If Not For The Knight, Debbie Boek [electronic reader TXT] 📗

each should be levied, then compare those figures with Aric's books to see what they have actually paid and what they still owe.”

“I know nothing about levying taxes, Milord.”

“I will help you with that. Do you have any other questions about this for now?”

“Will I be responsible for collecting the taxes?” Regan asked nervously. With the villagers already despising her, she knew their barbs and jeers would increase tenfold if she was required to do that, as well.

“We can decide that when the time comes. It will take awhile to determine what is owed first. The job will not be as easy as it sounds, you know.”

“Yes, but I do believe I can do it, Milord,” she replied, gracing him with a warm smile. It was not going to make the villagers treat her any better, of that she was sure, but at least she would be able to see Calder periodically and speak with him. That would make it all worthwhile.

“I also believe that you can,” Calder said, returning her smile.

“You will have a knight with me, when I have to actually go to their homes?” she asked, needing his reassurance on that part.

“You will not be allowed to go without the escort of one of my knights,” he advised her sternly. He sensed that it was dealing with her own people that caused her apprehension, and it bothered him considerably that her life was so difficult because of what they had shared together. He made a promise to himself that, for as long as he was there, he would see that the villagers were no longer allowed to hurt her in any way.

“Do we have an understanding then?” he asked, after advising her of the amount of coin he would pay for her services.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked with a smile, already knowing the answer.

“No.”

“Then we have an understanding,” she agreed, extending her hand across the table.

He grasped it tenderly and they shook, sealing their agreement, his eyes smiling into hers.

“When shall I start?” she asked, her face flushing from the contact between them.

“Tomorrow, and Regan,” he paused, wondering if his next instructions were really necessary, or if he was only serving his own purposes “I think it would be best if you did your work out of the Manor. That way your papers will remain secure when you are not working on them. And you can report to me daily on the status. Would that be agreeable to you?” He saw her hesitate and worried that she would refuse.

“My son,” Regan began hesitantly, “I must be with him. Would he be allowed to come here with me?” She was not sure if it was such a good idea to have Radolf so near Calder, but with the knight away most of the day, it should be safe enough. She could send Radolf outside to play when she had to speak with him.

“Certainly, as long as he will not interrupt your work.” He would have promised her anything, as long she stayed close by him.

“Oh, he won't. He's a wonderful little boy.” Her face glowed with the love she felt for Radolf.

Calder had no desire to see how happy Edgar's son made her. It forced him to think of the two of them lying together and he could not bear it.

“Fine,” he said brusquely, ending their conversation, “I will see the both of you tomorrow after you have fulfilled your duties.” He rose from the table and left the room.

Regan's eyes clouded as she watched him leave, wondering what she said to make him so angry. She walked with her father back to his cottage, still bothered by Calder's abrupt change in mood.

“He is Radolf’s father, is he not?”

Thankful for the darkness that hid her face, Regan simply replied, “Yes.”

“Does he know?”

“No, Father, and he cannot know.” In quiet desperation, she stopped and gently grabbed his thin, fragile arm. “Please, Father, you can't tell him.”

“He's not an idiot, girl. He will learn of it sooner or later.”

“Yes, I know,” she said, with a disconsolate sigh. “It's just that, there is so much bad blood between him and Edgar, I fear for what would happen if he knew.”

Her father continued walking in a thoughtful silence, wondering which of the men she feared for.

 

 

 

Radolf ran into her arms when they reached her parents’ cottage. “You were gone so long, Momma,” he stated petulantly.

“I know, sweetheart.” Regan knelt down next to him and kissed his cheek. "But I have important news."

She smiled as she saw his blue eyes widen in anticipation.

“What news, Momma?” he asked excitedly.

“I will be working for Lord Calder.”

He scrunched his lips and pouted his disappointment with the news.

“And you are going to be my assistant and receive one silver penny at the end of the month for all of your help.”

His eyes widened again and he smiled his adorable, crooked grin. “A real penny?”

“Yes.”

“Just for me?”

“Just for you, if you behave and help me out as I ask you to.”

He jumped up and down. Running over to his grandmother, he asked excitedly, “Did you hear?”

“Yes, we did, love,” Gayle said, unable to keep from smiling herself as she watched him. “You are getting to be quite a man, being able to earn money like that.”

He puffed out his chest with pride and nodded solemnly at her. “I know,” was his response.

“Thank you for watching him, Mother. We'd better be getting home now. It's late.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” she responded, hugging them both. Radolf walked over to his grandfather and extended his pudgy, little hand. After all, men shook hands with other men, they did not hug them.

But, he was not able to keep his grandfather from rifling his reddish-gold curls affectionately as he walked away.

Radolf chattered constantly as they walked the short distance home, but Regan did not even hear him as she took notice of the light coming from their cottage. The fire would have gone out long ago and it should be dark inside. A cold fear gripped her heart as she realized that Edgar must be there. She stopped short, kneeling down in front of Radolf.

“When we go inside, I want you to go directly to bed, do you understand?" His pallet was in one corner, with a blanket hung around it to separate it from the rest of the cottage.

There was going to be trouble between her and Edgar, Regan was sure of it, and she wanted Radolf out of the way. It was bad enough that he would still be able to hear everything that went on.

“But, Momma,” he whined.

She took him firmly by the arms. “Your father is home and I want you to go directly to bed.”

Her heart dropped as, even in the moonlight, she was able to see his face turn pale and his eyes widen in fear.

“It will be okay, love. Just go straight to bed, alright?”

“Yes, Momma,” he said through trembling lips.

She squeezed him tightly and kissed his cheek. Taking his hand in hers, she squared her shoulders and headed to the cottage. Radolf followed her instructions and ran quickly to his pallet as soon as they got inside.

“Where have you been, wife?” Edgar slurred from his chair by the fire.

She moved to the far side of the room, well away from him. “I was at the Manor, discussing my new duties with Lord Calder.”

There was no sense lying about it, Iona would have told the entire village by daybreak.

“Lord Calder," he spat, getting clumsily to his feet. “Come here, woman.”

Regan remained where she was. “Edgar, perhaps you should get some sleep.”

“Come here,” he repeatedly softly. “You know better than to make me have to go to you.”

Her heart raced with fear and disgust at the knowledge of what was to come. If she fought him, Radolf would worry and come out, and she could not take the chance of Edgar doing something harmful to him.

“Yes, Edgar.” Regan steeled her shoulders and slowly walked to him.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, bringing tears of pain to her eyes as he lowered his mouth onto hers. He slobbered on her and plunged his thick, disgusting tongue into her mouth, leaving her feeling as if she might retch.

Releasing her, he motioned for her to sit down. “Before our fun begins, wife, we must talk.” He never called her by name if he could help it. More often than not, the ones that he did use were cruel and malicious. From his lips though, "wife" was the vilest that she could imagine.

“You and I will be visiting Lord Calder at first light tomorrow,” he said, his words sluggish.

“Why?” she asked nervously,