The Lost Lady Page 4
Emmalyn gave her an apron and set her to chopping this or that. Luveday cleaned off the area where she was to work and taking up the basket of vegetables she found them still covered in dirt. So, she went in search of water and found the well in the bailey out the side door of the kitchen. She brought in two buckets of water and returned the pails to the well before washing the fruit and starting to chop. The knife she used was large and thick with a wicked looking edge that certainly got the job done. She worked fast having grown up in a household where everyone pitched-in.
Emmalyn gave her a cup of tea in a large earthenware mug. While it wasn’t as good as her coffeepot at home, the hot liquid worked wonders as it flooded her insides with warmth. “Lovely,” was all she said as she got back to work.
The women stopped for breakfast and served the men as well. Gregori was glad to see Luveday up with the rest of the ladies, though Christabel’s continued absence clearly displeased him. Luveday got the notion that he was not upset for himself, but on behalf of his friend, Lord Iain. Apparently, this was not the behavior of a proper wife.
“Back to work.” Elli proclaimed after her porridge was gone.
Luveday followed while Emmalyn talked to Gregori. The bits of conversation that carried over to her seemed to be about the future lady of the keep. Luveday had too much to think about to wonder about someone else’s problems. The day moved on at a grinding pace. She met three other women in the castle, Henna, whose red hair looked glorious on her and was similar in age to Elli. A slip of a girl was supposedly the best seamstress around. Beatrice was a dark-haired, buxom beauty, wearing a gown with a daring neckline. The woman reminded Luveday of a lusty barmaid; the comparison was rather stereotypical of her, but she couldn’t shake the connection. Beatrice didn’t seem to care for Luveday on sight, though they barely spoke two words to each other. Last was Paige who was friendly enough. She kept her head down and did her work and didn’t really talk to anyone. Her traits reminded Luveday of a country mouse from those children’s stories, but in a flattering way.
Luveday scrubbed pots and pans with lye soap that stung her hands and whipped off tables and swept floors but there was little improvement. As soon as one thing was done, it was time to start the next.
By the end of the day she was exhausted and ready to find her bed. Emmalyn and Elli had been right beside her. Mistress Adela had been the gopher for her lady who, yet again, refused to leave her chambers for more than a brief walk in the sunshine.
Though proud and beautiful, Luveday got the impression that Christabel was terribly unhappy, more so than just a childish refusal to join the rest of the group. Something troubled the lady. And for some reason, Luveday cared.
The next day dawned bright. Luveday washed in a bowl she’d received from Agnes. The woman had appeared and handed her a wooden bowl and a pitcher full of water with only the words, “For your room.” Then turned and walked away. Luveday suspected that was her seal of approval, as she carried the new items up to her room. The water was welcome, though Luveday missed a proper shower, she hesitated to ask about a bath.
Dressed all by herself, she felt a sense of accomplishment as she met Elli on the stairs. “Good morning, Elysant.”
The girl smiled and changed direction, clearly going up to retrieve Luveday. “Good morrow, Lady Luveday.” She was just as cheerful this morning. “Lady Emmalyn asks you to meet her in the kitchen again.”
“On my way. Thank you.” The girl turned back to her as she called out. “Oh, and Elli, you can call me Luveday.” Elli smiled wide, as Luveday was about to stride away across the hall Sir Gregori greeted her.
“Good Morrow, Lady Luveday. Up bright and early, I see.” He smiled at her but watched Elli. “Good Morrow, Elli.”
“Good Morrow, Sir Gregori.” Both women said in unison, causing all three to chuckle.
“It’s good to see you lovely young ladies in such good spirits.” He said off handedly and excused himself. “I have some exercises for the men this morning.”
“Until later, Sir Gregori,” Luveday replied and walked off, noticing that Elli started and rushed off to catch up with her.
The day progressed much like the last, but Luveday was given different assignments, a few of which she had to ask about before completing. Kitchen work was roughly the same no matter in what era one lived.
