"What had happened to the cook's daughter?" Hugh asked curiously.
"Her neck was broken," he announced bluntly. Wynekyn allowed a moment for his words to sink in before continuing. "According to Willa, they were playing chase. Cook's daughter, Luvena, was a good distance ahead. Willa chased after her into a clearing just as the lass fell from above. She thought the girl must have tried to climb a small cliff to hide from her and fallen. Willa was terribly distraught. Luvena was like a sister to her."
A brief silence filled the room; then Wynekyn went on, " 'Twas shortly after that incident that Richard asked me to be Willa's godfather. I had always assumed, like yourself, that she was simply a bastard child of his, but he set me straight on the matter. He assured me that she was neither a bastard nor his own. She had been placed into his keeping, willed to him in effect, which was why he named her Willa. And he had vowed to protect her with his very life. He loved her as his own. Of course, I could not refuse. She was such a charming little thing, all curly golden hair and enchanting smiles."
A soft chuckle slipped from his lips. "It seemed every time I came to visit her here, she was chasing about with Wolfy and Fen, charging after the birds." He sighed, his eyes gone soft with memory; then he frowned. "She never played with other children, however. She never made friends with another child again. I - "
"Just a minute," Hugh interrupted. "When did Uncle Richard and Willa move here from Claymorgan?"
"Oh, dear. I am sorry. I forgot to tell you that part, did I not?" Wynekyn clucked and shook his head with mild self-disgust. "After the murder, he decided Willa would be safer here and - "
"Murder?" Jollivet cried shrilly. "What murder?"
Wynekyn was growing impatient with the constant interruptions. "I am sure I told you that. The cook's daughter."
"The cook's daughter? Murdered?" Hugh questioned. When Wynekyn nodded, he protested, "But you said she broke her neck in a fall."
"Aye. Well, that was what we assumed at first. But though the girl's neck was broken, we decided 'twas not from a fall. There were bruises on the child's arm as if she'd been grabbed roughly. There were also marks at the base of her neck, and red marks on her chin as if someone had grabbed her face and jerked it to the side and up. Richard thought, and I had to concur, that someone had broken her neck deliberately."
"Why would someone have killed the cook's daughter?" Lucan asked with confusion.
"He would have thought Luvena was Willa," Wynekyn explained patiently. "Cook's daughter was a fair-haired child and she and Willa had traded gowns that day. The mistake would have been an easy one to make." He shrugged. "At any rate, 'twas Luvena's death that persuaded Richard Willa was no longer safe at Claymorgan."
"Safe from what?" Jollivet asked with fascination. "Whom did he think was trying to harm Willa?"
Wynekyn shook his head. "I do not know. He never explained that to me. He only said that 'twas a very powerful man and that she was at terrible risk." Wynekyn grew silent, his expression thoughtful then he glanced at them. "Richard took great pains to keep her safe. He had Willa and Eada smuggled out of Claymorgan in the dead of night and brought to the cottage here at Hillcrest. Three of his most trusted and skilled warriors were sent with them. Alsneta, the cook, was brought here to the castle. Everyone but the men who had found the girls was told that Willa had died and that Richard could not bear to remain at Claymorgan with the memories of the child he'd loved as a daughter. The men themselves were sworn to secrecy. Fortunately, the ones who found Willa that day were Richard's most trustworthy soldiers."
Standing, he paced a few steps before adding, "Richard did not just place Willa in the most remote part of this estate. Once he had moved here himself, he not only refused to allow her entrance to the castle, he would not even allow himself to visit her for the first five years." He shook his head, his bewilderment showing. "She missed him terribly, of course, but still their separation was harder on him, I think. He adored the child. He wrote her letters every day. For five years that was the only contact the two had with each other. Letters and small gifts to her from him, and messages and small gifts she sent back. Your uncle also grilled the messenger every night on his return. I witnessed this on several such occasions. Richard would ask what Willa was doing, how her health was, how she had played that day, every word she had said." He smiled faintly at the memory. "I was questioned myself every time I stopped to visit on my way here. He was quite upset about her refusal to make any more friends. That troubled him greatly, but he... we... none of us had any idea how to make her feel safe to have friends again."
