A Girl of White Winter Read online

  So I whispered, “I do not know.”

  Before I knew what was happening, he grasped my chin and forced me to look up at him. Though his grip did not hurt, he allowed me to feel some of the strength in his hand. His eyes were a shade of light brown.

  “What do you mean you don’t know? If you’re the de Marcos’ ward, how is that possible?” He didn’t sound angry, only confused. “Who was your mother?”

  Wanting him to let me go, I tried to meet his gaze and answered, “Lady Giselle’s maid.”

  He let go and stepped back.

  I hadn’t told him the whole truth, but enough to give him an understanding. No matter what Giselle called me, I was the illegitimate child of a servant.

  I was no one, not worth his attention.

  Whirling, I hurried for the west stairwell.

  * * * *

  The next morning, Lady Giselle sent word to my room, informing me I would be expected at breakfast, but I was not concerned. By now, Royce would have told his father of my low status, and they would not notice me. Besides, the men would be focused on the land deal, not upon any women at the table.

  I wore my hair down and donned a muslin dress of a shade my lady called ice blue, the same color as my eyes. All of the day dresses or evening gowns she had made for me were either white or this same shade of light blue. She said the colors suited me, and she sometimes enjoyed dressing me and trying different styles with my hair.

  My own private room was near to Lady Giselle’s apartments, and as I reached her door, I found it open, suggesting she had already gone down.

  “My lady?” I asked from the doorway.

  Silence told me she was not there.

  Quickly, I made my way to the stairwell and descended to the main floor. Upon arriving at the dining hall, I found everyone from last night had already gathered—with the exception of Lucas and Geoffrey. Would they not be attending? Perhaps they were not necessary for the business dealings this morning.

  Then why had I been asked?

  Royce stood apart with his arms crossed, and he appeared to be watching the archway as I entered. At the sight of me, he went still and gave me the same fixed attention from last night, taking in my long silver-blond hair and light blue gown. But this morning, I was beginning to recognize the expression on his face; it looked like hunger.

  “She’s here,” he said. “We can begin.”

  Two things about these statements puzzled me. First, was he the one who’d requested my presence this morning? Why? And second…breakfast had not even been served yet. Did he wish to conduct the business dealing before eating?

  Lord Jean seemed equally nonplussed, but he gestured to the table. “By all means.”

  I could see that he didn’t care when or how these dealings took place, so long as he acquired the land.

  Walking over, I greeted my lady and sat beside her. Lord Trey and Royce sat across from us, and Lord Jean took his place at the head.

  As of yet, we’d not even been served tea.

  Lord Jean began immediately. “I’ll pay two thousand in silver for the land. That’s more than what it’s worth and a fair offer.”

  Royce studied him. “I’m willing to take fifteen hundred.” Then he motioned to me with his head. “But I want the girl.”

  I went cold.

  Lord Trey turned to his son in open surprise.

  Lord Jean frowned.

  Lady Giselle stiffened, and she spoke first. “My lord,” she said to Royce. “I don’t understand. You cannot be asking for Kara’s hand as you already have a wife. You were married eight years ago, and to the best of my knowledge, the lady Loraine still lives.”

  Royce turned his cold gaze upon her. “You need not remind me of my marital status.”

  Lord Jean’s frown deepened. “Then what are you asking?”

  Royce leaned back in his chair. “I want the girl.”

  At this, all polite pretense vanished from my lady’s voice. “As what? Your mistress? You’ll set her up in some cottage near your manor until you grow tired of her? I think not!”

  They spoke as if I weren’t there.

  Lord Trey raised one hand to her and addressed his son. “This girl? You’re certain?”

  Royce nodded, but the brief exchange only increased the confusion in Lord Jean’s expression.

  Lord Trey sighed. “What my son suggests is not so shocking as it first sounds. We are more…modern at the Capello estate. Your ward would hold a position of honor, and she would reside with us, in her own rooms, at the manor. She would have a place in the family.”

  “As his mistress?” my lady demanded. “No.”

  “Giselle!” Lord Jean barked, perhaps trying to take control of the conversation.

  Royce shrugged. “The girl is of no birth. She cannot remain your ward forever, and this is a good offer.”

  I remained frozen, but beside me, I could hear my lady’s quick breaths.

  “Kara is the daughter of my brother,” she said. “She is my blood.”

  All three men were taken aback, but I knew Lord Jean’s response was one of embarrassment. This truth had never been spoken outside her rooms.

  For just an instant, Royce’s face flickered, and then he shook his head. “It is of no matter. She’s of no name and no house.”

  My lady’s hand clenched into a fist, but Lord Jean broke in, this time speaking directly to Lord Trey. “My lord, you can see the attachment my wife has for the girl. Surely, some other arrangement can be made in exchange for the land. I would offer twenty-five hundred pieces of silver.”

  Royce leaned forward in his chair, addressing Lord Jean. “There will be no further bargaining here. I’ll take fifteen hundred in silver for the land. But if you don’t agree to my terms, I won’t sell to you. And since I find myself in need of funds, I’ll sell the land to someone else.” He paused to let the effect of his threat sink in. Then he repeated slowly, “I want the girl.”

