Red Deception (2 page)

My own life is much worse than this prim maiden’s was
, Judith thought.
I would be honored to marry the baron. All of my problems would be just a memory.

Her fingers traced the velvet edge of the blood-red cloak, and her gaze moved over the girl’s mess of raven hair.

She looks so much like me. I wonder if we could be mistaken for one another.
Judith mused.

She reprimanded herself for thinking such a thought.  She knew she should alert someone and cease her useless daydreaming.

 She stood up to head for the village, but her attention again wandered back to the lifeless corpse.

 She touched own cheek, re-living the moment her father-in-law’s thick palm hit her so hard she saw flickers of light.
Could I be Lora Noire? If only for a day…?

Her heart began to race as she looked around the quiet clearing. Without another moment of hesitation, she rushed back to the body of Lora Noire and knelt beside her.

“Forgive me, my lady,” she whispered as her trembling hands undressed the corpse.

Within moments, she had traded her itchy wool dress for Lora’s beautiful red gown and matching velvet cloak. The dress fit her snugly on her bosom and waist, but it would have to do.

Checking her appearance in the stream water, Judith could barely believe her eyes. She was transformed from a poor peasant to a lady.

She wasted no time redressing Lora’s corpse in her own faded rags and dragging her away from the clearing.

 She left the body in the shaded woods, beneath a tall pine. She swallowed her guilt, posed Lora’s hands over her abdomen, and tucked some wildflowers into her stiff fingers. The ensemble was complete.

If she looked quickly enough, Judith swore she could see herself laying there.

A chill coursed through her, and she fled out of the woods into the sunlight.

Just as she pulled the hood of her cloak up, a voice call out behind her.

“Lady Noire!”

She turned around to see a man striding towards her through the tall grass.

She pulled the cloak down further over her head and lowered her gaze to the ground.

“My lady, we have been searching for you all morning! Where have you been? Did that moment of fresh air you needed turn into a stroll in the wood?”

Judith could barely hear the question over the sound of her own heart beating in her ears. She nodded, staring at the ground.

“Come along. The baron is waiting. We do not want to keep him. They say he has a nasty temper.”

The man put his frail hand on shoulder and led her away from the stream toward the road. A beautiful carriage with two grey horses awaited them. The carriage door swung open for her, and the driver assisted her inside. She took her seat to the right, and the man who had found her in the woods sat across from her.

She peeked out from below her hood to watch him remove a cloth from his pocket and dab sweat from his balding head, mottled from age.

The carriage lurched forward suddenly, causing her to almost fall off the seat. She squealed and clung to the window curtain.

The man stared at her with a perplexed expression.
“Are you well, Lady Noire?”

She nodded, afraid to speak in fear she might give herself away. She forced her fingers to release the silk curtain before she tore it down.

“I know your upset about the arrangement. Your father just wants what is best for you.”

Judith kept her silence, clinging to the seat in unease.

“Lady Noire, your hands are filthy. Whatever were you doing?”

Judith glanced down at her palms coated in grime and shrugged in response.

“It would be best if you clean them before we reach the manor.”

He held out the cloth to her.

She hesitated before taking it and rubbing the dirt from her palms and fingers.

“Your hands look swollen,” he noted.

She knew her hands were fuller than Lora’s were.

She ignored his comment, keeping her head bowed as she worked the dirt out from between her fingers. She could scarcely believe where she was and what she was doing. She tried to stop her hands from trembling but it was no use. What would she say if she was discovered? Her rash decision had her stomach twisted as tight as a rope. She knew when she did not return to the cottage they would look for her. The thought of Sam worrying for her nauseated her with guilt, but it was too late to turn back…

Once finished, she handed the cloth back.

He took it and tossed it out the carriage window.

“You are certain you’re fine? You have not said two words since I found you.”

She nodded.

“Very well.” He groaned and leaned back on the seat. “Wake me when we arrive. Searching for you all morning has left me worn.”

She folded her hands in her lap, glad to be free of his inquisition. Not another word was shared between them rest of the ride.

Chapter 2

It was dusk when the carriage came to a halt. Judith peeked out of the carriage window, where a perfect view of the baron’s grey stone manor greeted her.

It was a breath taking sight. So many nights she had watched this ominous manor from her own little window, its roof tops illuminated in moonlight, its flickering windows beckoning her.

The carriage door swung open and the driver’s hand guided her out.

Judith could see the orange flicker of hearth light in every window. Two somber guards with dark stares awaited their arrival at the gate. Each held a gold-tipped spear in his left hand.

