Heartsong, page 23
Outside, this cottage appeared much like the one she had just abandoned. Inside it was bigger and a pot of something that smelled delicious hung from a hook beside the fireplace.
“Sing,” Tom handed her the harp.
The old woman laid a hand on his arm. “Later, Tom. I know you want for your friend to sing but I also want to hear what is going on at the castle. You go and bring back any words spoken.”
Rhianna looked from one to the other. “I don’t think Margot will be pleased that you offered me shelter.”
Pernith snorted. “I don’t give a care what pleases the Mistress of Fiston. She has no say over me. None at all. Now, tell me about you. The rumors are many. Some say you were Garrett deShay’s leman. Is he the father of your babe?”
~ * ~
At Knockin, Arthur drummed his fingers on the table as he leaned toward Garrett. “We have covered the north, nearly to Scotland. Not a word of her,” he said, his frustration plain.
“Aye, ‘tis what we found as we traveled west. Margot’s people all say the same. She left months ago with two men, not too long after she came to Fiston.” Lydon glanced at Garrett, then at Edina.
“And east?” Edina asked, her infant son wrapped in her arm.
Joseph shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Where is she?” Garrett thundered. Arvel laid a hand on his arm and murmured to him.
“I don’t care. I want to know why she left Knockin. Why she refused to come to me?”
Garrett stared at the contingent of men seated around the table at his dias. He had nearly died. Had it not been for Rhianna’s brother, he would have slipped from this Earth. Her brother tended to him, but why not Rhianna? He thought she cared for him yet she refused to come when he needed her most.
In the months since the battle, he had struggled to survive, had met all of Rhianna’s brothers, had even endured a lengthy grilling from each one of them, even Arthur. At one point, he was certain Angor, Rhianna’s oldest brother, intended to challenge him to a fight to the death. Arvel, the healer, had put a stop to it, telling his brother, in Garrett’s condition, it would amount to little more than murder.
Garrett had been honest with them. He had wanted Rhianna. He had bedded her, and she’d become important to him. If she had not refused to come to him when he had been so ill, he would gladly have wed her.
He still didn’t have the slightest idea why she had rejected him. Above all else, if she still lived, he wanted her happiness, after he found out why she had refused to tend him. If she didn’t want him, then so be it.
Unfortunately, she still haunted him. Her face floated in front of him at the oddest times and she slept beside him every night in his dreams. He wouldn’t admit to it, especially to her brothers, but he ached for her still.
“What are the plans now?” Garrett asked.
“I suggest we try west again. Someone must have seen her,” Lydon said.
“What about the two men who accompanied her when she left Fiston? What of them?” Arthur asked.
“I talked to the people of Fiston,” Lydon answered. “The few who saw anything, or remembered, couldn’t place either man. One of Margot’s serfs insisted he saw two men leading a mule into the forest, but we had to discount his words. He was too old and his babbling made little sense.” He winced. “The few who knew about her think she is dead.”
Garrett’s dark mood turned blacker at Lydon words.
Arthur sighed.
Garrett gritted his teeth. He knew just how the youngest of Alwyn’s sons felt. He groaned, remembering how all of this had begun. Edward had wanted a hostage. Edward held Wales, there were a few battles with the Welsh, but now the Scotsmen to the north caused the monarch problems. And he, Garrett deShay, ate his meals and spent his days with five Welshmen, all nobles by birth.
He shook his head, knowing he no longer harbored the hatred he once held. Nay, he owed them his life. Not that his life would be worth much without Rhianna in it, but that fault was his not theirs.
~ * ~
“My Lady, she lives.”
“Willa, are you certain?”
“Aye, and you would not believe her condition. She grows heavy with child.” Willa was panting with excitement.
“With child? You mean Garrett’s baggage is having a child?”
“Any day now, I would say.”
