Page 39 of The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past #4)
THIRTY-ONE
Berwick-Upon-Tweed, Northumberland
Kate carefully edged out of bed and pulled on the blue woolen gown. The weather outside was improving, but it was always cold within the castle walls and she found herself gravitating to warmer spots, sitting by the hearth or by the window when the sun was out.
She pushed her feet into her shoes and pinned up her hair before creeping from the bedchamber.
Hugh was a sound sleeper and liked to sleep well into the morning hours, but Kate could rarely sleep past sunrise.
She began her day by going to the chapel, which had become her special place.
The chapel wasn’t in use, since the family preferred to go to the parish church on Sundays and Feast Days.
It was the only time during the course of the week when they came in contact with people from the neighboring estates, an opportunity not to be missed.
Kate was accustomed to the slow rhythm of the priory, but Eleanor and Hugh chafed at the solitude and looked forward to socializing and exchanging bits of news and gossip with the neighbors.
Being bedbound, Guy hadn’t gone to church the first few weeks he was home, but he’d been coming to services since the wedding, more because he was going mad with boredom than because he felt the need to commune with the Lord.
Joan herded Aileen, Jed, and Walter as well, mindful of their spiritual needs, but Alf always remained behind, fearful of leaving the keep completely unattended.
He locked the gates and didn’t open them again until the church party returned.
The castle chapel had been added about a hundred years ago, centuries after the original keep had been erected on this parcel of land.
It was small and silent, and had never been intended for use by all the inhabitants, only those who wished to pray in solitude.
There was a wooden altar with a silver cross and two prie-dieux upholstered in worn claret velvet.
The prie-dieux had seen their share of knees, mostly female, Kate surmised.
The only light in the chapel came from a round stained-glass window set high in the wall above the altar.
It was the chapel’s only luxury, aside from the cross, and Kate often gazed up at it after finishing her prayers.
The bright colors gave her hope, and reminded her of Holystone Priory and her happy time there.
Kate never complained, but she longed for the comfort of daily prayer.
Her marriage wasn’t unhappy by any means, but it wasn’t at all what she had expected.
Hugh was courteous, but he never really confided in her.
He wasn’t a man who was comfortable around women; he treated them much as he treated the dogs, with restrained affection and a complete indifference to their thoughts.
He spoke to Guy at length, and sometimes chatted with Walter while they practiced in the yard, and even with Adam, whom Hugh had begun to teach fighting with a wooden sword, but never to Kate.
Hugh was kind and affectionate to the boy, which allowed Kate to hope that he would be a good father to their children.
Despite his frequent attentions, she had not yet gotten with child.
It was early days yet, but she knew Hugh was disappointed, having assumed it would happen right away.
Kate didn’t enjoy lying with Hugh, but she didn’t dread it either.
She knew his pattern by now and simply allowed her mind to drift until he was finished.
He didn’t expect much of her in the bedchamber.
All she had to do was welcome him into her body and lie still until he was done.
Hugh always kissed her afterward and went straight to sleep, leaving Kate to her own thoughts, which were often gloomy.
The Earl of Warwick was still very much on Hugh’s mind; she knew that since she’d overheard him mention the earl to Guy on more than one occasion.
The invitation to the wedding had been Hugh’s opening overture, and he intended to try again when the time was right.
Kate dreaded being used as bait to facilitate an introduction to the earl, since she’d never actually met him in person, and didn’t relish being treated like a poor relation to be fobbed off at the earliest opportunity, but Hugh wouldn’t be deterred.
She hadn’t heard anything from her father, despite sending several letters, which Walter had dutifully delivered to the Grange.
Walter always returned empty-handed, having been refused an audience with Lord Dancy, so he couldn’t say with any certainty if her father had actually read the letters or simply thrown them on the fire.
Kate was desperate for news of her mother, so when she’d sent the last letter, she’d asked Walter to stop into the church in Belford and inquire after Lady Dancy from Father Phillip.
She was sad to learn that Father Phillip had passed away in May and a new priest had taken his place, a Father John, who was reluctant to share anything about the family with a young man he didn’t know.
Walter, being a clever lad, had decided to stop into the tavern for a tankard of ale and a chat with the proprietor, who remembered Hugh and Kate quite well, and was eager to talk once enticed by the glimmer of silver.
Walter was able to discover that Lady Dancy had died at the end of April, just about the time Kate and Hugh were married, having never recovered from the shock of losing her sons.
Kate assumed that her father was stricken with grief, but even in his darkest hour, he still refused any communication from her.
She prayed that, in time, Lord Dancy’s stance toward her might soften, especially if Hugh proved himself loyal to the Yorkist king, which he fully intended to do.
Kate’s only solace was her relationship with Guy.
He’d recovered sufficiently after a few weeks abed, but his arm still pained him and he suffered from frequent headaches and occasional loss of vision.
Guy managed everything on his own, but he could no longer wield a sword or lift anything heavier than a puppy.
