now.
Chapter 5
Because Sir Wace was a responsible seneschal
he made it a part of his routine to see that the manor entrusted to
his care was kept reasonably clean and in good repair. But Wace was
a soldier at heart, and a widower to boot, and so Bowen Manor,
though well maintained, lacked a woman's fine touch. On the morning
after their arrival Catherine, Margaret, and Aldis set about
changing that.
The initial impulse to inspect the entire
house and to have any room not meeting her high personal standards
cleaned and rearranged was Catherine's. She went at her work with a
dedicated energy that was almost feverish.
“If we are clever enough to plot a successful
escape from Sutton Castle,” she said, pulling the straw mattress
off one of the guest beds, “then it will take us no more than a
single day to set Bowen Manor into proper order. Oh, the dust makes
me sneeze! Aldis, come and help me turn the mattress over. I must
say, the straw smells clean.”
“When I asked about the last housecleaning
the maidservants told me all of the mattresses were re-stuffed only
a month ago,” Aldis said. She caught the edge of the mattress and
the two of them flipped it over. A small cloud of dust arose and
Catherine sneezed again.
With the bedrooms cleaned and restored to
order, Catherine moved on to the solar and then to the great hall.
The servants she conscripted to her cause obediently scrubbed
wherever she pointed.
Margaret gladly joined her friends in their
work, hoping vigorous physical activity would keep her thoughts
away from renewed concern over the search for her that her father
would undoubtedly mount. She had slept wonderfully well, yet she
had awakened that morning with a sense of unease that grew as the
day progressed. She needed only to look out the window and see how
deep the still-falling snow was to be assured that it was unlikely
her father would find her, yet she could not shake the eerie
impression that something momentous was about to happen.
She told herself she was being silly, she had
taken leave of her usual practical good sense. She reminded herself
that she had embarked upon a desperate course, that she was defying
not only her father's personal wishes, but the strictures of the
Church and the accepted rules of society, and thus she had good
cause to feel uneasy. Then she told herself once again, very
sternly, that she was safe at Bowen. Still, Margaret knew she held
important information that she was duty-bound to pass on to the
king as quickly as possible. She began by questioning Catherine
while they worked together.
“According to my father, Lord Royce is close
to King Henry,” Margaret said.
“Since they were boys.” Catherine responded
somewhat breathlessly, as she was stretching to reach the top of
the shutters at the tall windows along one side of the great hall.
She found little dust, but a feather fell away from the
long-handled duster and drifted downward. Catherine sneezed
hard.
“Then, I suppose it would be easier, and
likely much quicker, for Lord Royce to get a message to King Henry
than for me to send a letter directly to the king,” Margaret
said.
“Probably.” Catherine lowered the feather
duster and stared at her friend. “No matter who appeals to the king
on your behalf, I doubt if he will intervene with your father.”
“I need to contact the king about a matter
other than my refusal to marry Lord Adhemar,” Margaret said.
“Oh?” By her tone and her raised eyebrows,
Catherine plainly expected an explanation.
“Please don't ask what it's about,” Margaret
begged. “It's safer for you not to know.”
“Safer?” Catherine glanced around until her
gaze settled on Aldis at the other side of the hall, where she was
supervising two maids in cleaning out the great fireplace. “I can
keep a secret.”
“No one knows that better than I. I'll tell
you this much; it's something Gertrude told me, which I believe the
king ought to know,” Margaret said.
Chapter 5
Because Sir Wace was a responsible seneschal
he made it a part of his routine to see that the manor entrusted to
his care was kept reasonably clean and in good repair. But Wace was
a soldier at heart, and a widower to boot, and so Bowen Manor,
though well maintained, lacked a woman's fine touch. On the morning
after their arrival Catherine, Margaret, and Aldis set about
changing that.
The initial impulse to inspect the entire
house and to have any room not meeting her high personal standards
cleaned and rearranged was Catherine's. She went at her work with a
dedicated energy that was almost feverish.
“If we are clever enough to plot a successful
escape from Sutton Castle,” she said, pulling the straw mattress
off one of the guest beds, “then it will take us no more than a
single day to set Bowen Manor into proper order. Oh, the dust makes
me sneeze! Aldis, come and help me turn the mattress over. I must
say, the straw smells clean.”
“When I asked about the last housecleaning
the maidservants told me all of the mattresses were re-stuffed only
a month ago,” Aldis said. She caught the edge of the mattress and
the two of them flipped it over. A small cloud of dust arose and
Catherine sneezed again.
With the bedrooms cleaned and restored to
order, Catherine moved on to the solar and then to the great hall.
The servants she conscripted to her cause obediently scrubbed
wherever she pointed.
Margaret gladly joined her friends in their
work, hoping vigorous physical activity would keep her thoughts
away from renewed concern over the search for her that her father
would undoubtedly mount. She had slept wonderfully well, yet she
had awakened that morning with a sense of unease that grew as the
day progressed. She needed only to look out the window and see how
deep the still-falling snow was to be assured that it was unlikely
her father would find her, yet she could not shake the eerie
impression that something momentous was about to happen.
She told herself she was being silly, she had
taken leave of her usual practical good sense. She reminded herself
that she had embarked upon a desperate course, that she was defying
not only her father's personal wishes, but the strictures of the
Church and the accepted rules of society, and thus she had good
cause to feel uneasy. Then she told herself once again, very
sternly, that she was safe at Bowen. Still, Margaret knew she held
important information that she was duty-bound to pass on to the
king as quickly as possible. She began by questioning Catherine
while they worked together.
“According to my father, Lord Royce is close
to King Henry,” Margaret said.
“Since they were boys.” Catherine responded
somewhat breathlessly, as she was stretching to reach the top of
the shutters at the tall windows along one side of the great hall.
She found little dust, but a feather fell away from the
long-handled duster and drifted downward. Catherine sneezed
hard.
“Then, I suppose it would be easier, and
likely much quicker, for Lord Royce to get a message to King Henry
than for me to send a letter directly to the king,” Margaret
said.
“Probably.” Catherine lowered the feather
duster and stared at her friend. “No matter who appeals to the king
on your behalf, I doubt if he will intervene with your father.”
“I need to contact the king about a matter
other than my refusal to marry Lord Adhemar,” Margaret said.
“Oh?” By her tone and her raised eyebrows,
Catherine plainly expected an explanation.
“Please don't ask what it's about,” Margaret
begged. “It's safer for you not to know.”
“Safer?” Catherine glanced around until her
gaze settled on Aldis at the other side of the hall, where she was
supervising two maids in cleaning out the great fireplace. “I can
keep a secret.”
“No one knows that better than I. I'll tell
you this much; it's something Gertrude told me, which I believe the
king ought to know,” Margaret said.
Similar Books
