Red Deception (6 page)

“Actually I am not… I should lie down,” she said, rising to her feet.

Blacwin stood and watched her with concern. “Shall I assist you to your room?”

“No, I can manage.”

“Shall I send someone to examine you?”

Judith just shook her head and walked from the hall without another word, feeling panic surging through her.

I must escape, but where do I go?
Her mind cried.

She began to run toward her room, her legs threatening to give out on her.

Once they find out I am not truly Lora, will they think I took her life? Would the baron hear my plea of innocence or would he throw me in a dark dungeon cell for the rest of my life?

In safety of her chamber, she locked the doors behind her. The room became a blur as she crumbled to the ground and burst into a teary fit.
She missed her son, and even her husband. She wished she never put on Lora’s red dress. She wished she could turn back time. She prayed for forgiveness, but she knew not even prayer could save her...it never did.

Hours passed. She sobbed, paced and cursed, but no sound solution came to her. Insane thoughts danced through her mind, killing herself, killing her husband, killing Lora’s father. Her only sound choices were to tell the truth, or run. She yearned to tell the baron the truth, but every time she went to do it, she turned away from the door in fear of what he might say.

She remained alone for most the evening, and a knock finally erupted on the door. She did not have to ask who it was. She sat before the flickering hearth, feeling emotionally numb.

“Come in,” she answered.

Blacwin tried opening the door, but it was locked. “Lora? Are you well?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and willed herself to answer. “Yes.”

“Will you be joining me in the solar tonight?”

“Not tonight,” she answered as a fresh tear slipped from the corner of her eye.”

“Open the door. I must see you.”
“I am resting.”

“Lora, it is not a request.”

She walked to the door, unlocked it, and let it swing open slowly.

His look of concern caused her eyes to tear up again.

“You’re crying…”

He reached out to touch her cheek.

She turned her face away. “Please, don’t. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“It’s because your father is coming isn’t it?” He stepped inside the room and closed the door. “If you two are truly so bitter I will not welcome him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she sobbed, watching the flames dance in the hearth.

“Lora, there is more to this than you are telling me.”

She grimaced with her back turned to him. “I cannot tell you.”

“Why? You do not trust me with your secrets?”

“Of course I do!” She yelled, wishing she could just confess.

“Then what is it?”

“You don’t know me. He does not know me. No one does.”

“What do you mean?”

I am not his daughter you dolt! I am not Lora Noire!
She wanted to shout.

“I’ve not been honest, Cal. I need to think of a way to tell you the truth.”

He frowned. “Lora, I will not judge you. Did he force himself upon you?”

“No! Please stop confronting me about him. He did nothing!”

The baron looked confused and released her hand.

“I will be in the hall for my father’s arrival, tomorrow. I will tell you afterwards.”

“Promise me,” he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

Tears threatened to flood her gaze. “Goodnight Cal.”

“Promise me.”

It took every ounce of resistance not to fall into his arms, sobbing, and tell him the truth. She knew it would not end well. This fantasy, no matter how sweet, was at its end.

“I promise.”

He left the room and she covered her face, shaking with more heavy sobs.

Chapter 4

Just before the sun crested the mountains to the east, Judith dressed and crept down the hall to the rear of the manor.  She recalled how the stable met the exterior wall. By climbing an old ladder by the stable, she was able to reach the ivy and climbing weeds that snaked over the top of the manor wall. She used them like ropes to her lower herself to the safety of the opposite side.

Her palms burned and bled by the time her feet met the underbrush. She turned around to find herself in the mouth of the peaceful Caldwell forest, a place she once sought comfort, now felt dark and foreboding.  She wandered helplessly through the forest, stumbling through the thick trees until she found a path. It was the road to Caldwell.  She turned back in the direction of the manor and tears choked her. She would miss him.

As
she walked along the road, the dangers of bandits and hungry animals watching her kept her almost as uneasy as going back to Garreth and his parents.  Before long, she was standing before the cottage.

No one will ever hurt you again.  
His voice rang out in her memory. That promise had been made to Lora Noire, not to her.

She grabbed her chest as the door opened suddenly and her husband stood before her, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

She did not know whether to smile or frown. “Garreth.”

