Candle in the Window Page 2

  “Aye, a whole generation of children have grown up with strife. There’s been no law, and the powerful terrorize those they should protect. The memory of these last years chills my blood.”

  “I understand. My own lands, the lands my father left me, are slowly being eaten away by the ‘kind neighbors’ seeking to care for them.”

  “Doesn’t Lord Theobald fight?”

  Saura’s mouth lifted in a sneer, all the more effective for being natural, unseen by her on any other human. “It is too cold for Lord Theobald to go out.”

  “I see.”

  “Forgive me for my petty interruption. My hunger for news dissolves my manners and my sincere interest in your son’s tale.”

  “Do not apologize. Your interest in the country’s welfare has given me a moment to steady myself. I still can’t talk about William, you see, without a pain in my heart. It makes me so angry, for he was injured for nothing. Nothing!” He turned his head back and forth, seeking to dispel the tension that knotted his neck. “We had a battle with a neighbor, a modest skirmish. The most minor of fights.”

  “Your son was hurt?”

  “God, yes. Bashed in the back of the head. His mail hood left bloody imprints on his neck, his basinet helmet crumpled. We had to cut him out. It would have killed a lesser man, but not my Will. He lay like a stone for two days, and we were scared, Kimball and I.” Lord Peter shrugged his shoulders, uncomfortable with the unaccustomed sensation of fear, uncomfortable with the volatile emotion of love. “Well, he’s my only surviving son, and Kimball’s father. And there he sprawled, white and still and barely breathing, like a great oak knocked to the ground. He woke up, though. Just came roaring up, demanding breakfast and demanding that we light the damn torches. With the fire flickering on the hearth and the daylight streaming through the slits in the walls.”

  Saura bent her head in thought. “How long ago?”

  “Two months.”

  “He has his health, my lord?” she queried, tender with his grief.

  “Healthy as a horse. Well, he does have pain in his head. But what good is his health? He’s too old to adjust gracefully. He’s damn near twenty-seven years old. He earned the colée when he was fifteen, knighted for bravery in the field of battle. He’s overseen the management of his mother’s lands all these damn dark years since old King Henry’s death. He’s a big man, by God, he has legs like tree trunks and shoulders that bulge with muscle. He’s a fighter and a man of action, but now he won’t go outside, he’s ashamed to have the folk see him and afraid of making a fool of himself. He won’t do anything inside.”

  “Because he’s afraid of making a fool of himself?” Saura understood, her insides clutching as she recalled moments of being a fool, moments filled with the sound of careless laughter at her own pain.

  “Exactly. And because he wants to be outside. He won’t accept help, he won’t help himself; he just sits and broods and drinks.”

  “He’s pitying himself.” Maud snorted.

  “He’s tangled in it.” Saura nodded, touched by the real torment in Lord Peter’s voice, the gruff call for help. “There’s only one thing to cure it, my lord, and that’s a swift, brutal kick in the seat.”

  “I can’t! I’m crippled too, crippled by my love for the boy.” Responding to the sway of the women’s bodies as they bent protectively to him, he stuttered with awkward emotion. “I know you not, barring the little I have seen tonight, but I can see, Lady Saura, that you’re a good woman caught in a bad situation. Your stepfather leers at you, and he’s a weak man.”

  “Ye decided that quickly enough,” Maud said.

  “I’m a warrior. There are times when my life depends on my judgment of character and circumstances.” He stared at Maud, and Maud stared back at him and nodded. “I can help you, and what I’m going to suggest will assuage all of our discords. I admire you. I admire the way you handle yourself, your life. I admire your spirit. I would like you to come and live with me.”

  A growl from Maud interrupted him and he held up his hand. “Peace, old woman. I don’t want her for any dastardly reason. Just to live at my castle for a while. She could help me with William, tell me how to help him, perhaps she could help him herself.”

  “And if this William of yours refused her help, ye old fool, then where would we be?” Maud blazed. “That slimy whoreson downstairs would never let us return.”

  “Which would be worse?” Saura twisted her mouth with disdain. “Starving to death in the wilderness or living beneath Theobald’s roof?”

