The Lost Lady Page 2

  Gregori chuckled. “It seems so, My Lady. I found her in the wood. She has lost her way; her companions have abandoned her, and she had nowhere to go.” He gestured to her. “May I present Lady Luveday of Sacramento. I fear she has come a long way.”

  The Lady Emmalyn looked her over, and Luveday returned her smile shakily. “You are welcome to our hospitality; it being what it is.” She gestured around her clearly aware of what was lacking about the keep.

  “Thank you, Lady.” Luveday felt more at ease, though not comfortable in their presence.

  A door slammed somewhere overhead causing most of the room to jump and look toward the source of the sound. Elli started so that the cups and pitcher on her tray dipped dangerously to one side.

  The young Ellie grimaced while Emmalyn offered her a comforting smile. The girl headed toward the stairs but was met by another harried looking woman whose black attire added a severe air to her wrinkled face. “What is taking so long, child?” Her appearance reminded Luveday of a nun, but her manner was kinder than her scowl implied. “My Lady is growing impatient for her refreshments.” She looked worriedly up the stairs.

  “I am sorry, Mistress Adela.” She started up the stairs, but the woman stopped her and took the tray.

  “Best stay here child, My Lady is overly tired from the journey.” There was an undercurrent to that statement, and Elli let the tray go without a fuss. The older woman headed back up the stairs with everyone watching her steady progress.

  Gregori watched the exchange with as much interest as his new guest. A puzzled expression crossed his face. Elli and Emmalyn exchanged a look once their companion was gone. “I take it the Lady Christabel has arrived.”

  “You are astute as ever, Sir Gregori,” Elli said with more than a hint of sarcasm, but the knight didn’t seem to take offense.

  His expression turned troubled. “He will not like that she has arrived so early.” He rubbed his chin and spoke to no one in particular.

  “No, he won’t.” Emmalyn agreed but seemed to shake herself. “Now, young Lady, come sit by the fire and tell me a bit about yourself and what misfortune has befallen you.” The Lady’s kindness overwhelmed Luveday.

  Luveday followed without thought. She was happy for the chance to sit down, but she’d never been any good at lying, and the vague details she’d given the knight were little more than that. Trying to come up with a plausible story to explain an extraordinary and unexplainable event was beyond difficult. What had all those time traveling heroines said? For once her mind went blank, and she could not remember a single line.

  Of one thing, Luveday was totally sure. She was completely alone. It was a first for her. She was close to her family, though their busy lives and long hours at work often left little time to see each other. Phone-tag was often a game they played, but she knew that if she needed them, her family would be there in a heartbeat. What was she to do now? The tears that filled her eyes were not contrived, she blinked them away, but Emmalyn had already noticed.

  Lady Emmalyn had a sense about people, or perhaps it was her age and experience, but she felt that this woman had come to them for a reason. Her generous spirit was more than willing to take on a companion and helper. The Creator knew Lander’s Keep needed all the feminine influence it could get. “Now come, dear. Tell me what has befallen you.”

  And they sat in the two large carved chairs before the fire. Luveday rested her belongings at her feet, afraid to lose sight of them completely. She gazed into the fire, trying to gather her thoughts. She’d told Gregori little, as he had done most of the talking on the journey, no doubt to distract her. The warmth of the fire was comforting. The hearth was almost as tall as she was and twice that in width. It looked as if a whole tree burned within, in an attempt to take the chill out of the great stone structure.

  Glancing over at Lady Emmalyn, Luveday had an urge to unburden her mind, but she quickly squashed the feeling. She didn’t know exactly what happened to mentally unstable people in this time, but she was sure it was a fate to be avoided at all costs, and her tale was strange at best.

  Clearing her throat, Luveday tried to weave believable facts into the truth of the matter. “My family is gone. I was on my way to a distant relative who has been kind enough to take me in, but I think… I am not sure. I believe that was all a lie.” Luveday stumbled over her words, not knowing how credible a job she was doing. “We traveled far, farther than I’ve ever gone in my life, but I think it was all for the goods and little coin I had with me. The men seemed distant, and I had a feeling about them, but I thought it was just my imagination.”