One of the Scottish Deerhound bitches had given birth a few weeks since, and Adam brought the puppies into the keep for company.
He named them Angus and Hamish. Angus slept in Adam’s bedchamber, but he generously gave Hamish to Guy to cheer him up.
The puppy followed Guy everywhere, its warm brown eyes eager for attention.
Kate often bumped into Guy just as she was leaving the chapel in the morning, and they broke their fast together since Hugh and Eleanor were still abed.
After breakfast, they’d go for a walk. Guy needed to regain his strength after so many weeks of immobility, so they walked a little further each day, sometimes going almost as far as Berwick Castle, which rose above the River Tweed like a giant beast, peering from behind the curtain wall punctuated by nine watch towers.
Kate liked walking toward the castle and would have liked to go as far as the town, but since most people’s loyalty in this part of England still lay with the House of Lancaster, it was best avoided for fear of confrontation.
Kate and Guy usually turned back as soon as they came across the castle’s inhabitants or townsfolk.
Guy often spoke to Kate of his childhood and ambitions for the future.
Being the youngest brother, he’d always been overshadowed by William and Hugh, but now that he was nearly five and twenty, he was ready to think for himself, a development that Hugh wouldn’t welcome.
Despite Adam inheriting the title, Hugh enjoyed playing the lord of the manor too much to countenance any opposition from anyone.
He’d stepped into William’s shoes and meant to remain in charge until Adam came of age.
There were moments, during the darkest hours of the night, when Kate allowed herself to believe that Hugh wouldn’t be too heartbroken if Adam never reached adulthood.
He’d grieve for the boy, since he seemed genuinely fond of him, but Adam’s death would mean Hugh’s ascension to the baronetcy, something he coveted above all else.
Guy never spoke of Hugh’s ambitions in that regard, but Kate knew he kept a watchful eye on Adam and often frustrated Hugh by putting a damper on his plans.
Guy was the voice of reason, whereas Hugh was the force for change.
Kate didn’t have much say in any significant changes, but one aspect of her life she wished to improve was her relationship with Joan.
Joan had been the true lady of the house in everything but name since the death of Marie de Rosel.
She’d run the household and raised the children, and continued to rule the roost even after William married Eleanor.
Joan should have stepped aside and allowed Lady de Rosel to take her rightful place in the household, but Joan was too set in her ways and Eleanor too timid to assert her rights.
In truth, Kate didn’t think Eleanor minded.
She was the kind of woman who preferred to have someone else make the decisions for her, and deal with the consequences as well.
She was only too happy to surrender the running of the household and even the raising of her son to the formidable Joan, who treated her like a dimwitted child, to be scolded and rewarded as the situation demanded, but Kate would have none of it.
Eleanor was still Lady de Rosel, in name, but Hugh was the head of the family, which made Kate the acting mistress, and she would not permit Joan to usurp her place.
Lady Dancy had taught her daughter much, by lesson and by example, and one of the most important pieces of advice, before the decision had been made to send Kate off to the priory, was that the mistress of the house should always keep her servants in line.
Joan had initially welcomed Kate into her domain, but did not take kindly to her interference once she realized Kate wouldn’t get bored and return to spending her days with Eleanor in the Lady Chamber.
Kate tried to suggest minor changes, or propose certain economies, which Joan wouldn’t countenance just on principle.
She would not give up her place without a fight, and Kate was beginning to suspect that she’d not adhere to any rules of combat.
Joan tolerated Kate in her kitchen but was often resentful and abrupt in her eagerness to drive Kate away.
Kate supposed she could understand Joan’s feelings, given that she’d ruled the roost since the days of the last Lady de Rosel, but some part of her refused to let Joan have her way.
Kate was respectful and polite to the older woman, but she did insist on certain minor changes in the running of the household, which angered Joan and fed her resentment.
Kate noticed that Joan kept a watchful eye on everything she did, and at times seethed with baseless jealousy, as if Kate had stolen the affection of her boys from her.
Joan was particularly possessive of Guy, whom she still saw as her ward.
Kate and Guy’s relationship was innocent, but if Joan’s sly looks were to be taken seriously, they had something to feel ashamed of.
Or perhaps it was Kate’s guilty conscience that troubled her and made her see something that wasn’t truly there.
Guy never made inappropriate comments or touched her without good reason.
He held out his hand to help her over a slippery patch, or kissed her on both cheeks when congratulating her on her marriage, but he never behaved like anything other than a devoted brother.
Kate herself was the problem. Several times she woke in the night, her cheeks flaming and her heart beating fast, and she realized she’d been dreaming of Guy.
In her dreams, Guy wasn’t the brother she loved, but the husband she adored, and the ache in her heart when wakefulness abruptly yanked her back to reality was a testament to how she truly felt about him.
She never dreamed of Hugh, nor did her body rouse to him the way it roused to Guy in her dreams, but Hugh was her husband, and she would be loyal to him in deed and thought, and Guy would forever remain her brother by marriage.