  Lord Peter stroked his chin. They raised a legitimate complaint. If Saura left her home of her own free will and William would have none of her, what would they do with her? A stray bit of humor brightened his face.

  “I could take Maud as my mistress and refuse to part with her.”

  Maud snorted.

  “Does she always express herself so disdainfully?” Lord Peter asked Saura, touching her hand with an indulgent finger.

  “Always. It’s the way she gives her opinion of the world.” Saura smiled into his face, an amused and thoughtful smile. “But I expect you would be good for Maud. She’s not nearly as old and tough as she would have you believe.”

  “I thought your lady wife would have your gizzard on a platter,” Maud snapped.

  “For dealings with a young woman. And Lady Saura is too young. My wife painted quite a vivid picture of an old goat like me with a girl. But were she alive today, rest her soul, she would approve of you, Maud. Believe me, you and she are two of a kind.”

  Glaring at the man, Maud was jolted into awareness of the warrior before her. His skin was mottled from too much sun and scarred by too many battles, but his fighter’s build was attractive. His thinning hair shone with health and his brown eyes twinkled. He had most of his teeth, and he used them all when he smiled knowingly at her.

  “I am a widower. So is my son, and his son is not yet married. Kimball is only eight. What we have is a bachelor household, and a dingy mess it is. Perhaps if you’re not happy here, you could be prevailed upon to come to Burke Castle as a housekeeper.”

  “Housekeeper?” Saura exclaimed.

  He slapped his knee enthusiastically. “Aye, that’s it! Because I fear William will refuse to accept help from you. You’re blind, and he doesn’t want to be taught by someone sharing his experience, doesn’t want to acknowledge his own plight. I’ve suggested it before. And you’re too young, and a woman.”

  “I can’t hide the fact I am a woman,” Saura said, “but there’s no need to tell him my age.”

  “Not tell him? I’ve never deceived him,” he answered, troubled.

  “But it’s necessary?”

  “Aye,” he agreed slowly. “Aye, it’s necessary. We’ll not tell him you can teach him, at least not at first. First, we will let you prove what a magnificent housekeeper you are. You could get that damned castle cleaned and the kitchen in better shape. If we didn’t tell him you are blind, he would never know, how could he? After you had been there a sufficient time and he was accustomed to you, we could tell him you are a dedicated teacher of the blind, a woman of, perhaps, forty, who has handled many students and taught them everything. He respects age and efficiency. Damn! I believe that is it!”

  “What does my mistress get out of this, ye old fool? A passel of hard work, all for a man she has never met,” Maud said.

  Lord Peter shifted, abruptly uncomfortable with the slope of the trunk. “In my household, women who dwell therein are treated with respect and not beat all out of reason or imprisoned for a peccadillo. Lord Theobald has a new wife, one who will some day be well enough versed to take over the housekeeping, whether any of you wish for it. And Theobald has no fondness for you. It is too easy to die by disease or accident. Have you given any thought to that?”

  Giving Lord Peter his first glimpse of the mettle beneath her quiet exterior, Saura impatiently slapped her hands together. “I’m not such an idiot that I never thought how a trip down
the stone stairs would affect me. But I do have my own meager salvation. My half brothers were all trained by my mother to protect me, and they have done so vigilantly.”

  Maud’s mouth turned down; she stared at Saura. “Aye, m’lady, but John has been sent for fostering, and Clare is seven and not much help.”

  “Rollo—” Saura began.

  “Rollo is your stepfather’s heir, and a good man who cares for ye, but he’s just married and in training for his knighthood. He manages your mother’s lands. He is so busy that something could happen to ye and it would be a month before he knew. Or longer. He avoids Lord Theobald at all costs. And Dudley studies for the Church. After Clare there is only Blaise, and he’s four. He’s attached to your new stepmother, and your dear mother’s teachings are no good to him.”

  “Make your point, Maud,” Saura murmured drily.

  “M’lady, don’t ye realize? Your brothers aren’t…ye’re teasing me,” Maud accused.

  “You do twist the knife a bit, my dear. We’ve refused to discuss my imminent demise for a reason. There were no choices. Now Lord Peter offers me an alternative to this wretched existence and my unreasoning reaction is to snatch it with both hands. Do you know how long it has been since I was beyond the boundary of this little castle? The seasons pass and I languish here, paying with the money from my lands for the privilege of keeping house for a drunken sot. Still, I wonder if you can convince my stepfather.”

