Page 36 of The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past #4)

Joan laughed and shook her head in amusement as if she recalled some particularly amusing incident. “They were a handful, I’ll tell ye that. Their lady mother, God rest her soul, compared them to horses once.”

“To horses?” Kate asked, so surprised she stopped pushing the pedal.

“She had a funny way with words. His lordship brought her from Normandy. She spoke English well but often translated sentences in her head from French, and they came out sounding odd. She didn’t have too many ladies of her station to talk to, so that didn’t help neither.”

“Why?”

“People are wary of foreigners,” Joan explained, as if that should be obvious.

“But the people hereabouts support a French queen.”

“Aye, that they do, but a queen is a queen, and a French woman is a harlot and a witch, best avoided.”

“That seems awfully harsh,” Kate exclaimed. She could understand how lonely Marie must have been, if her own experience of life at the keep were anything to go by.

“She was beautiful, and kind. She left us too soon.”

“So why did she compare her children to horses?” Kate asked.

“Oh, that. Marie said that Gulliume—that’s what she called William—was like a work horse: strong, steady, and hardworking. Hubert was like a destrier, bred for war. And Guy was like a pony: gentle and sweet, and perfect for children.”

“And Margaret? ”

“Margaret was like a newborn colt—shaky and frightened,” Joan replied, the smile having faded from her face at the mention of the little girl.

Kate liked the whimsical descriptions. She hadn’t known William, but both Guy and Hugh had mentioned that he’d been loyal, decent, and honest. Hugh, from what Kate knew of her husband so far, was aggressive, ambitious, and morally ambiguous when it suited him.

And Guy seemed sensitive and chivalrous.

“Funny how bairns born of the same parents can be so different,” Joan mused as she deftly skinned a rabbit. “Those boys had their own personalities from the day they were born, and no amount of schooling or scolding could change them.”

“What about Margaret?”

Joan shook her head in dismay. She never mentioned Margaret unless Kate asked about the child outright. Perhaps the memory was too painful. But Joan’s next words quickly dispelled that notion.

“Margaret was clumsy, and oblivious to all around her. Not clever and canny like her brothers. That bairn had no sense of self-preservation, so someone always had to keep an eye on her, even once she got too old to be minded round the clock,” Joan added.

“Guy blames himself for her death.”

It was difficult for Guy to speak of his sister, but he’d shared with Kate that Margaret had drowned in the river when she was only five.

She’d gone there with Guy, who had been distracted by something he saw and wandered off.

He didn’t see his sister slip on the mud and fall into the river.

Margaret’s desperate screams got Guy’s attention, but it was too late.

The waterlogged skirts had dragged the struggling child under before he got a chance to call for help.

He’d nearly died himself, trying to rescue her, but she’d drowned nevertheless, and her body hadn’t been recovered until it washed up downriver and was found by one of the de Rosel tenants .

“More fool he if he does,” Joan snapped. “Margaret was old enough to know not to come too close to the river. She just wasn’t paying attention, as usual. It weren’t Guy’s fault.”

“That’s rather a harsh view of a child’s death.” Joan hadn’t liked Margaret, that was clear, and wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“There are those who are taken from us through no fault of their own, and there are those who run toward their own end.” Joan finished with the rabbit and reached for another one, whacking off its head before she carefully peeled the skin away from its body.

The fur would not go to waste, not in a place that was cold and windy even in the warmer months.

“Ye’d best check on those loaves afore they burn to a crisp. ”

Kate jumped up and hurried toward the hearth. She’d clear forgotten about the bread as she listened to Joan. There was much to learn, and some of the most important lessons would be taught here in the kitchen. Kate took out the perfect loaves and left them to cool.

“Now, where’s that foolish lass?” Joan groaned. “Ye’d think I sent her to get water from the river.”

“Shall I go and see?”

“Don’t trouble yerself. She’s probably making cow eyes at Walter. As if he’d have anything to do with the likes of her.”

Kate didn’t reply. There was little point. Joan was a woman who spoke her mind and expected little opposition to her opinions. She was reliable, efficient, and capable, but kindness and compassion didn’t appear to be part of her nature, which was odd for a woman who had been employed as a nurse.

Joan turned toward the door when Aileen bustled in, carrying the water, a happy smile on her face.

Joan waited until Aileen set down the bucket before giving her a resounding slap.

“I won’t have ye dawdling. Ye hear me? No, ye likely don’t, but ye understand the sting of the back of me hand. Now, get to work, ye lazy slattern. ”

Aileen nodded in contrition and took her place in the corner, reaching for a bowl of peas to shell. She kept her head down, but Kate saw the sparkle of tears on her thick lashes.