The man whom she had ridden with spoke for them.  “This is Lady Lora Noire of Wilshire, and I am Lyle Barnsby, a hired hand of the Noire family.”

“Welcome to Blacwin Manor,” the guard on the left replied, and the iron gates opened to welcome them inside.

The manor grew more intimidating as they passed between two gargoyle statues. Judith did not question Lora Noire’s apprehension any longer. A thought occurred to her: Had Lora and Baron Blacwin met before?

“Have I met Baron Blacwin?” she asked Lyle.

He paused.
“I am not certain. You cannot recall if you have met him?”

“I cannot.”

“I am sure you would recall his presence if you two had met. It would be frightfully embarrassing if you have forgotten your meeting.”

Her steps became hesitated, but he urged her along with a hand on her shoulder.
The thick summer air became harder to breathe with every step she took toward the immense oak doors that felt like a monsters maw, waiting to swallow her.

A female servant came out to greet them.

“Good evening, and welcome to Blacwin manor. You must be Lady Noire. We have been expecting you.”

Judith simply bowed her head, choked with fear.

Lyle cleared his throat. “Yes, this is Lady Lora Noire. You must excuse her manners; the ride has left her worn. I am Lyle Barnsby, her hired hand for the journey. She has some trunks on the carriage, if you would be so kind as to assist us in bringing them to her room.”

“Yes, of course. We will have someone to fetch them right away. Lady Noire, let me take your cloak,” she offered, holding out her hands.

“No,” Judith said, pulling the red cloak around her shoulders and stepping out of reach.

“My Lady Noire, what has gotten into you?” Lyle questioned.

 “I would like to leave my cloak on, please. I am afraid I may have caught a chill.”

“A chill? We should get her to her room immediately. A change of clothes will do her good,” Lyle said.

“Of course,” the servant said. “Come along, Lady Noire. We have a hearth burning in your guest room.”

“Lady Noire, I will give your regards to your father,” Lyle called from the doorway as she was led into the dark manor.

He disappeared behind the tall manor doors.

Judith’s heart hammered in her ears as she was led through the foreboding manor. Thick drapes covered most of the windows, shunning any light of day. Paintings lined the walls with gruesome figures that watched her with cold stares as if they knew her secret. She balled the cloak into her fists and closed her eyes, listening to her echoed her footfalls on the elegant marble floors that made the manor feel more like a mausoleum.  She finally arrived in an empty feast hall.

An elegant long table that could seat at least thirty guests sat in the center of the room. At the far end of the hall, a hearth beckoned them with warmth, its face decorated with weaponry. Taxidermy trophies of all species imaginable stared down at her from every wall. Elaborate tapestries told stories of hunts, feasting, and war.

“Are you hungry, Lady Noire? We have prepared a supper in your name. Do you wish for some warm cider to remove your chill?”

“No, thank you.”

“Very well. This way to your room.”

The servant led her through another series of sinister corridors and up a flight of winding stairs. They paused before large double doors carved with mirrored images of stags rearing up. She produced a key from the pocket of her dress and unlocked the door. Warmth rushed out to greet them. Judith could not wipe the look of awe from her face as she stared at the most immaculate room she had ever seen. A fire burned in the hearth, as promised. An immense dark wood four-poster canopy bed loomed in the far corner. The bedding looked soft and wonderful, made of red damask silk reserved for royalty.

“May I take your cloak now, Lady Noire?” 

Judith untied the cloak, let it slip from her shoulders, and crossed her arms, feeling as if the truth of her identity were written all over her.

“Is there anything more I can do for you, Lady Noire?” the servant asked.

“No, thank you,” Judith replied, stepping further into the room, admiring the sheer size of it.

“I will leave you to rest, then. We will fetch you for supper.”

Judith waited until the doors closed before she walked to the bed and brushed her fingertips over the luxurious linens. The coverlet was double-stitched to keep the cold out on a winter night. A black bear hide lay folded at the foot of the bed for extra warmth. Tears of joy burned Judith’s eyes. The room was truly something out of a dream.
 

Like a child, she threw herself down on the fluffed pillows and nuzzled her face into them. Giggling, she kicked off her muddy boots and rubbed her feet against the bearskin blanket.

A knock on the door scared the joy right out of her.

She leapt off the bed and straightened her dress.

“Yes?” she called.

“Lady Noire? I have your belongings.” a man’s voice called back.

She pulled open the door to see a pock-faced man standing beside a stack of trunks.