Lord Of Lyonsbridge

Well, older he may be, and wise with horses, mayhap. After all, it was his position in life. But it was an absurd notion that a Saxon servant, even a freeholding one, could think of himself as equal to a Wakelin.

He glanced briefly at the knot she’d tied, then nodded, his face impassive, and gestured toward the house. “We’d best knock, milady. I daresay they’ll be bashful enough about opening to us.”

Ellen thought back to her mother’s obligatory tenant visits. If memory served, when Ellen and her mother had arrived, the families were always awaiting them outside their doors, bowing and scraping. “Then please announce me, Master Brand,” she said.

Connor took two long steps to the thatched door and knocked, rattling the flimsy structure. After a moment, it opened and John Cooper peered shyly out, his eyes wide.

“Lady Ellen has come to see to the welfare of your mother,” Connor told the boy.

“Sarah said she was to come, but I misbelieved her.”

“Well, she’s here, so let us in, lad,” Connor said with a smile. “Your mother is abed?”

John nodded. “Sarah’s with her.” He pulled the door wide to allow them to enter.

Ellen resisted the impulse to sweep up her skirts so they’d not be soiled as she moved into the house, but to her amazement, the interior of the home appeared to be immaculate. The dirt floor was raked and free of debris. The wooden table in the center of the room was spotless. Against the far wall a cupboard held neatly stacked dishes. The odor of rich pork stew wafted from a pot that bubbled over the fireplace. The girl Sarah sat in a small chair next to a cot in the corner of the room. She stood up quickly and made a little curtsy.

Ellen smiled at her, then shifted her gaze to the bed, where a thin, gray-haired woman was struggling to sit up. “Please be at rest, Mistress Cooper,” Ellen said quickly. “I’ve not come to put you to exertion.”

The woman continued her efforts for another moment, then evidently realized that her frail body would not respond. She collapsed back against the straw mattress. “I’m sorry, milady,” she said faintly.

For the first time in many months, Ellen had a wave of longing for her mother. She’d had it often in the years after her death, but the past couple of years at court had been so full and exciting that the pain of her absence had subsided. Her mother would have. known what to do for the cooper’s widow. She would have had herbs for her body, and words for her spirit with exactly the right combination of encouragement and incitement.

Ellen sighed and walked across the room toward the woman. “I’ve come to see how you’re faring, Mistress Cooper, not to disturb your rest.”

“May God bless you for such kindness, milady. My daughter said you treated her gently yesternoon,” the woman said, her watery smile echoing the one Sarah herself had given Ellen yesterday as she’d clutched her hand in gratitude.

“You have two fine children,” Ellen said.

“Thank you, milady. But my blessings are great. I have four.”

At the direction of the woman’s fond gaze, Ellen turned and for the first time noticed two smaller children, scarcely five years of age, standing stiffly in the dark corner opposite, still as statues, their hands tightly joined. They had identical dresses and cropped blond hair, and Ellen couldn’t tell if they were lads or girls.

She moved toward them. Neither one moved. “What are your names?” Ellen asked.

“They’re Abel and Karyn,” John supplied, still standing near the door. “They were the names my father had picked before he—” he broke off, then started in again. “Abel if it be male and Karyn for a lass. As it turned out, there was one of each.”

“Good morrow, Abel and Karyn,” Ellen greeted them with a smile. The two smaller children remained frozen.

“Born a month after their father’s death,” Connor added, which dimmed Ellen’s smile.

“As I say, milady, I’ve been greatly blessed,” the woman behind her said, but as she ended the sentence, she broke into a paroxysm of coughing.

‘Ellen turned back to her in alarm. The coughs seemed to rattle every part of the woman’s fragile -body. Sarah stopped staring at Ellen and dropped to her mother’s side, reaching for a rag that lay behind her and bringing it up to her mother’s mouth so she could cough into it.

“What has been done for her?” Ellen asked.

“’Tis the cold weather, milady,” Sarah said, looking up apologetically. “If the day is fine, we’ll take her into the sun later and she’ll be some better.”

“She should have a tonic for that cough.”

“Aye; milady,” Sarah agreed, but offered nothing further. Her mother’s body continued to be wracked with silent spasms.

“I suspect the family has not wanted to ask about medicine because they have not the coin to purchase any,” Connor explained.

“’Tis worse these three days past,” John said. “I would’ve told you if it kept up another day or two, Master Brand.”

Connor nodded, evidently finding nothing rare in the fact that a stable master would be the one the boy would come to in distress. The man had an air of selfconfidence and authority that went beyond his post, Ellen thought once again.

“She must have medicine. I’ll ask Sir William to see to it.” She walked to the bed and, after a moment’s hesitation, reached over to put her hand on the widow’s shoulder. The woman’s lips had turned white and tears leaked from each closed eye, but the spell appeared to be passing.

Sarah looked up from her kneeling position, the same grateful smile on her face. “Thank you, milady.”

John looked doubtful. “Sir William will like not being bothered with such a matter, milady.”

“Sir William will like what I tell him to like,” Ellen said. There were several long moments of silence as the widow’s coughs continued to subside, turning into relaxed, deep breaths.

“You’ve calmed her, milady,” Sarah said, awe in her voice.

Rather self-consciously, Ellen withdrew her hand from the woman’s shoulder. She looked around the cottage, suddenly feeling out of place. “I believe she wore herself to sleep with her coughing, child.”

Sarah shook her head. “Nay, often when she starts in like that it lasts nigh on forever. ‘Twas you who calmed her.”

“The girl’s right.” Connor had walked over to crouch beside the twins and put his arms around them. “I’ve seen the spells last an hour or more with nothing to stop them.”

“Look, she’s sleeping,” John added, his tone as awed as his sister. It was true. The widow’s breast rose and fell in the even breathing of slumber.

Ellen gave a small, uncomfortable laugh. “Then mayhap we should leave her to rest.”

Connor stood, lifting a twin in each arm. The two children had not made a sound since she and Connor had entered the cottage, but secure in the horse master’s long arms, they each ventured a smile. There was an unfamiliar melting sensation inside Ellen’s chest. She walked over to the trio and asked softly, “Which one is Karyn and which is Abel? Will you tell me your names now?”

The child in Connor’s right arm ducked his head and said in an almost inaudible voice, “Abel.” Then he unfurled a tiny arm from where it was clasped against Connor’s side and pointed around the horse master’s broad chest to his sister. “Karyn,” he said.

The little girl would not look at Ellen. “Mayhap Karyn will tell me her name herself,” she suggested.

“Karyn will hear you, milady, but she doesn’t speak,” Connor told her.

“She was struck dumb,” John explained. “But my brother talks for both of them.”

The girl lay her head on Connor’s shoulder and at last looked up at Ellen. Her eyes were light crystal blue, her features tiny and perfect. Ellen was smitten. Without thinking, she reached for her, but Karyn clung to Connor’s shoulder. “What do you mean, struck dumb?” Ellen asked, dropping her arms and stepping back.

She’d addressed the question to John, but the boy merely exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Sarah and remained silent.

“Me mum says ‘twas a sign from God, to make her special like,” Sarah said. She made the sign of the cross and her brother did likewise.

Ellen looked back at the child. With her blond curls wreathing her face, she looked like one of the cherubs painted on the ceilings of the grand churches back home. “Mayhap your mother is right,” she said.

Connor gave each of the children a final squeeze and set them down. “Are you ready to go, milady?” he asked.