Authors: Tracie Peterson
He scarcely heard her for Arianne’s eyes snapped open at the words and fixed on Richard. She noted the pride in his eyes and the pleasure that seemed to radiate from his face.
“A gift, my husband. A gift from the Lord above and from our love,” she whispered tenderly.
“A most perfect gift,” Richard replied and drew close to the bed. He placed the small boy at her side and watched as his son turned his face and rooted.
“ ’Tis hunger that causes his search,” the midwife said, realizing that Richard was not going to heed her suggestion for placing the child in his cradle.
Arianne lovingly guided the baby’s mouth to her breast, then started in surprise when he took hold and began to feed. Richard laughed at her expression, then placed a kiss upon her forehead.
“Love has a most unique way of surprising us, does it not, sweet Arianne?”
“Indeed,” she whispered sleepily.
Helena silently backed out of the room, feeling much the intruder in this very private moment. She was filled with wonder and thanksgiving. “Oh, God,” she said, closing the door to her own chamber, “what a remarkable thing You have done.”
Gone were all thoughts of Roger and Maude. Gone were the concerns of being sent to the abbey and never finding Tanny. No, Helena reasoned, a God who would create such a wonderful marvel as this could surely handle the simple reunion of two people.
Chapter 5
Roger was not happy at the news of Helena’s disappearance. His anger at the men who bore him the tidings was evident. “Imbeciles!” he shouted. “I gave you a small task and you could not even see it to completion.”
The men begged his forgiveness, pleading their innocence, but Roger silenced them with his raised fist. “Get out of my sight,” he growled. The men quickly took their leave, and only Maude’s laughter remained to prick at Roger’s conscience.
“So she outwitted them, did she?” Maude could not help but take the issue further. “What will you do, brother dear, when our sister shows herself to the queen?”
“London is a far piece from these lands,” Roger said, barely controlling his rage. “Helena could never make the journey. No doubt some other destination is on her mind.”
“Would that you should believe it!” Maude declared. “I know well our little sister. She will see to it that you are punished for her treatment.”
“Me?” Roger questioned accusingly. “Me? What of yourself, or have you forgotten your part in this matter?”
Maude shrugged indifferently and seated herself before the fire. She was mindless of the servants who rummaged about the house and completely unconcerned with Roger’s tantrum.
“Helena is gone. Let it be. If she is found, you simply tell them she has gone mad because of her mother’s death.”
“What of the lash marks upon her back?”
Maude smiled in a twisted manner. “Flesh knits and Helena will heal. I doubt it will leave overmuch of a mark. Besides, you can always plead innocence and declare it the handiwork of someone she met on the road. Better yet, go to Henry first and weep before him with a heavy brother’s heart. Tell him your precious little sister has fled and you fear for her safety.”
Roger seemed to relax a bit at this. Maude was perhaps right. Appearing before the king in a fit of brotherly concern would offer his feelings for all to see. Should Helena appear to say otherwise, it would remain his word against hers, and now that the Lady Eleanor was dead, Helena’s word would surely hold less weight.
“You fret over nothing,” Maude assured Roger. “Concern yourself instead with a more worthy matter.”
“That being?” Roger questioned, staring down at the immaculately groomed woman.
Maude toyed with the keys that hung from her girdle. “I am of a mind to marry,” she stated without fanfare.
“This is not news to me,” Roger replied. “Nor is it a worthy matter.”
Maude laughed haughtily. “ ’Tis worthy enough. I desire to better my standing. Our good neighbor to the south suddenly finds himself a widower, and I seek to remedy that matter.”
“Have you given him time to even bury his wife?” Roger asked angrily.
Maude stuck her nose in the air and refused to comment, making Roger laugh. “I see my point has hit its mark. There is time enough to concern yourself with such a thing. I must decide what is to be done in regards to Helena.”
“I thought it was decided,” said Maude with a look of reproach. “Take yourself with haste to His Majesty’s fortress and tell of our deep sorrow. Our sweet little sister has run away.”
