Chapter Eight #2
Flora nodded quickly, heading for the door. “This way, my lady,” she said, opening the chamber door. “We’ll stuff the mattress while you’re eating so the bed will be ready for you when you return.”
Andromeda gathered the skirt so she wouldn’t step on it, as it was still a little long for her. “You have my gratitude,” she said. “Thank you for your kindness.”
Flora went ahead of her out of the chamber, down the narrow, steep stairs that they had taken down to the storage chamber.
Because the dress was still long and she was terrified of plunging to her death down the stairs, Andromeda took her time, taking each step carefully.
They went down two flights, ending up in a small corridor that opened up into the keep entry.
From there, they headed out into the moonlit night.
The sky looked as if a million diamonds had been thrown against it, sticking to the black expanse, glittering down on the land below.
The smell of smoke was heavy in the air, drifting on the night air, and it only served to reinforce how much better Andromeda felt.
She was home, in a castle, and although it wasn’t like Rockbrook, it was still a setting she was familiar with.
Far better than the taverns she had lived in over the past year.
She was in a place, a setting, where she felt comfortable. Her mood was lightening.
She was ready to face her father.
The door to the great hall opened wide. Flora left her to go in alone at that point, and she did, stepping into the warm, stale hall that was full of soldiers having their meal.
Servants moved among the tables, and the hall was so large that there were several, but she spoke to the first servant she came across and asked where Carr mac Murda was.
The servant pointed to the opposite end of the hall.
She could see the dais through the smoke and haze, so she headed in that direction.
Head held high, feeling confident for the first time in a very long while, she walked straight for the dais.
She could see her father talking to another man she didn’t recognize, but she did recognize Tristan and Addax, two knights she’d ridden from Ruabon with.
Her first gesture when she reached the table was to thank Tristan for allowing her to use the clothing left behind, so she smiled as she drew near the table, fixed on his bearded face.
He looked slightly startled.
“My lord,” she said, dipping into a curtsy. “I want to thank you for allowing me use of the clothing left behind by the previous occupants. It was very generous. And I hope you do not mind that I wore a necklace one of the servants found. It seems to go with the dress.”
Tristan blinked. It was a sort of slow, odd blink, suggesting either he didn’t understand what she was saying or he was in utter disbelief. Probably both. He didn’t answer right away, prompting Addax, who was across the table from him and nearer to Andromeda, to answer for him.
“I am certain the garment has never looked so good, demoiselle,” he said politely. “In truth, I do not think anyone at this table recognizes you. We thought an angel had walked into our midst. Didn’t we, Pat?”
Tristan seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in. “Indeed,” he said. He stood up from his chair, looking at her incredulously. “It is you, Lady Andromeda?”
She chuckled. “I know it is difficult to believe, but it is me,” she said. “Soap and water can accomplish quite a bit.”
Tristan nodded, a quick, oddly nervous bob of the head. “I would say that is an understatement,” he said. Then he gestured to the chair between him and Carr. “Please come and sit. I cannot remember when last we had such charming company.”
Gathering her skirt, Andromeda stepped up to the dais, on a raised platform above the rest of the hall.
She went straight to the chair Tristan had indicated and sat.
He waited until she sat down before he took his chair again, summoning a servant for drink.
Wine was placed in front of Andromeda, and as she grasped her cup, she found herself looking at her father.
She had his full attention.
“Jesus,” he muttered when their eyes met. “You look like your mother, only your mother never possessed your beauty. What I saw today… Why were you so dirty, lass? You should have come to me looking as you do now. I might have been proud to receive you.”
Andromeda sensed judgment in that statement, and it put her on her guard.
Truthfully, she didn’t remember her father much.
She had been so young the last time she saw him.
He’d come to visit her at Rockbrook a couple of times in her youth, but the last time had been several years ago.
Truth be told, she didn’t remember him being very warm even back then.
“If I could have come to you clean and properly dressed, I would have,” she said. “Since you did not permit me to tell you why I have come, allow me to do it now. I have come because Lord de Courcy sent me out of Ireland for my own safety.”
