style="font-size:15px;"> Kenneth strode up the stairs. Of course he was thinking of the lady of the keep. Who knew what Clara would do if allowed to return to the new mother? He’d read that missive. She was not to be trusted and had even put her own stubbornness ahead of the well-being of a whole town. Lord Taurin was an influential man. When he had sent troops to Colchester to find his slave and child, they had carried the weight of his heavy authority. Little wonder that in the aftermath, the guild masters, not known for their bravery, had been quick to evict the treacherous midwife from their midst. Lord Eudo’s letter had warned of the consequences that could fall upon Lord Adrien and his keep if the midwife were not made to cooperate with Lord Taurin’s demands.
As he reached the main floor, Clara’s cries suddenly stopped. Immediately, he paused. Was she hurt?
Nay, she was just realizing that the truth of her treachery was coming to light. Ahead of him, one of the young maids cried out something in English. Kenneth looked over into the kitchen to see her near a pot of boiling water while shaking her hand. She’d scalded herself. The old cook told her to plunge it into cold water. He swallowed. What would the village do without a midwife and healer?
Slowly, he left the kitchens. In the corridor, he stopped again. What would Lady Ediva do? And her newborn son, the heir to Dunmow Keep? Sadly, ’twas far too common for babes to depart this world soon after birth, and a healthy howl at the start of life did not mean all was well and good for him.
Kenneth glanced up the stairs that led to the solar. Both mother and babe needed Clara. But he’d read that warning. Clara could not be trusted.
Immediately, several maids charged past him into the kitchen, calling for buckets of steaming water and herb satchels. Kenneth barely managed to jump out of their way in time. He glanced up to find Margaret reaching the bottom of the steps, not bothering to disguise the fearful look in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“Milady has collapsed,” she whispered tightly. “Where is Clara?”
“In the dungeon.”
“Dungeon! What on earth for?”
“For past crimes. ’Tis of no concern to you.”
“I only pray that you know what you’ve done, for surely as the sun rises, ’tis a dangerous business birthing without a midwife’s help, even after the main part’s done.” She sniffed and rushed back up the stairs.
A few treads up, she turned. “I don’t know why you jailed her, but it had best be a good reason. ’Tis one command you’ll have to answer for!”
Kenneth stiffened. No one had read the missive except him. Would they still censure him if they knew how dangerous Clara could be?
He swallowed. Was she really that dangerous? She’d worked hard for Lady Ediva, stayed in that solar for more than a day, laboring with her mistress. He had seen no sign that she wished either mother or child to come to any harm.
Nay, he would not risk Lady Ediva’s life! He plowed back into the bowels of the keep. There, he fumbled with the keys, hating how his hands had begun to shake as he struggled to unlock the door.
Clara blinked at the sudden light. She stood in the center of the cell, her arms wrapped around her torso as if to keep at bay the filth and fear only the dungeon could create. Kenneth heard the scurry of some unseen creature behind her.
“Milady has collapsed,” he grated out as he grabbed her upper arm. “I will take you to her, but be warned. If she dies, I will hold you personally responsible, for you’ve made poor decisions so far with new mothers and their babes.”
As Kenneth dragged Clara through the keep, he heard her call over her shoulder, “I want the broth I ordered when her confinement began. Milady needs the strength in it!” She added to that order herbs, more hot water and water with spirits in it to cleanse the dungeon from her hands.
“Aye, mistress, we have it all!” a young female voice answered.
As if only then fully realizing the danger now happening, Clara broke free of Kenneth’s grip and bolted up the stairs.
All Kenneth could do was race after her, a prayer on his lips.
As soon as Kenneth learned that all was well with Lady Ediva and the new child, he approached Lord Adrien in his private chamber. The Baron of Dunmow had left his wife to sleep. “Milord, we need to speak.”
Kenneth swallowed. He needed to confess his part in how Clara had disappeared so soon after Ediva had delivered, then suddenly reappeared when milady needed her help.
“Hmm?” Distracted, Lord Adrien looked up from his mindless task. He held his oiling cloth in his shaking hand. ’Twas the job of that young squire, Harry, to oil and care for Lord Adrien’s chain mail, but Kenneth knew the baron took pride in keeping his own armor in order. Mayhap something to keep himself busy?
The man looked tired, as if battle worn, and Kenneth set aside his confession for the time being. “Come, my lord. Let’s get you some refreshment. You have stayed up as long as Lady Ediva has. She’s resting, as you should be also.” Kenneth took charge and stepped out into the corridor to order Harry to provide some food and drink.
Watching the young squire dash off, he could hear the sounds of supper preparation. ’Twas late in the day, and the evening meal had been delayed until word came down from the solar that mother and babe were safe from the dangers of delivery for the time being. Though his stomach growled, Kenneth ignored his hunger and returned to Adrien’s chamber. The pallet bed Adrien had used when he first arrived was shoved into one corner, its original space now occupied by a large desk and several chairs, a wardrobe and several trunks. Dropping his oiling cloth on the desk, Adrien leaned back heavily in his seat. The meal came, and Kenneth encouraged his baron to eat.
Adrien looked up and blew out a sigh. “My thanks to you, Sergeant. Your quick actions saved Lady Ediva.”
Kenneth straightened. “Nay,” he admitted tightly. “Clara saved her, milord. I merely retrieved her. I had—”
Adrien carried on as if he hadn’t heard Kenneth. “Ediva was doing fine, smiling, feeding the babe, and suddenly, she paled and fell back onto the pillows. Our son nearly rolled off the bed when she went limp. Margaret caught him just in time. I don’t know what would have happened if Clara hadn’t returned so soon.” He straightened quickly. “She stepped out of the chamber after the delivery. Where did she go?”
Kenneth swallowed. “I sent her to the jail below the stairs.”
Lord Adrien’s brows shot up. “The dungeon? You threw her in the dungeon? What did she do wrong?”
Kenneth pulled the missive from the pocket of his surcoat. Adrien took it. Standing, he read aloud,
Dear brother, I greet you in the name of our Lord and pray for your health. My new and dear wife does well in her pregnancy and I enjoy each day with her. I hope Ediva is also fine.
But this is not a social letter. Only today have I discovered the true reason for the offer of Clara, the midwife, to you, by my guild masters, when I asked for someone to replace yours. Though I had
