Chapter 1
Lying on her straw pallet near the hearth, Katherine pondered the series of events that had led her, a simple blacksmith’s daughter, to lose her maidenhead to a nobleman she had never even met.
It had all begun a month ago, when her father had come back from Allerby Castle after delivering the chains he’d just finished for the new drawbridge.
“Katherine, listen to me. Lady Malpas, the lord’s sister, is about to go to Wales to be married and she is looking for English people to go with her.” He sounded more excited than he had been in months, which was good to hear. Life had been miserable this winter. “This is your chance.”
“Why would this be a chance for me?” she asked, not bothering to raise her head from her sewing. Her brother, Harry, had torn his shirt that morning—again. And she was repairing it—again. “I do not belong to her household, nor do I know her.”
“Not one of the maids and ladies she currently employs wants to go, so anyone willing to follow her will be looked favorably upon. I will take you to the castle in the morning and we’ll see if we can get you a position, perhaps as a chamberer or maid.
She will want someone who can speak her language and understand her instructions when she arrives in her new home.
I am certain that your willingness to go to Wales will compensate for your lack of experience and you will be accepted. ”
“But…I don’t want to go to Wales!” Katherine exclaimed, dropping the needle in her dismay. Why on earth would she want to go that far?
“I am sure it’s not that bad,” her father said with a wave of the hand. “Don’t believe everything you hear about the place. It’s probably not—”
“I mean that I don’t want to leave you,” she cut in, amazed he had not understood it by himself, “whether it is to go to Wales or to court!”
She looked around the cottage with something akin to panic. Small as it was, it was all she had ever known and filled with people she loved. How could she leave such a place to go to remote Wales alone?
“I know.” The spark in her father’s eyes suddenly died. “But I’m afraid we have no choice. The money you will earn in such a prestigious household will save us all from starvation. You know what the situation is.”
The blunt argument put an end to Katherine’s personal misgivings.
Of course. If there was a chance she could save them all, then she would go to Wales.
Or at least try to. Because there was always the chance that she would not be accepted.
As good as she was with a needle, she had never worked in a castle before and she had little notion of what the work of a chamberer entailed. Why would she be chosen?
But against all odds, she had been hired—and by none other than Lady Malpas herself.
The beautiful lady had caught a glimpse of Katherine and her father just as they’d walked into the courtyard. Upon hearing that they were there to enquire about some work, she had walked over to them as naturally as if she were in charge of such tasks, instead of the steward.
“I happen to be in need of someone like you,” she said, satisfaction lighting her face. So it is decided. You will accompany me to Wales.”
Her tone brooked no refusal. This was a lady used to having her wishes granted and she had made her decision. Unable to speak, Katherine bowed her head. As usual, things had been decided for her.
“It was fate that brought you here this day,” Lady Malpas continued, as if she had read her mind. “Look, we’re even of a height. You and I could be sisters.”
Katherine stole a glance at her father, who appeared as bemused as she was by the lady’s attitude. Still, there was no misunderstanding her intentions; she had been unequivocally hired and would leave for Wales in a fortnight’s time, when the bride left to meet her foreign groom.
That evening, Katherine and her father made their way back to the cottage with mixed emotions.
“Sisters,” she muttered under her breath, her feet pounding the muddy path. No sister of hers had ever worn an embroidered dress or a pearl-encrusted veil and likely never would. Why on earth had the lady made such an extravagant remark?
“It is true that the similarities between you two are striking,” his father said, misunderstanding her disbelief for disagreement. “I wager that if you wore the same clothes, even I would be hard-pressed to distinguish one from the other.”
Was he jesting with her? Katherine didn’t answer and the rest of the walk was accomplished in silence.
Her mother, who had not been privy to her husband’s plans, was aghast when told that her eldest daughter was about to leave for Wales, but bravely, she tried to hide her feelings. After all, what was there to say? Nothing, and no one had a better solution to offer to save the family.
That night, Katherine cried herself to sleep.
The next few days were spent making the most of the family she would not see for months, if not years to come.
