys ran right up to her and dropped on the ground next to her outstretched legs. The rest of the group slowed and approached more slowly.

  Luveday handed over the water skin, and the boys took big gulps as they tried to catch their breath. The wind had decided to pick up, and the children, near ten in all, looked out across the field as the tall green grass waved in the breeze.

  Coll caught his breath first, or perhaps Gus let him speak as it was the squire who had been charged with carrying the message. “Father Quinn has come to the Keep and wished to talk to you this afternoon. He is looking at the castle records right now, and Sir Gregori says they will be a while yet.” The boy looked at the others around him as they started to sit down in a semi-circle before the lady.

  Gus decided he had waited long enough and spoke before Coll could do more than open his mouth to take a breath. “Lady Emmalyn also asks that you pick some willow bark before returning to the castle as your stocks are low. Elli says that some dandelion root is needed too, and would you stop to speak with Cassandra about her tea, on the way back.” Gus looked very pleased with himself, while Coll frowned at him.

  The children were mostly silent as the wind picked up and tossed their hair and garments about. Luveday got an idea in her head and looked at the children who seemed to mirror the mischievous look in her eye. They smiled at her as she smiled widely back. As she got to her knees, she looked at Gus and Coll. “I will do all that, but first, I need your help.” The children looked at each other and then back to her nodding. “We need to hunt for a few items, but I think we can do it.” She hoped the weather would continue to be obliging. “Now what I need you to do is…” And the children listened closely to what she had to say, most did not believe her, but were up to helping anyway, especially when she pulled some sort of treat, she called candy, from her pocket and gave them each a piece. It was payment enough for them to help the lady do anything she asked.

  The wind rushed by in spurts and long gusts. It was not unpleasant but not the sort of thing they saw until late summer. Iain sat on his horse and looked out at the village. He had ridden his lands to check on the watering of the fields and taken the back way to reach the castle again. His men had informed him that Lady Luveday had yet to return from her visit that morning, but wherever the woman was, Archer was still with her. That did little to ease his mind as Benedict, Gregori and Father Quinn, who, he was told, had arrived in his absence, were also gone for some time and no one seemed to know where or why. So, he had turned his mount back to the countryside.

  As his eyes scanned the village for her familiar form, something caught his eye high above the yellow thatch rooftops. At first, he thought it a bird, until it turned in the wind. It did not look like any creature he had ever seen, and he could swear there was a rope tying whatever it was to the ground. He took off to investigate.

  In one of the unused fields on the other side of the village was a group of men that watched the sky. They chatted together and pointed but made no other move. His missing men were among their number as they turned their gaze to earth and looked across the field. Iain finally saw what it was they watched. Luveday, surrounded by a group of children held a thin rope that was carried aloft by some red cloth that floated in the stiff breeze high overhead. A boy, which one he could not tell, stood before her as she handed over the rope and leaned down to give him some words no one else could hear. The boy smiled and pulled back on the string. The diamond of fabric dropped suddenly, and all eyes turned to the boy. Luveday moved out of the way and spoke some instruction to him, but the wind took her words before they could reach the Lord’s ears. Iain watched in fascination as the boy moved across the field and the object rose higher. The wind died a bit, and the boy repeated the maneuver to save the deflating cloth. De Lane realized it was like the sail of a ship, which was carried aloft in the strong wind. Men and boys alike seemed to be enjoying the process.

  Dismounting, he joined his knights and the Priest. “What is that thing?” He asked.

  Father Quinn looked to him with the twinkle bright in his eyes. “The Lady called it a kite.” He raised his voice to speak over the wind. “The children helped her make it.”

  They watched a few moments until another child came forward and the kite was returned to Luveday as she instructed the next one on how to keep the kite in the air. Iain saw that only Archer was in the field with the children. “What is he doing there?” He pointed to the man-at-arms.

  Gregori w
as the one to speak up this time. “When the wind dies, or the child loses control of the kite, and it falls to earth, Archer helps the lady get it aloft again.” He never took his eyes from the field as he spoke. “They’ve lost it twice so far.” The men commented on its supposed construction and how a lady might know of such things. Iain glanced at his men and noticed that Benedict didn’t comment but watched the goings on with a sharp intent.

