In Service Of The King (Book 2) (17 page)

“I HAVE never been so embarrassed in my life!” Mrs. Hays hissed to her husband. They stood in the corner of the ballroom furthest from the Count and Countess Beckenridge. “Who does that countess think she is, referring to me as some cottar’s daughter? Where is Elizabeth?! I wish to leave, immediately!”

The General downed the wine in his glass in one gulp.

“Perhaps you would not be so embarrassed, madam, if you would keep your mouth shut...” he said, tersely. His wife shot him an angry glare.

“Do not blame me, husband,” she snapped. “It is that blacksmith’s fault! Because of him we are shamed, poor and fallen lower than ever! Oh, that he had never been born!”

The general grunted at this, allowing a servant to re-fill his wineglass.

“Mrs. Hays... on that we are in agreement,” Octavian Hays said, at last. “Though he appears vindicated of all wrongs, the blacksmith seems to be a thorn in our side.” The words poured from him in a dreadfully bitter tone, even to the ears of his wife. Sensing she’d won a pivotal battle Mrs. Hays patted his arm, feeling a little better.

A man cleared his throat behind the pair and they turned to face the owner. Harold stood behind them, accompanied by a richly-dressed man of portly stature, with graying, well groomed hair.

“General,” Harold said, nodding his head. “May I introduce to you Aidan Simms, esquire... solicitor of my master. He has a matter of some import to discuss with you.” General Hays nodded at the man and took a drink of wine. Mrs. Hays was immensely curious but held her peace.

“Perhaps, General, you and your lovely wife will accompany me to the library, where we may speak privately,” the solicitor suggested, grandly. Nodding, the General and his wife followed him from the ballroom, with Harold walking after them.

The castle steward let his former employers into the library and then withdrew from the room, closing the door behind him.

“I assure you...” the solicitor began, standing behind a long, burnished table. “There is no cause to be alarmed. Please sit down,” the man indicated two cushioned chairs for them to sit in. The general and his wife did so, wondering what this man was going to tell them. On the table stood a small, ornate wooden chest carved with splendid designs.

“I will speak to you frankly. My employer, the Lord of the Stone Mountain is unmarried. Not being an old man, he wishes to marry but has found no young woman equal to his taste. That is, until he happened to see your daughter, Elizabeth walking upon the shore by your cottage.” Mrs. Hays clutched her husband’s hand under the table. The solicitor went on. “He was prepared to propose to your daughter but heard that she was recently engaged. This night, however, you appeared to have denied this fact. Am I correct?”

General Hays’ eyes drifted down to the chest on the table. It looked capable of holding many, many coins. Even if they were silver, it would be enough to live very well the rest of their lives. He felt his wife squeeze his hand, very hard. The general met the solicitor’s glance.

“You are correct,” he stated. “To my knowledge my daughter is unattached.” Beside him, Mrs. Hays exhaled in relief. The solicitor smiled, a little.

“Then my Lord has given me leave to offer you this as a bride-price,” he said; with both hands, the man opened the top of the chest. Inside lay hundreds of glimmering gold coins; the sight of them dazzled both the general and his wife. “Five-hundred gold coins,” the solicitor said, reverently. “It is a princely sum... I have a contract here to sign, should you agree to this bargain.”

“I will sign it,” General Hays said, with haste.

The solicitor nodded at this; his expression remained impassive.

“As it would be beneath you to be the Lord’s steward as well as his father in law, my lord offers his own servants to aid you in moving to an estate of your choice and will pay your expenses thusly,” the solicitor finished, fetching a piece of embellished parchment from a leather case at his side. “If you find this acceptable, General, please make your mark here.” The General did so, signing his name in a hasty scrawl.

“Excellent,” the solicitor said, smiling. He took the parchment and sprinkled powder on the signature and sealed the document with his own stamp in wax. “As is customary, pray give the Lord your signet ring to hold as collateral to this contract until the wedding. He will return it after the wedding ceremony.”

Standing, the General took off his gold signet ring and dropped it into the solicitor’s outstretched hand.

“My lord thanks you for your great service,” Simms said, smiling. “You are free to seek out a new estate. Take care to send me word of your new location; I will see you get an invitation to the wedding.”

“Good sir...” Mrs. Hays said, feeling a little giddy at this turn of fortune. “Pray tell me when the Lord wishes to marry our daughter.” Solicitor Simms blinked at her.

