“But why her? I’ve never even seen them together or heard him mention her name,” Alys whined.
“Maybe she’s with child,” Annie replied.
“Oh, God! Ye think?” Alys asked.
“Anything is possible. Do ye think Lady Lockwood’s with child yet?” Annie asked.
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t see to her private laundry.”
“If I was married to a man as handsome as Lord Lockwood, I’d want to perform my wifely duties every night,” Annie said, smiling dreamily. “Lord, but he’s a handsome devil. Wonder what he saw in that pasty trout.”
“A fortune,” Alys said.
“Do ye think they get on?”
Alys shook her head. “Those two are like chalk and cheese. Lady Marjorie is openly insolent to him.”
“Does he beat her?” Annie asked, her eyes opening wide.
“I don’t think so. He’s too much of a gentleman to take a strap to her.”
“Why do ye think she’s taken against him?” Annie asked. “She had to marry someone, and her father could have landed her with much worse.” Annie crossed her eyes and made like she had a hump, making Alys laugh.
“She likely sees him as an interloper in her own home.”
“But it’s still her home,” Annie pointed out reasonably.
“She may have had her heart set on someone else. Hard to imagine it, though. She’s so hard-hearted. I think the only man she can muster any passion for is Christ.”
“Love softens us all,” Annie stated wisely.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in love.”
“I think yer Lord Lockwood loves his wife,” Annie said.
“Why would ye think that?”
“He appeared quite flushed when he gazed upon her. Perhaps recalling their night of passion?” Annie waggled her eyebrows.
“Ye are wicked, Annie.”
“I’m not doing any harm, and ye look in need of cheering up.”
“Ye have cheered me up,” Alys said, smiling at her friend. “And now I have to get back. I must return to my duties after dinner with Will and Bess.”
“And I’ve got to help my ma. She’s with child again,” Annie said with a heavy sigh.
“Is she? How old’s she now?” Alys asked.
“Thirty-six or thereabouts. Too old to be having babies, but my stepfather, he won’t leave her be. Always at her. I can hear them when I go to bed.”
“Poor woman,” Alys said, horrified.
“I think she likes it,” Annie whispered.
The two girls exchanged looks and burst out laughing.
“Well, if ever I’m lucky enough to wed, I hope I’ll like it,” Alys said. “I’ll see ye next Sunday, Annie.”
“I’ll be here, for where else would I be?” Annie asked, rolling her eyes.
They parted ways and Alys hurried home, where Bess was already setting the table. The stew smelled good but was nothing like the stew at the manor, and the brown bread was dry and coarse, having been baked yesterday and left out overnight.
“Thank ye for dinner, but I must get back,” Alys said as soon as the meal was over. “I’m needed up at the house.”
“Ye go on, Alys, and mind yerself,” Will said, sounding uncomfortably like their late father. “They say the new lord is a bounder.”
“And who says that?” Alys demanded.
“Them in the village,” Will replied. “They reckon he has no money of his own. They say Master Ashcombe was too barmy to see he was being duped when he agreed to the match. Could have done better for his only child.”
“Do shut up, Will,” Bess said affectionately. “Lady Marjorie should be grateful she got such a handsome husband and not some dullard twice her age.”
Will glared at her, and she looked away, a small smile playing about her lips.
“Is that all ye do is talk about the man’s charms?” Will demanded. “No wonder it takes ye so long to fetch the water from the well.”
Alys looked away. Bess had just repeated what Annie had said. It seemed all the village women were mad for the new lord.
“What else should we talk about?” Bess demanded. “Not like anything interesting ever happens in these parts.”
“The smallpox wasn’t interesting enough for ye?” Will asked.
Bess sighed and shook her head. “Come now, husband. It’s all a bit of harmless fun. Who wants to talk about death and loss? Everyone’s still grieving their loved ones.”
Will nodded. “I suppose ye’re right. As long as it’s harmless, mind.”
Bess laughed out loud at this. “Don’t worry, sweeting. Ye’re in no danger of losing me to the lord of the manor. He’s got his hands full with his wife.”
“Shall I help ye wash up before I go?” Alys asked.
“No, ye go on,” Bess said. “Ye’re a guest, after all.”
Alys slid off the bench and reached for her shawl, lowering her head as she wrapped it about her shoulders to hide her dismay. She was a guest. Suddenly, she understood something of what Lady Marjorie must feel. The house she’d grown up in no longer felt like home.
Chapter 33
The manor was strangely quiet when Alys got back. She thought the family might still be at dinner, it being delayed on account of the servants attending church instead of preparing the meal, but the dining room was empty.
“Mistress Helmsley wants you,” Millie said when she saw Alys in the corridor.
Alys returned the shawl to her room, tied an apron over her skirt to protect her gown, and hurried downstairs.
Mistress Helmsley was in the kitchen, her round face creased with worry. “Alys, his lordship’s been taken ill,” she said. “Since you’ve already had smallpox, you’ll have to nurse him. Her ladyship has summoned the physician.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alys muttered, recalling Annie’s comment about Lord Lockwood looking flushed in church. He must have already been fevered. If he had been exposed to
