The Merchant's Daughter (30 page)

But she didn’t want to push him away. He promised he would keep Stephen safe, and she realized she trusted him to do that. She heard his warm, deep voice say, “Don’t cry. All will be well.”

She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth and closeness of him. She sniffed, and Lord le Wyse handed her a handkerchief.

“I’m sorry.” She pushed back to wipe her nose and her eyes. She shook her head. “I-I shouldn’t be crying in your arms. It’s wrong. Please forgive me.”

“I do not feel wronged.”

His voice was so altered, so raw, Annabel looked up. Lord le Wyse’s expression was strange again, the way he had looked when she drew away from him in the upper hall after Sir Clement had finished his questions.

Slowly, he reached his hand toward her face. Her heart trembled in her chest as he placed his palm gently against her cheek. His thumb caressed the damp skin under her eye. “I will miss you,” he whispered.

Her skin tingled beneath his touch. She stared at his lips. They looked so inviting, so enticing. What would it feel like to kiss them, to feel loved? Before she could stop herself, she reached out and touched Lord le Wyse’s cheek with her fingertips, staring into his warm brown eye.

The rough texture of his beard against her fingers seemed to bring her out of the fog in her mind. She pulled her hand away and leaned back.

“Sweet saints above,” she whispered. Her heart hammered faster than any smith’s mallet as Lord le Wyse removed his hand from her cheek but continued to capture her gaze with his.

Now what had she done? What did it all mean? They both sat, pretending to be calm, but she saw something in his eye that told her he was reining himself in … No, she was imagining things. Her lord would never … think about … what she was thinking about. He would never think about kissing her.

Lord le Wyse closed his eye, breaking the connection. He turned his head slowly, as if the motion caused him pain, and stood to his feet.

Annabel also stood. “I must go. Mistress Eustacia —”

He nodded without looking at her. “You may go. Don’t worry. I won’t tell your secret unless I know I can keep both you and Stephen safe.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She hesitated, not willing to leave him. His shoulders were slumped and he seemed to be watching the laborers as they worked on his house.

After a few moments it seemed plain that he wanted her to go, so she turned and walked away.

He was sending her away to live with the nuns. She would be away from the inquest, away from Sir Clement’s questions, and away from Lord le Wyse and the disturbing feelings he stirred within her.

She couldn’t get to that abbey too soon.

Chapter
16

Annabel’s thoughts skittered everywhere while
she tried to help Mistress Eustacia cook. She dropped the basket that held the peas, strewing them all over the stone floor. She dropped the water bucket, spilling water over her feet. She dropped everything she touched until Mistress Eustacia sent her to the mill to inquire when the flour would be ready.

As Annabel walked along the dirt trail carved by cart wheels, a heaviness filled her chest.
Forgive me, Father God. I didn’t mean to betray Stephen. And as for Lord le Wyse, I shouldn’t be feeling this way about my lord.

But soon she’d be at the abbey, away from him and away from these strange sensations.
Then I’ll be good again, God. I’ll read your Holy Writ and pray every waking moment.
She couldn’t disappoint anyone there. At the abbey she’d be away from people, and away from temptation and these troubling thoughts.
Lord God, why does Lord le Wyse look at me in that way that makes my heart flutter like birds’ wings? Why did he touch my cheek? Forgive me, God, but it felt so good.

She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering as her cheek tingled.

“Annabel!”

She stopped abruptly. Stephen stood only an arm’s length away. A shudder convulsed her as she realized how close she’d come to smacking headfirst into her friend. She’d been walking with her head down, so lost in her thoughts …

“You didn’t even see me.” Stephen’s look of amazement made her aware of how odd her behavior must appear.

She shook her head, unable to make the effort to smile. “I was thinking, not watching where I was going. Forgive me. Are you well?” Cold fingers wrapped around her throat. What would Stephen say to her if he knew she’d betrayed his secret?

“I am. How do you fare?” He looked at her so intensely, and leaned toward her so near that she took a step back.

“I am well.” What would he think when she went away to the abbey in a few days? She couldn’t tell him, of course. Lord le Wyse had told her not to, and she couldn’t betray two people in one day. She would simply have to leave him a note.

Stephen stared at her again with that strange look. He swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob up and down, as though he were about to say something, then he closed his mouth.

Finally, he spoke. “I hear the bailiff’s condition hasn’t changed. He’s still asleep.”

Annabel nodded. “No one knows if he will recover.” That was why he was behaving strangely. He was thinking of the bailiff. Should she tell him that the coroner had questioned her? She never kept secrets from Stephen, but she was too ashamed of how much she had revealed to Sir Clement.

“I-I try not to think about it, but I dream about it every night.” That was when she noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

“Oh, Stephen, please don’t worry so much. I truly believe everything will be all right.”
After all, Lord le Wyse promised to protect us, both of us.

Stephen fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I know it was the bailiff’s fault for trying to hurt you, but I hope he doesn’t die. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“I know, but I’m sure God will forgive you. He will, Stephen.”

He looked uncomfortable and changed the tone of his voice when he asked, “How are you faring with Lord le Wyse? I hear he has a horrible temper.”

“Oh, no, he doesn’t.”

Stephen gave her a quizzical look.

