To Every Love, There is a Season Page 6

  Ellen shrugged, and looked perplexed. Whatever was wrong, Papa was very angry. She stuck her head out the stillroom door, glanced about, and felt a sense of dread fill her. Despite a guilty conscience for keeping secrets from her father, she was certain he would never approve of her current activities. Had Kitty broken her promise and said something to him? If you betrayed me, I will never trust you with another secret as long as I live.

  "There you are. In the counting room, young lady, right now.” Hugh waited, and watched his daughter wipe her sweat dampened hands on her apron. She looked rather contrite at the moment, as she exchanged glances with her aunt. Hugh's gaze narrowed on his sister-in-law, refusing to acknowledge her questioning look.

  Hugh followed his daughter into the room, shut the door and circled around his daughter, then stood before her. He was not surprised she returned his stare. “What, pray tell, were you thinking?” He wanted to shout at her, vent his anger, but fought to keep himself under control.

  "I have no idea what you are talking about.” The small room seemed to be closing in on her. Once again, she wiped her sweat dampened hands on her apron.

  "Do not play the innocent with me, girl. You were seen just within the wood and Stephen was untying the laces on your dress."

  "Who claims to have seen us? We did nothing wrong,” she replied softly. She stood straight, and stared at her father.

  "Then you admit to it."

  "I admit we did nothing wrong. My laces were stuck and Stephen helped to undo them. If whoever saw us had remained a moment or two longer, they would have seen I was wearing boys’ clothing beneath the dress."

  It always amazed Hugh, how Ellen could remain calm in the face of his anger, or anyone else's for that matter. He could not recall a time when he had ever seen her lose her temper—except with David. That was another problem, entirely. “How could you be so foolish? What if Stephen thought to take advantage of your innocence? You would have been helpless to do anything to defend yourself.” He tried not to yell at her, and barely succeeded in keeping his voice low. He had to release his anger and calmly deal with the situation. This was one conversation he did not want flying about the castle with the rest of the servants’ gossip. Heaven knew they had more than enough to keep their tongues wagging. Huge walked around the desk and sat in the chair, then studied his daughter.

  "I knew he would not, Papa. He is your best friend and he would never betray your trust. He would never hurt anyone you love."

  "Even best friends have been known to betray one another. I give you credit, this time you chose wisely; I do trust Stephen. I know he would let no harm befall you."

  "Did Stephen tell you what we were doing? He promised not to say anything. I knew if you found out, you would stop me. I do not want to go against your wishes, Papa, but I cannot be confined within these walls all day long. I am not like Kitty."

  Hugh recognized the understatement for what it was. While he had no complaint regarding the way Margaret taught his daughters their duties, he was well aware of Ellen's desire to be free. A memory surfaced in his mind, and brought a smile to his lips. “Shall I tell you of your mother? I know you recall little of her, having been so young when she died. I also know, you believe Kitty is my favorite child because she looks most like Anne did.

  "What you do not know, is that you favor your mother in another way. Anne's father indulged her, just as I have you. She loved adventure, and hated having her duties keep her within the castle, but when her work was done she would have her mare saddled and ride out of the castle. Her long golden hair floated on the wind like a flowing cape. I used to wait on the hill just beyond the village, just for a chance to see her racing across the estate. After she died, I would go up to that hill and imagine her still riding free. I could still see her. She was beautiful. Her spirit of adventure lives on in you, Ellen. So you see, I understand your need for freedom, much better than you realize.” For a moment, Hugh was in another time and place as memories engulfed him.

  He looked up at his daughter, then rose from his chair and stepped around the desk. Leaning against it, he reached over and took Ellen's hands in his “I will allow these ‘lessons’ to continue, on the condition, you do not get it into that pretty head of yours that I will grant you whatever you wish to do. There are limits, young lady."

  "Yes, Papa. Thank you, Papa.” Ellen's words rushed forth as he drew her closer and held her tightly in his arms.

