CHAPTER XVI

Emma could not hide her concern as she felt her daughter’s fevered forehead. The grinding, rumbling sound of the mill wheel, as familiar to her by now as the sound of her own heartbeat, filled the room. Their new mill house was more spacious than the one in Northwood, and had been built with their new family in mind. In the last winter, Oliver and Sally had built a small cottage next door. Emma pulled the sheet up further around Sarah’s neck.

Sarah let out a soft moan and turned on her side, and Emma adjusted the blanket. Christopher entered carrying a basin of water and a cloth. He set it next to Emma on the floor.

“Is there any change?” he asked, and saw the answer on his wife’s face. She confirmed his assessment with a motion of her head while rinsing the cloth in the cool water and placing it on Sarah’s head.

Christopher took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He could think of nothing else he could do to ease their suffering, and it was the most frustration he had ever felt.

A soft knock came at the door. With a last glance toward Sarah, he walked into the front room and spoke through the door.

“Who’s there?” The intrusion was unwelcome.

From the other side came the soft answer, “Oliver.”

Christopher slid the bar from its hook and walked to the hearth without saying a word. Oliver opened the door and stepped in. The cooking fire that lit Christopher’s face was the only light in a room that otherwise reflected the gloom of its lone occupant. Oliver warmed his hands over the hot bricks.

“I came only to see if there was anything that I could do. Sally wanted to come as well but the children are not yet asleep.” They had agreed to keep Alice until Sarah was well again, not wanting to risk any chance that she would catch the same affliction.

“No,” Christopher said without taking his gaze from the flames. “Just tell Alice that we’ll see her tomorrow.”

“Has there been any improvement?”

He glanced quickly at Oliver and shook his head. “We have no answer for this affliction but to pray and wait.” Pausing for a moment, he said, “You’ve learned the milling trade well, Oliver. You could open your own business if you wanted and be independent of us.”

“It is not independence that I desire. I’m surprised that you don’t know me better by now.”

Christopher shrugged off his answer. “When you first came to us I treated you poorly. I just wanted you to know that I misjudged you, and that I’m sorry.”

“Those were difficult days and you had much to deal with. I’ve never given it a second thought.”

“Still, I should have trusted in my sister’s wisdom. She was born with my father’s good sense.” Oliver could not resist the opportunity.

“Your brother deserves the same trust.”

“It was he who broke the trust between us, not me,” Christopher snapped. “He had all the opportunities, to fight alongside the earl and be admired by all the townspeople. Instead, he betrayed us and caused us to be rejected by our neighbors and friends. Can you really expect me to forgive him the death of our father?”

Oliver tried to control his temper. He took several deep breaths.

“You can’t believe that he caused your father’s death.”

“Who else? If it had not been for his choices at Wakefield, my father would still be alive.”

“And I would undoubtedly be dead,” said Oliver quietly.

Christopher stared defiantly into the fire, but Oliver knew that he had made his point. “Tell me, why did you save us that night in the woods if you felt this way?”

“That whore’s son, Sir Hugh, abused my wife. I had to get some measure of revenge.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“I told you it was, didn’t I?” he snapped the response. “Look, with the whole town against my brother, I couldn’t just stand by and let him be caught.”

“The price for keeping your trust, if that’s what you choose to call it, was higher than you could possibly imagine.”

“All things that we value come at a price, Oliver. He made his choice.”

“For which I owe him dearly.”

Christopher thought for a moment. “I know that, and I’ve never held your loyalty against you, have I?”

“No,” conceded Oliver. “But Emma and Sally need Samuel back in their lives. Can’t you see that they have paid a heavy price for this feud as well?”

“It is not a feud, Oliver. And as far as the women are involved, Samuel is welcome back if that is so important to them. But don’t expect me to act the loving brother, because I’ll have none of him.”

At that moment, Emma came into the room and made a loud “shhhh” sound. She spoke in an angry whisper.

“Sarah has finally fallen to sleep. For pity’s sake keep your voices down!” She walked to the door and wound her wrap around her shoulders. “I’m going to check on Alice, I won’t be long. Look in on Sarah and be quiet.” With a quick look and approving nod at Oliver, she left the cottage and closed the door quietly behind her.

“I’m going to sit with Sarah,” said Christopher, leaving Oliver alone by the hearth. The small flames crackled in the dark.

*

At first light the next morning, Christopher and Oliver received a large new order of wheat to be milled. With Oliver’s help, five wagonsful were unloaded into the mill storage room, while Christopher carefully logged the amount. He had sworn that he would uphold his father’s high standards of honesty, and worked hard to earn the same good reputation. He looked toward the garden where Sally was tending to this year’s crop of onions, cabbage, carrots and other vegetables that would grace the stew pot through most of the winter. Little John, now two years old, and Alice, just over one, were with her.

Happy as he was to see these children flourish, he wondered what would become of them if he was to leave for a while. And, above all, he wished that Sarah could be out there playing with them.

“That’s the lot of it, Christopher.” Oliver came from behind and tapped him on the shoulder. Christopher nodded and went to settle with the farmers, while Oliver took his turn watching Sally and the children.

Christopher rejoined him in a moment and they both stood watching in silence until Christopher cleared his throat.

“I think you could run this mill by yourself, don’t you?”

Oliver looked at him. “Why would I wish to do that?”

He shrugged. “I only mean that you could if you had to.”

“I suppose so. But it would not be my preference.” He rubbed his ears.

“It may be that someday I wish to take a journey for a while, and if I do it would be nice to know that I can count on you to take care of things around here.”

“Where would you go?”

“I don’t know.” Christopher began to regret bringing the subject up. “Who knows what the future could bring.”