  A long moment of silence followed, and then Lord Jean looked to Lady Giselle. “Get her packed.”

  My lady shot to her feet. “No!” Reaching out, she took my hand and pulled me up. “We will be in my apartments until these gentlemen leave.”

  Needing no urging from her, I gripped her hand and we fled from the hall.

  * * * *

  Once she and I were alone in her apartments, her anger began to fade and I could see fear in her eyes. The sight of this was more terrifying than anything that had transpired downstairs.

  “Don’t let them take me,” I said.

  But before she could answer, the door to her apartments opened, and Lord Jean stood on the other side with two of our house guards behind him. Upon seeing the guards, Giselle went pale.

  As Lord Jean stepped inside the room, she shouted at him. “This is your fault! You were the one who insisted she be at the table last night to create a distraction and put them off their game.”

  His expression was difficult to read. I’d never once heard her speak to him in any other tone than polite deference. He appeared both angry and uncomfortable.

  “They’ve promised me she’ll be treated well,” he said.

  “Promised?” she cried. “And what good is that? You know nothing of Royce Capello. For all you know, he keeps a riding crop under his bed.”

  Lord Jean took a step back. “Don’t be vulgar.”

  “Vulgar? Me? You stand there and say that when you are giving our girl away to be some nobleman’s whore!”

  His discomfort increased, but so did his anger. “She is not our girl.”

  I stood pressed against a wall, and she suddenly went slack in despair. “Please, my lord. Don’t do this. Don’t take her from me. I could not bear it.”

  He appeared to waver, and hope rose inside me. In his own way, he loved her. He cared for her feelings.
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  But then, his expression hardened again. “I have no choice. I’ve paid the fifteen hundred, and the deed will be sent. A maid is packing Kara’s things now, and the Capellos are making ready to leave.” Striding over, he gripped my upper arm but spoke only to her. “You will remain here until they are gone. I’ll leave men to watch over you.”

  With that, he dragged me forward. I struggled to pull away, but I don’t think he noticed.

  When we reached the door, my lady spoke from behind us.

  “I’ll never forgive you for this, Jean. Do you understand what that means? I won’t forgive you.”

  Again, he wavered.

  Then he dragged me out the door.

  * * * *

  Down in the courtyard, I saw my trunk being lifted into the back of a wagon, which was already half-filled with the Capellos’ trunks and supplies. A maid from the house came to me and wrapped a cloak around my shoulders, but I was too numb to respond or thank her.

  I could not believe what was happening.

  Lord Trey and Royce’s horses were saddled, and their six guards were making ready to leave. One of our own guards led a white mare from the stables…with a sidesaddle.

  The sight of this made me fear I would faint.

  At the look on my face, Royce frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  Lord Jean’s brows knitted and then smoothed. “Oh, Kara has never been on…She’s never ridden a horse.”

  “How is that possible?”

  Shifting his weight between his feet, Lord Jean answered. “Because she’s never been off the manor grounds. She’s rarely been outside the house. You must understand that my lady has kept her…sheltered.”

  Silence followed, and even in my frightened state, I sensed there was a good deal taking place beneath this conversation. I simply did not know what.

  “You could have her ride in the wagon beside your driver?” Lord Jean suggested.

  “No,” Royce answered. “I’ll lead her horse.”

  Turning, he gripped my waist and lifted me as if I weighed nothing, setting me into the saddle. Then he mounted his own horse and drew up beside me, lifting the reins over my mount’s head and gripping them in his left hand.

  As opposed to reassuring me, this act only made me feel more trapped.

  Five of their guards sat on horses. The sixth drove the wagon. The guards wore sheathed swords, but Trey and Royce did not.

  I cast a pleading look at Lord Jean, but he turned away. My horse lurched forward, and I gripped her mane. Within moments, I found myself outside the gates of our manor for the first time in my life, in the company of strangers.

  I was not even allowed to tell Lady Giselle good-bye.

  Chapter Two

  My fear of Royce—combined with having been forced onto the back of a horse—was soon overridden by a fear of the open sky and the vineyards stretching all around us. Everything seemed to go on forever. The sights made me dizzy and sick to my stomach, and I gripped the horse’s mane tighter.

  Where were we going? Could I find my way back?

  Although Royce rode slightly ahead of me, gripping the reins of my horse, he did not speak and glanced back at me only occasionally. His expression was impassive, as if he felt nothing.

  The six guards ignored me.

  Lord Trey was the only man to appear visibly unsettled, and when he looked at me, his expression conveyed a mix of concern, alarm, and pity. Through his eyes, the reality of my situation began to sink in. Lord Jean had traded me for a piece of land. I had been taken from my home and now belonged to Royce Capello. Lady Giselle had promised to keep me safe, but she had been unable to stop this. I’d always viewed her as my protector, someone with power in a world where I possessed none.

  Had my vision of her been an illusion?

  Though I couldn’t gauge how much time had passed, at what I guessed to be mid-day, we left the seemingly endless vineyards behind and traveled down a narrow road lined on both sides by a forest of trees covered in yellow and red leaves. Long branches reached over the road and intertwined with branches of trees from the other side, creating a kind of tunnel. For some reason, this helped me to feel calmer, not so exposed.

