The Lost Lady Read online

  The next day proved uneventful though Luveday kept a watchful eye on Lord Albin and Sir Peter Stern whenever she could. The two kept their distance from each other, barely exchanging more than a few words all day. It wasn’t until night had fallen, and the castle was quiet that something happened.

  Luveday was abed, but not asleep. She used her small wind up flashlight to read a few pages in her books. Though she had read the herbal from cover to cover, she still studied its pages, willing herself to commit it to memory. She spent about half an hour learning its secrets before turning to her favorite book, the Poetry of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. The romantic poet was her one indulgence.

  Browning’s life and poetry touched her heart, “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach…”

  It was only because she had gotten lost in the words, and had yet to go to sleep, that she heard the noise coming down the hall. Thinking Emmalyn might need her, she rose and made it to the door before the person on the other side. There was something odd about it. And Luveday stood looking at the latch as her mind registered that it was not Emmalyn or one of the other ladies who had sought her out. The presence in the hall seemed large, its footfalls too heavy to be a woman. When the latch moved, Luveday threw her weight against the door holding it closed. The man on the other side didn’t push through or she would never have been able to hold her ground. The voice she heard muttering in the hall was one she recognized.

  Lord Albin was a talkative fellow, who believed his position was more important than any other at Lander’s Keep. He had made a small speech that night at dinner, that Luveday felt, was full of innuendos and metaphors that she didn’t’ fully understand, but the result was far from subtle.

  He cursed as the door refused to give way, and a few moments later he moved back down the hall. Luveday waited for a door to sound but heard none. She made a fast decision. Grabbing her belongings, she hid them back in their cubbies, wrapped herself in the purple fleece blanket and headed for the solar.

  She cracked open the door, listening down the hall. Opening it a bit wider, she stuck her head through. There was no sign of anyone, though she wouldn’t put it past Albin to check her door again tonight. She closed the door as quietly as she could and raced for the solar.

  Luveday let herself in, and closed the door behind her, leaning back on it to catch her breath. Coll was stretched out on the bench under the glass windows. A lantern burned in the small space while more light shown around the bedroom door. Luveday sat down, taking one of the cushions on the floor that had belonged to the bench and leaning back against the wall. No one would look for her here, she just needed to rise before the rest of the castle and head back to her room before anyone was the wiser. Settling in, she looked up as Coll rolled over and looked at her. He was still mostly asleep and settled back in when she whispered that everything was alright and that he could go back to sleep. Luveday curled up on the cushion leaning against the built-in cabinet that flanked the bench. With the cold stone wall at her back, she tried to get comfortable and didn’t realize how quickly she drifted into sleep.

  A hand touched her shoulder, and Luveday leaned into the warmth still somewhere between slumber and wakefulness. Her name was whispered as she was pulled to her feet and ushered into the bedroom. There was a heated exchange between several familiar voices, but Luveday was having trouble focusing, and could barely open her eyes. There wasn’t much she understood other than their angry tones as she listened from her perch. She ran her hand over a fur and looked down to find herself sitting on the large trunk at the end of Iain’s bed.

  Blinking a few times, the room swam in and out of focus. She just couldn’t get her eyes to stay open.

  A moment later large hands tilted her head up as they framed her face then slid down to where her skull met the column of her neck. There was her name again, in that deep whisper she liked. A thumb stroked her right cheek as she leaned a little to her left. She felt warm and safe and smiled sleepily to herself.

  “Luveday. Wake up, Lady.” Iain’s voice sounded directly in front of her, it’s timber a bit louder and more insistent.

  Though exhausted, she opened her eyes to see him standing too close. He still held her head up, she feared without his support she might just tumble over into a useless heap on the hardwood floor.

  Another voice, from her left, sounded. Fuller asked something that she didn’t catch, though Luveday could just see him turn towards the door out of the corner of her eye.

  Sir Gregori entered with a sleepy Coll who looked on in confusion and continued to shake his head at whatever the knight was asking him.

  “What happened, Luveday?” Her gaze moved only a fraction to center on Iain once more. She smiled at him; he really was too handsome, but that frown on his face was troublesome. “Why were you sleeping at my door?”

  “The door.” She repeated as a way of explanation. Her wits were starting to trickle back into her head, and she frowned in return. Something was wrong with this situation. She had fled her room. “Door doesn’t lock.” She tried again.

  Gregori looked at them as Coll went back to bed. Fuller growled a warning, much like the hounds that he cared for.

  Iain still held her head up. “What door?”

  Fuller answered as she licked her lips. “The lady’s door doesn’t have a bolt on it. She mentioned it to me a few days ago, with the many guests and all.” Gregori turned and left the room. Fuller stationed himself before the door, and Iain stared at the lady trying to control the growing fury that turned his stomach to fire.

  “Did someone try to enter your room tonight, Luveday?” She nodded moving his hands along with her head.

  She was relieved he understood because she was having trouble communicating. She felt the anxiety and the hard work of the last week had finally caught up with her. All she wanted was to lay down and get some rest.

  Gregori returned, and words were exchanged between him and Fuller. Iain didn’t seem to be paying attention to the conversation, but Luveday saw his pupils dilate as his nostrils flared; she was so close.