  “That is often the case. The heart sees more than we may comprehend.” Emmalyn nodded as Elli arrived with large earthenware cups full of a steaming liquid. The Lady took one, and Elli offered Luveday the other.

  Elli’s eyes no longer held an edge of disapproval, they now overflowed with sympathy and Luveday, not for the first time, wondered at the life of a young woman here. The girl looked to be around sixteen, yet there was something in her eyes that spoke of experience.

  “My father’s estate, everything, went to a distant relative. My only hope was traveling. I don’t know how I ended up in the woods. I woke up in a clearing, far from the road. Lost in an unknown land.”

  “You must have been frightened,” Elli said.

  “Truthfully, I couldn’t understand what was going on. I did not believe it. I didn’t have time to be afraid. Sir Gregori appeared and brought me here.” Luveday held the warm cup in her hands.

  Emmalyn nodded, “A blessing.” She sipped her tea and looked the young woman over. Yes, the woman was here for a reason. “Everything is gone?” She asked not overly concerned; they could provide something suitable for a simple Lady.

  “What little I have is in these bags.” She looked down at the gray backpack taking a brief stock of her possessions. She’d bought the pack a few years back because it looked more professional. It was the adult version of a backpack that was able to carry her laptop, which was back in the hotel room, yet still able to stash all the personal items she might need on the go. Annalisa, her eco-friendly, all natural, English teaching older sister had called it her mom bag. Annalisa had two beautiful girls, Abigail who was five, sandy blonde and in charge, just like her mother, and Seraphina who had just turned three and had the darker coloring and logic of their father, Mark. Annalisa had laughed because out of the two of them her own pack was truly a mom bag, with the plastic baggie full of Cheerios and the random happy-meal toys in comparison to Loveday’s pack.

  Luveday hadn’t been insulted by her sarcastic remark, because she knew it was closer to the truth than anyone realized. She organized with makeup bags and pencil cases. Thanks to their mom, she had a super-duper upgraded first aid kit along with dad’s version of an emergency survival kit. Though what dangers they thought she might encounter in Sacramento, California was a mystery to her. She wasn’t really suited for the zombie apocalypse, had never even touched the emergency kit that lived in the bowels of her pack and had only pulled out two band-aids from the first aid bag. Her parents lived by the motto, be prepared. Mom was a nurse and Dad owned his own construction business. He was a man’s man and had taken the family fishing and camping in her youth, both activities Luveday had never really enjoyed for themselves. All things considered, a survival kit wasn’t that ridiculous a thing to have she supposed. They might even come in handy, lost as she was.

  The rest of her “mom bag” was full of the usual purse items: makeup and feminine products, some toiletries she’d thrown in for the trip, she’d had to mail them to the hotel via UPS to get around the flight regulations. There was also her wallet and day-planner, her cell phone and I-pod. What else might be floating around in there she didn’t know.

  The tote was a separate issue. Luveday had been window shopping on her day off in that lovely New England town and picked up two outfits at a trendy thrift store to replace the stained and damaged items that hadn’t survived
two days on the business trip. She’d found a cute pair of gray flats to match the new outfit of a gray blouse and vest she planned to pair with the full-length black skirt she’d also found. She’d picked up a white blouse and a navy long skirt, with a pair of Victorian looking half boots. The stop at the thrift store had been very lucrative; she had even bought the tote to carry it all in. Everything for under twenty dollars, she’d mentally patted herself on the back at the time.

  Walking along the shops she had come and gone on a whim, she’d picked up some books from an old bookstore, some small items from vendors along the street. All in all, her worldly possessions didn’t add up too much. The practical voice in her head said that it wouldn’t get her far. She didn’t want to end up like Jane Eyre, failing to sell her gloves for a round of bread and starving on the moor. She didn’t have much hope for the charity of others, though looking at Lady Emmalyn she thought she might be wrong.

