The Bride’s Portion
Susan Paul
Contents
Dedicated with love and thanks to Margot Anne Hoyt. A lot of years have passed since we were eleven, Margot, but during all of them you’ve been a constant source of encouragement and faith. I wouldn’t be writing today if it weren’t for you. I’m so glad that out of all the people in this world, I’m the one who’s able to call you my best friend.
Chapter One
England, early Fall—1405
The chamber was both cold and dark, save for one greasy candle that sat glowing on a small table, putting more smoke than light into the damp air.
“They might at least have lit the fireplace,” Lillis said, rubbing her arms in a vain effort to warm herself. “Those wretched boys! Putting us in this filthy room as though we were criminals. I suppose they thought we might escape from someplace clean.”
She paced the dark room, careful not to stub her toe on one of the many pieces of furniture there. It must have been a bedchamber once, for there was a large fireplace on one side of the room and a locked balcony and windows on the other. Now it appeared to be used as a storing place for unused furniture. Some of the pieces were covered to keep the dust off and some were left as they were. When Lillis and her maid had first been shoved inside, they had been horrified at the number of rats that ran to their hiding places and at the thick dust that pervaded the room. But they were grateful at least to have chairs to sit in and a table to rest their hands on. There was even an old, lumpy bed on which they could sleep if they needed to, though the rats had done a good job of removing a great many of the mattress feathers.
How many hours had they been locked in here, now? she wondered, rubbing her hands harder to keep from shivering. It had been early morn when those horrid twins had so suddenly leapt out of the woods at them, aiming readied crossbows at the heads of her two guards. Her first reaction had been to scold them as thoughtless rascals who should be greatly punished for playing such frightening tricks on innocent travelers, but when she’d seen that they were serious about what they were doing, the anger had died on her lips. She had been a little afraid of them then, for they certainly must have been demented to have done such a thing in earnest.
By the time they had dragged Lillis and her companion to the castle they were now imprisoned in, however, she had reverted to her original conclusion. The wretched creatures were far from insane. Oh, no, they were worse than that. They saw themselves as righteous crusaders who had captured an enemy. When Lillis made the mistake of informing them that they were being perfectly foolish, that she was Lillis of Wellewyn and that Wellewyn had no fight with them or anyone else, they had simply become happier about what they’d done.
Rotten little beasts.
The worst part of this nightmare was that she didn’t even know where she was. It had been years since Lillis had been home, and she didn’t recognize either the area they had ridden through or the castle she’d been taken to. The twins had refused to tell her and hadn’t let her guards speak, so neither Lillis nor her companion had the slightest idea where they were, or how far away Wellewyn was.
And they’d not had a chance to see much of the castle to which they’d been brought, either. She and Edyth had barely dismounted before the twins had separated them from their guards and had dragged them through the castle and up several flights of stairs to an obviously unused portion of the household.
“You cannot mean to keep us in here!” she’d protested after they’d been shoved inside the filthy room. “I demand to see the lord of this castle!”
“Our brother isn’t home,” one of them stated with obvious satisfaction, “but you may be certain we’ll tell him you’re here as soon as he returns.”
They had gone, oblivious to her pounding on the door and the furious threats she’d shouted at them. Many hours had passed and no one had come, not even to bring them water. Edyth, fortunately, had come across a few old tallow candles and a flint box. The room had been dark to begin with, though a little light made its way through the boarded windows before the sky darkened and it began to rain. By now the room would have been black as pitch were it not for the dim light of the candle, and Lillis tried to be as grateful for that as she could. But they were very cold and very hungry and very frightened. As the hours crawled by she began to wonder if the fiends hadn’t forgotten all about them and gone on to their next amusement. Some months from now, when the lady of the castle needed extra chairs for company at Christmas, someone would come to this room and find two skeletons sitting companionably side by side around the table.
Lillis