Chapter One #2
Eustace’s face turned crimson as he rose from his seat, trembling. “How dare you call me that! Get out before I call my guards.”
It was tempting to stay and make more trouble, but he had Julia to think of. He had no wish to make matters worse on her first day at her new home. Nonetheless, he could not hold back a parting warning.
“She is far too good for you, and if I ever hear that you have harmed a single hair on her head, I will come riding across the moors and take bloody vengeance, no matter what it costs me.”
“You dare to threaten me in my own castle?” Eustace’s face went from crimson to purple.
“Not a threat. A promise.” And with that, he turned and clanked out of the great hall.
Behind him, Eustace let out an animal sound, and thuds suggested his half brother had thrown a chair or two.
It had probably been unwise to say such a thing. This was Eustace’s castle, after all, and Galfrid was badly outnumbered if it came to a fight. But he wasn’t sorry. He would defend Julia to his dying breath.
Tearing off his helm, he made his way to the kitchens where his mother once worked, needing no guide even after all these years.
Curious glances from servants followed him as he rattled and clattered through the echoing stone halls.
There was even a gasp or two. The servants had always treated him with cautious distance.
He was not one of them, one step above, but not of the nobility.
Instead, he had always been trapped between worlds.
As he stepped into the low-ceilinged, smoky kitchen, he glanced around at the servants going about their work, hoping to spot someone he knew. Finally, he caught sight of a familiar figure with auburn hair hunched over a spit in the open hearth. “Moira, is that you?”
She straightened abruptly and clutched her chest at the sight of him. “Saints alive! Galfrid?”
Moira’s hair had streaks of white at the temples now, but otherwise, her round face was unchanged. She squinted at him as if trying to make out the boy he’d once been.
“Aye, it is. I accompanied Lady Julia on her journey here from Northumberland. She is to wed Lord Eustace tonight. I am here but for the day, and then I return to the north. I was hoping I might visit my mother’s grave while I was here. Can you tell me where it is?”
Her face softened as she smiled sadly. “Of course, my boy. You always were a good son. I have a small chest with a few of her things if you want to look through them. I kept them in case you ever returned. I thought you should have them.”
His heart rose on hearing that. It was far more than he could have hoped. “I should like that very much.”
Moira smiled and wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll go get it for you. Just a moment. Wilf, will you take over the spit?”
A young boy of seven or eight came scurrying over from where he’d been chopping vegetables at a rough wood table. “Aye, Moira.”
Moira scurried out of the kitchen, and Wilf looked up at him with a curious gaze as he took over the slow turning of the handle for the spit. “Who are you?”
“My name is Sir Galfrid. I used to live here when I was your age. My mother, Kate, worked here in the kitchens.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “I thought you looked like Mistress Kate. You have the same red hair. We miss her something terrible. She used to sneak me honey cakes when no one was looking.”
A lump formed in Galfrid’s throat. He remembered his mother doing the same for him when he was Wilf’s age. “I miss her too.”
“What do you know about the new lady? Is she nice?” Wilf asked, oblivious to his emotion.
Taking a deep breath, he smiled at the boy.
“Lady Julia is very nice. She’ll be a good mistress to you and might even sneak you a honey cake or two from time to time, like my mother did.
” One of the things he loved about Julia was her love of children.
Whether they were her noble nieces and nephews or the servants’ children, she always had a kind word and a little treat to share.
“That’s a relief. We were all worried.” Wilf glanced around at the other servants, who weren’t bothering to be discreet about their eavesdropping. “We’re hoping she’ll soften up His Lordship. He’s been in a foul mood of late.”
That didn’t bode well. His heart ached for her.
But she was strong and spirited. If anyone could tame Eustace, it was her.
Still, he longed to comply with her wishes and sweep her away.
Consequences be damned! But it wasn’t his place.
He would not see her come to harm for his sake.
She might not be happy with Eustace, but she’d be safe and sound and live the proper life she was destined for as lady of the castle.
“I pray that she will,” he said at last.
Moira reappeared with a chest so small that he could easily fit it in his saddle bag.
He took it from her with all the gentleness he possessed.
This precious chest was all he had left of the woman who had been his one solace through his early years.
“I cannot thank you enough for this. It means a great deal to me to have something to remember her by. And now, if you wouldn’t mind telling me where to find her grave? ”
“It’s in the churchyard, marked with a wooden cross. It’s at the very back where the heather has grown tall. His Lordship didn’t want her buried in sacred ground, but the priest insisted she had done enough penance in life to earn a Christian burial.”
Her words brought war to his heart: anger for the callousness of his stepbrother, gratefulness for the priest who’d given his mother a place of rest in sacred ground. In the end, he chose to be grateful. Mama would rest in peace.
“Thank you, Moira. Truly. You were always a good friend to my mother. I must hurry, as shadows are growing longer. The hour of the wedding approaches, and then I must be gone. Be good to Lady Julia. Take care of her. She’s a strong woman, but she’ll need all the help she can get.”
“I will,” Moira promised. “I’d give you a hug, but I’m not sure you’d feel it under all that armor.” She settled for squeezing his hand.
“Farewell. May God’s blessings go with you.
” With that, Galfrid hurried out the kitchen door into the yard, barely glancing at the kitchen garden or the hogs and chickens as he made his way to the postern gate in the waning afternoon light.
A chill breeze made him shiver beneath his armor as leaves in every shade of brown and red swirled around his clanking feet.
The autumnal weather matched his funereal mood as he prepared himself to say goodbye to the two women he’d ever loved—his mother and Julia.
It was time to make his peace, even as everything in him rebelled against it.
For dusk was approaching, and once the sun went down, they would both be lost to him forever.