Authors: Emily Murdoch
The day that Ælfgard, Hilda, Catheryn, and their retinue left for the royal court was one in which the first heavy rain that summer decided to fall. Selwyn had watched them leave, and although he had wanted to say a personal goodbye to Catheryn, he was aware that their growing intimacy had started to be noticed by the rest of the household. His workload was increasing every day that harvest came nearer, and yet he had put more and more aside in order to spend more time with her.
The temptation to ask his lord Ælfgard if he could accompany him and his family to the royal court was very strong, but Selwyn knew that he would never be allowed. Only two of the thanes were going, and a mere steward would not have the required prestige to impress the king.
That very evening, without the gaze of Ælfgard to keep them in order, the three thanes that Ælfgard had left behind grew progressively more and more in their cups, until Deorwine stumbled across the room and pushed Selwyn against a wall. Already upset that he had not been one of his lord’s chosen to accompany the family to the royal court, he finally had his chance to intimidate the steward.
“What do you talk to my lady Catheryn about?” He slurred, his putrid breath almost asphyxiating Selwyn. “Why do you spend so much time with her of late?”
“I cannot help it if my lady Catheryn enjoys my company,” Selwyn replied calmly. “Perhaps she prefers to spend her days with a man that can not only stand his ale, but knows when to stop drinking it!”
He pushed back towards Deorwine, who stumbled in his drunken state and almost fell to the floor. Before he or any of the other thanes could do anything in response, Selwyn stormed out of the Great Hall and into the night air.
Selwyn took a deep breath, and felt his heart beat heavily and painfully against his chest.
It had been an evening like this when he had first approached Catheryn. It was only now she had gone that he realised just how much he had learned to value her company, even in the last few weeks. It felt ridiculous, but he felt it all the same. He looked for her opinion, and longed to hear her laugh, and wanted to see her roll her eyes when he mocked her.
Yet that beautiful thing was gone to entertain others, and provide a light at another man’s table. Selwyn felt the lack of her keenly. She seemed to bring the only intelligent conversation to a house in which the principal inhabitants were obsessed with another family they had nothing in common with.
And as much as Selwyn would have loved to deny it, he could not help but admit that Catheryn’s beauty was starting to play heavily on his mind. Her slender and delicate form, yet full of strength; the way she rolled her tongue when she mocked someone; the shine of the sun on her lips when she licked them, ready to speak. Somehow he had managed to memorise so much of her in such a short amount of time. Why?
Catheryn was bored. The royal court was not created for the entertainment of the young, and even her parents were starting to see that their idea of a royal court was not exactly true to the mark. King Edward’s piety was certainly to be admired, but it did garner a particularly sombre mood. There was more attendance of chapel than Catheryn was used to, and all of her jewels that she had been instructed to bring with her had remained in her casket, untouched and unworn. None of the other ladies at the court wore such jewellery, to her and her mother’s astonishment, and they had not wanted to stand out for such a decadent and potentially censorious reason.
Catheryn was irritated with the women of the court. Hoping to find friends there, she had discovered to her dismay that none were anywhere near her own age, and in fact many of them were much older than her mother. There was no gossip, or laughing, or riddles spoken over a fire. The solemnity of every situation was beginning to weigh heavily on her, and she missed talking to Selwyn.
There, she had admitted it. She missed him. Not for himself, so much as the inexplicable happiness that she felt whenever she was with him. Selwyn knew exactly how to make her laugh, and he did not seem to mind when she was almost rude, when society demanded that she say one thing, and she couldn’t bid her tongue be silent. Although he frequently tried to bring up the topic of ‘her romancer’, his heart did not seem to be in it. It appeared that the discovery of who was writing her the letters was not something that he wanted as much as she did. But then, half of the fun is not knowing, Catheryn supposed.
Getting to know Selwyn, on the other hand, was riveting. The more she learned about him, the more he left the caricature of him as a steward that she had created for him, and the more he become an actual person. A person that she, Catheryn, missed.
Who would have thought it.
But Catheryn was swiftly brought out of her reveries by a nudge that came from her left hand side.
