Medieval Ever After by Kathryn Le Veque, Keira Montclair, Emma Prince, Barbara Devlin Page B
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entered the cold, dark keep. “She will know as time allows,” Stephen replied. “She knows that I brought her the clothing.”
Tate snorted. “Good Lord, man, that’s the least of your generosity,” he fell in behind Stephen as they moved up the narrow stairs. “She should know the character of the man she has married.”
They reached the landing. “She will,” Stephen said, knocking softly on the chamber door. After several long seconds and no answer, he knocked again. Still no answer, he opened the door.
The room was empty.
The day was sultry and sticky. The moisture rising up from the river was as thick as a fog, cloaking everything around it. In spite of Stephen’s previous order to stay to her chamber, Joselyn had found her way from the castle and down to the river, thinking of the family she had lost. She felt so very alone. She needed time to clear her head, far from castles and knights and visions of blood.
Reaching the damp, sticky grass that grew in tall clumps around the river’s edge, she found a sandy bar near the water and plopped down on it, her mind a jumble of grief and fear. Clad in the lovely cranberry surcoat, she gathered her legs up against her chest, lowered her face onto her knees, and wept.
So much of her life had been out of her control. The day she went to Carlisle with her father was the worst day of her life; it had changed everything. Her father had been ashamed of what had happened but her mother, a sweet simpleton, had coddled and supported her. Even when they realized the soldier’s seed had taken root, her mother continued to protect her fiercely. It was her father who had insisted on keeping her hidden as her stomach grew large and round, hidden from family and friends alike. Her father had told everyone that she was visiting relatives in Aberdeen when she was really locked up in her bower of Allanton Castle.
The shame that had been instilled in her during that time still clung to this day. Everyone but her mother was ashamed of her. Now the only person who had never harshly judged her was gone and she wept painfully for the woman whose mind left her years ago. Joselyn wept for that sweet woman of memories gone by, of brothers she had once loved, and for a life that she would never know again. All of the tragic events from the past few months had overwhelmed her and she felt like she was living another life, one she did not recognize or like. It was like hell.
Something shuffled off to her right and she looked up to see a doe and fawn, a few feet away, drinking from the river’s edge. The doe seemed to be singed from a fire but otherwise seemed well. Joselyn’s weeping faded as she watched the two of them drink. When the fawn looked in her direction, she slowly lifted her hand to it, clucking softly. The doe seemed startled but didn’t bolt; the fawn was genuinely curious. Slowly, the little creature came up to her and sniffed her fingers. She was able to tickle its nose.
Enchanted, she forgot her tears for the moment as the little fawn nibbled on her fingers. She giggled at the baby with no teeth trying to nibble on her. The mother seemed more interested in eating the fat summer grass around the river while the fawn drew closer to Joselyn. It was enough of a distraction to cause her to forget her appalling grief. For the moment, she was thrilled with the fawn. It allowed her to scratch its neck as it came closer, interested in what she might have to eat. The little animal sniffed her surcoat and bit at the material, tugging at it and trying to eat it. Joselyn gently pulled the fabric out of the little mouth and tried to interest it in some soft, moist grass. It was a sweet, peaceful moment, one she desperately needed.
But it was not meant to last. Suddenly, the doe hit the water with a resounding splash. Startled, Joselyn looked up to see an arrow sticking out of its neck. With a scream, she grabbed the fawn and dove for the ground, terrified that more arrows would
Tate snorted. “Good Lord, man, that’s the least of your generosity,” he fell in behind Stephen as they moved up the narrow stairs. “She should know the character of the man she has married.”
They reached the landing. “She will,” Stephen said, knocking softly on the chamber door. After several long seconds and no answer, he knocked again. Still no answer, he opened the door.
The room was empty.
The day was sultry and sticky. The moisture rising up from the river was as thick as a fog, cloaking everything around it. In spite of Stephen’s previous order to stay to her chamber, Joselyn had found her way from the castle and down to the river, thinking of the family she had lost. She felt so very alone. She needed time to clear her head, far from castles and knights and visions of blood.
Reaching the damp, sticky grass that grew in tall clumps around the river’s edge, she found a sandy bar near the water and plopped down on it, her mind a jumble of grief and fear. Clad in the lovely cranberry surcoat, she gathered her legs up against her chest, lowered her face onto her knees, and wept.
So much of her life had been out of her control. The day she went to Carlisle with her father was the worst day of her life; it had changed everything. Her father had been ashamed of what had happened but her mother, a sweet simpleton, had coddled and supported her. Even when they realized the soldier’s seed had taken root, her mother continued to protect her fiercely. It was her father who had insisted on keeping her hidden as her stomach grew large and round, hidden from family and friends alike. Her father had told everyone that she was visiting relatives in Aberdeen when she was really locked up in her bower of Allanton Castle.
The shame that had been instilled in her during that time still clung to this day. Everyone but her mother was ashamed of her. Now the only person who had never harshly judged her was gone and she wept painfully for the woman whose mind left her years ago. Joselyn wept for that sweet woman of memories gone by, of brothers she had once loved, and for a life that she would never know again. All of the tragic events from the past few months had overwhelmed her and she felt like she was living another life, one she did not recognize or like. It was like hell.
Something shuffled off to her right and she looked up to see a doe and fawn, a few feet away, drinking from the river’s edge. The doe seemed to be singed from a fire but otherwise seemed well. Joselyn’s weeping faded as she watched the two of them drink. When the fawn looked in her direction, she slowly lifted her hand to it, clucking softly. The doe seemed startled but didn’t bolt; the fawn was genuinely curious. Slowly, the little creature came up to her and sniffed her fingers. She was able to tickle its nose.
Enchanted, she forgot her tears for the moment as the little fawn nibbled on her fingers. She giggled at the baby with no teeth trying to nibble on her. The mother seemed more interested in eating the fat summer grass around the river while the fawn drew closer to Joselyn. It was enough of a distraction to cause her to forget her appalling grief. For the moment, she was thrilled with the fawn. It allowed her to scratch its neck as it came closer, interested in what she might have to eat. The little animal sniffed her surcoat and bit at the material, tugging at it and trying to eat it. Joselyn gently pulled the fabric out of the little mouth and tried to interest it in some soft, moist grass. It was a sweet, peaceful moment, one she desperately needed.
But it was not meant to last. Suddenly, the doe hit the water with a resounding splash. Startled, Joselyn looked up to see an arrow sticking out of its neck. With a scream, she grabbed the fawn and dove for the ground, terrified that more arrows would
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