“Judith, my Judith, you’re alive!”  He squeezed her against him. “You are truly alive. Thank God! Where have you been?”

She grasped onto him and closed her eyes, unable to speak. Where had she been? The truth sounded too surreal to be believed.

The shrill scream of her son as he came running at her with his arms outstretched interrupted her answer.

“Mummy!”

She knelt and took Sam into her arms. “Sam!”

The thought of the sorrow she put her son through made her heart heavy.

“Mummy, I missed you so much. Are you hurt?” he asked against her ear.

She kissed his dirty cheeks. “No. I am quite all right, Sam.”

“Where were you Mummy?”

Looking into her sons innocent eyes made her all the more guilty.

“Lost,” she whispered. “I was lost.”

***

Her welcome was short. She sat down to the morning meal and was greeted with a sneer by her father-in-law.

“We thought you had up and died on us. You were probably hiding in the woods this whole time, wanting us to worry, you little witch.”

She looked to Garreth, who ignored his father’s comment.

“I was lost in the woods.”

“Lost.” Her mother-in-law snorted. “You’re lucky to be alive. I have fallen behind on just about everything without you here, Judith.”

“I’m sorry.”

 “We’re out of flour,” she complained, ladling some watery pottage into Judith’s bowl. “We won’t have any bread tonight.”

After eating such wonderful food at the manor, the pottage tasted like pig slop.

“How did you get lost, Mummy?” Sam asked, slurping his pottage.

Judith took a deep breath and glanced down at her spoon. “I ran into some bandits.”

Garreth lowered his bowl. “Bandits?”

“Yes. They were passing through the wood. I went to fetch water and they tried to kill me but I ran.”

“Shame they didn’t catch you,” Bart grumbled in his bowl.

Judith shot him a glare.

“Did they harm you?” Gertrude asked.

“No. They wanted my possession, so I gave them all I had.”

“I’m sure you gave them that and more,” her father-in-law chuckled.
“What did they look like?” Sam asked.

“They were ugly dog-faced men, with fat bellies and rusty daggers,” she answered.

Sam’s eyes grew wide and pottage dribbled down his chin.

“That’s a fine dress you’re wearing, Judith,” her mother-in-law observed.

“It was given to me by a stranger in the wood. The bandits took my clothing.”

“It will fetch a fine shilling in the market. Hurry and take it off, so we can sell it.”

 “I would like to keep it.”

“Nonsense! That will pay for our food and more. Take it off.”

Judith swallowed her anger and left the table to change.

She climbed up to the loft that reeked of molded hay.

As she untied the lace bodice of the dress, silent tears trickled down her cheeks. Why had she chosen to return? Was it because she could not face the baron, or face the truth of what she had done?  The truth seemed less frightening as she stood in the barren loft. The baron might have been angry with her, but she would have rather faced his anger, or lived a life in servitude, or died in a dungeon cell rather than live in servitude to the Timbolt family. She wished she would have run away from Caldwell, perhaps to another town, but the thought of her son drew her home. She could not bear to leave Sam.

She laid the beautiful dress aside and changed into one of her old dresses, quickly reacquainting herself with the discomfort of the scratchy wool.

Climbing back down from the loft, she was greeted by a table with dirty bowls left for her to clean. She tended to them and then took the leftovers to the pigs.

They grunted and snorted as they feasted on the molded bread, stale pottage and rotting vegetables. She covered her mouth as the scent of defecation gagged her.

She wandered away from the pigsty and saw her husband chopping firewood.

He held the axe in mid-air when she approached as if he expected her to say something. She wondered if he really cared about her safe return.

“Judith, I’ve been meaning to speak to you.”

“Yes?”

“They found a woman’s body in the woods, near the stream. Everyone thought it was you at first, since you had gone missing. She was wearing your dress. But it was not you; she was beautiful, a true flawless maiden. How did she get your dress? Did you… kill her?”

Insulted, Judith stammered, “K-kill her? How can you think I could be capable of killing anyone? It must have been a dress similar to mine.”

“She wore
your
dress. I know it was your dress, the stains were the same.”

Heat burned her cheeks. “I told you, I know nothing. My clothing was stolen. Your mother is going to have a fit if I don’t get back to my chores.”