❧
Working over her needlework while the duchess nursed her son, Helena commented without thought, “You are my first true friend.”
Arianne noted the sorrow in her voice. “There is no one else?”
“No.”
“Mayhaps it is only that your memory fails you in this matter,” the duchess suggested carefully. She was already suspicious of Helena’s artful dodge regarding her family.
Helena winced and cast her gaze to the fire. “Mayhaps.”
“Still,” Arianne continued, feeling deeply grieved for the young woman’s obvi
ous pain, “you have a friend in me, and I would like very much for you to stay on here for as long as you like. You may be my lady-in-waiting, if it pleases you.”
Helena’s heart swelled with gratitude and joy. “I would be honored.”
Arianne smiled. “We are quite isolated here, but the city is ever growing and drawing more people. The duke is seeking a charter for the town and that will enable us to have a yearly fair, instead of making the journey to Scarborough or York.
“I have no other lady-in-waiting, and Matilda has been my only friend and companion these long months. The duties of my home require much of me, and you could do much to help me.”
“I know naught what capacity I might assist you in,” Helena responded, “but I am most humbly your servant.”
“Nay,” Arianne said with a shake of her head. “Never that. You will be my friend. Perhaps you would find pleasure in helping me with the babe?”
“To be certain, Milady. I would find caring for your son an honor.” Helena bubbled the words. “I have never been around children. I was the youngest in my family.” The sudden realization of what she’d said hit Helena hard.
The intake of her breath was not lost on Arianne. “See there, a bit of your memory returns. Mayhaps it will not be long before you remember in full.”
Helena knew that Arianne was being graciously generous. She offered a weak smile and nodded at the duchess’s words.
“Perhaps the first place we should start,” Arianne continued, “is in moving you to the chamber nearest my own. Then, too, we shall need to fit you for clothing. I presume you have little else with you?”
“Nay,” Helena confirmed with a frown.
“I have fine seamstresses here and can work a stitch quite well myself. We’ll have you clothed in no time. What colors do you favor?”
Helena felt her throat tighten. To admit a favorite would be to offer up yet another proof of her memory. “I. . .I am,” she stammered, “uncertain.”
“Of course,” Arianne nodded, then appraised the girl carefully.
Helena self-consciously allowed the scrutiny. She was dressed simply, yet the velvet cloth bore the evidence of her status. She remembered having lost her head covering in the woods one night, and no one, not even Matilda, had offered her a replacement. This thought caused Helena to put her hands to her bare head, sending her needlework clattering to the floor.
“You have lovely hair,” Arianne said, noting the long blond braid that hung down Helena’s back. “My own, as you can see, is frightfully unsettling.”
Helena shook her head. “ ’Tis not true, Milady. It is a fine shade. It reminds me of late autumn sunsets when the sun is like a fiery red ball on the horizon. I find it most beautiful.”
“Mayhaps, but I am no courtly English beauty.” The baby was now sleeping, and Arianne ran a finger against his cheek. “Hair of gold and eyes of blue are what the women of England long to display. Alas, I cannot even boast the eyes, for mine are brown. Yea, you are the very image of refined womanhood, Helena.”
Helena blushed at the praise and nervously she sought to occupy herself. “May I put him in the cradle for you?” She motioned to the baby and Arianne offered him up.
“I think crimson would do you justice. Yea, and golden yellows and silvery blues to match your eyes. I’ll have the cloth brought to you and you can choose from the bounty of our storerooms.”
“You are too generous, Milady,” Helena said, fighting to keep the tears from her eyes. She put the baby in his cradle, then turned to face the duchess.
Arianne patted the bed and Helena sat down beside her. “It pleases me to do this.” Arianne put her hand upon Helena’s shoulder. “I am truthfully glad for your company. Richard is often about his work and sometimes the loneliness does not bode well for me.”
“But there are things,” Helena finally said, knowing that she couldn’t go on lying to Arianne, “things which you do not know about me.”