  Gregori stepped closer, standing just behind Iain’s left shoulder and in Luveday’s line of sight. “Albin was in the hall a moment ago. It looked like he might have been coming from her room.”

  The muscles in Iain’s jaw clenched and moved as Luveday realized he was grinding his teeth.

  “I will see to a sturdy latch and bolt on the morrow.” Fuller offered.

  “Call the blacksmith. I want his strongest bolt on that door by tomorrow evening.” Iain never so much as glanced away from her. “Was it Albin?”

  She nodded slightly. Gregori left to make sure the lordling returned to his room, while mentally plotting the man’s demise. They knew they could not throw him out of the castle, or better yet, throw him in the dungeons, as they needed to learn more of his cousin’s plans and what part the slimy young man played in them.

  “She’ll stay here the rest of the night.” Fuller didn’t argue as Iain began making a palette before the fire. A few moments later, she was nestled between the soft furs and sound asleep, unaware of the fury that churned in the heart of the man who watched over her.

  It was a bit awkward as Iain woke her a few hours later, just before dawn and escorted her back to her room. He stood guard outside as she washed and dressed for the day. She thanked him as they stood in the hall. Luveday looked at everything but him, while she felt his gaze like a weight on her body. He merely nodded and headed back to the solar for a moment. Luveday went about her usual duties, though she was up a little earlier than normal. The Blacksmith, Barth, was called in and began work of fashioning a bolt to lock Luveday’s door. The activity around her room did not go unnoticed, and while no one spoke of it directly, Emmalyn inquired if she was alright while the rest of the women kept a watchful eye over her. Luveday didn’t mind that they kept her close, it made her feel like one of them, like family.

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nbsp; The men were out most of the day, Iain had somehow gotten the majority of them out of the castle, Albin and some of the floppy court men included.

  Luveday did not worry about her safety, though she kept a wary eye out anyway. She had given the lordling the poetry, and perhaps he had taken that as some sort of invitation, but she would make it clear that it was no such thing.

  By nightfall the men were more subdued, though tensions were at a peak. Henric and Iain had had an argument while hunting and touring the estate. No one seemed to know exactly what they talked about, but the castle ran rampant with speculations. Though the men sat next to each other at dinner, they were still very brisk, and every other comment from Sumerland’s mouth was a thinly veiled insult. Lord Albin Sterling had returned with the men and was acting like a spoiled brat, complaining about everything in sight while Christabel agreed with him and begin pointing out items he might have missed.

  Angry words were exchanged as dinner came to an end, and several knights at the long tables began shouting. As punches were thrown, the women scurried out of the way. Christabel screamed and became hysterical, the men at the high table began shouting. Albin said something he shouldn’t have, and Iain and Gregori both turned to him with thunderous looks. Iain grabbed Sterling by the front of the shirt and hauled him out of his chair. Lord Henric took offense at how his companion was being treated and stepped in, threatening De Lane.

  Luveday watched from the fireside, having just refilled the cups of the minstrels who were more than happy with her hospitality. She had been barred from the high table for the last two nights but didn’t mind as she found the company not to her liking anyway. Elli flew to her side as more chaos erupted. Luveday watched only a moment longer before she set her pitcher down, took up an iron pole used to stir the fire and quickly wrapped the end in her discarded apron before standing on Elli’s stool and hit the large silver dish over the mantel like a giant gong. The resounding peal echoed through the Hall, and everyone froze, turning to the source of the noise.

  Luveday stared hard at Iain, who looked at her, stunned for a moment, before gathering his wits and issuing orders. The minstrels looked at her with expressions of amusement and respect as the hall immediately settled back into place. Apologies were made, but several guests left their seats declaring they would be leaving in the morning, before marching off to their rooms, Lord Albin among them.

  “Luveday,” Elli whispered in awe as she stepped off the stool.

  The lady turned to her friend as Emmalyn quickly joined them beside the hearth. Emmalyn’s smile was ear to ear as Christabel and Adela swept passed them. The young lady’s nose was in the air, and she spared not even a glance to anyone as she passed, while Adela looked Luveday in the eye for only a heartbeat and nodded as she followed after her mistress.

  Emmalyn beamed at her. “I do not know where you get some of these ideas, child, but that was one of the most brilliant things I have ever seen.” The women moved away from the minstrels who were collecting their things and heading out to the stables where they slept comfortably in the hayloft. “Swords were almost drawn and with one move you quelled the trouble.” The lady almost laughed, she was so delighted.

  Lord Henric walked by, he stopped a moment to wish Lady Emmalyn a good night, but the entirety of the short conversation he spent glaring at Luveday. The serving women began clearing the tables as men quickly departed. They chatted amongst themselves and sent grateful looks toward Luveday who nodded in acknowledgment of their praise.

  It seemed like it took only moments for the Hall to empty. Iain and a group of men still crowded around the high table as the ladies watched from their spot by the fire.

  Emmalyn rested her hand on one of Luveday’s arms as the young lady stood with them crossed protectively over her chest. “You did well, Luveday. Very well.” Emmalyn looked at her meaningfully before moving off to talk to another guest who lingered near the stairs. Elli only looked at her with a grin before running off to the kitchens, where Luveday imagined the girl would replay tonight’s events to anyone who would listen.