Margot smiled at Willa. For the last month, Margot had sent her out into the countryside to watch the servants, especially the women. The news she brought back each night had not pleased Margot. Not until now. For some reason, none at Fiston were about to give birth. She’d begun to experience real fear. Her time was nearly up. Richard would be expecting word of her deliverance any day now and she had not found a babe to claim as her own.
“You think this babe will arrive any day now?”
“Aye, from the look of her.”
“Where did you find her? I know you would never venture into the forest by yourself.” An unpleasant thought occurred. “You are not taking someone else with you as you carry out my orders?”
“Oh, nay, my Lady. I go by myself. And you are right. I would not go into the forest alone, but she is not in the forest.”
“So, tell me, who gave her shelter?”
Willa smiled. “Pernith.”
“I might have known. Why Richard let that woman come here to Fiston is past my understanding. That I have no say over her or the child she cares for while they farm this land has always been intolerable.”
Margot glanced at Willa. Her maid had heard her rant about Pernith before, but none knew why Richard had given land to the maid from Knockin, nor why the old woman had to answer to no one, not even to him.
Margot found her lips curving into a smile, thinking about Willa’s news. She lifted her hand and counted on her fingers.
Good Heavens!
“You are certain she is about to deliver?”
Willa nearly bounced beside her. “Aye. You should see her—”
Margot counted again. It had to be. The time was right. Garrett’s piece of baggage was about to have his child. And Richard could have no say over Garrett’s whore or the child she carried even though she had sought shelter at the home of Pernith. The old woman could not protect her. Indeed, when the time came, no one would believe that Margot had taken the child.
She needed that child and there was some justice that it would be a child of Garrett’s that ruled Richard’s land. At least the child would carry some of her blood.
She started to laugh. Aye. She loved it. Garrett’s child would become his niece or his nephew. And he would never know. Oh, that the God above would give the slut a girl. Somehow that would make it better.
“Now, here is what you will do,” Margot instructed Willa.
~ * ~
“Push,” Pernith growled.
“It is too early,” Rhianna panted.
“But the babe has decided to come today. Now, get on with it, girl.”
“I am so tired.”
Pernith stroked her brow with cold water. “I know. Birthing is hard work. But, you can do it. Now, push. That’s a girl. Again.”
Rhianna struggled to expel her child. A babe Pernith said was not due yet for another several weeks. But, after her work in the small garden beside the cottage, Rhianna had complained of back pain. Pernith had warned her not to overdue, but she had.
She bit her bottom lip. This was her fault. She wanted this babe with everything that was in her. This was Garrett’s child, a part of the man she loved that no one could take from her. For an instant, after the urge to push, she thought about England and how she’d felt so long ago. Now, no matter what happened to her, her heart would be forever part of England, just as her child was part of the country. The drawing pain began again and all thoughts dissolved in her distress.
“Now, Rhianna, now.” Pernith’s voice came through a haze of agony.
She had been laboring now since the early hours of the night. Morn had come and gone and still the babe had not come. For how much longer would it continue?
“Garrett,” she screamed through the sudden torment. He was not there to answer her.
“A girl child,” Pernith cried as Rhianna collapsed against the straw mattress.
A tiny wail distracted Rhianna.
“A girl?”
“Aye.” Pernith’s voice was not as enthusiastic as it had been.
“Is she all right? Is something wrong?”
“She is tiny,” Pernith said. “That is all. We will pray that she makes it.”
“Oh, nay. The saints cannot do this to me. The child must live. Pernith, she must.”
“Aye, she lives. We will see that she continues to thrive.”
~ * ~
“Thank the saints,” Margot announced. “Finally, I can come out of hiding. I am beginning to hate this chamber.”
“But, my Lady,” Willa cried. “The babe may not live. I heard Pernith say it was too early. What will you do then?”
“The child must live. Do you hear me?” Margot frowned and began to pace the chamber. “We have to see the babe has every chance. We can’t send for the midwife. No one is to know it is not my child. Mayhap the babe will only live for a few years. But, it must live.”