"You mentioned that before," Lucan said. "Why did she refuse to have friends after Luvena?"
"We never understood why, ourselves, until Eada explained it. Willa apparently overheard Richard and me talking about the child's death and our suspicion that she'd been murdered. After that, she refused to have playmates again lest someone else be accidentally killed in her place."
Hugh muttered something unpleasant under his breath and Wynekyn nodded.
"Aye. It made a lonely childhood for her, I think. She allowed only the old witch, her guards, Richard and myself close to her. Her only playmates were the animals."
"So Wilf and Fin are the guards my uncle sent with her. What happened to the third one?"
Wynekyn glanced at Hugh in confusion. "What?"
"Wilf and Fin. They are her guards?"
"Oh." He gave a slight laugh. "You mean Wolfy and Fen. Nay. Baldulf is her guard."
"You said she had three guards," Jollivet pointed out.
"Aye. She did. Howel and Ilbert were also her guards. But Richard's steward died some five years after the move here. Howel was the only man he trusted to take over the position, and since nothing had happened in all those years to suggest that Willa was still in danger, he called Howel back to be his new steward here. That is also when he finally allowed himself to see Willa again, though their meetings were always clandestine."
"What happened to Ilbert?" Lucan asked when Wynekyn fell silent.
"He died a year ago." When that announcement brought sharp glances from all three men, he quickly added, " 'Twas of natural causes. He fell ill. A fever. That left just Baldulf to guard her. Richard debated sending another man down to replace Ilbert, but decided against it in the end. There seemed little need."
"So where is this Baldulf now?" Lucan asked.
"And who are Wilf and Fin?" Hugh asked irritably.
"Wolfy and Fen?" Wynekyn murmured, apparently deciding to answer Hugh's question first. "Are they still about? Goodness I would have thought they would have moved on ages ago."
"Who are they?" Hugh repeated.
"Wolves."
"Wolves!" all three men exclaimed at the same time, expressions horrified. Wynekyn grimaced slightly.
"Aye, I reacted much the same way myself when they first appeared. It seems Wolfy got caught in a snare... Or was it Fen? I cannot remember now. Oh well, no matter. One of the beasts got caught in a hunter's snare. Willa found him halfway through the job of biting his - or her - own foot off. She somehow managed to get him undone and tended his injury, then fed him or her and the mate. Wolves mate for life, you understand, so she knew the mate would not be far away. The injured one was so weak, it could not travel for a bit and she fed and tended the beast until it mended. After that, the wolves stuck around. I guess even a wolf knows a good thing when it comes across it, hmm?"
Hugh and Lucan exchanged a grimace at that. Neither of them had recognized Willa for "a good thing" as they should have. As even a wolf was smart enough to do.
They were all silent for a moment, then Wynekyn cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders and raised his eyebrows questioningly. "So, when is the wedding to be?"
Hugh knew they were all waiting for his answer, but his thoughts were in a bit of a muddle. He stood and began to pace. He would have liked to have said right away. Unfortunately, he very much feared that was not a likelihood. He suspected he would have to make some reparations before Willa would agree to marry him, and he didn't have any idea how long that would take. Oh, how quickly the mighty had fallen. Two days ago he was a poor knight. Then for a few glorious days he had believed himself a rich earl.
And hadn't he strutted as arrogantly as any of those women who had rejected him for his poverty? he thought with self-disgust. Now he was a poor earl and it did not seem any more glamorous than being a poor knight. In fact, it seemed worse to him at that moment. As a poor earl... His gaze slid over the servants moving busily about. Dear God.
Chapter Three
"My lord?" Wynekyn prompted.
Clearing his throat, Hugh moved back to sit on the bench again. He picked up his ale to avoid meeting the older man's gaze. "A week or so should do."
"A week or so?" Wynekyn looked amazed. "But Richard wanted the deed done as soon as he died. He - "
"Nay. That is out of the question."
"Why?"