  Luveday sighed, partly in relief and partly from exhaustion. She began collecting forgotten cups and plates around the fire. She wiped down the sitting area as the women readied the rest of the hall. Iain stopped at the bench and leaned over its back to watch her work for a moment. She glanced up to see him there and paused. Straightening, she gave him a quizzical look, curious that he hadn’t immediately gotten her attention. Was she in trouble? Luveday doubted it.

  They stood for a moment just watching each other, Luveday unconsciously tilted her head slightly to the left when she was curious about something and couldn’t know that Iain found the gesture endearing.

  “Thank you,” was all he said.

  Luveday nodded. “You’re welcome.” He left as Gregori came by to join him before they both went outside, and she went back to her duties.

  The next morning proved to be a mass exodus. Lord Albin and more than half their guests, left. Some had planned to move on soon and took the scene the night before as their cue to exit. Some wanted to carry the news of what had transpired to ears waiting to hear of Lord De Lane and the upcoming wedding. Some promised to return for the ceremony. Only a few were truly angered by what had happened, Lord Albin and his men most acutely felt they had been insulted. Lord Henric stayed a bit longer, long enough to have a talk with Iain in the solar and then leave, but not before stationing two of his men at Lander’s Keep, supposedly for Christabel’s convenience. Many took the gesture at face value, but Iain knew what Henric intended. It was a warning. Sumerland now had eyes and ears inside his keep, and Iain didn’t doubt the men would report back to their master at the slightest provocation. De Lane almost wished something would happen to bring Henric back to collect his daughter and call this whole mess off. That was wishful thinking. Henric would see this through, no matter what; De Lane was too big of a catch to surrender.

  Several days passed in quiet solitude. The last wave of summer crops was being picked. Luveday’s band of trees were heavy with fruit. The men continued to tend the orchard, though the rest were not doing nearly as well. Archer came to congratulate her and said he would see to the rest of the trees himself come spring. Overall, the land flourished.

  It was with some surprise that Luveday came across a hidden garden. Benedict helped her force open the iron gate that was overgrown with climbing vines. The garden was visible from the room Emmalyn and Elysant shared, but Luveday had never known of its existence. It was a secret garden, and from the looks of it, no one had cared for it in some time. The walls that enclosed the space were of the same stone as the castle and outer wall, though much shorter and thinner than their protective big brothers. Like the rest of the castle, there were hidden gems among the green chaos. There was a stone path under the weeds that blanketed the garden. There was a nook with a stone bench, and nearby a small stone basin tucked up against a wall that had a simple fountain though its water had run dry long ago. In the center of the garden was a large tiered fountain like one might expect in an Italian garden, though it was also empty of water, but full of debris.

  The garden became Luveday’s newest project, what free time she could claim she spent dividing between working in this garden, riding lessons and helping Henna with the dresses. She spent most of her free time there, which she had more of since their guests had departed. Helpers rotated in and out. It seemed as if she never had the same helper twice. It took a week for the garden to be cleaned up and trimmed down to its bare bones. Once the vines and roses were shaped into a manageable order, she began to think of ways to improve the space, to build back layers to create a special oasis. Iain had given her permission to do as she pleased, not seeming to care about the space one way or another though Emmalyn said his mother would spend most of her time there, especially when he was a child.

  It was another surprise when Sir Chadric and Catherine made their way to the castle and sought her out in her new sanctuary.<
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  “Here she is, Cathy!” Sir Chadric moved into the garden, his wife not far behind him. Coll held the old woman’s hand as they walked through the stone arch. “Hard at work, as usual, Lady Luveday.”

  Luveday got to her feet and wiped off the dirt from her apron. She had been planting some flowers from the castle’s vegetable garden. They had been doing poorly, too crowded in their beds, so Luveday had taken a few to add some color to a raised stone bed.

  Coll dropped off a large basket at the bench in the nook and helped Cathy walk the paved paths in the medium-sized garden. Luveday was overjoyed to see the little couple as she had not been able to visit them as frequently as she had planned.

  Sir Chadric looked at the fountain in wonder as the sunlight turned the three-tiered waterfall into prisms of shining rainbows of color. His wife made her way to the far side of the garden where only a few days before, Luveday had found a remarkable sight. In another nook that mirrored the archway over the gate, stood an almost life-sized statue of a woman. She was dressed in a flowing gown that was all one piece with only a belt at her waist to give the garment some definition. She wore a covering on her head that hid her features in shadow though a curling length of hair rested on one shoulder. The statue’s pose was relaxed, but there was something a little sad about her as she rested her right hand over her right collarbone. Her head was tilted down ever so slightly, and there was almost a smile on her face, just the corners of her mouth hinted at something.

  Cathy headed straight for her, and Luveday watched as the woman raised a hand to touch the hem of the stone dress. Luveday was hesitant to interrupt what she felt was a personal moment, so she greeted Sir Chadric as he stood beside the fountain.

  “Sir Chadric, it is good to see you again.” She hugged the old knight.