Arianne smiled. “When you are ready, you will speak of them. Until then, I am content to wait. Please know this, however.” Her eyes were soft and full of concern. “You are safe here, and no harm will come to you. My husband is a powerful man and good friends with King Henry. If you have fears, Helena, lay them to rest. We are happy to be your protectors with God’s help.”
Just then the door opened, and Richard entered with Devon at his side. “Am I interrupting?”
“Nay, but the babe is sleeping, so please do not address us as though you were barking orders to your men.”
Richard eyed his wife with a grin. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Your Grace.” Devon chuckled from behind, while Richard gave a sweeping bow.
“Why have you come then?” Arianne questioned in mock annoyance.
Richard straightened. “Devon has agreed to bring my brother home to England. I pray it meets with your approval.”
“It does, indeed.”
Helena glanced up to find Devon looking at her. His gaze only made her long for Tanny, and she quickly looked away to check on the baby.
“When do you leave?” Arianne was questioning.
“With the tide,” Devon answered and crossed the room to peer over Helena’s shoulder at the baby. “Has he a name?”
“Of course he has a name. Richard, have you not shared with the castle your own child’s name?”
“I have been a bit preoccupied, Milady.”
“His name is Timothy,” Helena said matter-of-factly and took her seat to begin sewing once again.
“Timothy is a good name,” Devon replied. “I’m envious of you, Richard. A fine home, a good wife, albeit that she has a sharp tongue at times, and a perfect son.”
“You’ll no doubt be following suit quite rapidly. You are now duke of Pemberton, do not forget.”
The words were no sooner out of Richard’s mouth than he regretted having said them. Arianne’s face sobered immediately. While she had no great love for the iron-fisted man who’d been her father, she still mourned his passing.
“I’m sorry, Arianne,” Richard said, taking her hand. “Forgive me.”
“ ’Tis naught to forgive. Your words are true enough. Devon, will you soon settle down and take a wife?”
“I would be most happy to do just that, should the proper young woman present herself. Mayhaps the king will arrange a marriage for me. You seemed to have benefited greatly from such an arrangement.”
Arianne smiled, the grief of the moment passing. “Indeed, I have benefited.”
Helena looked up at this exchange. She had never known arranged marriages to be anything but pure misery for those involved. How often she had heard her mother discuss the unhappy unions of her friends.
Devon noted her expression and smiled. “I do not believe our guest finds truth in this matter. Mayhaps she suffered from such an arrangement.”
“Nay, not I,” Helena answered too quickly. Three pairs of eyes turned to gaze in surprise at her, and Helena colored crimson under the close scrutiny.
Several moments passed before Richard broke the uneasy silence. “It is settled then. Devon will go to Bruges and we will expect you back by Easter.”
“By Easter, eh?” Devon turned from Helena with hands on hips. “I take it you will allow no complication upon the sea to slow down my trip.”
Richard laughed. “None. ’Twould be most unacceptable. I will have to give the matter over to God and beg His blessings on it. I would enjoy celebrating the resurrection of our Lord with my family. All of my family.”
“ ’Tis settled then,” Devon stated, and after briefly bowing to Helena, he touched his lips to Arianne’s forehead and bid them good-bye.
“Thank you, Devon.” Richard’s words were clearly heartfelt and his eyes were
filled with gratitude. “ ’Tis a good brother you have, Milady.” Richard lifted
Arianne’s slender fingers to his lips. “Goodness must be a family virtue,” he grinned before placing a lingering kiss on the back of her hand. Helena enjoyed the tender exchange.
Timothy took that moment to let loose a cry, causing Arianne to chuckle. “Let us hope ’tis a virtue that extends to the generations.”
Chapter 6
Can it not wait?” Arianne questioned, following Richard into their bedchamber.
Helena had been caring for Timothy and got up to leave, but Richard waved her back down. “You needn’t go.”
“Nay,” Arianne replied sarcastically, “because the duke is going instead.” Helena raised questioning eyes. She’d never been in the middle of one of Arianne and Richard’s squabbles, but in a castle there were few secrets.