“In the early summer,” he said. “I will have the servants take this chest to your carriage for you. I wish you both a good evening.”

Elizabeth was found by her parents half an hour later; their changed demeanor surprised her greatly. Her mother looked positively elated,while her father stoodthoughtful, and silent. They expressed a desire to leave the ballatonce,onyl pzzling their daughter further.

On the ride homeward, Mrs. Hays turned to her daughter.

“My dear girl,” she said, smiling. “Your nineteenth birthday is soon, is it not?” Elizabeth nodded, slowly.

“It is Tuesday next, madam,” she replied. Leaning forward, her mother patted her hand.

“I have been rather hard on you as of late,” Mrs. Hays said, smiling again. “Your father and I wish to send you to your cousin Amelia, as an early birthday present. Would you like that, my dear?”

Elizabeth smiled, despite of her mother’s odd behavior; Amelia was her favorite relation, a young mother near her age, with a sweet country home and large flower garden. Visiting her would be a welcome respite.

“That I would!” she said, happily; the thought of missing Joseph’s letters however tempered her excitement. “How long would I be gone? Amelia’s home is nearly two day’s journey from here.”

“Stay three days with her then come back to us,” Mrs. Hays said. “Or, longer, if you wish. I am certain your cousin would not mind. I’ll have Annie wake you early tomorrow to start your journey. Pack your things tonight to take with you.” Nodding, Elizabeth eagerly looked forward to the morning. With Joseph gone away for many weeks, she did not want to remain here, but for his letters.

“Thank you, father...” she said, quietly. “What a wonderful gift.” Though his daughter smiled at him, Octavian Hays did not look at her. Indeed he could not; he knew the plans he and his wife had made would soon wipe away all of the young girl’s happiness.

THE HOLIDAY flew by swiftly. Upon arriving at her cousin’shome Elizabeth was overjoyed to see her and be able to converse freely again.She spent the warm afternoons playing with her tiny niece and nephew in the flowering garden. Expecting her third child soon, Amelia welcomed her cousin’s help with watching the little ones. Three days seemed far too short to stay; Amelia and her husband urged Elizabeth to stay longer, but the young woman was eager to return home. Anticipation laced the carriage air the whole length of the journey back to Stone Mountain Estate; she hoped to see a letter from Joseph upon her return.

The cottage yard looked strange as the hired carriage pulled up; it seemed abnormally vacant of activity. The door to the sables swung freely in the Bay breezes. Getting out of the carriage, Elizabeth bade the driver to wait. Hastening up the steps of the cottage she opened the front door. An empty hall met her eyes; all the familiar things were gone from the walls. Bewildered, Elizabeth peered into her father’s study. It, too, was bare and swept.

Hearing steps from somewhere in the house, Elizabeth moved towards the sound. Annie, the maid, appeared in the drawing room doorway.

“Miss... you’ve returned,” Annie said, looking past her young mistress towards the front door. “Is the carriage yet here?” Elizabeth nodded, dumbly.

“Where are my parents?” she asked. Annie glanced at the young woman and managed a half-smile.

“They have gone to purchase a new estate, miss,” the maid said, simply. “They said Forester Reeves and his wife are to look after you until the wedding. They told me to wait here until you came back and then take the carriage to meet them in the Easterly Province, by the city of Munitio.”

“They’ve gone?” Elizabeth repeated, weakly, looking at the wall. Annie’s face softened, a little.

“Mrs. Hays left you a letter, miss,” she said. “It is on that table, by the wall. I must prepare to go, if you do not mind, miss.” Elizabeth turned towards the living room at once.

“Go,” she said, quietly. “Thank you, Annie.”

In the main room of the house, a small wooden table was left; on it reposed a neat, square letter. Unfolding the parchment, Elizabeth recognized the even handwriting of her mother; she read as if in a daze.

“Dear Elizabeth,” it began, “Pray do not be unsettled upon seeing all our things removed from that hovel. Know we are well and by now we have purchased a lovely estate just outside the city of Munitio. Your father and I have accepted the proposal, from the Lord of the Stone Mountain, for your hand in marriage. You are to be married in the summer; until then you must stay with the good Forester Reeves and his wife; I have assured them you will give them no cause for dismay. The Lord has paid us handsomely for your hand, enough to keep us comfortable for the rest of our lives. As much as you may be disappointed, know that a marriage to a peasant would have been beneath our family and brought us to ruin. As Lady of the Stone Mountain, mistress of that rich estate, you will be very well taken care of. Accept this and you will have a happy, long marriage, as your father and I...”