“I mean, sometimes he can be harsh, I suppose, but he is good and fair and I can’t imagine he would ever mistreat anyone.” She thought about how kind he had been to her, how gentle, how he even comforted her …

“You like him, don’t you?” A look of surprise and amazement spread over Stephen’s face.

“W-what? Like him? Whatever can you mean? He is my lord. How can you suggest such a thing?” She clamped her mouth shut. She was protesting too much, as she inwardly cursed the blush that was heating her face.

A slow smile came over Stephen’s face. “I’ve been wondering if you would ever notice a man. Now I see — “

Annabel snorted. “You see nothing. I am only his servant.”

“But he is a kind man? I am glad of that.” Stephen winked.

Annabel opened her mouth to say something, she wasn’t sure what.

“I met a girl named Abigail,” Stephen said with a sheepish half smile. “She’s from Lincoln. Do you know her?”

“Oh yes, she seems nice.”

Was Stephen actually blushing? “She is nice.”

“Why, Stephen! Are you sweet on this girl?”

“Shh!”

Annabel looked for the source of Stephen’s sudden panic, and saw a woman was coming down the road toward them: Margery, the miller’s young wife. Annabel quickly turned to Stephen. “We’ll talk later, but please believe me when I say that everything is going to turn out for our good. And I know God forgives you.” She gave him a quick embrace before Margery got close enough to hear what they were saying.

Annabel continued down the road toward the mill. Seeing she couldn’t avoid Margery, she plastered a smile on her face and greeted the busybody blonde.

“Oh, Annabel! I haven’t seen you since the day before you went to work as Lord le Wyse’s servant. Are you well? Has it been simply horrible?”

“No, of course not, Margery. I am very well.”

“I told you then that you should marry. I couldn’t believe you refused to marry Bailiff Tom! And now he’s — no one knows if he’ll ever be well again. So many terrible things happening in Glynval. Everyone says” — she lowered her voice and glanced over her shoulder — “that the new lord is cursed. He brought all these hardships on us.”

“Cursed? That’s nonsense.”

“Well, just look at him! With that claw for a hand and only one eye. If I ever saw anyone who looked cursed, it would be him. Although I can imagine he was quite handsome before — But that temper! Everyone says he’s a perfect beast, yelling and growling at people.”

“Margery.” Annabel felt the anger rising inside her and struggled to stifle the ugly things she wanted to say. After taking a deep breath, she said, “I think it is a terrible thing to speak so of one’s lord.”

“But I —”

“Even if you are the miller’s wife, Lord le Wyse is still the lord of this demesne, and as such you should respect him enough not to spread nasty rumors about him being cursed. Cursed! That’s silly. And he is not a beast, he is a man, and a very kind lord.”

Margery narrowed her eyes. “You seem quite enamored with our new lord.”

“Don’t be foolish.” Annabel glared back at her.

“I still say he’s cursed, and you should have married the bailiff.” Margery looked away with a smirk. “But at least the hard work hasn’t affected your looks. You’re still as pretty as you were.” She looked down her nose at Annabel. “But I don’t know what good it does you if you stay an indentured servant and refuse to marry.”

“That’s nothing for you to worry about, Margery. Perhaps you should worry that the powerful Lord le Wyse will find out what you’ve been saying about him, spreading wicked gossip about him being cursed. If I were you, I’m not sure I could even sleep at night.” She smiled, wide-eyed, at Margery as she skirted around her and continued on her way.

She held back a chuckle at the fear that flickered over Margery’s face.

“Mistress Eustacia, do you think you would have been happy if you’d never gotten married?” She and her mistress were alone, indulging in a real bath at the stream — possibly their last good dunking before the weather turned cold — and it seemed like a good time to ask the question that had plagued her since Lord le Wyse mentioned the abbey. All the other maidens seemed so sure marriage was central to a woman’s happiness.

Mistress Eustacia stopped in the middle of washing her hair with the special hair soap Lord le Wyse insisted on sharing with his servants. Annabel had used the liquid soap before, as her father had imported some from India the last year he lived. Grabbing the flask, she lathered some into her own hair. She loved to rub it into her scalp then dunk her head, feeling as though all the impurities of the world were floating away downstream. And in this moment, the feeling was more welcome than usual.

While massaging in the hair soap, she kept her chin half-submerged under the water as she waited for Mistress Eustacia to answer. She held her breath, afraid Eustacia would ask what had prompted the question.

Instead, Mistress Eustacia stared downriver, as though she was seeing into the past. “I heard a priest once say that marriage was instituted by God for procreation, so we could have children. But that’s not the only thing marriage is for.”

The older woman became quiet and began splashing water on her neck. Annabel busied herself by scrubbing her own face and then her toes.

When Annabel finished, Mistress Eustacia was looking down at her. “Women want a husband of their own, someone to love them and protect them. Men want a wife to cook and clean for them, and the other privileges of marriage.” The mistress winked.

Annabel had to duck her head under the water to cool her face. She came up sputtering and asked, “Why did you marry? Was it for love?”

“For that and more. It’s a natural thing to want to be married, to want a husband and children.”

“Were you happy when you were married?”

“Aye, I was happy.” She smiled wistfully. Annabel knew Eustacia had borne four children, and one had died as a baby. “A good husband is a blessing, and children are a gift from God. My children and my husband were my whole life, along with helping care for Lord Ranulf and his brother and sister.”