Serpent (15 page)

Tacey took the needle, dumbly, looking at the sleeve in front of her as Jemma pointed out the repair work.
All the while, she was quivering in fright but there was something about these women that instinctively put her at ease. They were very kind and very gentle with her, something that had been missing for most of her life and especially as of late. She’d hardly seen a soul in over a year other than her brother and her brother’s knights. Now, here she was in the midst of strange women and hardly knew how to behave.

So
, very hesitantly, she lifted the needle, peering at the sleeve and really having no idea what to do. When she looked up at Jordan and Jemma, they were smiling encouragingly at her. She swallowed hard.

“I… I have not sewn much,” she said. “I am afraid I might make a terrible mistake.”

Her voice was so small and young-sounding, and she seemed so very lost and bewildered. Jordan’s heart ached for the girl as she sat down beside her.

“Nonsense,” Jordan said firmly. “Ye
canna make a mistake. All ye need tae do is stitch in and out, in and out, and follow the pattern. Here, I will show ye.”

Carefully, she took the needle and fabric from Tacey and began to carefully stitch as an example to Tacey. Tacey watched with a mixture of
apprehension and curiosity, glancing up at Jemma and Penelope and noting the kind expressions on their faces. She was coming to realize these women were trying very hard to be kind to her. When Jordan handed the material and thread back to her, she took it timidly.

“Are you sure you want me to help you?” she asked, looking at the women around her. “I would feel terrible if I damaged the dress. I would never forgive myself.”

She sounded so very beaten and sad. Penelope sat on the floor next to her, gazing up into the small, fine-featured face.

“Of course I want you to help,” she said. “You are Bhrodi’s sister, are you not? Think what it would mean to me to wear a dress you helped to sew. It would make you part of the wedding ceremony, would it not? That makes it special.”

Tacey gazed down into Penelope’s lovely face, studying it closely for the first time. When Bhrodi had come to her last evening and informed her that she would soon have a sister, Tacey was understandably surprised. And she was understandably anxious. But within the first few moments of knowing Penelope and her mother and aunt, she was coming to see that they were all very lovely and kind women. Her fear of the new situation, and of these unfamiliar women, was subsiding somewhat. She swallowed hard, struggling to summon her courage.

“I… I have not sewed in a few years,” she admitted. “I was never very good at it.”

Penelope was inspecting the sleeve in Tacey’s hand. “Nor am I,” she said. “That is why my mother and aunt are doing the sewing. Surely you must be good at other things?”

Tacey could feel herself warming to the conversation although it was difficult; she’d spent so much of her life in isolation because of her rare royal status that she’d hardly had the practice in social situations. She was a young woman literally locked in a tower for her own safety.

“I do like to draw,” she said hesitantly. “And I speak four languages. I also play the harp and sing, but it is difficult to play these days because… because….”

She was indicating her big belly and Penelope smiled, trying desperately to put the frightened girl at ease. “You must be very excited about the baby,” she said. “When is he due to arrive?”

The faint glimmer of warmth in Tacey’s eyes faded and she averted her eyes, looking at her lap. “I… I am not entirely certain.”

Jordan and Jemma, who had birthed
sixteen children between them, were listening carefully. “What do ye mean ye are’na certain?” Jordan wanted to know. “What does the physic say?”

Tacey seemed to shrink, her eyes riveted to her
belly. “There was a physic at first and he thought mayhap in early summer,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But he was not certain.”

Jordan and Jemma passed concerned glances. “What do ye mean?” Jordan continued, trying to be gentle but genuinely concerned. “Do ye not recall when ye had yer last menses? The physic would know based upon that.”

Tacey was still staring at her lap. Then, she lifted a boney hand to flick away a tear that had made its way onto her cheek.

“My… my menses… they do not come anymore
,” she said, confused by the question and trying very hard not to weep. “When I married my husband last year, he only… he was only fifteen years of age, you see, and… and he was killed and… I have been here ever since.”