Striding back and forth, she tried to think of a solution. She hated the idea but she would have to supply decent food to Pernith. There was nothing else she could do to promote the life of the child. At the moment, the mother had to feed the child so good food must be provided. But to do so how without raising suspicions?
At the moment, Pernith’s personal isolation from Fiston might be to Margot’s advantage. Lucky for her, most of the folk at Fiston considered the old woman a troublemaker, an outsider. There was Tom, but everyone ignored the child. He’d be no problem. Besides, Margot doubted any even knew of the visitor in Pernith’s house, or the babe who had just arrived.
She wondered if the mother could even feed the child. Mayhap she should plan to seize the child now. She had already arranged for a wet nurse. A real shame there were not more babes being born at Fiston this summer.
“What should I do,” Willa broke into her thoughts.
“We will wait and see. If the child dies we must think of something else, you’ll have to find another.”
“And if the child lives?”
“Our problems are over. You will not lose your home.” Margot knew her smile made Willa shudder.
“I’ll have to wait a day or two before I let Richard know I have delivered. Mayhap a little longer, until we know if the child will survive. I want you back at the cottage later today. Oh, and we must arrange for food to be distributed to all the cottages.” She paused and glanced toward Fiston’s chapel.
Willa had opened her mouth to offer a question, but Margot silenced her. “What saint’s feast day is coming?”
Margot began to pace, then she paused. “It matter’s not. I want food parceled out to each cottage in honor of the saint’s feast day.”
“Which saint, my Lady?”
“I don’t know. Make one up. Just see the servants take food to all the cottages. It will cost me, but I know no other way. You, yourself can deliver the food to Pernith’s cottage. And, make certain she receives twice as much as the others. I want that babe to live.”
~ * ~
Over the next two weeks, the child flourished. Rhianna and Pernith exclaimed over the improvements.
“That extra food made a difference,” Pernith, her concerned face wrinkled in a frown. “If Tom had not mentioned the giving of food baskets to each cottage, I’d worry.”
“But Tom did say each cottage got the same in honor of Fiston’s special saint.”
“Aye, but ‘tis the first time in all the time I’ve lived on this land.” Pernith gazed toward the castle wall. “There must be another reason for the gift.”
“Mayhap it’s to honor the new Prince of Wales,” Rhianna suggested.
Pernith gave a soft urmph. “Prince of Wales.” She spat into the fire. “What has my country come to?”
Rhianna smiled and cuddled the child in her arms. Gwendolyn, a Welsh name Pernith had selected when they were certain the child would live, yawned and stretched.
“She is such a beautiful babe.”
“In the eyes of the mother,” Pernith muttered.
“She is beautiful,” Rhianna insisted.
“She’s a babe. Someday mayhap she will be beautiful. Now, let us talk about your return to Wales.”
~ * ~
Early in the morn, Rhianna stood outside the cottage staring at the cottages around Fiston. She watched people moving from one cottage to another. Something was going on, but since Tom had yet to return from the castle, she could only guess.
Tom had told Pernith that Margot was about to have a babe. Pernith had hissed her disapproval, but Rhianna had confirmed that Margot claimed to have been with child.
“ ‘Tis not possible,” Pernith insisted, but Rhianna only shook her head. This time Pernith was wrong. After all, hadn’t Garrett sent her to Fiston to help when knowledge of Margot’s condition and the trouble she had was made known to Garrett. At first she herself had doubted, but she could have been mistaken.
Rhianna stepped back into the cottage to check on the sleeping babe, her heart swelling with a mother’s love. She could only wish Margot the joy of a child, even though she did not like the woman. Nor would she ever understand why Margot had sent her to the forest instead of allowing her to travel to Knockin or home to Wales.
However, it mattered no longer. She had Garrett’s child, and soon she would follow Pernith’s advice. Soon, the four of them, Pernith, Tom, the babe and Rhianna would travel to Wales where she would insist her brothers offer Pernith and Tom a home.