“You would like for me to tell the king it is an inconvenient time to do his bidding?” Richard questioned with a smirking grin.
Arianne rolled her eyes. “ ’Tis unfair. Henry knows you have a new son. ’Tis not fitting to draw you away just now.”
“Bah!” Richard said, slapping a leather tunic on top of the clothes and slamming down the lid. “The matters of state wait not for one such as Timothy. He is but one small child in the eyes of his king. Perhaps the king has need of me in ways that will affect many such as Timothy.”
Helena tried to occupy herself with her needlework. It was hopelessly snagged, however, and she could only pull at the threads in a desperate attempt to free them.
“I will miss you.”
Helena thought Arianne sounded close to tears. She silently wished she could slip from the room, but the duke had already instructed her to stay.
Without considering Helena’s presence, Richard crossed to Arianne and pulled her in his arms. “My heart will long for you every moment of my day. Each beat will be for you alone and each breath I breathe will whisper your name.” He tilted her tearful face to his and gazed deeply into her eyes. His lips were only inches from hers, the warmth of her breath was upon his face, and her tears now fell against his fingers. “Ah, sweet Arianne.” His words were nearly a moan. Slowly, with all the longing and passion that had followed him through the final months of Arianne’s confinement, Richard kissed her. Arianne returned the kiss, also uncaring that Helena sat only a few feet away.
“Come below and see me off. Helena, bring Timothy and come, too.”
Helena nodded and quickly retrieved the baby, grateful to be done with the emotional farewell scene.
In the bailey, Richard’s men were restless to be on their way. They waited patiently while final instructions were issued and additional precautions were made against strangers approaching the castle. Hadn’t it been an overtrust of this peaceful existence, Richard had told them that had caused Arianne to fall into danger when Tancred had stormed the castle?
Helena was rosy-cheeked and filled with emotion at the love she watched transpire between Arianne and her husband.
Such love only comes to a person once,
she thought as Richard bent from his horse to offer Arianne a final kiss. It was more than she could bear, and she looked away.
Clutching Timothy tightly to her bosom, Helena could not fill the ache that grew there. The most immense ocean could not fill the void that left its mark so deeply engraved upon her heart.
“Have courage, Wife,” Richard was calling, causing Helena to lift her head again. “When I return, I will bring your brother and mine as well. God will it to be so!”
“Aye,” Arianne said with an earnest face. “God will it to be so!”
“You will have all that you need. Seek out Sir Dwayne in any matter that you cannot resolve.” Richard’s words were said in the same authoritative manner he used with his men, and Helena knew all moments of tenderness between duke and duchess had passed.
“God go with you, Richard,” Arianne said in parting.
“And with you, Milady.”
The little band watched until all riders had passed through the gatehouse and into the village. Arianne brushed away tears and noted that Helena seemed close to them herself.
“We must surely be a sight,” she contended, and Helena nodded in agreement. “Come,” Arianne said, taking Timothy into her arms, “let us partake of something warm to fill the chill within.” But Helena knew that no refreshment would find its mark and ease what ailed them.
They climbed the stone steps to the great hall, and Arianne motioned Matilda to her side.
“We seek refreshment against the dampness and chill. Would you bring it to my solar?” Arianne requested.
“Of course, Milady,” Matilda said with the slightest nod.
Arianne noted two servants squabbling in the corner of the room and, without thought, handed Timothy to Helena and motioned her to the stairs. “Wait for me in my chamber,” she bade. “I will see to this matter.”
Helena was grateful for the reprieve. She lovingly took Timothy in hand and carefully made her way upstairs. Noting Timothy’s growing agitation, Helena realized it had been some time since he’d received a changing.
Placing the babe in his cradle, Helena drew water from the ever-filled hearth pot. She tested it to make certain it was neither too hot nor too cold, then poured it into a basin and added rose oil. Her final act before retrieving the squalling Timothy was to pull out new swaddling and a fine linen drying cloth from a nearby chest. This
was a procedure she repeated every three hours during the day.