Luveday didn’t keep her questions at bay. She asked about the herbs they cooked with, went out to see the spring garden. She asked about candles and cooking meals. She asked about sewing garments and tending crops. They seemed happy to answer her questions, mostly because she listened intently to everything they had to say. Usually, it only took one time for them to explain something and Luveday had it down.
By the third day, the kitchen was in decent order, though the garden was looking poorly. Luveday knew a bit about a lot of things including gardening, and more recently organic gardening thanks to Annalisa. In the warming air, the women went out to tend the raised beds. Instead of stone containers, wood held in the dirt for the beds. Wooden stakes were driven into the ground every few feet and twigs woven through them like a great wicker basket. The natural structure did its job, creating raised garden beds.
Emmalyn and Elli worked on each side of her, pointing out what was edible, what was medicine and what could be weeded out. A good deal of things she would have tossed had medical properties, other things she would never have eaten ended up on the castle’s table. Emmalyn seemed pleased with her interest.
“And what is this?” The lady asked, holding up a green stem with rows of unopened flowers.
Luveday thought a moment and recited back what the lady had said earlier. “Figwort. Used for the cleansing of abscesses and poisons in the body. Good for cleaning the skin. Used to make tinctures, infusions, and washes. Helps with redness and dots on the skin.”
Emmalyn smiled, “Good. And this?” She held up a twig with a flowering top that reminded Luveday of yellow baby’s breath. This one was easier to remember as she’s heard about the plant before. “Elder. Good for coughs and throat mucus, fever and chills. Brewed in infusions, creams for chapped hands, tinctures for fever, and washes for inflammation. Berries are good for…” She had to think a minute. “Syrup and wine to help with coughs.”
Elli smiled at her.
“Very Good, Lady,” Emmalyn commented.
Elli plucked a few things to add to her basket. “Are you sure you do not know of healing plants?” The girl asked.
“My sister is…” Luveday paused before correcting herself. “My sister was the one to learn about healing herbs. I listened but paid her no mind.” Luveday smiled sadly. Thinking to herself, how long would it be before she went home? A part of her worried how easily she fitted in here.
Trying to comfort her, Emmalyn patted her on the shoulder. “You learn fast, girl. That is good.”
Agnes growled at the plants before her. “Look at this.” She held up a puny looking plant. Luveday couldn’t tell if anything was wrong or not. Emmalyn clucked in disapproval.
“Lady, the garden is doing poorly this year. Second year in a row. What will we do when summer comes, and we are overrun with guests?”
“We will meet that task when it gets here and not before, Agnes.” The Lady said.
Agnes glared at the garden as if she could intimidate it back to health. Mumbling under her breath, she took her basket back inside. The women continued to putter around the beds. Luveday took a closer look, curious and ready to put some of her know-how to use.
The beds weren’t infested with any pest that she could see. There was some bug damage, but without pesticides, there would be. The plants were spaced apart, well-watered but the soil quality looked poor. It was not the dark, rich earth one bought in bags at the local home improvement store. There was little green matter. Thanks to one semester of plant and soil science and Annalisa’s all-natural food crisis, Luveday knew what to do about it. She shoveled up buckets of ash, and chicken manure and began mixin
g them into the soil around the plants. She watered afterward. The women gave her wary looks but let her do as she wished.
Satisfied she returned to the keep with the rest of the group.
“Well, what do you say, Luveday?” Emmalyn asked.
Luveday was caught off guard by the suggestion. Learning to heal was a skill that would be more than useful. It could be life-changing. She had more than a basic idea of standard medical practices thanks to her mother. She was good at learning new things and retained knowledge like a sponge. She was even pretty good at handling blood, which she’d found out when Annalisa split open her foot after stepping on some glass as a teen. She had a certificate for CPR from babysitting, not that her mom hadn’t already taught her basic first aid and the Heimlich maneuver by age twelve. There were cons. Definitely, plague and death were the first to pop into her mind, but realistically she might be able to handle it. Taking a deep breath, she heard herself say, “It would be my honor to learn from you, Lady Emmalyn.”
