The Remembered (15 page)

Margaret was the first person that he saw as he neared the cottage. She was going to the well to fill a bucket with water. He watched her for a few moments and was surprised at how lovely she was. He realized that he hadn't really noticed her for a very long time. He sprinted toward her, hoping to surprise her. She looked up when she heard footsteps and was so surprised and filled with joy that she dropped the bucket, spilling its contents.
Richard held open his arms and she rushed into them and threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly. 'Richard,Richard!' she burst out with excitement and then started to cry. Richard smiled and laughed lightly when he saw that her excitement mirrored his own.
'Margaret, it is so nice to see you again,' Richard said as he wiped her eyes. 'Comb, let us get sume more wat'er.'
Still overjoyed with the reunion, Margaret looked about expectantly and asked with excitement, 'Where is Elizabeth then? Is she with you?'
Richard stooped and picked up the bucket. 'Nay,' he replied without looking at her.
His tone concerned Margaret and she took on a more sober mood and asked 'Did you nay find Elizabeth, then?'
'Nay.'
'Was she nay at Trowell? Bromley said that they were going to Trowell.'
'They were nay at Trowell. Only an abandoned cot'age was at Trowell where they shuld have been.'
Margaret stopped and faced Richard. Grabbing his arm with one hand and covering her mouth with the other she gasped, 'nay at Trowell? Where did they go?'
'I do nay know,' replied Richard.
Suddenly the excitement of their reunion dissipated.
'Where did you luk?'
'I luked in many, many villages, and hamlets around Not'ing'am. I also luked in Not'ing'am,' replied Richard in a straight and even tone. Margaret noticed that he seemed to choke a little as he spoke and then he regained control of his emotions.
'I am soory, Richard. You will find 'er in the summer,' she offered hopefully.
Richard took Margaret's arm with one hand and the bucket in the other and motioned her toward the well. As they walked, he said, 'Nay Margaret. I am dune luking. I 'ave prayed to find 'er, I 'ave luked many dees. I 'ave been in rain and snow. I 'ave slept in the woods and beneath rocks. I do nay believe that she can be found. It must nay be God's will. I do nay even know that they are near Not'ing'am. Shuld I search all of me life?'
He was almost sorry that he posed that question and he was hoping that she wouldn't answer it.
'I am soory Richard,' Margaret replied sincerely. 'Per'aps you will feel differently comb summer.'
'Nay, Margaret, me mind is firm. She believes me deed and she must go where her father says. Where that is, I can nay say.'
With the bucket full, they headed back toward the cottage. Richard knew that he would likely be required to repeat this same conversation once inside, but he decided to face it and have it done.
It was a joyous reunion when they entered the cottage. Richard's mother, Gleda, nearly fainted at the sight of him. Geva was thrilled and so was his father, Lind, despite his more tempered response. They were each saddened at the loss of Elizabeth from their lives. They loved her dearly and now it felt as though she were dead. Lind assured Richard that he had done well in looking for her. 'Can you find a sheep's 'air after it has been sheared and mixed with other wool?' asked Lind in a rhetorical way of stating that in a land as large as England, it would be nearly impossible to find someone once they were lost.
Once the loss of Elizabeth had settled on the family, there wasn't much else to say and they retired to their beds. The next morning Geva was excited to share her news.
'Ralf and I are to be married soon,' she excitedly told Richard.
'That is wonderful news,' Richard said and then looking at Lind, 'Does that mean 'e is 'elping on the farm then?'
Geva didn't wait for her father to respond. 'Aye, 'e is and we will live in the sod cot'age,' she said excitedly.
Lind smiled and confirmed the arrangements. 'So, Richard, I will 'ave a sone on the farm yet. You are free to be a glazier.'
This was exactly what Richard wanted to hear, but despite that, he felt as though he was letting his father down.
'Are you sure,' Richard asked sincerely.
'Aye, sone. Boot I am concerned that you will 'ave to move from place to place and we will nay see much of you,' responded Lind.
Richard assured his father that he would return as often as he could. Lind invited Richard to step outside with him. After they were outside, they walked to the back of the cottage near to the cow's enclosure. Lind didn't want to be overheard.
The two men stood at the enclosure, and seemingly watched the cow. Richard thought that he had an idea why they were there.
'Richard,' began Lind, 'you know that Margaret is very fond of you.'
'Aye?,' responded Richard.
'She is a gud woman. She works 'ard and is 'ealthy.'
'Aye, that she is,' was all that Richard offered.
'She has mourned Bromley.'
'Aye?' said Richard in a lower voice as if to say, 'And? Go on.'