  "You should have been born a second son. Life would have been easier for us both.” He kissed the top of her head, then released her.

  The door opened and Gordon stepped into the room. “I am sorry, father, I did not know you were still speaking with Ellen."

  "Back to your aunt, daughter, and learn your lessons well."

  Hugh waited for the door to close behind Ellen, closing out the rest of the castle. “This seems to be a day of revelations. Why did you never tell me of the problem between your sister and the priest?” he asked his son.

  Gordon was taken aback by this particular question and wondered what had brought it on. “Long ago, Ellen begged us not to say anything to you about it. She feared you would stop her from taking lessons with us. So we promised not to say anything. After a while, Bernard began ignoring her, and we believed that was the end of the problem."

  "Evidently not. Does he still harass her?"

  "Probably. I am sure it is the old worn out sermon about Daughters of Eve being wily, but unteachable, and unrepentant sinners.” Gordon grinned.

  "Perhaps it is time the priest was sent back to the abbey and another one found for our estate. Apparently the man thinks too well of himself and feels too secure in his position here."

  "Do not send him away, father, at least not yet. Ellen seems to gain strength from her ‘battles’ with the not so good father. I have a feeling there will be a final confrontation between the two before very long.” Gordon stepped aside and turned, then leaned against the edge of the desk, next to Hugh. “Anyway, Father Bernard is not the reason I came looking for you."

  "What do you wish for now?” Hugh raised one eyebrow and stared into his son's blue-gray eyes. There was humor in their depths, and the older man wondered what his son was up to this time.

  "Oh, nothing for me, at least not this time. This has to do with Ellen."

  "All right, speak your mind, son. What has she done to you that you must come to me for a bit of—vengeance? There is mischief in the air."

  Gordon crossed his arms over his chest and contemplated the bare floor for a moment. There were no rushes in this room to attract fleas and mice—not that Aunt Margaret would allow the vermin to nestle in any home she cared for. He realized his father was staring at him, waiting patiently for an explanation. “Have you given thought to finding Ellen a husband?"

  "Now, why would you be in a hurry to see your sister married off?"

  "Oh, I am in no hurry to see her married, and in even less a hurry to become an uncle. I was just wondering."

  "I believe, for the first time, your dear sister has out maneuvered herself. I do not know of any man who would accept her to wife. She is too forward, too adventurous, too outspoken, too...” Hugh shrugged, once again giving vent to his frustration over his daughter.

  "Too much like mother?"

  Hugh glanced at his son. “Your grandfather feared no man would have Anne. Your mother's free spirit attracted me. She would never allow herself to be taken for granted. And so it is with your sister."

  "I believe I have the solution to our dilemma."

  "You have a solution to ‘our’ dilemma.” The look father gave son was filled with doubt.

  "Yes. David."

  "Gordon,” Hugh slung an arm about his son's shoulders, “have you at all noticed how David and Ellen fight like cat and dog?"

  "Ah, but, father, have you noticed how they sneak looks at one another when they think no one is watching?” Gordon grinned like a man with many secrets and more than willing to divulge a few. “You
should watch them more closely, then you would see there is something more than the fighting they do. David knows full well what Ellen is like. He's helped foster her independence, should he not have the privilege of dealing with it?” Gordon's expression turned devilish. “He has always cared for, and protected Ellen. You could find no better match for her in all of England.” Gordon was rather proud of his efforts on David's behalf, despite the fact his friend knew nothing about it.

  "Humph. You make a good argument for them. Perhaps I should watch them more closely and give the matter serious consideration.” Hugh gave his son a suspicious look. “What do you get from such a match?"

  Gordon shrugged good naturedly. “My best friend becomes my brother."

  Hugh laughed and clapped his son on the shoulder. “Good enough. We'll speak of this again at a later time."

  After Gordon left, Hugh remained unmoved, sitting on the edge of his desk. His son presented an interesting suggestion. As he gave it more thought, he considered Ellen and David could very well kill each other before the wedding night. They could not look at one another without breaking into an argument. The duke got up and paced the room for a few moments, then decided he needed to talk to someone.

