"Looking back on my life, it is quite easy for me to pinpoint the exact day, the exact hour that changed my life, turning it out of its comfortable bed and and setting it on the course that has brought me to where I am in my life now. That was the day my father brought his new wife into our household. I had been the lady of the keep for the last ten years, nominally at least, ever since my mother had died when I five years old, giving birth to my youngest brothers, the second set of twins in our family. They completed our family, making us a total of seven counting my three older brothers and my father. Seven seemed like a perfectly good number to me and I could not see why Father would want to change that.
Perhaps he felt my household management skills were not what they should be and he was most likely right about that. In reality, we had a marvelous housekeeper who kept the household humming along just as it ought. Mrs. B consulted me (when she could find me), but usually she could not and she just carried on with her business, confident I approved of everything she did. She knew I would be out in the fields or the forest with the boys, if they let me tag along, or out on my own if they would not. The out-of-doors was where I felt most at home, with dirt under my fingernails and twigs caught in my hair, rather than inventorying pantries, planning meals, or overseeing the scrubbing out of the rooms next to Father’s. Which, of course, is what I should have been doing the last few days, getting ready for the new wife. Instead I had been improving my rabbit-snaring skills, following our gamekeeper through the mists and the rain along the trap line, trying to be silently observant and definitely being attentive as he occasionally commented on a rabbit or a trap or the weather.
Father and the Lady F arrived in the late afternoon after the morning rains had stopped, the autumn sun slanting through the trees, lighting up the drops on the leaves of the trees so that the woods sparkled. Two wagons drawn by matching teams followed them. Father was astride his big black and she rode a glistening bay I did not recognize, just as the horses pulling the wagons were unfamiliar. They were all high quality, perky, well-fed, sure on their feet. The wagons, too, bespoke quality, painted with detailed scrolls and embellishments, piled high with goods under tightly fastened coverings.
I saw all this because, since we had received notice of their coming, we were all up on the battlements peering between the ___ to get our first glimpse of her. As Father dismounted, handing off the reins to the groom waiting to receive them, and turned to hand down his lady, we dashed for the steep stairs down to arrive in the hall to receive them, just as they came through the great front door. The servants were already lined up—Mrs B had seen to that—and we breathlessly took our places alongside them.
The hounds had left their warm spots on the hearth, where a fire had been built against autumn’s chill, and were winding around Father’s legs, begging for his attention. He greeted each with a word and a pat on the head and sent them back to the fireplace. Then he took his lady’s hand and brought her over to where we waited. My father eyed us narrowly, but only shook his head slightly, before proceeding to introduce us.
F was tall with a fine figure gowned in green brocade and auburn hair that peeked demurely from under her green hood. Her cheekbones were high, her mouth full, her eyes a snapping blue. She smiled genteelly and tipped her head to each of us in turn as Father spoke each of our names. G and older twins all bowed with grace. I was suddenly aware of my wind-tossed hair and felt heat on my cheeks. When it came my turn I dropped a deep curtsy as I had been taught. When I rose, she took my hand, trapping it in both of hers and caught my gaze with hers.
“I do hope we are going to be friends, Talitha,” she said. Her voice was a lovely contralto. “I would so hate to have to be your enemy.”
I was struck dumb. I became aware my mouth was open and closed it abruptly.
“Of course,” I finally managed. But I could not bring myself to actually say the words that I imagined she was waiting to hear, that we would be friends. She looked at me expectantly for a moment, then smiled again and moved on down the line to D. The twins bowed to her appropriately and greeted her properly. Then Father took her away to show her to her rooms and the rest of us withdrew to Father’s library, eager to discuss her before we were called to dinner.
The boys were eager to discuss. I found myself rather disconcerted. I curled up in my favorite chair, feet tucked under me and gazed across the room at the fire. G was leaning against the hearth, poking at it absentmindedly. “She’s quite handsome,” he was saying. The other boys were sprawled about on chairs or the floor. The hounds had followed us and they made quite nice backrests. The conversation washed over me and I heard none of it. I was reliving that moment in the great hall, the feel of F’s hands, the look in her eyes, hearing again her voice and her words. What did she mean? It had almost sounded like a threat. But who was I to her? No one at all. A fifteen-year-old girl who barely knew how to be a lady, who did not particularly like being a lady, having grown up surrounded by boys and men and liking the things that boys and men like and do—hounds, for instance, and hunting for another. I was nothing to her. Father had told us about F, about the strategic importance of her family and the lands and the connections they had, how marrying her would solidify the south and give us strength against the turmoil in the north. Surely I was imagining things. I was nothing to her.
I was to discover in time how very wrong I was."
from current Work in Progress
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