EPILOGUE

 

 

Cara sat in the solar, her toes by the fire and the cloth of gold spread over her lap as well as she could with the child so great in her. The ciclatoun was to make a coverlet for an infant’s cradle—none of hers, of course, but Lord Ruadrik’s gift for his lady’s churching, along with a robe of scarlet trimmed in ermine. He had left the fabrics at Savernake as he passed through just before Christmas, and bade her have them sent back to Wolfscar by Easter to be well in time.

She lifted her head, taking a deep breath after bending over the labor. She was flattered to have been chosen to embroider the gifts; Lord Ruadrik had taken special note of her work among Lady Melanthe’s apparel, and brought the fabric to her. She shoved herself to her feet, carrying the cloth to the cold window, where she could inspect the fine detail in what was left of the cloudy light.

She glanced out over the snowbound yard. The cloth fell from her fingers. "Elena!" she shrieked.

The door, the stairs, the way that was so slow in her cumbersome state vanished beneath her feet. She burst from the door onto the porch without even stopping for a cloak.

"Elena, Elena—"

Her sister was just dismounting, her small feet disappearing in the snow. Cara swept her up and buried her face in the thick woolens, panting with exertion.

"Here now!" Guy’s chiding voice barely reached her. She clutched at Elena as he lifted her away. "Inside." He hiked her sister in his arms, carrying her as Cara ran alongside, almost dancing in spite of her bulk. Elena was chattering in Italian; it sounded strange and wonderful to hear; Cara took in not a word of the childish talk, only heard the gay high voice and knew all was well, that Elena was whole and unhurt. She was weeping too hard to see more than Guy’s outline in the passage. Someone came in with them—a woman, a nurse; there were others in the yard; it was all confusion as Guy went back out to see to them, but Cara could only hold her sister tight.

"You’re so big!" Elena said, her dark blue eyes finally coming clear. "We have had a great adventure, coming through the snow! Dan Allegreto’s horse fell in a drift! Will we live here? It is so cold! Dan Allegreto says that I shall like it when I grow accustomed. I threw snow at him, but he said it didn’t hurt. When will the baby be born? Will I be its auntie?"

Cara’s hands loosened. "Allegreto?"

Guy came in the door, knocking snow from his boots. No one followed him but another duenna, an older lady who crossed the threshold with offended dignity as he held open the door.

"Donna Elena, thy decorum!" she snapped.

Elena stood straight in Cara’s arms, making a little courtesy. "Dan Allegreto says that if I wish to marry him," she confided to Cara, "I must learn to be a lady, for I am now a hoyden."

Cara stood straight, her heart thundering. "He is come?" she said to Guy in French.

"Nay," He shook his head. "This is all the party, but the guard that I sent to the stables."

"Oh, Dan Allegreto is here. He brought me to you," Elena said, slipping easily into French.

"The yard is empty," Guy said.

Elena pulled away. She ran to the door, pushing it open. Cara hurried after her as the little girl ran out into the snow without her cloak, calling.

Cara could not run so fast—her sister had raced across the yard and past the gate before Cara could prevent her. The duennas made shrill helpless cries after their charge, but it was only Guy and the porter who caught up with Elena after she crossed the bridge.

The little girl had already stopped. She stood gazing down the empty road. She put her hands about her mouth and cried, "Dan Allegreto!"

The name echoed back across the snowy fields. Two horses in the nearest pasture lifted shaggy heads.

"Oh," Elena said in a tiny voice. "He didn’t say goodbye to me."

"Elena, thou wilt catch thy death, standing in the snow." Cara spoke sharply. "Guy, she must go inside."

"Come then, little donna." Guy lifted her high in the air and set her on his shoulders. "Mama speaks, and we listen."

Elena made no protest, but she craned her head to see behind her until Guy had carried her through the gate. Cara watched them out of sight. She turned, looking down the road—waiting.

No one came. The tracks made a long thin shadow in the snow, vanishing out of sight where the horse pastures met the forest.

"God grant you mercy," Cara said. Cold tears spilled down her cheeks. "I’m sorry. Grant mercy. Thank you."

The snow chilled her feet. She stood with her arms hugged close to herself, stood until the cold went through her to her heart. When she realized she was shaking with it, she turned back, and left the empty road to night and frost.