When Hugh sat silent, helpless to come up with an acceptable excuse without revealing his own blunder, Lucan smoothly intervened.
"Hillcrest has only just died. The poor girl is still grieving, as is Hugh himself. Surely 'tis not too much to allow two or three weeks to pass first? At the very least, it would allow them some time to prepare for the ceremony and the feast to follow."
"Ah." Much to Hugh's relief, Wynekyn looked less appalled. "I had not thought of that. Perhaps a short delay would not be amiss," he allowed.
"Aye," Hugh murmured and looked down into his drink, pondering his situation as the conversation drifted around him. His immediate urge was to go speak to Willa now and attempt to repair the damage he'd done. However, he was thinking that allowing some time for her anger to ebb might be the better idea. How long would that take, he wondered. He was guessing two or three months might do it, but knew he didn't have that kind of time.
"What do you think, Hugh?"
Pulled from his thoughts, he glanced up blankly. "What?"
"Lord Wynekyn was just suggesting that perhaps Lady Willa and the hag... er... Eada," Lucan quickly corrected himself. "That perhaps we should move them up to the castle in the meantime."
Alarm immediately coursed through Hugh. With Willa here in the castle, both Wynekyn and Jollivet were sure to realize there was something wrong between them. He was reluctant to allow that. He would prefer the opportunity to... well... he supposed he would have to woo her now. He berated himself for the idiot he was. If he'd stayed to hear all the particulars of his uncle's will in the first place, instead of storming out and muddling things with his arrogant announcement that she was beneath him...
Odd how she suddenly wasn't beneath him anymore, he thought with self-derision. She was the same woman she'd been but hours ago and yet suddenly she was a suitable wife. And it wasn't just the wealth which she had and he needed, but also the fact that Wynekyn assured him she was a lady by birth. Odd the difference a word could make. The old hag's comment came to him then. "Gold is gold whether buried deep in the mud or adorning a king's crown." Damn the witch! She'd been right, of course. Willa was a lady whether in a castle or a hovel, and he should have recognized that. As Lucan had pointed out, she spoke well. She also carried herself with the bearing and pride of a lady despite her sacklike clothes and bare feet. And, he realized now, she'd sat straight before him on his horse, moving with the animal with a natural grace rather than slapping about on his back like a sack of turnips. She'd been taught to ride, he was sure. But he'd missed all these signs and assumed she was a by-blow of his uncle. He was an idiot.
"Hugh?"
"What?" he asked, his irritation at himself showing in his tone. Then, realizing that they were awaiting his response to the suggestion that Willa and the witch be brought to the castle, he frowned. "Nay. She'll not be brought to the castle. My uncle thought it unsafe. She remains where she is until the wedding."
Wynekyn pursed his lips thoughtfully over that, but he was shaking his head even as he did. "I do not know. The moment we start making preparations for the wedding, I believe she will be at risk. Would it not be easier to keep her safe here than in that hovel?"
"Uncle Richard thought not."
"Richard counted on the fact that everyone thought her dead. 'Tis why he sent her to live in the cottage with Eada, if you will recall."
Hugh shrugged impatiently, then distracted the man by asking, "Wynekyn, how can I marry the girl, when I do not know her name? The wedding contract must bear a name."
"Well, surely the girl knows her own name." Lucan peered at the older man in query.
"Nay. I do not think she does, and that is a problem, of course. Richard said that he would leave a letter explaining all on his death. But I have yet to find it."
" 'Tis missing?"
"Nay. Well, I hope not. I did look for it after his death, but there was very little time. I had to ride to court and inform the king, and..." He shrugged. "I shall search again now that I am returned. I am sure it will show up."
Hugh noticed that he did not look as certain as his words suggested.
"In fact," the old man said, "I think I shall go take another look now. Perhaps you should ride back to the cottage and inform Willa that the wedding will take place in two weeks and ask her where she would prefer to stay. I really think that she might be safer here. I also think that the wedding would be better performed right away, but first we do need the letter from Richard, explaining all and giving her name."
Taking Hugh's dull silence for acquiescence, he left the three younger men alone and headed for the stairs to the upper level.