  Iain was about to ask what was on his mind when he took off across the field. The men looked at each other, strangely hesitant to follow; all but Iain. He took off after his brother gaining ground until they both met the woman smiling so brightly in the field.

  Luveday’s golden locks had been blown free, and her cheeks were pink from the sun and wind. Iain was not about to let Benedict charm the lady and was about to ask her something when Benedict interrupted and surprised him from his train of thought. Startled by the other lord’s question, Iain couldn’t help but stare, wondering how he had misjudged the situation.

  “Can you teach me, Lady Luveday?” Benedict asked earnestly.

  The lady only smiled at him and nodded. She looked to the boy who held the string. “Of course, but we will have to wait until Ollie has his turn.” Turning back, she looked at the two men. “Have you ever flown a kite before?”

  Iain wasn’t sure what to do or say, and luckily Benedict answered for him. “I have not. I have never seen such a thing before.” He looked up at the sky, clearly fascinated. “How does it work? How did you learn to make it?”

  “Children play with such things where I come from.” The wind blew her hair into her face as she spoke and Luveday raised a hand to her forehead to keep her hair out of her eyes and to shade them against the sun as she watched the kite. “Pull back a little, Ollie.” She called to the boy, who did as she said, but the wind continued to die down. He let go of the loose string as another gust grabbed the kite and tore it from his hands. The kite sailed for a moment, and Luveday feared it would end up in the trees, but the wind died again. The kite tried to recover some altitude before falling to the ground.

  Archer ran and picked it up, but his expression said that something was wrong as he approached to return the kite to Luveday. Benedict tried to examine the kite and how it was made as the lady looked it over. One of the branches had snapped on impact with the ground. Setting the kite down, Luveday sat too and began to unwind the string that tied the sticks together and the thick fabric to the branches. Suddenly the wind stopped, and Luveday looked up to see that she was surrounded by people. It seemed the men had finally given in to their curiosity and come to see what she was up to. They didn’t say anything as they watched her repair the kite with another branch that the children had collected, but she hadn’t used. Retying everything, the kite was once again ready to go.

  Benedict, who had been crouching in front of her to get a better look, helped her to her feet. The crowd parted as she handed the kite back to Archer who took up his position as she got the kite back into the air. As soon as it was stable, Benedict appeared at her side. She gave a few instructions and handed over the string. The young lord was as fascinated with the kite as the children had been. The kite flew for another quarter hour before the wind finally died, and the group headed back to the castle. The children said their goodbyes before scattering, clearly happy with the day’s activities.

  Benedict chatted her ear off on the walk back, but she kept looking to Lord Iain who watched them with an expression she couldn’t quite name. Every time their eyes met, she felt that something passed between them, something that confused her to no end.

  That evening she found Father Quinn in the steward’s rooms. It was a sort of office with ledgers for the keep. A record of harvests and a record of grievances were kept for the lord and taxes for the King. While the books seemed to be in order, it was clear that a good deal of the entries puzzled the priest.

  Luveday didn’t bother trying to look at them, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to decipher them anyway. Father Quinn seemed happy for the interruption as Gregori had left him to work. “The evening meal will be ready in a short while, Father. There was something you wished to talk to me about?”

  He set the book aside and looked at her in the candlelight. “Gregori said you had some questions about the Lord’s marriage. Anything I may help you with?” His eyes held an expression of kindness and softened when they looked at her. Luveday thought she saw something like sorrow there, but she couldn’t think why he would look at her with such an expression in his eyes.

  Luveday was hesitant to ask too many questions on this subject, but her knowledge was lacking, and she could never stand not knowing something. She was worried about what changes were in store for the keep and especially for herself. “I know almost nothing about marriage vows and contracts. I imagine it is a rather complicated affair. Other than the feast and ceremony, what other customs should I expect? Will the King’s presence change things?”