  * * * *

  In the stable, Hugh had his favorite horse saddled, then letting Drummer have his head, he rode to the hilltop where he used to watch Anne race across the fields. He could see her now, leaning against her mare's neck, the wind in her golden hair. He could hear her laughter floating back to him, as if she were really there. Time stood suspended. “How I miss you, my Annie,” he half whispered.

  Why would you miss me when I'm always close by?

  The whisper in his ear startled him. Hugh looked about him, and at first, saw nothing out of the ordinary. The features of his beloved Annie, took shape before him. She looked just as she had fifteen years earlier, before Ellen was born.

  "Have I done our daughter an injustice, letting her grow up as you did?"

  My dearest husband, our daughter has gone beyond the things I did when I was her age. I would have learned more, had I someone to teach me, but my father always said it was unseemly, and I should act the lady of the manor. Do you know how boring it is to act like a lady at all times? The faint figure shimmered with mirth, and flicked a wrist. Of course you would not know. Silly question.

  "Our children are growing up so quickly. Gordon has been knighted, Ellen is of marriageable age, and Kitty is so quiet, ’tis easy to forget she is nearby. It takes little to please her. I am not sure I am ready to give the care of my daughters to other men."

  One day you will have to step aside and let another care for and protect them. Then it will be their turn to worry about children. Annie's face glowed with an impish sense of humor.

  "What do you think of David as a match for Ellen?"

  Well, she began, as if giving the subject a great deal of thought. He is most everything a knight should be. He does not realize it yet, but he is in love with Ellen, always has been. It is to be hoped he will acknowledge those feelings before it is too late and Ellen is promised to another. Even with all her patience, she may grow tired of waiting for him.

  "Would you care to wager on that, my dear?” Hugh chuckled.

  Annie's soft laughter filled his mind and heart, as her image faded into nothing. Once more alone, Hugh mounted Drummer and set the gelding toward Ravencliff.

  A short time later, Hugh spotted Ellen and David in the gardens. Ellen's arms flew about in wild gestures, while anger contorted her features. David stood still, his arms folded across his chest. His own expression reflected his short patience, and when he spoke, his motions were more contained, but mirrored Ellen's almost perfectly. Hugh wondered what the argument was about this time, then sighed, and decided he would rather not know.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ellen returned to the castle, satisfied with her morning's lessons. She and Stephen had spent part of the morning by the stream, where he pointed out numerous prints in the mud, and identified them for her. He explained habits of some of the animals that ventured near the stream during the night. She was learning to listen more carefully to the sounds around her and could name a few of the birds she heard. The calls were clues, Stephen said, to the goings on around her, and if she paid attention, she could save herself much grief.

  The sound of sword clashing against sword echoed across the bailey, amidst hoots and cheers, drew Ellen's attention back to the present, and the training area. She knew she had no business being there, but no silly rules would stand in the way of her curiosity.

  Ellen squeezed her way through a group of knights intent on watching the mock battle. Gordon and David were well matched in skill, and she was vaguely aware of the wagering going on. The men-at-arms glanced down at her and moved aside, their jeers and suggestive remarks slowly fading away. She paid them no mind, and never noticed the ensuing vocal silence. Her only interest was in watching Gordon and David trying to best one another. Ellen was proud of her brother, but today her eyes followed David.

  Both young men, having reached eighteen years, had finally been knighted and won their spurs. It was almost all they ever thought or talked about, and Ellen could see why. She imagined the feel of numbing vibrations in her own arms as they wielded their heavy weapons, striking blows hard enough to fell lesser men. A fleeting thought crossed her mind. Could she be capable of wielding a blade now? Even if she could, she knew Stephen would never teach her. The dull edged practice swords could still inflict serious damage. The young knights’ sleeveless tunics were dampened with sweat, and strained with every thrust and parry. Ellen watched, mesmerized by the play of rippling muscle with each move they made. She didn't understand the fluttering in her own stomach, as if a colony of butterflies had taken up residence there, and were preparing to take flight.