Without giving thought to what she was doing, Helena began to sing a song of love. It was the first time she’d lifted her voice in song since her mother had died. Now, for a reason beyond her understanding, Helena not only desired to sing, she found that her heart demanded she do so.
The lyrical notes filled the room and joined with Timothy’s cries, which immediately ceased.
“Come see, come see the tiny babe,” Helena sang. “Lullay, lullay, the tiny babe. Before you now, this blessed day, Lullay, lullay, the tiny babe.” It was a song from her childhood in celebration of the Christ Mass.
The silky soprano tones seemed to mesmerize Timothy as Helena unwound his swaddling bands and gently placed him in the bath. She felt her heart swell for the child whom she’d come to love as dearly as her own.
The aching that had so totally held her captive only moments before seemed somehow eased in this simple task and song. Helena washed the tiny infant, then dried him with the linen cloth and rubbed more rose oil onto his body. She carefully rewrapped him in the swaddling bands, for it was well known that until the babe was old enough to sit, this would prevent his limbs from twisting. Still, she couldn’t help but like it best when Timothy was free of the binding and his soft baby fingers would wave upward to her face.
“You must await your mother,” she whispered to the expectant child who even now rooted against her for satisfaction. Timothy knew full well this routine, and his mother’s breast always followed his bath.
Arianne entered the room none too early. “I see you have already bathed him.”
“Aye,” Helena said with a warm smile. “ ’Tis your face he cries for now.”
Arianne chuckled softly as she took the baby. “Mayhaps not so much my
face, eh?” She quickly settled down to the task at hand and watched as Helena pulled back the woolen wall-hanging that hid the garderobe door.
“ ’Tis certain with all the rose water we dispose of here,” Helena mused, “you surely have the most fragrant latrine in all the castle.” She retrieved the small basin of water and emptied it into the dark hole.
“No doubt,” Arianne said with a laugh. “ ’Twould be a finer service still to bathe the entire castle in such sweetness.”
Helena replaced the basin and dropped the cloth back into place. Just then Matilda entered the room with a tray containing two steaming cups and thick slices of warm bread.
“Ah,” Arianne whispered, “our refreshment.”
Timothy was nearly asleep at her breast, and Helena quickly prepared his cradle before taking the offered mug from Matilda.
“Join us,” Arianne said, placing Timothy in his bed.
“I cannot, Milady,” Matilda responded. “There is much that needs my care.”
Arianne nodded and took the tray. “Thank you, Matilda.” She waited until Matilda had closed the door behind her, then turned conspiratorially to Helena. “She thinks I know naught of her birthday. ’Tis but two days from now and I have a fine warm surcoat and tunic for her gift.”
“She will be pleased,” Helena said, taking the chair beside Arianne’s.
“I think so.” Arianne put the tray on the table beside her chair and offered Helena a slice of bread. They shared the silence of the room in nibbled bites and satisfying drink.
Helena was the first to turn from their feast. She picked up her sewing, a small embroidered gown that Timothy would wear when he outgrew swaddling.
“You have a most unusual stitch there,” Arianne said, leaning over to note the piece.
“My mother taught me this,” Helena said proudly. “When I sat at her knee and listened to gentle instruction, I thought there surely must be no other place so perfect.”
Arianne said nothing of Helena’s pleasant memory. “My own mother died when I was young,” she noted instead. “I was taught to sew at the convent where my father sent me. It was a good life, but none that I would have called perfect.”
Helena felt a sadness wash over her. “The loss of a mother is not one easily borne by the child, at any age.”
“Nay,” agreed Arianne. “ ’Tis surely not.”
Days later, Matilda was indeed proud to show off her new gift. She embarrassed at the fanfare Arianne made of her day, and when the duchess suggested Matilda take a quiet day of repose, the woman could only gasp.
“But my duties. . . ,” Matilda began to protest.
