Page 63 of Lord of Misrule

Chapter 16

It had been two days, and Tolin’s responsibilities with all the Christmastide festivities had been so demanding that he still hadn’t gone to town to find Kit. Finally, he’d had enough of this and decided he was going and no one would stop him.

He rode with his squire to town as the snow started falling.

“My lord, what will you do once you find her?” asked Jarvis.

“I am going to bring Kit back to the castle with me. Where she belongs.”

“What if she won’t come?” asked Jarvis.

Tolin hadn’t thought of that. After all, the girl didn’t have a home. Why wouldn’t she return to the warm castle where food was abundant?

“We’ll deal with that if it comes to it.” Tolin slowed his horse as they rode into town when he saw the burned-out shell of what was once the bakery. It was on the end of a row of businesses, and luckily the only one that seemed to have been destroyed by the fire.

“God’s eyes, that looks horrible,” said Jarvis, hopping off his horse.

“Yes. It is most unfortunate.” Tolin dismounted and handed the reins to Jarvis. Once inside the establishment, he looked around, almost gagging from the smell of smoke. Hot coals were still smoldering in parts. He heard a clanking from the back of the shop and headed over. His boots crunched the remains of the shop underfoot, remains of what was left of Kit’s life.

“Kit?” He spotted the back of a woman standing by the ovens. She wore dusty clothes and her head was covered with a scarf.

The woman spun around. “Tolin,” she gasped, dropping the bottles she’d been holding. They fell to the floor and shattered. She groaned. “Well, there goes what was left of my life. Not even old bottles will be able to be salvaged now.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking around, heading over for her. “I promise I’ll find the man responsible and see that he is brought to the gallows for what he did.”

“Nay, you won’t,” she said, turning and busying herself by sweeping the floor. “I already know who it is and you will not raise a finger to harm him.”

“Why not? What are you saying?” Tolin moved closer to her, not understanding at all what she meant. With the roof open and gone, snow fell, making a dusting on Kit’s shoulders.

“The whole thing was an accident,” she informed him. “Willis said he’ll help me in any way possible, but he and Vivian don’t have much money. I can’t expect him to give me money when he will need it to raise their baby.”

“Are you talking about your sister-by-marriage and her husband?”

“Yes,” she said, stilling the broom and looking over her shoulder at him. “They are to have a child, and I will do whatever I can to support them.”

“Listen to yourself. That is nonsense,” spat Tolin. “You have your own family to support. Kit, it is this man’s fault that you’ve lost everything. How can you even consider helping him?”

“He is my family too,” said Kit in a small voice. “I cannot abandon him or Vivian in their time of great need.”

“I cannot believe how selfless you are. You need help for your family more than anything and yet you are putting others before it. You don’t even have a place to live.”

“Willis said that we can stay with them until we are on our feet again.”

“All of you in one small shop?”

“I don’t have another choice,” she told him.

“Yes. Yes, you do, Kit. You can come back with me. To the castle.”

“To do what?” She raised her chin and glared at him. “Warm your bed like the rest of those tarts you like so much?”

He took a few steps closer but when she backed away from him, he stopped. “The only tarts I want are yours,” he said, meaning her baking. But when he saw the look on her face, he realized that it had not come out sounding the way he’d meant it to. “I mean your baking, Kit.”

“Oh. So you want me as your servant is what you are saying.”

“No. I want you at the castle as my...as my...guest.” Tolin stopped himself from saying wife, even though it was what he wanted to say. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know Kit well at all. Their lives were so very different. And Tolin wanted to give his father what the man longed for regarding his children. That is, by marrying a noble. Or so he thought. Right now, Tolin still wasn’t sure if he wanted to get married to anyone.

“Your guest?” she asked, sounding more than disappointed. “Tell me, how long would I be there as your guest, Tolin? Would I be expected to be in the kitchen, baking every day? And what about my family? Would we all be in servitude to you in exchange for this favor?”