According to gossip faithfully repeated by Tom a certain peace had come to Wales. That information was the only reason Pernith was willing to travel to Rhianna’s home.
She chuckled at the comments the old woman had made about Edward’s care of Wales. Still, it would be wonderful if peace reigned.
“I got news,” Tom yelled, rushing into the cottage.
“Pernith has gone into the forest to gather herbs. She should be returning soon. Then you can tell us both.”
“You don’t want to know now?” He sounded so disappointed.
Rhianna smiled at him. The child was blessed with an enthusiasm for life that she found uplifting. And if not for his love of music and the food he supplied, Rhianna wasn’t certain she would have survived.
“Nay, Tom. We await Pernith’s return. Then you can tell us both. Would you like to hold the babe while we wait?”
Tom nodded, and Rhianna laughed at his eagerness. He was good with Gwendolyn. She placed the babe in his arms, then she slipped from the cottage. While she watched, trails of dust from a number of horses swirled over the roads from Fiston.
“Hurry back to us, Pernith” she whispered, turning toward the forest, her curiosity eating at her.
She had just taken the babe from Tom’s arms when Pernith walked into the cottage.
“I have news,” Tom jumped from his chair before the fire.
“All right, Boy, spit it out,” Pernith said as she laid her basket on the hearth.
“The babe has come. A little girl, like Gwendolyn.”
“Margot had a babe?”
“Aye.”
“Nay, ‘tis not possible. ‘Tis a lie.”
Tom looked crushed.
She patted his arm. “Tom, I don’t mean you lie. ‘Tis Margot who is deceiving all.”
Rhianna looked at her. Pernith’s words puzzled her. Twice now, Pernith had said Margot could not have a child.
“Pernith, why do you say she deceives? I told you I came here because she had conceived. Now, you say nay.”
“Child, as my word is my bond, I tell you Margot cannot bear a child.” She turned back to Tom. “Tell us the rest.”
“She sent word to Knockin and to Richard this morn.
Everyone at the castle says Richard will come home now. Because of the babe.” Tom paused as if trying to figure something out. “Who is at Knockin?”
Rhianna shivered. She knew, but she preferred not to say, nor was she going to explain. Now was probably a good time to leave for Wales. She did not want to be here at Fiston, even in this lowly cottage, when Colvin came to visit for he would have inherited Knockin.
“Pernith, I think we should leave soon for Wales. I know my brothers will welcome you into our home. It’s nothing like Fiston, but the keep is comfortable and you and Tom will be happy there. I know you will.”
“Aye, ‘tis for the best. We’ll begin our preparations now. We should be ready to go in a day or two. Best for the babe if we travel before the cold settles in. Tom.” She turned back to the boy. “How would you like to travel with Rhianna and the babe?”
His eyes glowed with pleasure and Rhianna knew the thought of going anywhere with the babe pleased him.
For the first time in months as Rhianna crawled into her cot that night beside the babe, her thoughts of something other than Garrett’s arms and his loving. Tonight, she thought about Wales, about Lily, and wondered how her little half sister had fared this last year. Not for the first time she wondered who had taken over Lily’s care. Had Arthur found his way home? And did her other brothers live?
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Arthur had a better sense of direction than she had. He would have made it back to the keep. And Edward held Wales, so her brothers would no longer be sought as the enemy. If they’d managed to return to the keep.
She cuddled Gwendolyn, in her swaddling clothes. At least she had Garrett’s child. Mayhap there would have been no babe if she had gone with Arthur.
A new day dawned. Living rather than just surviving had taken on new meaning for Rhianna. As they broke their fast, she and Pernith planned the day. The old woman’s concern was food for their trip.
“I can hunt,” Rhianna said.
“With what?”
“A bow and arrows. Or a knife. I’m really good.”
“No doubt,” Pernith said. “We will have to find a way to get a weapon of some kind.”
