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

with an iron bar, if necessary. Each shutter had loopholes cut into them, which were only large enough for an arrow to be slid through in the event of an attack, the shutters themselves protecting the archer.

Brackets for candles and candelabras were positioned around the room and on the pillars which, along with the oil lamps suspended from rings in the ceiling, would ensure the room could be properly lit even on the darkest night. It was easy to imagine an elegant feast or just a cozy evening being passed in this room.

Calder led them through one of the several screened passageways leading out from the Hall and, within a few short minutes, Regan felt completely lost. She followed along as Calder pointed out the buttery, the pantry and many other rooms, but with each turn down another corridor, she was sure that she would never be able to learn her way around the labyrinthine passageways.

Escorting them along one such passageway, Calder said, “In that direction are the stairs that lead down to the kitchen, which is actually a separate building connected to this one. These are the sleeping quarters for my men. Once all of the work has been completed and things are running smoothly, I will give them the option of taking a cottage and, perhaps, some land of their own, rather than staying here. But, for now, I need them nearby.”

Off of the screened passageway, a set of circular stairs led to the third floor. Just above the men's quarters were several small rooms.

“These will be sleeping quarters for guests, or children, should I be fortunate enough to have any,” he said, with a pointed look at Regan. She flushed and looked away from him.

He led them down the hallway to the Lord's bedchamber, which was over the Great Hall.

“This is called the Solar,” he said, watching Regan carefully, hoping she liked the room as he planned on sharing many nights in it with her.

She wandered around, running her hand over the large wooden chests. Pegs on the wall would hold items of clothing as well, and there was a stool for the Lord to sit on as he removed his boots. Along the same wall as the one below sat another large stone fireplace.

A small anteroom was off to one side, and Regan stared enviously at the great wooden tub that sat within it. Tapestries for privacy were hung alongside and held back with ties.

Most of the room was taken up by an enormous bed which, for now, was just a massive wooden frame with springs made of interlaced strips of leather. In her mind, she could picture the feather mattress that would lay on it, covered with furs and quilts. There would be heavy linen hangings tied back around the posts, which could be left down to ensure privacy, or to keep the cold winter winds at bay.

“It's a lovely room, Milord,” she said, looking around and touching the fine pieces of new furniture again. With a heavy heart, she realized that Calder would one day share this elegant, cozy room, and bed, with his wife. Here, they would create their own children.

Being lowly born, and a Saxon as well, she knew there was no hope that he could ever consider her to be his bride. Besides, she was already married. The reality of it left her feeling sick to her stomach and she suddenly needed to get out of the building as quickly as possible.

Calder frowned when he saw the sadness fill her eyes as she glanced once more at the bed, and then walked from the room. He could not understand why the sight of it would upset her so.

“Lord Cawer?” Radolf asked.

“Yes,” he answered, looking down at the boy.

“Where is the secret passages?”

Calder knelt down in front of him and whispered, “I'll show you when there is no one else around. It will be a secret for just you and me, right?”

His blue eyes wide, Radolf just nodded.

“But, come over here and I will show you something special.” Taking the boy's hand, he led him to a wall with several small peepholes drilled into it. Calder lifted Radolf into his arms, positioning him so that he could look through them and down into the Great Hall.

“These are called squints. I'll cover this wall with a tapestry, so that no one knows about the holes. This way, I can look down and see all that is happening without anyone seeing me.”

“Ooh,” was all Radolf could say in response.

“Come, let's find your Maman. I think I may have another surprise for you, as well.”

“What surprise?” he asked excitedly.

“Come with me and you'll find out,” he answered, taking Radolf's hand and helping him down the steep stairs. They caught up with Regan outside of the Keep.

“Lord Cawer has a surprise,” Radolf exclaimed excitedly as they walked over to her.

“He does, does he?”

“Yes,” the boy said, turning and looking at Calder expectantly.

“Hold out your hands and close your eyes,” he commanded.

Radolf did as he was told and his eyes opened to the size of small saucers as he looked down at the two silver coins in his chubby, little hands.

“Momma,” he said breathlessly, “look!”

“Two pennies, Radolf. You must have been an excellent assistant,” she said, smiling up at Calder. “Did you thank Lord Calder?”

“Thank you, Lord Cawer,” he said, unable to tear his eyes from the glittering pieces of silver in his hand.

“You are welcome and thank you, Radolf, for helping out so much.” Looking over at Regan, he spoke quietly. “Is all well with you?”

“Yes, Milord. I guess I was just a bit overwhelmed in there. You will have a wonderful home.” Lowering her eyes, unwilling to let him see the despair that she felt, she continued, “Radolf and I have work to attend to now. Thank you for showing us around.”

He watched in bewilderment as they headed back to the village.

 

            

 

Regan's mood did not improve when she arrived at the river to wash their clothes. Maida was already there. She considered going home and coming back another time but, instead, squared her shoulders and headed for the water's edge.

Maida's eyes narrowed as she gave Regan a sly grin. “Well, if it isn't Regan and her little bastard son,” she said sweetly. “I'm surprised Lord Calder let you so far away from his bed.”

“Momma,” Radolf began in confusion, not understanding what Maida was saying, but knowing from her tone that it was not nice.

Regan cut him off by saying, “She's just talking nonsense, RadoIf.” Kneeling down in front of him, she asked, “Will you do me a favor?”

He nodded, glancing furtively at Maida, who was still watching them. “Remember that patch of daisies that we passed on our way here?” He nodded again.

“Will you go pick a whole bunch for me? We'll put them all over the cottage to make it look pretty, alright?”

“Yes, Momma,” he said, turning and running back in the direction they had just come from, only tripping over his own feet once before he was out of sight.

She swung back to Maida. “Listen, you evil-tongued bitch, if you ever speak like that in front of my son again, God help me, I’ll cut it from your mouth and tie it around your neck.”

Maida was surprised at the venom in Regan's voice but, not one to be easily cowed, strode toward her. Not as tall as Regan, she had to look up to meet her eyes. “You Norman whore, who are you to talk to me like that?”

“I am Radolf's mother, and don't you ever forget it.” Furious at the look of superiority on Maida's face, her hand swung out and met the other woman's face with a resounding whack.

The petite blonde stepped away, her hand raised to the red welt on her cheek. Pure hatred poured from her eyes as she looked at Regan. “We know that he even comes to your cottage now, when he feels the need to rut. Obviously, it doesn't offend Radolf’s sensibilities overly much when he has to witness you breaking your marriage vows.” She quickly took a step backward as Regan moved toward her.

“Whoever your nosy little spy is, they obviously neglected to mention that Lord Calder was only at my cottage for a few minutes, not nearly long enough to do what your filthy mind assumes.”

“Just because he can't last as long as Edgar doesn't mean he didn't have the time to do the deed,” she answered maliciously, a slight smile on her lips.

“You brag to me about being Edgar's mistress?” Regan asked disgustedly. “It must leave you fairly lonely, what with him running away in such a cowardly fashion. But, of course, you've probably gotten several men to replace him already, haven't you?”

“I have no need of any other men,” Maida replied smugly, stooping down to retrieve her wet clothes.

Regan's mind was racing. “Have you seen him, Maida? Do you know where he is?”

“If your husband cared anything at all about you, I imagine that he would tell you that for himself,” she stated arrogantly, then turned and walked away.

If her barb was meant to hurt Regan, it missed its mark. Her only concern was that Edgar might be hiding nearby. He might even be watching her and know of her nights with Calder.

Regan viciously washed out their clothing on the rocks while she tried to determine what she should