Chapter Twelve #5
Once inside the cool, dark keep, Stephen opened the first door they came to and ushered Cade inside.
It was dark but for a small fire in the hearth.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Cade realized there was a young woman in the room, gazing back at him with eyes as wide as the heavens.
One look at Cade and she suddenly burst into tears.
While Cade was afraid he had done something to warrant such a thing, the massive knight closed the door to the solar and went to kneel beside the weeping woman.
Cade watched curiously, with some trepidation, as Stephen put his enormous arm around the woman’s shoulders and kissed her on the temple. Then the knight looked at him.
“As I said, my name is Stephen,” he said quietly. “I am Baron Lamberton, Guardian Protector of Berwick. This is my wife, the Lady Joselyn.”
Cade was not sure how to react, so he simply bowed because he didn’t know what else to do. But his gesture caused the lady to weep harder and he watched, wide-eyed, as Stephen comforted her.
“Cade,” Stephen began as gently as he could. “What do you remember about your childhood?”
Cade cocked his head. “Childhood, my lord?”
“When you were very small. What is your earliest memory?”
Cade blinked his big blue eyes thoughtfully. “I… I remember being with the nuns,” he said, having no idea why the knight was asking such questions. “I remember being in the gardens and eating carrots out of the ground. Is that what you mean?”
Stephen smiled faintly. “Aye,” he replied. “And your parents? Do you know anything about them?”
Cade shook his head, his deep auburn hair glistening in the flame. “Nay, my lord. I never knew my parents. I was told they died. That is why I went to live with the nuns. Why do you ask?”
By this time, Joselyn had stopped crying and she was gazing back at the boy with warmth and gentleness. He was very well spoken. Stephen glanced at her before continuing the conversation, noting the expression on her face. She was in love with the boy already. He continued carefully.
“I ask because the nuns were mistaken, Cade,” he said softly. “Your parents are not dead.”
Cade’s expression washed with disbelief and then confusion. “They are not dead?”
Stephen shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “Does this displease you?”
The boy had to think about it. He scratched his head, his brow wrinkling up into a frown. “I…I do not know,” he said honestly. “You say they are not dead?”
“Nay.”
“But how do you know?”
“Because Lady Joselyn is your mother.”
Cade’s focus was riveted to Joselyn, who struggled not to burst into tears again. She smiled timidly for lack of a better reaction as the boy stared at her, she thought, with some horror. After an eternity of silence and uncertain staring, Cade finally lowered his gaze and seemed to shrink away.
“I do not have a mother, my lord,” he turned for the door, unable to look at them, terrified by these confusing strangers. “Can I please go home? I want to go back to Ettrick.”
Joselyn looked at Stephen with horror but Stephen was fixed on the frightened, disoriented young man. He moved away from Joselyn and went to stand next to Cade, who was by now struggling not to cry. The boy’s head was lowered, his hair hanging over his eyes. Stephen cleared his throat softly.
“I realize this is a surprise, Cade,” he said softly.
“You have been alone your entire life and suddenly a stranger says she is your mother. But you must not judge so harshly. It is not that your mother wished to be separated from you. What happened was out of her control. She loves you now and has always loved you.”
Big, fat tears rolled down Cade’s cheeks and splattered onto the dusty floor. Stephen knelt down beside the boy, feeling genuine sorrow for him.
“I am sorry that you are upset by this,” he said with concern. “It was not our intention to upset you but I am not sure there was any simple way to tell you this news.”
The boy just stood there as big tears rolled off his face. He was struggling so hard to be brave, wiping furiously at his cheeks as if angry at the tears for falling. He clutched his satchel to his chest, holding silent for quite some time as the news sank deep.
“I want to go home,” he whispered tightly.
“I would like for you to stay and hear me out. Will you do this?”
Cade shook his head, struggling not to sob. “I do not want to hear anymore. Please let me go.”
Stephen sighed faintly, not daring to look at his wife. He was afraid to see the anguish in her eyes. “Please, Cade,” he said gently. “Please let me finish. This is important.”
Cade just stood there, holding his satchel against him as if it were a shield to protect him. He was disoriented and frightened. But there was also a small part of him that was very, very curious and, more than that, desperately hurt. He didn’t even know why, but he was hurt.
“W-why?” he finally whispered.
“What do you mean?” Stephen asked softly.
Cade continued to silently weep, silently wipe at his wet eyes. “If she is my mother, why did I go live with the nuns?”
Stephen looked at Joselyn then; surprisingly, she was composed. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, looking imploringly at Stephen in response to Cade’s question. Stephen sighed faintly as he turned back to the boy.
“Because your father is dead and your mother was too young and too ill to tend you.” It was a sweet and noble lie.
“She never stopped loving you, Cade. But she knew that the nuns could take much better care of you than she could. She loved you so much that she had to make a very hard decision that was best for you.”
Cade tried not to sob, fighting so hard to be strong.
Watching the young man struggle just about broke Stephen’s heart.
He was not beyond such compassion. Cade kept wiping at his damp face, trying hard to compose himself as he finally turned and looked at Joselyn.
She returned his gaze with a surprising show of strength and composure.
“You should have kept me,” the boy suddenly hissed, though it was without force. “I am strong. I could have worked when I was old enough. You did not have to send me away where no one would love me.”
Stephen watched his wife’s reaction very carefully, hoping she would not crack, but the most she did was nod as if to agree.
“I was very ill when you were born,” she told the child.
“I was also only twelve years old, just a year older than you are. I was very young, Cade. I did what I thought was best so that you would always have food in your mouth and a roof over your head. Please understand… understand that I loved you so much that I would do anything to ensure you had a comfortable life. To have kept you would have been selfish because there was no way I could have provided for you on my own. I loved you so much that I had to give you to someone who could take care of you.”