“Catheryn!” Her mother hissed, trying to maintain her smile. “The young man asked you a question.”
Catheryn blinked, and remembered that she was still sitting at the king’s table after the feast that evening – if you could call two courses of dry food a feast. Before here stood a pale young man, probably not much older than she was herself, and he was shaking.
“I am sorry, my lord,” she said, remembering her manners. “I did not quite catch what you said.”
The young man blushed, and Catheryn could not help but colour as well. Not being able to hear him seemed a piteous excuse when the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire, and a slow strain of music being forced out of a lute by a depressed looking musician in one corner.
“I merely enquired,” said the youth, “whether you would care to dance.”
Catheryn shut her eyes. Not long ago this would have been the epitome of any dream she could have imagined occurring at the royal court. Now, she had to push down images of Selwyn as she rose with a forced smile.
“It would be my honour, my lord.”
A few steps took her around the tables and to the waiting hands of the man whose name Catheryn had never quite remembered. A few other couples joined them, but none looked particularly happy. The king frowned slightly, and the queen whispered something in his ear. He nodded slowly, and then waved a hand carelessly, returning to his conversation with the bishop.
Queen Emma caught Catheryn’s eye.
It was Catheryn that looked away.
It seemed like the three days at the royal court would never end. Eorwine was the one that caught the brunt of Catheryn’s nerves, attending on her almost constantly, but no one could reason with Catheryn about why it was so important to be there.
Catheryn lost count of how many times she asked her parents when they would be departing, and grew tired of their tutting and irritation that she was not enjoying herself.
“This is a great honour!” Her mother would hiss, smiling around at the gaggle of ladies that passed them, “And you may never get another chance!”
“Chance to what?” Catheryn muttered, returning the bow of the young man that she had danced with the night before, but not rising from her seat to talk to him. “Parade up and down in the finery I haven’t yet worn for no one to see, or pray for another hour on my knees in the cold chapel? Or perhaps it is to wait for father to speak to the king, an event I might add that we’ve been waiting years for anyway – we may as well do it in the comfort of our own home!”
Hilda looked scandalised, and Catheryn, without waiting for a reply, rolled her eyes and stomped away.
There was little to occupy a young woman here – it was a place created around the whims of an old man, and contained little to entertain someone with an active and inquisitive mind.
Eventually Ælfgard himself had to admit that it was fruitless waiting at the royal court for a summons that would probably never come.
“Let us turn homewards,” he said softly, with sadness in his voice on the morning of the Sabbath. “We shall be receiving no special treatment here. Let us go home.”
Catheryn was relieved. Within hours after the morning service during which Catheryn heard even more Latin, and was convinced that she had finally caught her first cold during the summer, they were ready, and she encouraged it to speed as quickly as it could towards her home. Inexplicably, she found herself growing nervous. The intimacy that had been growing between her and Selwyn had been…wonderful. Could three short days away from him destroy that friendship? Would he fall back into the role of servant? And would she let him?
Catheryn realised that she was beginning to depend on Selwyn; for his clever mind, and his smile. But then, she reminded herself, he was only a steward. Her real romancer, if that’s what he wanted to call it, was the one leaving the notes. He was the one that she should be eager to return to.
Catheryn was so preoccupied thinking on Selwyn, and trying to dwell more on the love notes, that she almost didn’t recognise the woodland that she found herself surrounded by.
“Almost there!” cried Cuthbert, one of the thanes that had attended them at the royal court. He raced past her, beaming at her. The trip to the royal court had clearly not been as entertaining as the thanes had hoped for either. “Within moments you shall be home, my lady.”
Hilda, who had not enjoyed the journey at all and was glad to think of resting her aching bones, smiled broadly at the man. Catheryn, on the other hand, pushed her horse faster, overtaking her parents.
“It’ll still be there!” joked Cuthbert, but Catheryn did not listen. All she wanted to do was see Selwyn. She had to.
And there he was. Lounging outside in the very field that she loved lying in, their childhood fortress, was Selwyn with his eyes shut, basking in the sunlight that was pouring down to quicken the grain.
“Selwyn?”
Catheryn’s cry was joyful, and she forced her exhausted horse towards him.