'She is pleasing to luk at also.' Richard was a little surprised to hear Lind admit this and he looked at Lind and studied his facial expressions.
'Aye, she surely is,' responded Richard slowly and now looking away from Lind.
'You 'ave known 'er since you were children and she combs from a gud family.'
'Aye, we played together of'en, boot I think that she used to 'it me,' replied Richard with a smile.
With the mood a little lighter, Lind walked away from the enclosure and toward the fields. Richard followed close.
'Aye, and you deserved it,' Lind assured him jokingly. Richard felt good. It had been a long time since he and his father had enjoyed a laugh together. 'If you were to ask 'er to be your wife, she wuld agree,' said Lind, now looking directly into Richard's eyes. The conversation was now serious.
'Father, I am married in the eyes of God and the Church, I can nay take another wife,' responded Richard.
'I spoke with the priest last week and 'e said that you culd 'ave the marriage annulled.'
This struck Richard with a blow. 'Annulled,' he thought, 'that is so final. I can nay do that.  And whot if Elizabeth combs back to Stamford?' asked Richard.
'She 'as been gone for munths. She thinks that you are deed, Richard. She is nay combing back to Stamford.' It pained Richard a little to have his father speak so directly on the subject, but he recognized the same words that he had thought privately.
'Margaret wuld be a gud wife,' said Lind.
'I do nay luv Margaret like I luv Elizabeth,' Richard objected.
'Boot you will, sone,' urged Lind. 'Many men 'ave learned to luv women that they knew less than you know Margaret.'
'I did nay say that I do nay luv 'er, just that I do nay luv 'er like I luv Elizabeth.'
'Aye, I am nay suggesting that you do or shuld, yet. Boot you can and you will sumedee if you try,' promised Lind.
Richard was looking at the ground now, seriously considering Lind's advice. It was not a surprise to him. He had already had the same thoughts. To hear his father speak the words actually helped to validate his own thoughts.
'You need a wife, Richard. Margaret needs a 'usband. I 'ave seen 'ow she luks at you and listens closely to every word that you say. And, by the way, I 'ave not'iced that for years.'
Richard looked up. Had he really been so blind to Margaret as to not notice her interest in him all these years? All he had eyes for was Elizabeth previously, and of course Margaret had been a faithful wife to Bromley. 'Boot, 'ave things now changed?' he wondered privately.
'I will speak with Margaret,' he promised.
'Gud,' replied Lind as he placed a hand on Richard's shoulder. 'Let us go inseed.'
As they walked toward the cottage, annulment suddenly made sense to Richard. If Elizabeth thought him dead, she would likely want to remarry. He needed to get the annulment if for no other reason than to release her from the moral obligation.
Later that morning, Richard asked Margaret to accompany him to Stamford. He needed to visit the priest that had married he and Elizabeth and it would give Margaret the opportunity to visit the market. Richard made up an excuse to visit the church to check on the state of the leaded glass windows.
Richard enjoyed Margaret's company very much. He had forgotten how quick she was to smile and how cheerful her disposition. As they walked along, Margaret playfully stole his cap and ran off with it. He easily caught her and hugged her as he retrieved it.
Leaving Margaret at the market, Richard hurried to the All Saints' Church to find the priest. He found him inside and related the situation to him. The priest was very disappointed, but understanding and told Richard that he would take care of the annulment right away. He said that he had heard of people getting separated and then not being able to find each other again, but hadn't known any personally. He advised Richard to keep the situation relatively quiet so that the suspicions of the sheriff were not aroused. In such cases of missing persons sheriffs had a way of suspecting the worst. Richard thanked him, but assured him that there were plenty of individuals that knew he left before Elizabeth and had seen her after he was gone.
On the walk back to Easton-on-the-hill Richard told Margaret how much he admired her strength since Bromley's death.
'It must 'ave been difficult for you after Bromley deed,' said Richard.
'Aye, I was very sad, boot Lind, Gleda and Geva were very kind,' replied Margaret. 'Sume dees I did nay want to get oot of bed.'
'Do you still miss 'im?'
'Aye, very much. Do you miss Elizabeth?'
'Aye.'
'Per'aps you will find another woman that you will luv as much as Elizabeth.'
'Aye, there is a woman that I do luv, boot she does nay know it,' replied Richard looking at Margaret as they walked.
Margaret returned his glance and then looked away. 'She is indeed fortunate,' Margaret replied.
'I spoke with the priest todee,' said Richard, 'and 'e released Elizabeth's obligation to me.'
Now Margaret looked at Richard and asked, 'Why wuld you do that? Do you really nay expect to see 'er again?'