  “Aye,” Maud agreed. “Theobald will not let her go, just for spite.”

  “Let me talk to your stepfather.” Lord Peter grinned in anticipation. “I’m a rich man, a powerful man. He’ll pay heed to me one way or another. If he fails to see that having a connection in my household would add to his consequence, perhaps the threat of a summer siege would move him to sense.”

  Maud laughed out loud. “That’ll make the sorry lout see reason.”

  “I wish I could hear it,” Saura said. “Well, if you can convince Theobald, and if sober, conservative Maud thinks I should go, then go I will.”

  Maud answered with a glimmer of humor. “Ah, m’lady, I never planned to go haring off with this gentle lord without references. I shall check Lord Peter’s reputation with his servants.”

  Saura reached out and caught Maud, sliding her hand down the arm to Maud’s hand. Lord Peter watched the grace with which Saura lifted the old maid’s gnarled hand and kissed it fondly.

  That was what he wanted for his son. That ease of movement, the ability to judge the limitations and adjust. She had to come. She had to. William was desperate and dirty and lost. He needed direction, and this accomplished girl was the one to guide him. Lord Peter decided to rush the defences. “I’ll give you my wife’s apartment—a private chamber with a huge hearth. We keep fires burning day and night. Burke is close to the coast, and I have many ells of material from France we bought for William’s late wife, Anne. You’d be welcome to them.”

  “Bribery isn’t necessary, Lord Peter.”

  “We’ll want to take Alden, too, Lord Peter,” Maud interrupted firmly. “He’s Lady Saura’s man and her mother’s before her.”

  “As you wish.” Lord Peter nodded at his ally. “My home is three days’ ride from here, and the snow is deep, but I would gladly buy a cart.”

  Saura winced. “I can ride, sir, on a leading rein, and I assure you I prefer the motion of a horse to the hard bumpings of a cart.”

  “I go to arrange both at once.” Lord Peter rose hastily.

  “Wait!” Saura commanded, holding out her hand. “The snow is deep.”

  “Dress warmly and pack all your clothes, Lady Saura. As soon as the storm weakens I must go. Burke is my primary keep, stronger than the others, but even so I worry about William, alone and in the dark. He’s helpless in a way you cannot imagine, still endowed with strength and determination but unable to find a way to proceed.”

  “Do you want me to pity him, my lord?”

  “Yes, pity him. He has always been clear and direct, full of hearty laughter and great rages. Now his rages are unrelenting and self-directed and his laughter has disappeared. Please, Lady Saura,” Lord Peter took her hand in his trembling grasp, rubbing his calloused fingers across her chilled skin. “Please come. I know my William is there somewhere, buried beneath the mountain of anger and disgust. My son is still there, but only lost. Please help me find him.”

  Shaken by his appeal and his unexpected eloquence, Saura quelled her doubts. Sighing, she rubbed her fingers across her forehead and nodded. “I will think, and I will pack. Your situation cannot be worse than mine is here, and perhaps I can help your son. No doubt I can set your house in order, with the assistance of my good right hand, Maud. See what you can do, my lord. See if you can convince Lord Theobald to wish me Godspeed.”

  “What is that smell, Maud?”

  “I’m not sure, m’lady, but I have my suspicions.” Maud marched into the rushes that covered the floor and gingerly lifted them with the toe of her shoe. “Decaying rushes, I suppose, and God knows what underneath.”

  Pinching her nose,-Saura answered, “Well, I know what’s underneath, I don’t need the Almighty to tell me. Is this the great hall?”

  “If ye want to call it that. Hospitality’s not the strong suit in Lord Peter’s castle.”

  As if to give the lie to her words, two gigantic dogs bounded toward them, barking an enthusiastic welcome. Maud swatted at them with her open palm. “Back, sirs.”

  One dog bounded away, the other stood sniffing at Saura’s skirt as if it were a meat-laden bone.

  “Away, dog!” Maud clapped her hands at the animal, but its growl sounded deep and clear, and she stepped back.