Selwyn had been indulging in a rather fanciful notion that Catheryn had accidently got caught in the rain. Her dress clung to her body, and her veil had slipped off her golden hair. She was whispering his name…and then she was shouting it. And her voice was clear, clearer than he ever could have imagined, surely?
“Selwyn!”
Selwyn’s eyes opened, and he saw a horse barrelling towards him. With a yell, he tried to raise himself quickly enough to avoid the stamping hooves, but with a high level of skill, the rider pulled the horse to a halt just before his feet were trampled. The sunlight dazzled his eyes, but eventually he made out a slender form with waves of blonde hair cascading out of a veil that had been dismantled in the wind.
“Catheryn?”
She jumped down from her horse, and Selwyn quickly stood. The two of them remained there, just out of reach, smiling awkwardly. There was an incredibly formal way in which the daughter of a house should greet a steward, but Selwyn was hoping beyond hope that she would not resort to it.
“Selwyn?” Catheryn repeated.
Catheryn, on the other hand, had no idea what to do with herself. Everything about her felt clumsy, and she didn’t know what to do with her hands. She could feel that her veil had slipped down to lie around her shoulders, and she was sure that her mother would be astounded that her hair was visible for anyone to see.
But not just anyone. Selwyn. His tunic was open near his throat, and she could see the dark brown skin of a man that worked outside from when the sun greeted him to when it fell back into the earth. His arms were strong, and there seemed to be something…something about him that made her heart quicken. Catheryn could feel it, pounding against her very bones.
Selwyn watched her breath shorten, and a blush blossom across her face. He could feel it – the heat emanating from her, and it stirred in him something that he had never felt before. Selwyn was accustomed to looking at Catheryn, she had always been part of the household, part of the very fabric of the family. Usually when he looked at her, he had just seen a young woman that had only recently stopped being a child. She was an unknown, a mystery, but somehow not one worth exploring. But now…
Catheryn recovered first.
“How have you been, Selwyn?” She managed to speak out.
But Selwyn could not answer. Something was taking over his body, and he wasn’t sure if he could fight it off. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
Selwyn took a step forward. He reached out an arm. The gap between them was closing.
“Catheryn…”
Neither of them knew what would have happened at that moment if her parents had not caught them up, panting at the effort but smiling at the welcoming scene.
“Selwyn!” Ælfgard greeted his steward warmly.
Ælfgard’s joy at seeing a familiar face immediately caused Selwyn to drop his arm. Catheryn took a step back, but she kept her eyes on Selwyn, and now he could feel redness covering his own cheeks.
“It is good to see you home safely, my lord,” he said stiffly, helplessly embarrassed and hoping beyond hope that neither his lord nor lady guessed what he was just about to do to their daughter. “And my lady – how did you fare the journey?”
Hilda’s hatred of travelling was well-known, but she tried to smile even through her weariness. “The best part of the journey is the arrival, Selwyn. Are my ladies here?”
“Just inside, my lady. Come, I shall give you my arm.”
Selwyn strode forward and helped Hilda dismount from her horse, which seemed glad to see its unruly passenger go. Without another look at Catheryn, he turned and escorted Hilda back towards her home.
Ælfgard gave a knowing look at Catheryn. “Good of you to ride ahead,” he said gruffly, eyes up to the sky, and not dismounting from his horse. “Eager to be home?”
Catheryn did not know where to look. She could feel some of what her father implied, but in many ways she hoped that he would keep his inferences to himself.
“Familiarity is comforting, father,” Catheryn said eventually.
“Indeed,” Ælfgard nodded, dropping to the ground deftly. “You are probably right.”
He began to walk towards the stables, taking his and his wife’s horse with him – but he continued to speak, and although he was facing away from his daughter, Catheryn could hear him clearly.
“Not too much familiarity, mind.”
Selwyn dreaded the thought of that evening meal, but thankfully the three thanes that had remained were still suffering from the ale and wine they had consumed the night before, and so it was rather a quieter meal. He was also able to completely ignore the beautiful woman sitting just four people away from him. Almost.
Catheryn however could barely stand it. She had to talk to him.