Elizabeth could not read the rest. Sitting down on the floor, the young woman looked down at her hand. The slender, gold band Joseph gave her glimmered in the dim light. Covering her face Elizabeth wept. Tears slipped down between her fingers, falling upon the creased parchment in her lap.

TEN

Seven days after the ball, Joseph, Hezekiah and Dunner rode over the last hill of their southerly journey. Before them lay the great, southern city of Angelo. Nearly sundown, the dying rays of the sun colored the hills in orange light as the lamps slowly were lit in the sprawling city of bustling people and ornate buildings.

“Quite a sight... I’ll give you that,” Dunner said, lighting his pipe. Hezekiah grinned at the aging sailor.

“It appears so lovely from a distance,” the taller man said. “Yet, in the sordid back alleys it harbors thieves and murderers, like every city does.”

Just outside the city--on the side of the hill--stood a large, stone monastery; it was the largest such building Joseph had ever seen. Resembling a fortress more than a house for monks, it boasted a garden and several smaller buildings around the main within a high, stone wall. A tall, portly man in monks garb came out to greet them in the yard as they rode in; the man’s cheerful face below his balding head spoke of kindness, the thinning, white hair of age and wisdom.

“Greetings brothers!” the man said, smiling up at the visitors on their horses. “Welcome to Angelo. My men here will see to your horses.”

“Bishop Rubar Kohen,” Hezekiah said, with a formal gestulation. The man snorted a little.

“Titles are useless out of court, my friend,” Rubar returned. He looked up at Dunner with a genial smile. “Brother Dunner... you’ve come to visit us again.”

“I have, brother,” the old sailor said, nodding. “I’m wanting to get off this infernal beast and onto land.” With a grunt he swung down from his mount and stretched his back.

“A seven-day ride is hard even on a young man,” Rubar said, shaking his head a little. “My brothers will see to you steeds.” At this, he glanced up curiously at the unknown rider accompanying the Shamar.

“May I present Lord Asher of Stone Mountain,” Hezekiah introduced, with a grand flourish of his hand. Joseph nodded his head at the Bishop, dismounting Belator.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” the young man said, “but I will see to my own horse.”

The bishop seemed surprised at the request, but nodded his head anyway. Dunner puffed his pipe a moment, glancing at Joseph.

“You must excuse Lord Asher, brother,” the aging sailor quipped. “The man’s burdened by matters of the heart. Loves a pretty girl but her parents hate the sight of him. He’s been downright dull this whole trip.” Joseph shot Dunner a narrow look.

“It was not an insult to the Bishop...” he said, calmly. “Strangers find Belator a bit... unmanageable.”

“I see,” Rubar said, smiling.

In the stables Joseph found more that time than usual was needed to bed down his horse. Belator stamped and snorted moodily. Combing the great black sides of his faithful horse Joseph finally calmed the animal down and pitched fresh hay into the stall. In the dining hall, the young lord ate his meal in silence and retired early. Dunner called after him as he left the hall.

“Aye, some sleep will do you good! Your mood’s as black as your horse!” Joseph mumbled under his breath as he made his way to an empty guest chamber.

“Ah, young love,” Hezekiah said. “The first stages of dark depression...”

Rubar shook his head, sadly.

“My friend, such a cynical view you have,” the balding priest remanded lightly. “Marriage is wonderful; it is the children which cause one to lose sleep.”

“Well, I’ve had neither!” Dunner said, scowling. “I think both should be avoided like the plague.”

“Yes, we are all in utter shock that you are yet without a wife,” Hezekiah remarked. Dunner gave his friend a narrow glare.

“I’ve been engaged before, Marshal Walters,” he retorted, puffing his pipe. “I just had not the nerve to walk the plank.”

“The taciturn old salt didn’t have the nerve?” Hezekiah mused, aloud. “How odd; I should think the poor young lady would have been the one to change her...”

“Peace... peace good men,” Rubar interrupted, looking worried; Dunner’s expression appeared almost wrathful. “No blood should be spilled in my abbey. A long journey tests even the most fast of friendships.” The men fell into a sullen silence for a moment.