Lady Trent (5 page)

“Tomorrow morning you will dine with Lord
Trent,” she announced with her usual humble, trained voice. “This
morning he is away tending to a matter outside the city.”

Rachel deliberated as she chewed a bite of
pastry. What would she do with herself? Being idle was not
something she was accustomed to. Perhaps she would revisit the
chapel and say her prayers before afternoon.

She watched Tilly, who’d gone about
straightening the room. Maybe she would have a clue. What exactly
would a guest of such a place do to occupy their time?

“What shall I do until he returns?” She found
herself asking.

“Tis a beautiful morning, milady,” Tilly
said, stopping what she’d been doing for a time. “Perhaps a stroll
in the gardens. They are beautiful this time of year. Lord Trent
should return around the start of noon. You’ll sit with him at his
table. He will be having guests—the duke of Tarot and the
duchess.”

“Duke?” she warily repeated, chewing slowly.
“Duchess?” She felt queasy just thinking about taking part in
engaging such a couple.

“Do not worry, milady,” Tilly soothed. “Tis
no trying matter. The duke and duchess are not difficult to
entertain. You shall see.”

She thought about this, even a bit later as
she did as suggested, taking a stroll about the gardens which were
absolutely gorgeous and serene…beautiful, just as Tilly had
insisted. Yes, she’d escaped the chamber after choosing something
to wear from a generous assortment arranged specifically for her;
everything from gowns and scarves, corsets, skirts and bustles,
robes and stockings; Far too many things for a mere two-day visit.
Tilly assisted with her bath and her attire, and insisted upon
brushing her hair which she praised in the process saying how “very
beautiful” it was. As the maidens the morning before she also
insisted it be kept down, and pampered it with dabs of fragrant
lotions. It fell down her back in natural wavy locks, and she had
to admit even to herself that it was quite stunning.

There was an assortment of sandals to choose
from, also. Now, these she was particularly grateful for today
seeing as to how she’d accidentally stubbed her toe on the
nightstand the evening before. No way would she have been able to
comfortably wear her little black boots.

Three guards were assigned to her and
travelled from a distance while she strolled along a walkway
admiring the gardens. There were statues and fountains and every
flower imaginable. It was an admirable, colorful scene which the
sparrows seemed to enjoy equally as well.

The walkway was paved with brick, in some
places stone, and others pebbles that had been flatly embedded into
the ground. It was a generous walk, but the scenery was never the
same. The trail led all the way from the left of the palace to the
right, and she could hear the faint sound of the ocean’s waves from
beyond the stone wall that encircled the grounds. She stopped here
and there, taking a flower by its stem, touching the blooms of
roses and petunias to her nose, inhaling their sweet, pleasant
scent.

Midway the passage she came across a
strawberry patch and could not resist plucking one of the ripened
pieces of fruit. While she savored its sweet flavor, a voice called
out to her. She would not have expected to be greeted there by Lord
Trent, himself.

She could not help but smile back at him as
he approached. Upon reaching her he extended his hands to take
hers. She considered again how very solid and handsome he was, even
at the age of forty-nine. She imagined he must have been a very
dashing young man.

“You certainly add to the beauty of this
scene,” he complimented.

“You flatter me.”

“I speak the truth,” he kindly corrected, and
acknowledged the strawberry patch for himself.

“You’ve stumbled upon me indulging
myself.”

“It is well if you do so. Such is the reason
for these. Up ahead you will find apple and peach trees and berry
bushes of all kinds. And some other kind of tree. It bears an
attractive fruit that has yet to be seen in any other place or even
named for that matter. But it is restricted.”

“Poisonous?” She guessed.

“I only know that a servant of my
grandfather’s many years ago decided to be the first to taste it.
He claimed it was the tastiest fruit he’d ever bitten into.
Unfortunately, he later died. The tree is left alone to simply be
admired. I do, however, suspect its fruit has been used to…Well,
there may be those who have taken it upon themselves to end life
prematurely.”