Once she was in Wales, there was no telling how often she would be able to visit them.
Then finally, the dreaded day of the departure came.
That morning, only her father accompanied her to the castle.
Everyone had agreed it would be better if they said their goodbyes in the privacy of the cottage.
As soon as she arrived, Katherine was instructed to climb onto a rather sorry-looking nag.
Thankfully, she was used to riding, otherwise she might have panicked.
But her father had made sure that all his children knew how to ride, even if the opportunities to do so were few.
Soon after, the small retinue, with Lady Malpas and a guard at its head, set off.
Katherine didn’t look back once.
After a tiring trip of some ten days across fields and valleys, the travelers arrived at a small castle perched at the top of a hill.
It was called Castell y Ddraig, which apparently meant “Dragon’s Castle” in Welsh.
The name, Katherine had to admit, was rather ominous, but the castle itself was well-maintained and looked comfortable.
She actually smiled when she spotted the small herb garden outside the lists, the well-swept courtyard and the magnificent horses stationed in front of the stables.
This could actually be an enjoyable place to live, nothing like what she had dreaded.
The first unpleasant surprise was not long in coming, however.
During the trip, Lady Malpas had not addressed her with a single word, which, though it had stung, had not really been unexpected.
Katherine had persuaded herself that the lady would instruct her as to her new role when they arrived.
But she had been wrong. Lady Helen, the only lady who had agreed to follow her mistress, told her that she was to report to the kitchen immediately, where she would take on the role of scullion.
“B-but I thought I was to be a chamberer?” Katherine stammered.
The woman looked at her as if she had just announced she intended to marry King Edward II himself. “A chamberer? You?”
That single word held a world of meaning. A poor village blacksmith’s daughter would never be deemed good enough to approach her mistress. She had better make her peace with it.
After one last pat for her horse, Katherine headed to the kitchen, determined not to let this setback dim her spirit.
She was only here to earn money, and save her family from starvation.
She would have preferred to do it by making beds and lighting fires but she could do it just as well by scouring pots. She was not afraid of hard work.
It did not take her long to see that this was fortunate indeed. The rhythm in the smoky, hot kitchen was relentless.
A week after their arrival, the master of the castle, who apparently had not been warned of the retinue’s departure from England, came back. He had taken advantage of his last days as an unmarried man to visit his sister in Scotland, or so they’d been told.
The wedding was finally able to take place.
That night, Katherine, who had by then convinced herself that everyone had forgotten about her, was summoned to the solar.
She found the bride alone, in all her finery, pacing the room.
In her shimmering blue gown and delicate veil, Lady Malpas appeared like a royal princess rather than a mere knight’s daughter.
Her face, however, was distorted by anguish.
What had happened? Shouldn’t she be at the banquet with the guests instead of talking to a scullion?
Unsure what to do, Katherine gave a small curtsy.
“You will take my place in bed tonight,” the lady said without preamble. She had not even looked at her once.
Take her place.
Katherine blinked. Had she somehow misheard? She must have, for she’d thought that the newly wedded bride had just told her that she would have to take her place in the marital bed tonight. It could not be.
“My lady?” she said, utterly at a loss.
“You are going to replace me in the wedding bed later this evening,” Lady Malpas repeated, as if there was nothing extraordinary in the demand she was making of her.
“Since you and I are of a height and of similar appearance, the Welshman will never suspect a thing. The two of us only met today. In the dark, he will not see anything suspicious.”
“I-I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Don’t be obtuse. Why do you think I accepted to take you on without question, a poor blacksmith’s daughter?”
“I thought it was because, unlike others, I was willing to come to Wales,” Katherine mumbled.
A grating laugh answered her. “Indeed, it is not surprising that my people did not wish to accompany me. No one in their right mind would want to come to this land of savages. Thank God for Lady Helen’s loyalty.
But no, I took you on because I could not believe my luck when I saw you that day.
It was as if you had been sent as an answer to my prayers.
A woman who looked just like me. It was too good to be true. I could not let you go.”