The lady smiled at the formality. The girl had an odd way of phrasing things, and her accent was strange, but Emmalyn had yet to find a reason to dislike the girl. In fact, the last few days had proved her first impressions to be sound. “I don’t know how much of an honor it will be, child. But if you are diligent, I have a feeling you may surpass even my skills.”
Elli looked on happily. “Another healing woman will be a good thing for the village.” Elysant had jumped at the idea when Emmalyn had suggested it last night before bed. Luveday was a strange lady, like none Elli had ever met, not that she had met many, but she liked the new lady, much more so than Christabel, though Elli was trying to give the young lady the benefit of the doubt. She knew court ladies would find the keep a disgrace, far from the lavishness they were used to. Even at its finest, she wondered if the castle would ever suit its future lady.
The next day was more hard work with its own challenges and the evening was quieter than usual as the women waited for Luveday to talk about her short stay with Lady Christabel. Elli looked at Luveday, wondering what the two ladies had talked about earlier that day. Elli had brought up refreshments in the afternoon, only to find Luveday at the court lady’s door when she knocked.
Luveday knew that Elli was curious, but she need not have been concerned. Lady Christabel was little more than a child. Not in age, where she had confirmed her seventeen summers and to Luveday that was nearly an adult, for medieval times that might be getting on to middle-aged.
Earlier in the afternoon, after dropping her jacket off in her room, Luveday had been startled to find Mistress Adela in the corridor waiting for her. “My Lady wishes to speak with you for a while, Lady Luveday.”
Surprised did not begin to describe Luveday’s feelings. “It would be my pleasure, Mistress Adela.” She closed the door behind her and straightened her gown.
Adela smiled in reassurance. While stern in appearance, Mistress Adela was more of a hen protecting her chick then a bear. Luveday got the idea that the woman was trying to smooth things over between her lady and the castle, but the woman could only do so much. The Mistress ushered her in, announcing her as she closed the door behind them.
Luveday had not seen the interior of the chamber before, but it was everything she had imagined a medieval lady’s room to be. Tapestry’s hung on the walls, velvet curtains on the sturdy looking bed, cushioned chairs and footstools, large chests and hefty side tables lent the room a rich and full feeling. There was no fireplace in this room, but a brazier kept it from being chilly. Looking at the lady, she bowed slightly, not quite a curtsey, but Luveday acknowledged the fact that Christabel was above her station. “My Lady. It is a pleasure to meet you finally.” Luveday opted for formality, not knowing the protocol of court, she thought it was the safest bet.
“Lady Luveday, Adela has told me something about you. Please sit.” A sort of sitting area was before the large open brazier. The fire was rather lively, though not emitting a lot of heat as Luveday took a chair next to the lady. A small side table rested between them. Luveday noticed the chairs angled toward each other for better conversation. “I have heard of the misfortune that brought you here.” The lady seemed truly concerned. “I am so sorry that such a fate has befallen you and so happy you have found your way here. Fate could have been much crueler.” The lady’s eyes grew distant, and Luveday wondered if something hadn’t marred Christabel’s fortune. “But please, on to happier things. You are settling in well I take it.”
“Yes, Lady, I am happy to have found such hospitality and such a generous lady as Lady Emmalyn,” Luveday spoke matter-of-factly, not wanting to gush in front of another woman.
“I hear you have come from afar.” Christabel prompted.
Luveday had been building her back-story, converting her life into medieval terms that these people could understand. “Indeed. The journey took many days; it seemed we had been on the road forever. I cannot tell you where home is from here, but it is very far away.”
“Over the sea, or so I am told. The way you speak is very unusual.” Adela coughed catching the ladies’ attention. Luveday thought it might have been a warning to the lady, but for what she couldn’t say.
“Yes. The journey was rough at times, but I was not overly troubled by sickness.”