Richard understood that this sad and unusual situation was difficult for his family to accept. So, despite the fact that he felt he had had this same conversation already, he patiently replied, 'It 'as been munths that she 'as been gone, and she thinks me deed. Do you nay think that she may wish to marry again? 'er father will nay allow 'er to stay in 'is 'ome forever. 'e will offer 'is widowed daughter to another man. 'e may yet 'ave dune so.'
They walked on in silence for a while after that. It felt a little awkward to Richard because he had more to say, but wasn't sure how to say it. Eventually, he stopped Margaret on the road and held her; then the words spilled out of his mouth.
'Margaret, I luv you. I wuld like for you to be me wife.'
It seemed rather awkward and he was sorry that he hadn't chosen his words more carefully, but he didn't know how else to express his feelings.
Margaret smiled broadly and pulled him close to kiss him. 'I wuld luv to be your wife,' she excitedly replied. 'Boot, let us wait a few munths. We do nay know boot Elizabeth may comb back.'
This put Richard in a difficult position. Of course, he hoped that Elizabeth would find him, since he couldn't find her, but he also didn't want Margaret to feel as though she was second choice either. 'Boot,' he thought, 'there is nay a way to escape me feelings for Elizabeth.'
'Aye, you are right, boot then will you be me wife, me luv?' asked Richard.
'Aye, I will,' replied Margaret with a smile.
After a warm embrace, they continued to Easton-on-the-hill, where the news was welcomed with joy.
Richard left the next day for Boston after getting a promise that if, for any reason, she or his family should leave the farm, that she would leave notes along the way as to where they were going and that she would never believe anyone regarding his death. Lind thought it humorous that Richard would be so concerned, but Margaret promised.
Richard promised to return in the coming months and make her his bride.

Lambley, England

August 1438

Thomas drew short, quick breaths as he ran and hurried along the road toward Elizabeth's uncle's cottage. He was in no condition to be hurrying in the manner that he was, especially on a warm August morning. But he was on the most important mission of his life and there was no time to waste. Elizabeth's waters had broken that morning as she struggled up the stairs. Labor pains had also hit her quite suddenly and she had dropped to her knees. Fortunately, she was able to catch herself and avoid a fall. Thomas had helped her back into bed and left right away to get her mother. Thomas hated to leave her as he did, but he had no idea how to deliver a baby.
As he hurried along, he thought about the changes in his and Elizabeth's lives in the last several months.
______
One day in early July as he was helping a customer in the bakery, Elizabeth came slowly down the stairs and the customer had noticed that she was picking her way very carefully.
'Elizabeth, me luv,' said the customer, 'when is that baby due to be born? You luk like you are going to deliver todee.'
Elizabeth held her stomach with both hands and smiled, 'Nay, I will nay 'ave this baby todee. She must stay inseed longer still.'
'e,' replied Thomas with a smile. Elizabeth and the customer looked at him with a puzzled look. 'You said 'she', boot it is a boy,' Thomas assured them.
Elizabeth smiled and offered to help the next customer. Thomas enjoyed having Elizabeth working beside him in the bakery. For years he had worked alone, but now it was wonderful to have someone to talk to and someone to help with the baking. But, making it more wonderful still, his partner was his wife. He loved watching her serve the customers. She was so friendly and she easily endeared customers to her. He had noticed that business had picked up since she was with him.
Thomas came up behind her, wrapped his arms around Elizabeth and said, 'Me luv, I must take sume wheat to the miller. Will you be okay while I am gone?'
'Aye, me luv,' replied Elizabeth as she turned around in his arms and hugged him around the neck. 'I will be fine.'
Thomas left the bakery with a load of wheat in the wagon and started toward the miller's. As he walked beside the ox, he started thinking about Elizabeth and the comments by the customer. 'If Elizabeth gets much bigger, I will nay be able to wrap me arms around 'er. The baby must be very large indeed.' As he thought about the comment that the customer made though, he became more troubled. He remembered that he knew nothing of Elizabeth prior to the short while before they married. 'Who was she really?' he wondered, and, 'Culd this baby possibly nay be me own?' 'Did I marry in haste?'
The thoughts troubled him greatly and he couldn't rid himself of them. When he returned from the miller's, Elizabeth noticed a change in his mood. His mood was dark and unhappy. That was not like him. Elizabeth approached him from behind and put her arms around him.
'Whot is it, me luv? You do nay seem 'appy,' said Elizabeth.
Thomas pulled away from her and walked to an oven to put more wood inside. Elizabeth was sure that he had done so to get away from her embrace and it troubled her. She remembered no so long before when she still recoiled from his touch and now she felt rejected. The rejection pained her and caused her to consider the pain that she must have once caused Thomas.