  “We should pause for a short rest,” said Lord Trey.

  The guards pulled in their horses. Royce dismounted and reached up, gripping my waist and lifting me down. The physical relief was immediate, as my right hip had begun to hurt from the sidesaddle.

  “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll bring food and water.”

  In autumn, the day was cold, and I stood shivering inside my cloak as he walked toward the wagon bearing luggage and supplies. Quickly, his father moved to join him, and when they both reached the wagon, Lord Trey reached out and grasped Royce’s arm.

  “Stop.”

  They were a good twenty paces away, and Trey’s voice was low, but I could still hear him.

  “What?” Royce asked, his tone not inviting an answer.

  “There’s still time to turn around. This is madness. Take her back.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t possibly mean to bring her into our household?” Trey’s tone was incredulous now.

  “You’re the one who’s been after me to choose a companion.”

  “A skilled courtesan! Someone who could be of assistance. That girl has no education, no conversation, no experiences outside of Lady’s Giselle’s apartments, and in case you hadn’t noticed, she’s terrified of you.”

  Royce turned to face him. “After eight years with Loraine, does it surprise you that I’d choose someone more biddable?”

  Trey’s voice rose. “You know how isolated the de Marcos live. You’ve seen how Jean keeps Giselle away from society and neglects her at the same time. From what I could see last night and this morning, that girl is her only companion, and you…you, who could have any woman, would make claim on Giselle’s one comfort?” He paused. “This is an impulse on your part, and you’ll regret it. Take the girl back.”

  His words brought me hope.

  Without responding, Royce dug through a burlap sack, removed a few objects, and turned away from his father, walking toward me. My flicker of hope died. Royce was not going to take me home.

  Approaching, he carried an apple and a biscuit—with a canteen on a cord draped over his wrist.

  “Here,” he said, handing me the apple. “It’s not much and we have a good distance to go, but there will be a decent supper waiting for us at home.”

  Home.

  My home was falling farther and farther behind. But he was trying to be kind, and I was hungry, having eaten no breakfast. So, I took the apple.

  “Thank you.”

  My voice sounded small, and his gaze passed over my face. Then he uncorked the canteen and held it out. I took a long drink, grateful for the water.

  “Can we eat while we ride, my lord?” the eldest of the guards asked. “As it is, we’re not going to make the manor before dark.”

  Trey came walking back, carrying an apple of his own. He offered Royce a questioning look. “Forward or backward.”

  Royce gripped my waist and lifted me onto the mare. “Forward.”

  Lord Trey sighed.

  We rode on. I tried to eat my apple with one hand while gripping my mount’s mane with the other, but I managed only a few bites.

  The tunnel of yellow and orange trees gave way to a dense forest of evergreens. Their branches did not reach across the road, and once more, this gave me a view of the open sky. Again…I felt exposed. The same inexplicable fear began rising. I understood why I feared both Royce and the horse, but I didn’t understand why I feared the open sky. Forcing myself to focus, I noted the sun sinking in the sky to my left. Though I’d never had an opportunity to practice navigating the four directions, I made note that we were traveling south. This knowledge spurred me
to pay attention. Should any opportunity arise, I must to be able to find my way home.

  We stopped once at a stream to water the horses, but Royce did not dismount—and so neither did I. We pressed on.

  Hours passed.

  The discomfort in my right hip grew into pain. I tried shifting in the saddle several times, but nothing helped. The sun dipped low, and dusk approached.

  “Another stop,” Lord Trey called.

  He was riding behind us, and Royce turned with an annoyed expression, as if to argue, but his father cut him off.

  “Look at the girl. She’s nearly done in.”

  Royce looked at me. I must have made a pitiful sight because he pulled up his horse and swung his leg over before hopping to the ground. Then he lifted me from the saddle to stand beside him. This time, he had to hold me up for a few moments before I could stand on my own.

  Trey and the guards all dismounted as well, walking around to stretch their legs. No one complained at Lord Trey having forced a halt. I was grateful for the respite and accepted the canteen from Royce when he offered it. The water was stale, but it quenched my thirst.

  “Not far now,” he said.

  His words brought no comfort. What was waiting for me ahead? I would be alone, without my lady, in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people—and no one who loved me. I was in no hurry to be lifted back into the saddle.

  After far too short a break, the same guard who’d spoken at our lunch stop began heading for his horse. Looking over his shoulder, he spoke to Lord Trey. “We should get moving, my lord. I don’t like the idea of passing through this forest at night.”

  Trey nodded and said. “Royce, perhaps the girl could ride straddle behind you for the remainder of the way? At least she could lean on you to rest.”

  My name is Kara.

  None of them ever used my name.

  “Yes,” Royce answered him, turning to lift me once again.

  His hands never reached my waist.

  In that same instant, something whizzed through the air and struck the shoulder of a guard standing near us.

  An arrow.

  The man dropped, and Royce whirled.

  More arrows flew from several directions, striking the guards’ shoulders and thighs. Most men were hit multiple times. The man up on the wagon grabbed a sword from beside him on the bench and jumped down, as if looking for someone to fight.