Chapter Sixteen
Six months later
The baby goats are in fine form today!
Emmeline had already been hopped on and nibbled on.
The servant who usually brought in the milk was ill on this day, so Emmeline had stepped in to milk the mother goats, something the baby goats took exception to.
Not so much exception, really, as they simply wanted to play.
The moment she sat down on the three-legged stool with her bucket was the moment the little goats decided she was a mountain to climb.
And they tried.
So the baby goats jumped and stepped on her and tried to climb her as she milked their mothers.
They really were awfully cute, and she would pat their little heads in between milking teats.
There was also a big goose in the kitchen yard, one the cook was trying to fatten up for a coming feast, and he seemed very interested in what she was doing, too.
Between the goats and the goose, it took Emmeline twice as long as usual to finish her task.
But she didn’t really mind.
They were sweet distractions.
It was a mild summer’s day in a string of several mild days.
The rainy season was just on the horizon, so Emmeline enjoyed the sun while she could.
These were days of normalcy, or as normal as they could get, though from time to time she thought about the child she should have had in her arms by this time.
A baby that would have been three months old, probably with her hair and eye color, and her smile.
Instead, that baby was buried in a small crypt in the nave of St. Catherine’s Church in Penrith.
Elizabetha, the crypt said.
She thought about her every day.
There was someone else she thought of every day, too.
Addax had never left her mind, not for a moment.
He was the last thing she thought of at night and the first thing she thought of in the morning.
She’d never heard from him again after his departure from Alston six months ago, but it was better that way, even if it was painful.
She imagined he was back on the tournament circuit as the Black Dragon won purses and made a name for himself.
She hoped he was happy, or at least trying to be happy.
She hoped he was safe and warm and healthy.
She hoped and prayed for all of those things for the man she still loved with all her heart, and always would.
Zahid.
More than love.
Since his departure, however, things at Alston had changed.
Quite honestly, Maximilian had changed. He wasn’t suddenly a wonderful husband, but his behavior had changed.
He didn’t fight with her as they had the first six months of her marriage, and she, in turn, didn’t fight with him.
He tried to understand a little more about how the money was made and how the mines worked, which made him less demanding when it came to coinage.
He still asked for it, and she still gave him what she could whenever he asked, but she’d heard that the woman in Penrith that he was fond of had given birth to his son, and she suspected he was spending the money on the boy.
Not that she could stop him.
But something had shocked both Maximilian and Claudius into better behavior toward her since the night she was pushed down the stairs.
Claudius especially. He came to visit quite frequently these days, and she further suspected that Bretherdale’s presence had something to do with Maximilian’s change in demeanor.
Sometimes, Maximilian could actually be pleasant when his father was around.
When he wasn’t around, Maximilian was civil and little more.
He’d asked her once, about three months ago, if she wanted another child, and she had declined, knowing what that involved with him.
He’d never asked again, but she supposed she should give the man credit for at least asking.
They’d come to a stable coexistence, the two of them.
It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than it had been.
She was grateful for small mercies.
The stable coexistence also meant he spent more time at Alston, strangely enough.
Like today—Pierre had taken him to inspect one of the mines, something Maximilian had been reluctant to do, and learn about, but he was becoming more accustomed to it.
His right arm, broken twice now, hadn’t healed correctly the second time, either, so returning to the tournament circuit was out of the question.
The King of Chaos had hung up his lance for good, so he’d resigned himself to learning about mines and things.
At least it kept him busy and out of her hair.
Finished with the milking, Emmeline hauled two full pails into the kitchen for the cook.
Because of the ill servant, the chickens hadn’t been fed either, so Emmeline volunteered.
Usually, the fowl were left to their own devices when it came to feeding, but the cook liked to feed them the wheat grain that wasn’t good enough to be ground into flour because she thought it made their meat sweeter, so Emmeline walked the yard and tossed the grain to the chickens.
The goose gobbled it up, too, and the little goats wanted to play again.
Emmeline kept having to pull the hem of her dress away from little teeth.
“Do you know how to talk to the animals?”
Looking up, she saw Maximilian standing several feet away. She hadn’t even heard him enter the yard. “Not that I’m aware of,” she said, tossing more wheat to the chickens. “Why do you ask?”
Maximilian pointed to all of the animals milling around her feet. “Because they follow you around like you have given them orders,” he said. “You must speak their language.”
She held up a handful of grain. “I speak the language of food,” she said. “Every creature understands that.”
Maximilian shrugged. “True,” he said. He watched her for a moment before continuing. “I came to tell you that I just received a missive from Raisbeck.”
She glanced up at him. “Oh? And how is your father?”
“Dead.”
Emmeline stopped spreading the grain, looking at him in shock. “Sweet Mary,” she said softly. “He is?”
“Aye.”
It took her a moment to digest the news. “I am so very sorry to hear that,” she said. “When?”
Maximilian was still looking at the chickens. He didn’t seem particularly distressed, but he did seem stunned.
“This morning, evidently,” he said. “His servant went to wake him and saw that he was dead.”
“Are you going to Raisbeck immediately?”
Maximilian nodded. “Aye,” he said. Then he eyed her. “That means I am the new Earl of Bretherdale, and you are the new countess.”
Emmeline waved him off. “That does not matter to me,” she said. “It never has. Your father was a kind man in the end, Maximilian. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Maximilian shook his head. “I do not think so,” he said. “I will go to Raisbeck and make arrangements for the funeral. You should probably attend, as the new countess.”
“Of course I will attend,” she said. “Would you like me to go with you?”
“Not now. I’d rather go alone.”
“I understand.”
He continued to look at her. “My father liked you, you know,” he said. “I think he felt guilty for forcing marriage upon us, but he grew to like you.”
“I liked him.”
“He thought you would make a fine countess.”
“I hope I can do good for the people of the earldom.”
Maximilian shrugged and turned away. “I am certain you can,” he said. “But let us deal with the burial first. I do not know when I will return, but I will send word about his mass once I make arrangements with the priests in Penrith.”
“Very well,” Emmeline said. “I will wait to hear from you.”
With that, Maximilian turned away, heading off to the stables to collect his horse. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure how he felt.
Numb, possibly.
He thought it rather ironic that, for all the times his father told him he was sick or dying, his actual death should come so quickly and unexpectedly.
He wasn’t sure he was prepared for it. Even though he and his father had had a contentious relationship, the man was still his father.
The future had changed for him now. So much had happened within the past six months that it was difficult to know how to chart the path he wanted to chart.
The perfect example was Emmeline.
Once, he’d tried to kill her. That had been his intention, but Emmeline was strong.
She survived the fall down the stairs, even if the child hadn’t, and he had been rewarded for his treachery by taking a beating from Addax that left him crippled and wounded for several weeks afterward.
Once he regained his wits and his strength, he wanted vengeance against Addax for doing that to him, for challenging him in his own home and punishing him for his actions, but his father had convinced him that revenge against Addax al-Kort would only cause him harm in the long run.
Claudius had explained, but Maximilian already knew, that Addax was beyond reproach.
He was supported by not only the Earl of Hereford, but also the House of de Velt.
Addax and his brother were thick as thieves with some of the most powerful men in the country, and Claudius had convinced Maximilian that if he tried to seek vengeance against Addax in any way, armies would descend on Alston and wipe it from the earth.
Given that Maximilian knew the strength of both the House of de Lohr and the House of de Velt, he believed that implicitly.
His vengeance was forgotten.
But his emotional wounds from a former friend turning on him hadn’t.