  Calmly, Saura reached out her hand and let the dog assess it.

  “M’lady, that lolloping beast will bite it off,” Maud objected.

  “Nonsense,” Saura returned. The dog tasted her with a dainty lick of the tongue and then fought to get his head under her hand. When she obliged by scratching around his ears, he quivered with ecstasy.

  Maud laughed with unwilling amusement. “If ye could only see him, m’lady. He stands with such a clottish look of heaven on his droopy face.”

  Snapping her fingers, Saura ordered the dog behind her, and he obeyed with all the eagerness of a devoted servant. Placing her hand on Maud’s shoulder, Saura inquired, “Does this place look as bad as it sounds?”

  “I’ll not close my eyes on this group to find out how it sounds, thank ye. I thought Theobald fed a rough bunch, but it seems no one is in control here. We got here just in time, m’lady. They are taking advantage of Lord Peter.”

  The heavy clomp of feet behind cut them off. “Find your way, Lady Saura?” Lord Peter asked heartily. “Come in by the fire. You’re dripping with snow and shivering with cold. I hope this is the last storm before spring.”

  “I doubt I would have had the courage to come, my lord, if I had known the condition of the roads,” Saura advised him.

  “Dreadful, aren’t they?” he agreed. “Since the breakdown of the government, nothing’s been done for them, and they were none too fine to begin with. Did the cart help?”

  Exasperated, Maud voiced her displeasure. “A bumpy, uncomfortable ride most of the way.”

  “Most of the way?” he asked.

  “Aye, except when it stuck in the snow and the mud and we had to climb out to let the horses pull it out. What manner of madman would ignore the signs and go out in such a tempest?”

  “You should be grateful I did.” That silenced Maud, and he continued, “If it weren’t for the storm, we undoubtedly would have been set on by brigands. That’s another price we pay for the disorder that rules us.”

  “Lord Peter,” Maud snapped, “you’ll frighten m’lady.”

  “Damn, that’s right. I don’t want her to run away now that she’s had a glimpse—or a whiff—of the mess I’ve got her into. The place looks even worse than when I left.” Lord Peter took Saura’s elbow, but she gently disengaged her
arm.

  “Please, let me hold on to you,” she directed, putting her hand into the crook of his arm. “It is more effective.”

  “Grandfather!” The shout echoed across the smoky room, and a tall boy tripped across the rushes in his excitement. “Grandfather, you’re back at last! We were worried.”

  “Kimball, surely you weren’t worried about an old warrior like me?” Lord Peter leaned down to embrace the smiling youth. “I’ve been absent only three weeks. And you’ve grown since I left.”

  “You say that every time you come back. I can’t grow all the time. But I did lose another tooth, see?” Kimball contorted his lips to show his grandfather the gap, and then lowered his voice. “I wasn’t worried, not really. But when it started to snow, Father began to fret. He said the cold pained your joints and that he should be touring the estates and when you didn’t return promptly—” Glancing at the unknown ladies, he finished lamely, “Well, you know.”

  “I know. Thank you for supervising your father.” Lord Peter laid a solemn hand on Kimball’s shoulder.

  “You are welcome, sir, but who is that?” Kimball pointed a finger at the seven-year-old boy who trudged through the door with a manservant at his heels.

  Lord Peter swung around to see the miserable group from Pertrade huddled together, unwilling to approach the fire until properly directed. “Good God, Lady Saura, forgive me. Take my arm.” He again offered his elbow. “Let me take you to the hearth. Kimball, this is Lady Saura. She has come to be our housekeeper. She is a distant cousin of your grandmother’s. That boy is Clare, Saura’s half brother. I’ve taken him for fostering. Will you make him welcome, Kimball?”

  “Of course, sir. It is an honor to meet you, Lady Saura.” He bowed from the waist. “I hope you will be happy in our home.”

  Kimball obediently dropped back with Clare, and Saura heard him tell her brother, “Many thanks for coming. Grandfather’s a popular man for fostering, and I’ve always had boys to fight with. But since my father’s trouble all my friends left.” The boy grimaced dramatically, and continued, “You’ve saved me from boredom.”