“If you leave me you can never come back. Do you understand, Baen? If you go I do not ever want to see you again,” Elizabeth said in a hard voice.
His hand dropped away from her face. He stepped back wordlessly and, turning, took the bridle rein of his horse. His dog crept from the shadows to join him.
“Never!” she cried as he walked through the stable doors. “Ever!” she shouted as he mounted the animal. “I hate you, Baen MacColl!” she shrieked as he began to move off.
He stopped and, turning, looked at her, his face a mask of anguish. “Yet I love you, Elizabeth Meredith,” he said to her. And then, kicking his mount, he cantered from the stable yard and towards the road to the north, Friar loping along by his side.
She watched him go, the tears she had attempted to stem pouring down her face. Elizabeth began to shake, and then she crumpled to the ground on her knees, sobbing. A lone stable boy, seeing her, ran to her side.
“Mistress, be you all right?” he asked her, frightened. He had never seen the lady cry. And she was crying so bitterly. He was young, but he recognized the sound of misery when he heard it.
Still in shock at what had happened, but aware of her position, Elizabeth put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and pulled herself to her feet. “I’m all right,” she said in a shaking voice. “Saddle my horse, lad, for I have a long day ahead of me.”
Trained to obey, the boy hurried to do his mistress’s bidding, and then he watched her as she rode off towards the high meadows. All the day long Elizabeth Meredith did what she had been trained to do. She inspected each shelter in each meadow to make certain that it was stocked, or see if it needed to be stocked with winter supplies. She looked over her flocks and spoke with her shepherds, giving them instructions to move nearer to the manor house and barns in the next few days. “I sense a bad winter ahead,” she said, and the shepherds took her at her word. After all, she was the lady of Friarsgate, and who would know better than she?
When she finally reached home, it was almost dark. Above her the sky was darkening to a strong deep blue. The sunset stained the western horizon with its vibrant shades of red and orange. A young crescent moon hung above it all. She dismounted, tossing her reins to the same lad who had saddled the animal for her earlier in the day. Then she hurried into her house. All was silent but for the crackling fire.
“Albert!” she called, and the serving man hurried forward.
“Yes, lady?” he inquired politely.
“You have served me well,” Elizabeth told him. “I am appointing you steward of the hall. You and Jane will see to my comfort from now on. I have much else to do and cannot be bothered. Is supper ready yet?”
“Yes, lady,” Albert replied, struggling to maintain his composure at this elevation in his rank. “Will Master Baen be joining you shortly?”
“The Scot left this morning to return north,” Elizabeth said in a cold voice. “I am hungry. Bring me food at once!”
“Yes, lady,” Albert said in a calm voice. He had known Elizabeth Meredith all her life, and he easily recognized her anger. “I shall serve you myself immediately. You have but to be seated at the board.” Why had the Scot gone so precipitously? He dashed off to fetch his mistress’s meal, and to relay his new knowledge. In the kitchens as he piled a tray high with a vegetable potage, some slices of ham, bread, butter, cheese, and a dish of newly stewed pears, he repeated what he knew.
“Gawd almighty!” Nancy swore softly. “They was lovers! Her heart will be broken. How could the villain leave her?” She stood up from the table, where she had just finished her meal. “I’d best go and prepare a nice bath for her. She’ll be in want of soothing. Take that tray, Albert, and I’ll bring a fresh carafe of wine.”
The two servants hurried upstairs to the hall, where Elizabeth sat in solitary splendor awaiting her supper. They placed the dishes and plates before her, and, taking the wine from Nancy, Albert poured their mistress a full goblet while his female counterpart scuttled off to prepare the bath.
“Leave me!” Elizabeth said to Albert. “I’ll call if I want anything.” She looked at the dishes brought. She had not eaten since early morning, yet she seemed to have little appetite. She speared a piece of ham and laid it on her plate. She sliced herself a wedge of cheese and pulled a chunk of bread from the cottage loaf. The ham seemed too salty. The cheese was dry, and the bread, even generously buttered, stuck in her throat. Only the wine tasted good. Ignoring the pears, which usually were favorites with her, Elizabeth drank the entire carafe down. Briefly she felt content. So Baen MacColl was gone.Well, good riddance!She didn’t need him. Let him run home to his father, the sainted master of Grayhaven, like the child he was. He was a fool, and she had no tolerance for fools. He had walked away from her, from Friarsgate, from a life of his own. And for what? An old father who had two other sons perfectly capable of caring for him.Fool!
She wanted more wine, and she saw another carafe in the middle of the board, but when she reached for it, it wasn’t there at all, and the two carafes become an empty one. Elizabeth giggled, tipsily lurching to her feet. There would be wine on the sideboard in her chamber. She stumbled, but her legs didn’t seem to want to go in the right direction. She practically fell into a chair by the fire. It was so quiet. Why was it so damned quiet? Oh. Yes. She was alone. Lord Cambridge was gone home, and Will with him. And Baen MacColl had left her. Elizabeth began to weep again, and it was there that Nancy found her.
The young serving woman put a strong arm about her mistress, prodding her up out of her chair. “Come along, Mistress Elizabeth, ’tis past time you found your bed,” she said. “I have a nice bath for you, but I think not tonight. ’Tis straight to sleep for you, I’m thinking. Come along now.” Gently she pushed and pulled Elizabeth from the hall and up the stairs to her chamber. Safely inside the room, she began to loosen the garments her mistress was wearing and pull off her boots.
“He’s left me, Nancy,” Elizabeth said mournfully.
“So you said, mistress,” Nancy said.
“We were lovers.” Elizabeth giggled.
“I know,” Nancy responded.
“You do?” Elizabeth seemed surprised. “How do you know?”
“You ain’t slept in your bed for weeks, mistress. You’ve been sleeping in his. ’Twould follow that two healthy young people sharing a bed were lovers,” Nancy said dryly.
“Why did he leave me, Nancy?” Elizabeth was swinging back to maudlin now.
“You’d know that better than me, mistress,” Nancy said. She gently pushed Elizabeth into her bed, tucking her feet beneath the coverlet and pulling it up.
“He’s a fool,” Elizabeth muttered.
“Yes, mistress.” Nancy blew out the taper stick. “Good night,” she said.