Emma called his name from the door and ran to embrace him.

Christopher was immediately apprehensive and pushed her to arms’ length.

“What happened?”

“God be praised, my husband. The fever has broken and she asks for food.”

As if the weight of the world had been lifted, he took Emma to him and hugged her tightly as she sobbed with relief. Sally, who had seen her come out of the millhouse, looked to Oliver for an answer. His smile confirmed her hopes.

It was not surprising that they did not notice the two hooded figures that approached from the road until one of them spoke.

“I hope we do not intrude.”

Christopher stepped forward. Their long hooded outer garments fell full length to the ground, hiding their appearance. It was difficult even to see their faces. Sally’s first impulse was to check the children. John and Alice were still where she left them, oblivious to the newcomers.

“What do you want?” asked Christopher.

“We seek Christopher the miller. Are you he?”

“I am.”

The strangers looked at each other, nodded, and then pulled their hoods back. The speaker was a young man of strong stature, the other, a lovely woman in her early twenties with long brown hair and dark eyes that glowed with intelligence. It was she who spoke next.

“Forgive us for this abrupt intrusion, but there is need for us to be cautious. We have traveled far to find you.”

“Very well,” said Christopher. “But you still haven’t told us what you wish of us.”

“I bring a message from Samuel,” she said.

Christopher said nothing.

“Please, is my brother well?” asked Sally.

“He was well when we parted,” she said, “and still with the king’s personal guard.” Christopher’s jaw dropped. When he saw that everyone was looking at him, he spun on his heels and went into the millhouse. Emma watched him go, then turned to the strangers.

“You must be hungry. Please come inside and rest.”

The man addressed himself to Oliver. “If I may, sir, I need only a night’s rest and then I’ll be off again back to Durham. My master bade me return with haste after I saw the lady safely to you.”

“If you wish,” he said. “You can stay in the storage bin.”

In the main room of the mill house, the strangers helped themselves to generous portions of Emma’s stew. They introduced themselves as Kate and Harold. Kate told the story of their journey, which had taken ten full days, thanks to all of the troop movements along the main roads to the north. Kate had succeeded in disguising her sex as a precaution against the hazards of the open road.

“But why did Samuel send you to us, knowing well the perils of such a journey?” asked Emma.

“He feared that I would not be safe if left alone in Durham, and he was given no option but to leave with the guard.”

“As usual, he comes to us when he’s desperate,” Christopher snarled from the corner of the room.

“You needn’t mind my husband,” Emma told her, glaring in his direction.

Sally had been studying Kate intently. “Do you love my brother?” she asked.

Kate felt uncomfortable at first, but seeing the hope in the sisters’ faces, she knew she could be open.

“With all my heart.”

“You are welcome to stay with us as long as you wish,” said Oliver. “I just hope that you can put up with young John’s antics,” he added as he picked the boy up off the ground.

“I will earn my keep. You will not find me averse to work, I can promise you that.”

“Come,” said Sally. “I’ll show you to our home.”

*

That evening, Christopher was feeding Sarah the first solid food that she had been able to take for three days. Emma had prepared a thick soup with turnips and pork, a rare treat. One of the farmers had traded the leg of a freshly butchered pig to Christopher for services rendered and they had been eating of it for several days. Christopher had not spoken much with Emma since that afternoon when Kate had left with Sally. The last thing he wanted was for Emma to be angry with him, but there was so much he had kept inside for all these years that he had no notion of how to explain himself to his wife.

A soft knock came at the door, and Christopher immediately became annoyed, certain that it was Oliver. He set Sarah in the chair and walked to the door. It was his friend Simon. At first he was just surprised, since it had been several months since he had seen him last. But something in the way Simon looked made him swallow hard. Christopher looked behind him for a moment and then stepped outside, closing the door.

“It’s time, Christopher,” said Simon.

“You…you mean now?” Christopher was dazed.

“We leave this very moment. You’ll need nothing from your home; we’ll supply you with clothes and food.”

“But I need to make arrangements,” said Christopher, almost pleading.

“We can’t let you do that, Christopher. It’s too dangerous. We must leave at once, with you or without you. Decide now.”

Christopher thought about Emma and what she would think. But this was the chance that he had wanted all his life, and he knew it would never come again.

“Give me a few moments,” he said. “I can’t just disappear. If you can trust me to join you, you can trust me to be discreet.” Simon nodded his head.

“Be quick about it, my friend, or you’ll not find me here again,” he admonished.

Christopher went back into the mill house and found Alice where he had left her. He picked her up and kissed her on the head as she squirmed in his arms, moisture coming to his eyes.

“Emma!” he called toward the back hall. “We must speak.”

She came in, and knew right away that something was wrong.

“What is it?”

Christopher carefully handed Alice to her mother.

“Sarah is well?”

“She has no sign of fever, God be praised. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m taking a trip and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“A trip to where?” She was stunned.

“I can’t tell you that, but I should be back within a few months.”

“Months! Christopher, for the love of God, tell me where you’re going.” She was becoming desperate.

“Tell Oliver that he must run the mill in my absence. I’m sure he will do fine. With Samuel’s woman you’ll have plenty of help.”

She grabbed him by the sleeve. “Christopher, tell me where you’re going! Do you expect me to live for months without knowing whether you’re dead or alive?”

“I’m sorry, Emma, but this is something that I must do. Please try to understand. I must leave now.”

“Now?” Emma was on the verge of hysteria, but Christopher had already grabbed his cloak and was on his way out the door. “Christopher!” Emma screamed out the door as he hurried out. She ran after him with Alice crying in her arms. “Christopher!”

But to no avail. She watched her husband disappear into the night, like a nightmare from which there was no awakening.