Carr settled back in his chair, looking over a daughter who was a spectacular beauty. Truthfully, he was shocked. “So I have heard,” he said. “What has happened that you had to come to England?”
Andromeda took a sip of the tart red wine before answering. “There is much fighting going on at home,” she said honestly. “Where we live, it is the Dubliners and Leinster against Lochlainn and his allies.”
“I know,” Carr said. “Lochlainn and mac Amlaib, the King of the Isles. They were conspiring against us before I came to England.”
“But they’ve grown bolder,” Andromeda said.
“Not long ago, they came to Lord de Courcy with an offer—it seems that the man who wanted to marry my mother, Caine mac Lochlainn, has a son named Gavan, who is of marriageable age. They wanted to discuss a marriage between me and Gavan. Lord de Courcy refused to discuss a marriage, and Lochlainn became bolder. They threatened to simply abduct me and force me into a marriage, so on a dark night about a year ago, they came to the castle and demanded entry. Lady de Courcy spirited me out of the castle as her husband held their attention, and I was given over to six soldiers who were supposed to take me to you at Pembroke Castle. We made it across the sea to Liverpool on one of de Courcy’s cogs, but once we reached the village of Ruabon, they decided to simply take the money they were paid and abandon me. That is where I have been ever since.”
Carr was looking at her incredulously. “They simply left you?”
“They did.”
“Then why did you not send word to me?” he asked as if she were stupid. “You could have sent a messenger to Pembroke.”
Andromeda took another sip of wine because repeating her story was beginning to upset her.
“The soldiers took all of the money,” she said.
“I had nothing but the clothing on my back, and even that had been stolen off a servant because the soldiers would not spend any of the money they’d been given on me.
What was meant to pay my way was used, by them, to fund their comfort.
While they slept in good beds in the taverns, I was forced to sleep with the servants because they would not pay for a room.
After they left me, I procured a position as a serving wench at a tavern.
As soon as I earned enough money, I hired a messenger to take a missive to Pembroke, but the man took my money and never returned.
I never heard from you, so I assume he simply took my money and never did what I hired him to do. ”
Carr was eyeing her rather ominously. “So you have been… a serving wench?”
“I was trying to earn enough money to hire an escort to take me to Pembroke.”
Carr sat back in his chair again, looking at his daughter with an expression of great distress. “Jesus,” he mumbled. “You have been working as a serving wench. My daughter.”
Andromeda could see that it upset him. “It is not the life I would have chosen,” she said, thinking he was speaking out of concern.
“My main worry was keeping away the men who thought I was a… Well, they thought I was a woman they could pay to warm their bed. That is why I was so dirty when I came here—smearing dirt seemed to be the only way to deter some of them. It was very difficult at times, but I was able to earn money. I can honestly say that I learned things that fostering in a fine home will not teach you.”
He frowned. “And you are proud of this?”
“I am proud that I survived,” she said. “Aren’t you?”
He began to drink again, downing the contents of his cup before answering. “You are not to tell anyone else that you were a common serving wench in a lowly tavern,” he said. “No one must know.”
“Why not?”
“Because it is humiliating!”
Throughout the conversation, Andromeda had thought her father was being sympathetic toward her. Perhaps even protective. But now she was coming to see that he had great disdain for what she’d done. He was embarrassed by it.
And then it occurred to her.
The cold reception when she arrived and now this.
He wanted nothing to do with her. They’d never spent any time together, living in the same household, so he was viewing her as a stranger who happened to bear his name and his blood.
A stranger who had worked as a common serving wench and could possibly shame him in front of his friends and colleagues. He wasn’t concerned for her at all.
Only himself.
Now, she understood him.
“I see,” she said quietly. “You are humiliated by the fact that I took a position to earn money. What did you call me? A common serving wench? How understanding of you, Carr. How generous.”
She called him by his given name. Not Father or Papa, but Carr. When he realized she was being sarcastic and possibly disrespectful, his eyes narrowed.