“Lucky. I have heard that wave sickness is hard on a woman. Some of the ladies at court have been very ill on such voyages, or so they profess. Lady Ann said she would rather die than undertake such a journey again.” Christabel looked at Luveday as if she suddenly realized something and seemed to change directions. “Did you have a chance to visit court, Lady Luveday?”
Luveday smiled, not wanting to give away anything. “I have not had the pleasure, Lady Christabel. I hear it is a marvelous place. “
“Oh, indeed.” Christabel warmed to her subject and began to recount everything from food and dress, to parties and funny antics of court life. The quick visit Luveday had hoped for was turning into something much longer. Luveday tried to listen attentively, not because she was overly interested in court affairs, but because she realized that Christabel needed someone to talk to. With Emmalyn being in the enemy camp, as it were, and Elli being somewhere between a servant and a lady, Luveday was the only one to fill the position of an acceptable companion. So, she listened, aware of how much being cooped up in this room was probably driving the young lady mad with boredom.
It was with a sense of relief that she heard a knock at the door, and offered to answer, letting Adela continue her needlework. Elli had brought up the Lady’s afternoon drink, with some cheese and fruit, Luveday took the tray from her and had the urge to beg the girl for some excuse to leave. The look she sent her had left a confused expression on the girl’s face as she thanked Elli and closed the door again at Christabel’s behest.
Declining to join in on the refreshments, Luveday made her excuses and left, telling the lady she would be happy to talk with her again.
Later that evening the events of that stay were the talk of the castle. Lady Emmalyn had not seemed offended that she had not been invited to chat with the young lady, though Luveday thought the woman knew more of what was going on with Lady Christabel than anyone.
Gregori joined them at the fireside and began whittling away at a chunk of wood. Luveday could see it taking shape but had yet to identify its new form. It was he that broached the topic of the secluded lady. “Has Lady Christabel health improved this afternoon, Lady Luveday?”
Luveday looked on as a few of the women hovered to hear her reply and could barely contain her smile. “I was unaware that Lady Christabel was feeling ill. She merely wished to ask about how I came to the castle. We talked for a bit. She told me a lot about her time at court.”
Elli and the women seemed intrigued, all except Lady Emmalyn and Agnes. Elli moved from her stool by the fire to sit near Luveday. “What did she say court was like?”
Thinking back to all she had learned from the other lady, Luveday recounted a few funny
tales, things she thought would entertain the women. The tale of a courtesan that had snuck into the King’s carriage to hide under one of the benches, only to be trapped there, was the first that came to mind. Even Lady Emmalyn laughed. “And the King left none the wiser.”
“So, Lady Hanna and her dog were both stuck in the carriage all day?” Elli asked clearly entertained, and Luveday nodded, happy to make her new friend laugh.
“I don’t imagine she’ll make the same mistake twice.” Lady Emmalyn chuckled to herself.
“One would hope not. I suppose these court ladies will do anything to be noticed.” Luveday could imagine the sort of antics they could get up too and almost shuddered.
Sir Gregori chimed in, “Aye. Some have gone to unusual lengths to gain the favor of the King. Though they have calmed down since he took his Queen.”
“Queen Augusta will not put up with their tricks. She is a strong and good lady.” Emmalyn seemed to have respect for the woman. From what Christabel had said, Luveday thought the royal couple was rather young though they had four sons.
“It sounds wonderful!” Elli sighed longingly. “Don’t you wish you could go, Luveday?”
“No,” Luveday stated a little too vehemently.
“Why not?” The girl asked, clearly shocked. To Elli court was a magical place, Luveday could see the wonder shining in her eyes. For Luveday, it represented something else entirely.
She spoke bluntly. “I shouldn’t be comfortable there. Who am I compared to those fine ladies? I wouldn’t know how to act. No doubt I would insult half the court before the first day was through,” She laughed in self-deprecation. “Then where would I be?”
Lady Emmalyn laughed, but Elli just shook her head. “You would do fine, Luveday. I know you would.”
Luveday was touched by the girl’s faith in her. “Thank you, Elli. With you there, I am sure it would not be so terrible.”