“Selwyn?”
Her voice carried further than she was expecting, and heads that she had not intended to turn around to face her looked around for the source of the noise. Luckily, the steward was one of them.
“I need to speak to you about a private matter,” she said coolly, fixing her eyes away from him and trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. “Will you give me a moment of your time?”
Selwyn’s heart clenched. How could she speak so distantly to him? Had she completely forgotten their growing closeness? Evidently she had effectively removed him from her life in just a matter of days – but he was not going to force his company on her if she did not want it.
“I am sure that whatever business you have with me can wait until morning, my lady,” he said, turning to his neighbour and striking up a conversation about the first thing that came into his head – the shearing of the sheep that had been late that year.
But Catheryn was not used to taking no for an answer. She stood, and her father eyed her warily.
“It cannot wait,” she said, and swept out of the room.
All eyes that were not already staring in his direction now turned to Selwyn. He looked at Ælfgard with almost panic, but his lord shook his head and smiled. He was not going to protect anyone from his daughter.
“My lord,” Selwyn muttered, hastily getting up and following the path the impetuous woman had just taken.
He had not seen exactly where she had gone, but he knew what he wanted to do and say to her. But he had to remember, at all costs, that Catheryn was the daughter of the house, and he was only the steward. He must remember that. He had to try to remember that.
“Selwyn!”
He hadn’t noticed the waiting figure in the shadowy darkness, but as soon as it spoke he knew her.
“Catheryn.”
She came towards him, and with a strength that surprised him, pushed him so forcefully that he fell hard into the wall. His left shoulder jolted painfully, and his head buzzed from the impact.
Catheryn was angry.
“How could you make me look so ridiculous in front of the entire household?” She spat at him as Selwyn put his hands out before him to protect himself. She came towards him furiously. “I thought we were…”
Her voice trailed off, and Selwyn laughed wryly, but left his hands partially outstretched.
“Exactly,” he said. “I don’t know what we are. I didn’t know what to expect when you returned.”
Catheryn sniffed haughtily. “Neither did I, but I wasn’t expecting that.”
Selwyn raised his eyes to the heavens, and sighed. He didn’t know where he stood with Catheryn, but wherever he was, he hated it. “As soon as we’ve discovered the identity of your romancer, we can just go back to how things were before. It’s much easier being your steward than…whatever this is.”
Catheryn felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Her jaw fell open.
“I understand,” she said finally. “I’ll be relieved to finally find out who this man is. He evidently has soul, and wisdom. I think I may be falling in love with him anyway.”
Now it was Selwyn’s turn to be astonished. “You think you’re falling in love with him? You’ve never met him!”
“His words speak for themselves,” Catheryn shot back. “He clearly adores me, and that is good enough for me.”
Selwyn spluttered. “Good enough for you?” He took a step forward, and Catheryn was once again reminded of just how...
male
he was. “Good enough for you?”
By this point, there were only inches between Selwyn and Catheryn. Catheryn tried to look away from his deep piercing eyes, but it was as if they were drawn back there every time she attempted to look away. There was something in them, something dark and passionate and wonderful.
“The thing is, Catheryn,” Selwyn said quietly, and Catheryn had to lean slightly closer to him to hear what he was saying, “that you don’t deserve anyone.”
“What? How dare you – ”
“You misunderstand me,” he said, stopping her from continuing. “It is not that you do not deserve to be happy. It is that no one alive has yet earned the privilege and honour of being with you. You are a diamond amongst dirt, and when you do find someone…”
Selwyn’s right hand reached up, slightly trembling, to push a wayward wisp of hair back under Catheryn’s veil. Where his skin touched hers, they both felt a tingle and a slight burn.
“…he will lack nothing. At this very moment, he lacks but thee.”
Catheryn put a hand out towards him, but it was intercepted by one of Selwyn’s own. It pressed something cold into her warm palm, and then he was gone.
She looked around her as if she had imagined it. But no, within her hand was the proof that he had been there, that he had said those heady, wonderful things. It was a piece of parchment. Catheryn unfolded it, and read the words that caused a thrill to chase down her spine and into her very toes.