Jordan, Jemma, and Penelope were all looking at each other with various stages of unease. Penelope was simply confused and concerned over the girl in general but Jordan and Jemma, as the older women, could see much more than that
. Tacey ap Gruffydd seemed very lost and forlorn, and incredibly neglected. Moreover, it seemed that she really didn’t know anything about her pregnancy, or even how it physiologically happened. Was it possible she didn’t even know the reality of how a woman became pregnant? Based upon those observations, Jordan could feel the rage building in her heart. Who could have done such a terrible thing to this tiny little woman? The mothering instinct began to run wild.

“Has no one tended ye, lass?” Jordan asked softly, daring to put a hand on
Tacey’s dark head. “Has no one bothered tae talk tae ye about this?”

Tacey appeared confused. “I… I do not know,” she said. “The physic told me I was pregnant and he told me I would soon have a son.”

Jordan was stumped. “But no one else?” she asked. “Has no one taken care of ye?”

Tacey nodded firmly, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. “My brother has provided very well for me,” she insisted, trying to sound as if she wasn’t totally alone and discarded. “I have a comfortable chamber and good food. And he comes to talk to me every day so I am not lonely.”

That wasn’t enough for Jordan; the entire situation was unacceptable. She stroked the girl’s dark hair to give her some measure of comfort that had evidently been sorely lacking. She couldn’t help herself.

“But has anyone
tended
ye?” she wanted to know. “Has anyone looked at the babe tae see if he thrives? Has anyone checked on ye tae make sure
ye
thrive?”

Tacey shook her head, daring to look up at the host of concerned faces around her. “Nay,” she said. “
But I am well and the babe moves around. He is well, too.”

“But who will come when it is time to deliver the babe?”

Tacey looked completely bewildered by the question. “My brother has a surgeon for his men,” she said. “He will be here.”

Jordan was outraged. “To deliver a baby?”

Tacey nodded hesitantly and with that, Jordan looked at Jemma, biting off words of anger. She did, however, throw up her hands in exasperation. And then she could remain silent no longer.

“I canna believe what I am hearing,” she said to Jemma. “Did ye hear the lass?”

Jemma was as disgusted as her cousin. “She is no more than a bairn herself,” she said. “She needs someone to look after her. Who would leave this child to fend for herself? And who wants a smelly old barber delivering the babe?”

“Outrageous!”

“Terrible!”

Penelope watched her mother and aunt
go into a private huddle. They were speaking in Gaelic, obviously about Tacey, hissing and whispering, and casting long glances at the young woman. Tacey watched them with great concern, fearful that she had said or done something wrong. When Penelope glanced at Tacey and saw the expression on her face, she hastened to reassure her.

“They are always like this,” she said, grinning to ease the girl’s anxiety. “They have sixteen children between them and they think they know everything about babies. I suppose they do.”

Tacey was eased, somewhat. Penelope’s manner soothed her a bit. “I would like to know something,” she said timidly. “I would like to know how to tend him when he is born.”

Penelope’s smile faded. “Has no one told you anything?”

Tacey shook her head. “There are only men around me,” she said. “What do they know?”

“No female servants?”

“My brother does not like them at Rhydilian. He says they are disruptive.”

Now it was Penelope’s turn to be surprised and mildly outraged. She turned to her mother and aunt.

“Did you hear what she said?” she asked. “She said there are no womenfolk here at the castle at all. No one to help her or tell her how to tend the child.”

That was it for Jordan and Jemma
. The older women set down all of their sewing implements and grabbed for their cloaks. Penelope and Tacey watched them mutter and grumble to each other as they donned capes. It was clear that they had a mission to attend to; what it could possibly be was anyone’s guess. But Penelope thought she might have an inkling.

“We shall return,” Jordan said, forcing a smile at Tacey because she looked so pale and frightened. “Take heart, lass. We shall make sure ye are well
tended and that the babe is well tended when he comes.”