  Ellen stared at the combatants. David had always been taller than Gordon, but now he had filled out into full manhood, which made him seem to tower over her brother even more. His black hair was wet with perspiration. His black eyes focused on her brother's every move, ready to ward off any blow and take the offensive. On most days David could best Gordon in practice, but today was not one. The now obvious quiet broke his concentration and Ellen saw him hesitate and glance about the group. His first mistake.

  Ellen gasped, realizing the consequences of her appearance. She knew when Gordon spotted the momentary lapse and used the weakness in David's defense to his own advantage. She held her hand to her mouth as her brother rotated his blade around that of his opponent, sent David's sword flying from his hand to the beaten soil of their arena. A puff of dust floated upward then settled again. Ellen sighed when Gordon glanced at her and grinned. She knew the distraction was her doing, and there was no doubt in her mind, her brother would never let her forget. Neither would David.

  Ellen cringed at the men-at-arms’ good-natured laughing and teasing, which did nothing for the young Scotsman's ego. David faced her and frowned. “What are you doing here, Lady Ellen? Go back to the solar and your needle before your father, or Lady Margaret, finds you here."

  Ellen's eyes widened at the rebuke, then filled with angry tears. “You great oaf,” she blurted out, “see if I will marry you when I am grown.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth, when she paled with the realization of what she had said. She had not meant to reveal those words before her father's men, or anyone else, for that matter. Her face flamed with embarrassment, as she spun on her heel and darted away before David could make any response to her outburst.

  Ellen disappeared into the garden beside the castle, tears flowing down her cheeks. She stopped a moment and used her sleeve to scrub the wet streaks from her face. Stupid, stupid girl. Why did I say that? I should never have said that. She dropped to her knees on the garden path, and covered her face with her hands, feeling as if her heart was about to break. She would never be able to face either of the young men again. I am too bold for my own good. Father is right; Aunt Margaret is righ
t ... I am such a wretch of a girl. Approaching voices brought Ellen out of her misery. She heard her name and resulting laughter and understood too well how foolish she appeared to soldiers and servants alike. How will I ever face anyone now?

  * * * *

  Ellen's remark forced an embarrassed David to turn away from the laughter. Her unexpected retort amused the soldiers and gave them something to gossip about, as they left the young knights alone.

  "You may be right, David. She should be busy, plying a needle, but need you have been so blunt with her? She fancies herself in love with you."

  "She told you as much?” David gave his best friend an incredulous look. When he thought about it, Gordon's words went a long way in explaining the bouts of anger flaring up between him and Ellen of late. Gordon's blue-gray eyes held neither hint of amusement, nor anger.

  "Anyone can see how she feels."

  "She's just a child,” David countered in his defense, unwilling to examine his own feelings, with Gordon staring at him. He was afraid of the truth he might find. If he were being honest with himself, she was of an age for marriage, but he did not want to think of Ellen as a young woman. Danger lay in those thoughts. It was easier to think of her as the sprite he had met that first Christmas.

  "She is not the child you think. All children grow up eventually.” Gordon looked to the direction Ellen had taken. Since before David first arrived, Ellen had taken to following Gordon around, and then both boys, often annoying Gordon with her presence. He thought David never seemed to mind. Today's admission assured Gordon he had done the right thing in speaking with his father. A marriage between David and Ellen appeared to be a good idea, after all, and would go a long way in keeping peace on either side of their English-Scots border. Not long after Gordon had found David that winter's day, carelessly hiding from the English, his father had confided in him of the clandestine friendship between the two families. He was inordinately pleased with himself for suggesting the match to the duke. He would be surprised if Hugh was not thinking about it now. Ellen could do worse than be wed to David. She could be married to Nicholas. Gordon shuddered at the thought.