'It is nuthing, I am fine,' replied Thomas without looking at her.
'You do nay seem fine, me luv,' Elizabeth patiently replied.
Thomas went about his work without speaking, a customer came into the shoppe and Elizabeth went to help her.
They didn't speak the rest of the day or the next day. Elizabeth noticed also that Thomas was no longer touching her and it hurt her deeply. For the first time in months, she found herself thinking of Richard and it troubled her. 'Why am I thinking of a deed man?' she thought to herself, 'Thomas is me 'usband.' The thoughts of Richard troubled her and she started to withdraw from Thomas.
Elizabeth didn't know what to do. She knew that she didn't want to speak with her mother about it, and she really had no close friends outside of Thomas. 'Besides,' she thought, 'it wuld nay be right to speak with a friend aboot me troubles with me 'usband.' So, she did the only other thing that she could think of, she went to the church to pray.
When she left the bakery without telling Thomas where she was going, he became suspicious. She had always told him where she was going before. After she left, he quickly closed the shoppe and followed her. It didn't take long for him to realize where she was going. After she entered the church, he crept into the back and watched as she knelt to pray. He then felt guilty for thinking ill of her for this secret errand and he quietly left the church and returned to the shoppe.
As Elizabeth knelt in the church, she felt that she hadn't been as good a wife as she should have been. The struggles of a pregnancy had distracted her. She felt guilty for thinking of Richard.
'Dear God,' she prayed, 'please forgive me for thinking of sumeone other than me 'usband. Please grant me the power to luv Thomas despite his un'appiness. 'e is a gud man. 'e works 'ard and cares for me well. I know that 'e will be a gud father. Please sof'en 'is 'eart and lift 'is mood. I made a promise to Thomas and a promise to you. 'elp me to keep it. Amen'
Thomas noticed that Elizabeth smiled at him when she walked back into the shoppe, but he didn't respond. He felt horrible inside for the way that he was treating her, but he couldn't change his mood and the thought that she may have been unfaithful persisted to haunt him.
The next day, Thomas decided that he needed to speak with someone, but who? Elizabeth's uncle was his best friend, but he couldn't speak with him on this subject. 'Maybe I shuld see the priest,' he thought. 'Nay, I do nay want 'im to think ill of Elizabeth.' Then he determined that he would seek the counsel of the priest in the next village, whom he didn't know.
Thomas told Elizabeth that he needed to purchase some additional wheat and hitched the ox to the wagon. She thought that this was odd, since they seemed to have plenty of wheat, but since this was the first he had spoken in days, she accepted it with a nod and quick smile.
Thomas found the priest in the next village working in his garden.
'Oy,' he greeted the priest and then realized that was probably too causal of a greeting for a priest. 'I am soory for me rudeness. Please forgive me.'
The old priest slowly stood, complaining all the while about his sore back and knees. He didn't seem to notice the causal greeting.
'Gud dee to you, me sone. Whot brings you to see me on this fine, warm dee?'
'Forgive me, boot I am troubled and need to speak with sumone,' Thomas said after removing his cap.
'Aye, you luk troubled. You are nay from this village. 'ave you no priest in your village?'
'Aye, there is soch a priest, boot I do nay wish to speak with 'im on the matter that troubles me.'
'Comb with me sone,' the priest said as he walked slowly toward the church.
The priest led Thomas to the old church. It was a small church with a short square steeple. The walls inside had been plastered and painted white.
After they sat down in the back of the church near the steeple end, the priest said, 'Whot troubles you, me sone?'
Thomas looked down at his feet and did not speak. This was the first time that he had sought the advice of a priest and he felt uncomfortable. He had been raised to believe that a man should solve his own problems. The old priest was well acquainted with this attitude and waited patiently. Then to put Thomas at ease, he said 'Sone, I do know that it is 'ard for a man to speak of his troubles. Boot, let me tell you privately, plen'hy of them do.'
Then the priest ventured, 'Is there trouble at 'ome?'
Thomas was taken aback that the priest seemed to know his thoughts.
'Aye,' was all that Thomas offered.
'ow long 'ave you been married then?' asked the priest.
'That is the problem,' replied Thomas.
'Whot is the problem?' asked the priest with a puzzled looked on his face.
'I 'ave nay been married long enuf,' replied Thomas, still looking at his feet.
'Well,' laughed the priest, 'time will certainly take care of that then.'
'Me wife is 'aving a baby soon.'
'That is wonderful. Praise be to God.'
Thomas looked up for the first time and now the priest could see that he had tears in his eyes.
'We 'ave nay been married that long. I do nay believe that the child is mine.'