Tacey was nearly beside herself with anxiety. “But… but I do not want to be any trouble,” she said. “Please do not bother my brother with anything. I do not want him to th
ink I have done something wrong.”

Jordan patted the young girl on the head. “Ye haven’t done anything wrong, lass,” she said. “And we will make sure to take care of yer brother.”

The last words were spoken rather ominously.

⌘

Bhrodi had no idea what he was returning to when the hunting party returned from their very successful jaunt. It was close to sunset and although the meat his men carried on their steeds would not be for this meal, it would make fine provisions for the feast on the morrow.

As the sons of de Wolfe returned to their encampment and Bhrodi’s men disbursed, Bhrodi headed into the keep. He found that he was very eager to see Penelope. She was all he had thought of most of the day
, an unusual occurrence. Usually, his mind was on his tasks or other important items. To have his attention garnered by a woman was something that hadn’t happened in two years. He’d missed it.

Penelope’s brothers, Patrick and Edward and Thomas,
had accompanied him on the wedding hunt. They seemed like decent men, but of course it was hard to tell considering they looked at Bhrodi as if he was a thief to steal their sister. Patrick, an enormous knight with pale green eyes, seemed to be the most amiable, but frankly, Bhrodi was a little intimidated by him. The man’s size alone had him leery, and his fists were as big as a man’s head, so Bhrodi kept a civil conversation with him and tried not to get within arm’s length should Patrick have an ulterior motive with his sister’s intended.

It was an odd sensation, really, for Bhrodi had never been intimidated by any man, ever. Even now, as he walked towards the keep, he found himself chuckling about
his fear of Sir Patrick. The Wolfe certainly had produced sons worthy of his legend. Bhrodi hoped he would do the same someday.

But the smile faded from his lips quickly enough.
Upon entering the keep, the first thing Bhrodi saw was a female serving woman in the smaller feasting hall. The woman was scrubbing the worn, chipped table that was the centerpiece of the hall. Confused, Bhrodi took a few steps into the hall itself to realize there were two more women inside; one was on her hands and knees, washing the floor corner where the dogs liked to sleep and the other one was cleaning out the hearth itself. There were clouds of ashes coming forth.

Bewildered, Bhrodi looked around to make sure he was even in the right castle. It looked like his but it certainly didn’t smell like it. The dog and feces smell had nearly been erased
. With a furrowed brow, he backed out of the hall and took the spiral steps to the next level where there were two chambers; his and his sister’s. He peered inside his sister’s chamber only to see that it was completely empty. Tacey wasn’t anywhere to be found, and he quickly realized the entire third floor was empty.

Now he was truly puzzled
as well as concerned. He took the steps two at a time as he made his way to the top floor where he had given his bride and her family free reign. The moment he hit the upper landing, he could hear the voices of women – heavy Scots accents mostly. He knew it was Penelope’s mother and aunt; he’d come to know them briefly over the past two days and had seen that they were very practical, mothering women. But cursory observations were as close as he had gotten with them. When he finally poked his head inside of the chamber where Penelope had been sleeping, he was hit by an astonishing sight.

Instead of one bed there were
now two. The second bed had been stripped down and there were two more strange serving women pulling off linens and fluffing up the re-stuffed mattress. On the bed against the eastern wall that was covered with hides and linens, he could see Tacey sitting there, propped up with pillows as Penelope’s aunt fed her something out of a bowl. Penelope herself was standing on a stool while her mother fussed with a beautiful ivory gown that was draped over her body.

Bhrodi’s confusion
took a dousing as his gaze beheld Penelope in the ivory garment; her hair, which he had only seen braided and bound to her head, was free and unbridled, tumbling in a great wavy mass down to her knees as she stood upon the stool with her back to him. He’d never seen such glorious hair. Penelope’s mother, a very lovely and young-looking woman for her advanced years, was focused on a sleeve but glanced up when she caught movement in the doorway. The woman’s pale green eyes immediately zeroed in on Bhrodi.