“Perhaps the tree should be destroyed.”

“Perhaps,” he simply agreed, redirecting his
attention to a nearby rosebush. He plucked one of the flowers and
handed it to her. Smiling she accepted it. A palm to her back, he
guided her onward. They walked along, several guards now following
from a distance behind them.

“I supposed you would not return until later.
Tilly said you had a matter to attend outside the city.”

“Tilly?”

“The maiden assigned to me.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Forgive me. I am not
well acquainted with the names of those who serve the palace. But,
yes, I attended the matter. It was quickly resolved. A mere spat
between two farmers. Brothers,” he added.

“I see.”

“I ordered breakfast be served in your room.
I thought you would prefer it opposed to dining alone at the table.
I trust my orders were followed.”

“They were,” she assured him.

“And how does it appeal to you? Being
served?”

“That is a peculiar question.”

“I do not think so,” he quietly commented.
“After all you are accustomed to serving others, not the other way
around.”

She mindlessly plucked at the rose’s leaves,
dropping fragments onto the ground as they went, and toyed with the
stem while thinking upon his statement. “True, my calling requires
that I serve others…not the other way around.”

“I have taken much thought to this calling of
yours. Until recently I had not actually considered the Sacred
Vows, that is to say the procedures of them and those who pledge to
honor them. I have now become better acquainted with the Orders.
People such as yourself claim to be required to serve but to never
be served. I cannot help but think—are there not times when we all
require the service of another whether in spirit or mind or body?
Are we not all in danger of requiring a helping hand at some point
or another?”

“I imagine you consider this proposition a
means of service not only to the people of Westerly but to me as
well? You should be aware, Lord Trent, that I am quite content to
be as I am. I have no desire whatsoever to be liberated…if that is
at all what you would consider to be a foremost benefit to the
proposition.”

“You should also be aware, milady, if not for
you I would not have offered this to the citizens of Westerly.”

“Without me your assistance would doubtfully
have been requested to begin with,” she pointed out.

He almost grinned at her profile. Placing his
hands together behind his back and his gaze to the ground ahead of
them, he thought heavily upon what she had said.

“This lack of self-regard…it is not a trait I
am accustomed to.”

“Then you have not spent a great deal of time
with the clerics.”

“Well, Sister Camille is a rightful and
distinguished member of the Sacred Sisterhood.”

“I would not doubt it, only it appears things
are done so much differently here.”

“I must admit, I find myself tempted to
instill in you some sense of regard that I feel you deserve. You do
not express any urge to be liberated and seem completely content to
dedicate your life to this calling you are so adamant about—this
impresses me.” He paused a moment before asking. “How does one
receive it, this sort of calling? Is it a voice or a thought, or a
simple desire that was placed into the heart to begin with?”

She thought for a moment, her mind taking her
back. “I was very young,” she recalled. “Eleven years of age. My
parents had died the Year of The Plague and I’d been left to care
for my siblings. Sister Agatha claimed I would one day take the
Sacred Vows, and a stranger who came into town, merely passing
thru. He clarified the same. Ultimately the calling came to me
while I was praying for my siblings and for the citizens of
Westerly. I had realized how very poor and excluded they were in
comparison to what I had learned about those of other places, and
also very much in need of spiritual guidance which to me had become
of foremost importance.”

“I suppose we are all in need of guidance one
way or another,” he said, and she said nothing. His expression had
become very serious. He kept quiet for a while, and then
out-of-the-blue stated, “You are very beautiful, Rachel, beautiful
in heart and naturally as well. Before, when I thought of you, I
could not envision you at all. With every attempt my mind became
blank. Now I have met you. I am all the more infatuated. It seems
unfair that any deity or purpose; anything at all should keep you
from becoming my wife.”

“You should also then consider the citizens
of Westerly, how unfair it would be for anything or anyone at all
to keep me from continuing with them.”