  Luveday’s mind was jostled from her thoughts as she realized that Lady Emmalyn was speaking again, though it seemed she was talking to Luveday, her voice rose several degrees, and she realized Gregori and some other men were drawing near. “Lady Luveday has agreed to stay with us. Elysant and I need the companionship.” The lady stated matter-of-factly, looking between the group of women. The serving girl, Elli or Elysant, looked pleased. Luveday looked at the younger girl’s kind eyes and thought she might have just found a friend on this otherworldly adventure.

  The gray pea-coat landed on the arm of Luveday’s chair. Startled, she looked up into the smiling face of Sir Gregori. “Welcomed news.” His deep voice was sincere. “Welcome, Lady Luveday.”

  Smiling awkwardly at both of them, she said with all sincerity and no small amount of relief, “Thank you, Sir Gregori, Lady Emmalyn. Thank you very much. I will never forget your hospitality and generosity.”

  Lady Emmalyn blushed. “Oh, come now, dear.” She rose and set her empty cup aside. Turning to Elli who had taken up a stool at the edge of the hearth, she wondered aloud. “Where to keep you?” She and Elli exchanged another look. The young woman’s face was full of concern.

  Gregori spoke first. “The guest chambers are open.”

  “That’s no place for a lady, Sir Gregori,” Elli commented, which only puzzled him.

  The knight looked to the men behind him, who were listening to the conversation. They looked away without a word. “We do not have any guests at present…”

  “The rooms are a disaster.” It looked as if Lady Emmalyn had trouble getting the words out. “They are not fit for a dog.” The sigh that came for the lady was matched in intensity by the scowl on the knight’s face.

  The men, giving up on whatever reason had made them linger, were suddenly scarce. Gregori watched them flee; his expression growing darker. It seemed they had momentarily forgotten about Luveday as they spoke. “The villagers have not returned?”

  “A few women have come, but most avoid the keep as if they will catch the pox.” Elli chimed in wiping a curling strand of brown hair behind her ear.

  The knight ground his teeth. Emmalyn spoke to smooth the situation. “Can you blame them? After the folly with Steward Keen, there is no love lost between them and this castle. We are lucky Agnes, and the others work so diligently.” Emmalyn straightened her gown in a nervous habit. “Truth be told, we don’t have enough people to get anything done, and Elli and I know not where to start.”

  Gregori nodded solemnly. Luveday suddenly understood. There was a rift between the castle and the village, and nothing the lady did was helping. Luveday got the impression both women had not been in residence for long, and whatever Steward Keen had done, he was the major cause for the current strife.

  Gregori turned to their new guest. “Perhaps she might stay with you, lady.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t do, boy. I have given my room to Lady Christabel and her maid. Elli and I share the far room. Henna sometime sleeps in there as well. She cannot stay with the women in the sewing room.”

  Elli shook her head in agreement.

  Luveday decided to speak up. “I do not need anything grand. A small space would be fine.”

  A light seemed to turn on in the Lady’s mind. “A small room, yes.” She turned to Elli who seemed to be on the same page.

  Nodding the girl smiled, her light blue eyes shining. “My Lady, the room does have a window. There is a bed in there; we just need the men to move some of the other things out.”

  “Yes, it will work.” Emmalyn declared.

  Gregori looked at them with a smile. “How may I be of assistance, Ladies?”

  The chill was slowly fading thanks to the brazier in the corner. The bed was low to the ground, solid wood with a rope grid to act as springs. The headboard was wide and plain, but the bed and linens were clean. The straw mattress was fresh and smelled of lavender. The rest of the long narrow room was bland being made entirely of stone. The one good thing was the gothic arched window with its heavy shutters at the far end situated over the bed. The single bed took up the width of the room, situated in the only place it could, at the far side of the room. There was also a wooden chest that looked as if it had belonged to Black Beard himself, a three-legged stool, and a carved chair, sans a cushion. Some pegs stuck out in the gaps between the stones that made up the walls, pegs to hang up her clothes, she guessed.

  Luveday surveyed the room with a sense of accomplishment. Gregori looked doubtful, while Elli and Emmalyn looked tired.

