“Tomorrow?” Bronwyn whispered.
“Yes! Tomorrow!” Lily wailed. “The messenger called him Deadeye! He is due to arrive tomorrow and by night’s end I will be his wife. Bronwyn, I can’t! They say he looks like the walking dead, never sleeps, and cannot die.”
Bronwyn held up her hand. “Just what nonsense are you spewing?”
Edythe blinked. “Didn’t you speak to the herald?”
Bronwyn shook her head. “I never saw him. I learned about Father from Baron Craven.”
“Baron Craven?” Edythe repeated, puzzled. “I thought he died several months ago.”
“He did. I was referring to his son, Luc.”
Edythe rose to her feet and shook her head. “But he’s not allowed…he’s…he’s forbidden to come on this side of Torrens. Father said we were protected…” Her voice died as she realized the full implications of her father’s death.
“With Father gone, Luc is determined to marry one of us and take over Syndlear. I am the one he wants, most likely to have his revenge for what I did.”
Now Edythe was outraged. “But you can’t! Not to him!”
Lily shook her head, confused. “I didn’t even know Baron Craven had a son. How is that?”
Bronwyn bit her bottom lip, wishing she never had to reveal the past. “When I was thirteen, Luc attacked me and would have been successful in…hurting me if Father had not arrived in time. Luc was banished from Cumbria, but it seems he was pardoned by King Stephen before his death and was given the king’s blessing that one of us would become his wife in the New Year if Father didn’t object. And with Father gone, Baron Craven plans to marry me and gain control of Syndlear, thereby crippling the defense of Hunswick and the authority of the new Lord Anscombe.”
“The New Year!” Edythe exclaimed. “But that’s less than a fortnight away.”
“I have until Epiphany to prepare.”
Edythe stared her sister in the eye. “You cannot marry him. He was a vicious boy and such a person does not change with time.”
“He is still cruel,” Bronwyn murmured, her thoughts flashing back to that afternoon, “and you are correct. I won’t marry him. And neither will you marry the new lord, Lily. While I don’t agree with your fantastical reasons to be reluctant to such a match, I think it abhorrent to force a woman into matrimony. If Father really did desire this, he was only trying to protect us. I intend to do the same, but with far less permanent entanglements.”
“We will do anything,” Edythe encouraged.
“Including leaving for Scotland?”
Both sisters jumped to their feet and the barrage of questions began. “In winter?”
“But where? When?”
“How will we know where to go?”
“Who will take us?”
Bronwyn waved for them to sit down again and calm themselves. “We will depart on Christmas Day.”
“But Twelfthtide!” both Edythe and Lily cried out simultaneously. “We would miss all the festivities! What about Saint Stephen’s Day and—”
“We need to leave as soon as possible and Christmas is the first time when people’s attentions will be elsewhere for a long enough period for us to leave without being noticed. And once out of the Hills, those who we encounter will assume we are traveling toward festivities. Rivalries will be placed on temporary truce making travel safer.”
“It cannot be another time? Later? Perhaps after Childermas?”
Bronwyn shook her head. “The risk is too great. By the time Luc discovers our disappearance, we should be in Scotland and on our way to Perth, where our cousins live. Then in the spring we will go north into the Highlands to see for ourselves just where our mother grew up.”
“But what about the new lord? He and I are supposed to marry tomorrow!”
“I doubt that. But if that is true, then you will stall him, Lily,” Bronwyn answered quietly. “You are good at dealing with men. Tell him you need more time to be accustomed to the idea. If Father encouraged the union, he cannot be a pitiless man. I have no doubt that he would respect your wishes for at least a few days and that is all we need.”
Edythe bit her bottom lip. “I assume Jeb and Aimon will be our guides.”
Bronwyn nodded. She had always loved the now old Highlanders who had served as bodyguards to her and her sisters when they were children. Jeb had lost his wife to illness years ago and old faithful Aimon had never married, considering the three of them his surrogate family. “I haven’t asked yet, but they would not refuse. To deliver us safely into Scotland if need be was Grandmother’s sole purpose in sending them to live with us.”
Lily plopped back down in her chair and twiddled her fingers. “I wonder what kind of men we might encounter in Scotland. Perhaps the reason we have not found our anyone in England is because they have been waiting for us up north.”
Bronwyn gave in to the compulsion to roll her eyes. Leave it to Lily to twist a situation into something positive—and related to love. “You will find admirers wherever you go. And you, too, Edythe, will be adored by many,” Bronwyn added with confidence as she rose and went to the door, indicating that tonight’s chat was over.
Edythe shook her head. “Lily desires not a man, but an impossibility. A person just cannot be responsible and spontaneous at the same time.”
“Well, you drive all your men away with your seriousness,” Lily countered, looking to Bronwyn for support as she strolled up to the door.
Sighing, Bronwyn leaned against the jamb and picked up a lock of Lily’s dark hair. “You, Lily, need to find a way to mature without losing your optimism, and Edythe, you set a standard so high and can be so critical of those who do not meet it.”
Edythe opened her mouth and then closed it as she joined Lily at the door. “And what about you?” she demanded. “And don’t say you are alone because you lack beauty, for you could be quite pretty if you tried wearing something other than dreary colors and keeping your hair in a net all the time.”
“Unfair, because you know that I could do as you ask, change my clothes and hair, but it wouldn’t matter. The kind of man I want doesn’t want me,” Bronwyn uttered matter-of-factly, making shooing motions to get them to leave.
Edythe and Lily finally capitulated and she was alone again. She loved her sisters. They were incredibly different. When Lily laughed, Edythe was serious, carefree versus introspective. They were alike in only one respect: They were both undeniably beautiful. And for Bronwyn, their beauty was both a blessing and a curse. Any man who had ever shown remotely any interest in her always ended up gravitating toward one of her youngest sisters. Through them she had been able to see men for who they really were. They had saved her from making many a mistake in her younger days when she still believed someone was coming…someone who would love her and only her.
Someone who would be her hero.
Someone like the ghost who had come to her rescue that very afternoon.
Chapter Two
MONDAY, DECEMBER 20, 1154
TWELFTHTIDE
Also known as Christmastide or the Twelve Days of Christmas, Twelfthtide is the twelve-day period celebrated by Christians beginning the day after Christmas,