“Unfortunately, I am not a deity to make
demands, only requests.”

She stopped and turned to look at him. She
parted her lips to speak, but before she could he’d lifted a hand,
a grin touching his lips, and gently stroked her chin.

“You were going to scold me,” he figured,
dropping his hand, “for insinuating that if it was my ability, I
would certainly demand it.”

“I perceive that you are accustomed to having
things the way you want them…to having your orders followed no
matter the extent or the cost.”

“I cannot argue that, milady. Not at all. But
I understand how necessary you have become to the people of
Westerly. Your commitment to this calling seems essential to them.
You speak as if it is essential to you. Not because of any obvious
shortcomings.”

“What do you mean?”

“Many young ladies decide to take the vows
because of outward misfortune. Their appearance leaves them with
little or no prospect at finding a husband. Think of someone such
as Camille, for instance.”

“Sister Camille is a lovely woman,” Rachel
defended, “even despite being…well, advanced in age.”

“Oh, she was a lovely young woman, and still
is lovely in so many ways. She took the vows in secret, and later
claimed that she did so because the reasons were also secret. But
then there are those who have chosen the Vows, well, for apparent
reasons so to speak.”

“Unfortunately, in some instances, that has
been the case. Very few, one can only hope.”

“Quite certainly not yours,” he
commented.

“Lord Trent, your compliments are—“

“—the truth,” he interrupted, “yet they make
you uneasy. Perhaps you feel you haven’t a right to be proud.”

“How does one ask a man who is accustomed to
saying whatever he pleases to guard his tongue?”

“I imagine they would simply ask. The request
could either be honored or denied. In your case, if you wish it, I
will remain silent the rest of your stay.”

She could not help but smile at this. She
inhaled a deep breath and they began walking again. “You speak of
pride, Sir, which may only lead to egotistical affections and a
regard for vain things. I don’t concern myself with outward beauty,
even like this.” She raised her hands and examined herself. “Under
no circumstance would I have given in to such a façade.”

“Yet you did under
these
circumstances, if you could call it a circumstance. You were not
forced.”

“Not in the slightest, although there was
some pressure. When I insisted upon wearing what I’d brought along
for the occasion, it was so strongly opposed. Why, one of the
maidens began to have a very difficult time breathing. The other
actually went so far as to wrestle my clothing from me.”

He laughed at this. “They were simply seeing
to it Camille’s orders were followed.”

“I suppose it practical that I adorned myself
suitably.”

“I would have received you no matter
what.”

“Sister Camille was the one to bring a
specific ‘appearance’ to my attention.”

“She was merely going by protocol.”

“I cringe to think of my friends back home
seeing me this way. It would surely shift their opinion of me.”

“I’m afraid I do not understand,” he
admitted.

“I would rather be viewed from the inside
out, not the other way around. This has proven beneficial over the
years for me and for those I am personally acquainted with.”

“Ah, I see. Yes, that does make some sense.
After all, such was the manner in which I formed my opinion of you.
Not by way your appearance, for I hadn’t a clue…only that you were
not elderly as your name implies. No, my opinion had nothing to do
with any façade as you call it.”

She felt pleased to have proven her
point.

“Tell me,” he began, “have you ever been
proposed to?”

“Prior to this? Not since the age of twelve
when Jonas Arum asked me to marry him.” The memory to this day made
her smile. “He was but a child, himself, but certain we should be
wed when I became of age, even with my siblings in tow.”

“And how old was he, this Jonas?”

“Merely fourteen, but he pretended to be
every bit a grown man.” She appreciated the memory. “I have not
since then been proposed to.”

“I find that remarkable. Do you have some
ailment or flaw that you’ve disguised from me?”

She laughed at the playful insinuation and
corrected, “Not at all…only the citizens of Westerly understand and
reverence my calling, Lord Trent. Even strangers who have ventured
into town on and off over the years whether to stay or to go—they,
too, have understood it. The people respect my calling. They
respect me.”