  “Are you sure you wish to stay in here?” The knight asked for the third time.

  “It is lovely, Sir Gregori. A room of my own is no small thing.” The two other women agreed, pleased with Luveday’s response.

  Emmalyn leaned against a table in the crowded hallway. Though Luveday would have loved to keep more furniture in the room, the large scale just didn’t make it practical. Fifteen feet long and a little over six feet wide, the room’s dimensions leant themselves toward minimalism.

  The men returned to the top of the stairs and took the next item down. Gregori had been less than pleased when they had opened the storage room beside the Lord’s solar.

  Elli watched in wonder. “Where did all these pieces come from?” She had asked as they began clearing out a storage room. The women had clearly had their eyes on its contents for some time but had yet to tackle the task of looking through it. Who could blame them? The small room was packed ceiling high with furniture and odds and ends. The thick layer of dust told her this room had lain untouched for a long while.

  While the men waited in the hall, the ladies wrapped large cloths around their middles like aprons. Luveday rolled up her sleeves and took off her jewelry and stashed it in her backpack nearby. No one made a move, looking at the task before them, so Luveday stepped in and started handing out anything she could reach. Gregori and two men-at-arms, one Durstan who was gruff and rather crass, and Archer who was young and clean-shaven, were there to help. Luveday had taken charge after the women seemed at a loss on how to proceed.

  Furniture was pulled from the darkness of the room, piece by piece, and what was too heavy for the ladies was handed over as the men stepped in.

  As the excavation had progressed, Elli and Emmalyn told her something about themselves and the lord of Lander’s Keep. Emmalyn was the lord’s aunt and recently widowed. “My nephew has not stayed long at the keep since it fell to him. He’s always been more at home on the battlefield than here.” The sad look she gave an ornately carved chair as she handed it over to one of the men spoke volumes. “I was surprised when he asked me to come to lend a Lady’s presence to the Keep.” She strained a little as she took a small chest from Luveday but continued. “I have been in residence for over a season, but there hasn’t been enough light in the day to get everything done.”

  Elli commented as she sagged under the weight of a square side table. “Not with the villagers refusing to help.” Gregori took the table from her with little effort while Emmalyn called her full name to chastise the
child.

  “I gather there is a rift between the castle and the people of the village.” Luveday prompted, her natural curiosity making her a little bolder.

  “A rift?” Emmalyn seemed to like that. “A chasm; ‘tis a good description. There might as well be a canyon between us and the village.” Emmalyn sighed and sent up a plume of dust that sent several of them sneezing. Once the dust settled and breathing became easier, she continued. “Iain has been gone for a long time. Being the King’s Champion has kept him on the road, and he left the keep in the hands of an untrustworthy man.”

  Luveday handed Elli a large potbellied ceramic vase. “Easy there.” She warned, but the girl had it. “Was he a cruel man?” She asked, imagining a man who looked like Friar Tuck and acted like Prince John.

  Gregori answered as he stepped between Luveday and a large hutch and shooed the women out of the room. “No. He hid his greed well. If he had not, perhaps we would have found out before he disappeared.”

  Emmalyn started to wipe her brow with her apron and thought better of it. “Steward Keen seemed a kind man, diligent and hardworking, but it was a lie. He was not cruel to the villagers, but he was not overly kind to them either. Iain sent him the spoils of his tournaments, and the goods the King bestowed upon him.” Emmalyn seemed wary of the tale, so Elli took it up.

  “Keen kept the coin for himself and let the castle and the village rot. He acted as if Lord Iain had abandoned them. There was no coin for repairs or to pay merchants. The villagers looked to the steward as the mouth of their Lord while Iain was away. Keen continually told them that there was left nothing for improvements, nothing to ease their burden when the winter was hard, and the crops were poor.”

  “And they grew to despise him,” Luveday stated flatly.

  “They care no more for him than they think he does for them,” Emmalyn said in equal defeat. “They pay their taxes, give their crops, but they give only as much as is lawful and no more.”