'I see,' said the priest in a more serious tone, 'ow long did you know your wife before you married?'
'I did nay know 'er long, only a fortnight.'
'Do you luv 'er?'
'Aye, greatly.'
'Does she luv you as well?'
'Aye, she does,' replied Thomas. The priest could tell based on the tone that he used that he felt her love deeply.
'ave you asked 'er if the child is yours?'
Thomas was feeling very uncomfortable with the conversation now and so he stood and paced the floor.
'I culd nay do that,' he replied. 'it wuld 'urt 'er.'
'Do you suppose that you culd only luv the child if you knew that you were the father?'
Thomas didn't answer right away. He wasn't sure of what his answer would be. The priest continued, 'Do you 'ave any children of your own yet?'
'Nay.'
'Do you 'ave any nephews or nieces?'
'Aye,' replied Thomas with a smile.
'And do you luv them?'
'Aye, of course I luv them, they are me family.'
'Boot you are nay the father,' observed the priest. 'If their father were deed, culd you nay raise them and luv them as your own flesh and blood?
'Aye, of course I culd,' Thomas responded with conviction.
'Then it does nay matter whether a child is your flesh and blood, you culd luv them as though they were?'
'Aye,' Thomas admitted. The priest was starting to make a lot of sense to Thomas and already he could feel his burden being lifted.
'Does she treat you well?'
'Aye, she is the most wonderful wife. God sent 'er to me.'
'And do you treat her well?'
'Aye, except for the last sevrule dees. Otherwise, I certainly try. I think of 'er all of the time,' replied Thomas. The thought of Elizabeth brought a smile to his face for the first time in days.
'Did you ask aboot 'er past prior to marrying 'er?' asked the priest.
'Nay, it did nay seem important at the time,' Thomas responded.
'Boot it now seems important?' questioned the priest.
'Aye, it did before I came to see you, boot nay so much now.'
'Wuld you have your marriage annulled?'
The question shocked Thomas. Of course he would not want to have his marriage annulled. 'Nay!' Thomas almost blurted out the word.
'Then whot does it matter?' reasoned the priest. 'Sone, you need to pray to 'ave your 'eart 'ealed. Luv your wife, care for her, keep the commitment that you made to her and to God.'
Thomas realized that his thinking had been clouded. He had accepted Elizabeth as she was when he married her. He knew that she didn't come into the marriage of her own will and that it had taken time for her to learn to love him, but she had. 'ow culd I be so blind?' he asked himself.
'I am grateful to you,' Thomas said to the priest. 'I will.'
He left the priest and went straight into the main part of the church and knelt to pray.
'Dear God,' he prayed, 'please forgive me for me unkindness to me wife. Please grant me the power to luv Elizabeth and 'er child. She is a gud woman. She works 'ard and cares for me greatly. I know that she will be a gud mum. Please sof'en me 'eart and lift me spirit. I made a promise to Elizabeth and a promise to you. 'elp me to keep it. Amen'
As Thomas stood to leave, he felt as though a huge burden had been lifted. He now had a clear perspective and outlook. He quickly left the church and led his ox and wagon back to Lambley.
Elizabeth was serving a customer when he entered the bakery, but that didn't stop him from walking right up to her and hugging her from behind. The customer smiled and Elizabeth blushed.
'Me luv,' said Thomas, 'please forgive me for me be'avior. I am so soory.'
'I forgive you,' said Elizabeth, 'boot you 'ave be'aved poorly.'
'Aye, I 'ave, and I am soory.'
'Do we need to talk aboot it?' asked Elizabeth.
'Nay, I am fine now,' replied Thomas.
Elizabeth could see the wagon from where she stood and observed that there was no wheat in it.
'And where is the wheat?' she asked.
'Oh, I forgot the wheat, oh well, I did nay really need any,' Thomas confessed.
'Then where 'ave you been, while I 'ave been minding the shoppe?'
Thomas could not see anyway out of telling her that he had been to speak with a priest. He also thought it better to be honest with his wife.
'Your 'usband is a weak man, me luv. I 'ave been visiting with a priest in the village next.'
Elizabeth studied his eyes and facial expression trying to decide how far to push him. She was curious as to where he had been, but wherever he had been had done him good. 'Boot why wuld 'e need to speak with a priest?' she wondered, 'boot 'as 'e been faithful?'
'You are nay a weak man, Thomas,' she replied. 'If you needed to speak with a priest, it was the right thing to do.'
Thomas sensed her concern with him visiting with the priest and quickly stated, 'Me luv, I 'ave been completely faithful to you and always will be.'
Elizabeth was greatly relieved. She held him close, but their embrace was interrupted by another customer.