  Father Quinn laughed at her troubled expression. “It is not so serious a matter, Lady Luveday. The wedding date will be announced all over the Kingdom, and people will no doubt be arriving early for the celebration. As the King’s Champion, De Lane has a reputation to uphold, so expect a good deal of feasting, perhaps even a month’s long celebration.” He watched the lady pale and smiled at her. He supposed it would mean a lot of work for her and the women, but didn’t the fairer sex usually rally together in this sort of thing? “Many will bring gifts; a good amount of food and wine is customary to help the couple feed their guests. Then there are the games and the village feast before the day of the ceremony. The Binding will be said in the chapel in the morning and more feasting and merrymaking until late into the night. The traditional flying of the sheets with a good deal of ribbing the next morning and the festivities usually come to an end after a week or so.”

  “So, the celebration could last a few months?” Luveday watched the Father nod and felt a sort of weight drop to the bottom of her stomach. De Lane had yet to set a date for the ceremony, but all talk pointed to something in the fall after the King’s summer campaigns were over and the harvest was in. Luveday thought it made sense to wait until the castle’s stores were at their fullest, but the day was swiftly approaching. She could only guess at how many people would want to be present for the wedding of the King’s Champion. “Lady Christabel’s family will arrive sometime before the ceremony, should I expect anything?”

  “Only trouble.” He stated more to himself than to her. Father Quinn’s gaze sharpened as he realized his slip. “Not to worry, Lady. De Lane will have everything in hand.” The priest paused a moment as if he debated whether to tell her more. Sighing he said, “It is just that Lord Henric Sumerland is an ambitious man, and he keeps a good many friends. Some of which are not on good terms with De Lane or the King.” The way Father Quinn phrased his last statement gave Luveday the feeling that there was some strong unrest towards the King. She had heard some rumors, but she knew too little about it to know who was a threat and who wasn’t.

  “Are there any special friends I should pay attention too?” If Father Quinn wasn’t going to talk about it directly then neither would she.

  “Lord Albin of Sterling. He is a cousin to Duke Ladislaus of Sterling who is currently harassing the crown. Ladislaus is said to be making plans against the King and Albin is his right ear, though not officially tied to his kinsman.” Quinn turned to the door where a sound had caught their attention. “‘Tis best to keep an eye on him and his men.”

  Luveday got up and thanked the Father. “Food will be served shortly, Father. Thank you for telling me what to expect.” Luveday had more questions now than she had answers; questions she had not even thought of until talking to Father Quinn.

  “Oh, Lady Luveday!” She turned back to see the father at the door. “Lady Emmalyn mentioned you might be willing to accompany me on the morrow. I may be in need of your healer’s skill, and the lady thought you might like the outing. Sir Chadric i
s feeling ill, and I was asked to visit the Parish. Will you be able to accompany me?”

  Luveday had heard of the Parish, a manor house nestled inside the wood, but she had never had the opportunity to venture that far. The prospect sounded like fun. “Yes, thank you. I will inform Emmalyn that I will be going with you. Perhaps she can suggest what to bring.”

  “Thank you, lady. I don’t mean to take you away from your duties.” The Father looked out at the busy hall. “I’m sorry to keep you so long.” He looked as if he had enjoyed having someone to talk to.

  Luveday smiled her farewell and couldn’t help laughing. “I don’t mind the escape from this place every once and a while.” She looked over her shoulder at the men gathering for the meal and turned back to the Priest who watched the crowd intently. Her parting words were said with a smile, “Tempus Fugit.”

  As she rushed off, she couldn’t see the strange look the priest gave her as he watched her cross the hall.

  That night a new face joined the group around the fire. Sir Patrick Fuller had returned from abroad with a cart full of sheep and one of goats, half a dozen oxen, a milk cow and a sow who had given birth to almost a dozen piglets on the journey home. Sir Fuller was a large man with salt and pepper hair, a deep voice, and a painful gait. He was elderly by many standards, too old to take up arms and had been relegated to animal husbandry after his last battle had nearly taken his sword arm and his life. The men joked that he had settled into castle life well, but even Luveday could see the thirst for battle as the knights talked about old times. It seems that Sir Fuller had put many a young lad through his paces, and old age did not entirely agree with him.