“Can wait,” Arianne stated firmly. Just then the lyrical notes of Helena’s nursery songs filtered down to reach their ears. Casting a glance at the stairway, Arianne shook her head. “ ’Tis a voice like no other. Oft I have heard her sing long into the night, and it comforts me greatly in Richard’s absence.”
“Aye,” Matilda agreed. “Many say she is instructed by the angels.”
❧
In the solar, Helena composed a new love song for her beloved. She hummed the notes of the melody, picking and choosing each carefully, discarding those
whose tones were too harsh or dour. The music always came first—notes of
melodies that raced inside her head and would scarce let her rest before she’d fully composed them into song.
Timothy stared up with watchful blue eyes from his cradle. So long as Helena sang, it mattered little to him what the meaning of the words were.
“If my beloved were a king,” Helena put to the melody she’d just completed. She tested the words against the notes and decided they worked well. It was to be the song she’d promised Tanny when Roger’s whip had lain her ill.
“If my beloved were a king,” she whispered and sighed. “Oh, Tanny, you are a king. King of my heart.” Dropping to her knees, Helena prayed, “Most Holy Father, You alone know where my beloved lays his wearied head. You alone see his sorrows and his needs. Go with him and send my love along. I miss him so.” She felt the wetness upon her cheeks. How long would it be? How long before she saw him again?
Several nights later, Helena anxiously paced her room. There was such a restless spirit within her. She had spent hours in the castle chapel listening to the gentle words of Father Gies as he prayed for her to have the peace of God. Each morning during services, she had prayed fervently for such a peace to ease her longings, and of yet, no peace had come.
Without thought, Helena lifted her voice in a church song of Scripture. The Latin words were heavy compared to the Anglo-French she more often used for song, but the words encouraged her heart.
“Sine fide impossible est placere Deo,”
she sang in earnest.
Without faith it is impossible to please God.
“Oh Father,” she whispered, “my faith comes so hard these dark lonely nights. I listen to sounds of life within the castle and know that no life stirs within my own walls. Nay, only the empty ramblings of a faithless woman. Yet, without faith, I cannot please Thee.”
“Helena?” Arianne’s soft voice called from outside her door. Wiping her tears with the back of her linen robe, Helena opened the door to her duchess.
“I heard you singing,” Arianne said simply. “I am about to nurse Timothy. Come sing for me.”
Helena followed her into the hall, grateful for the reprieve from her lonely walls. Arianne settled down on the bed and took Timothy to her side. “It seems so dark sometimes,” she said faintly as Helena took a seat on the end of the mammoth bed. The high wooden canopy created shadows against the dying firelight’s glow.
“Aye,” Helena whispered. “Quite dark.”
Arianne reached out her hand to Helena. “Tell me of your home. Tell me of the family you have left behind.”
Helena’s fingers had barely touched Arianne’s hand, but the words spoken caused her to jerk back as if stung. “I cannot.”
Arianne pulled Timothy closer and sighed. “I do not hold you in contempt for your choice. I feel strongly that you remember full well your past and all that remains there for you.”
“I cannot,” Helena replied again, her voice a sob.
“Helena, I will not judge you harshly.”
“I know,” the sorrow-filled young woman replied. “I judge myself and the lack of faith within me.”
“Then judge no more,” Arianne replied. “ ’Tis God’s job and His alone.”
Helena lifted her eyes to meet Arianne’s. “I remember it all,” she admitted, “but ’tis nothing worth sharing with gentlefolk.” Then more adamantly, Helena continued. “I love this life. Please do not send me away.”
“Send you away?” Arianne gasped. “I would rather lose my arm than lose your friendship. You are welcomed here for all time, Helena. Know that here and now.”
“Thank you, Milady.” Helena felt a world of weight eased off her shoulders. “My love of God is deep, and for all these many years, I have felt its return in only the love of my mother. Now, I see differently. I see His love in you.”
“ ’Tis but a reflection of that which shines in you, Helena. He has not forsaken you. Be at peace and know He cares.”