Her mother had comforted her then, but there was no one now. After what seemed like hours, she ran out of tears. She was exhausted, too tired to care, too numb to feel anything. She finished dressing and decided she might as well report for duty. Before she left she tidied up the bed and put her spare clothes away. A small slip of parchment fell behind the bedside table unnoticed as she picked up the nightgown.
She found Miri and told her she was ready for work, hoping that the head maid wouldn’t be too angry with how late she had slept.
“No problem lass, you did well yesterday and we had you running till well after everyone else was snug a’bed.” The older woman seemed genuinely grateful, “If you’ll run down to the laundry and give them a hand there for a bit I’d be glad of it.” Miri’s orders always sounded like requests, as superiors went she was nicer than most.
Penny was glad to do it, anything to keep herself busy. She kept herself moving, working the rest of the day in a mad rush, desperate not to remember. No matter how she worked though, her mind kept going back to it every time she let it stray. The worst came that afternoon, she had to take fresh sheets up to the guests' rooms. Every step filled her with dread and she prayed that one particular occupant would be absent.
As luck would have it he was not in the room. She changed the sheets as quickly as possible yet she could not help but notice the blood on them, as well as a torn section that must match her bandage. She was out of the room in less than five minutes and her heart was still pounding when she reached the stairs. Thinking herself safe at last she almost ran headlong into Devon as he came up the stairs.
She came close to dropping everything and bolting, but Penny was made of sterner mettle than that. She clenched her fists, gripping the bundle of linens and made her face a mask of indifference. She had already passed him on the stair when she heard his voice, “Penny.” She stopped, refusing to turn back toward him.
“Don’t think matters are finished between us,” Devon’s voice was like ice. “Last night was just the beginning. I’ll see your blacksmith’s son cold and dead before this is over. You have my word on that.” She could feel his eyes on her back, and fear held her heart in an iron grip. In her mind she saw Mordecai lying in a field, his body broken, blood running from his nose and mouth, as he struggled to breath. Devon stood over him smiling, murder in his eyes. The vision was so powerful it made her gasp, and she knew instinctively that it would come to pass. Rage built in her, a raw animal fury, without thought she whirled, throwing the bundled laundry ahead of her. Perhaps it would distract him for a second. A second was all she needed, she would pull him down. If the fall didn’t kill him she would finish the job herself.
“Hey now! There’s no call for that!” Devon was already gone and standing where he had been was Marcus, looking surprised. The sheets had struck him full in the face and now lay scattered across the stairs. The anger that had filled her with strength drained away as speedily as it had appeared, leaving her empty. She almost lost her balance then, but Marc’s hand caught her shoulder steadying her balance. “Are you ok Penny?” His voice sounded concerned.
“Yes, yes I’m fine. I’m just not myself today.” Words were inadequate to describe just how not herself today she truly was.
“I won’t ask about the laundry, then, I can guess who made you so angry,” he jerked his head in the direction that Devon must have left in. “I wanted to talk to you anyway Penny. There are some things you need to know.”
She looked at his face, surprised at the seriousness she found there. Marc was normally the most easy going of her friends. “What is it?”
Marc took a few minutes to describe what had happened at the reception the day before. Detailing the trouble he felt was facing Mordecai. She nodded dumbly, it all made sense. He continued, “Penny you have to understand how dangerous that man is… he doesn’t understand jokes and he doesn’t tolerate insubordination. If he had been standing where I was when that laundry came flying at me, things would have gone ill for you. Worse, if he finds out you are associated with me or Mordecai he will try to use you to get at us. Do you understand?”
He’s already used me Marcus. Used me and tossed me away, she thought. “What can I do to help?” she said instead.
“Nothing Penny, I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you. Just keep your head and above all else don’t let him find out about our friendship, as long as he doesn’t think you are connected to me or Mort you should be safe.” His earnestness almost brought her to tears again.
“Sure, I’ll try to avoid talking to you or Mort.” she answered.
“It’ll only be a few more days, then he’ll be on his way,” Marc tried to reassure her. He could see there were some deep emotions behind her face. He had probably offended her, but it would have to wait. He would apologize later, once Devon Tremont was safely away from Lancaster. Then they could all relax.
I woke early, well… in the early afternoon. I hadn’t gone to sleep til almost dawn and I had completely exhausted my body’s reserves, both mental and physical. Thankful for not being awakened early I sat up and stretched. Sleep had done much to repair my condition, although I still had a lingering ache in my lower back. It could have been worse I supposed.
A knock at the door gave me an idea as to what had roused me from my slumber. Crossing the room I opened it and looked out, wondering if I might find a hallway full of guards with Lord Devon behind them. Benchley stood there patiently.
“May I come in sir?” he said in his best ‘I may be a servant but I’m still better than you’ tone. It's amazing how much information some people can convey with simple inflections. I might ask him for lessons later. I stepped back so he could enter.
“I don’t suppose you have any food on you?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“Lunch is already over sir, but if you dress now you might persuade cook to let you have some leftovers.” he answered with a hint of a smile. The bastard knew full well what the cook thought of people who missed mealtimes. I wasn’t falling for it.
“Since you mentioned dressing, would you mind assisting me?” My native intelligence was working overtime.
“I believe that is what young Marcus intended when he asked me to check on you sir,” he replied. Fifteen minutes later I was dressed again. Benchley’s hands were surer than Penny’s when it came to doublet laces, but then I guess he had more experience dressing men. I also made note that he didn’t stand behind and reach around me to do up the laces. That should have told me something but I was too preoccupied to think on it.
Once he was finished with me Benchley left, and frankly I was relieved to be alone. I needed to think. The valet had been his usual imperturbable self, so I inferred that no hue and cry had gone up this morning. Most likely his lordship Devon Tremont was lying low wondering who had caught him with his pants down and whether retribution would be coming. I was naive to think that, but I knew little of aristocrats.
Since I thought it might be safe I ventured out to look for Penny, and perhaps steal some food if any happened to be lying about unattended. I had no luck finding Penny, or Marcus, or Dorian for that matter. Everyone seemed to have found better things to do than wait for me to get out of bed. Fortune was more kind when it came to food, I stumbled across young Timothy clearing tables in the great hall and he let me take large piece of roast pheasant that someone had left behind. I wrapped it in a piece of cloth and added partial loaf of bread from another plate. Timothy gave me one of his gap-toothed grins. I winked at him, and spoils in hand I retreated to my room to plot my next move.
Once I had eaten I decided to make use of my free time to study some more. I delved into ‘ A Grammar of Lycian’. Two hours later and my head was spinning. I have a knack for languages but Lycian seemed designed to twist a man’s tongues in knots. The verb tenses were also confusing, why anyone needed a ‘past progressive’ or a ‘simple future perfect’ tense eluded me. I decided to focus on memorizing vocabulary since I thought it might be more useful to start there. Another hour and I had had enough, so I switched to Vestrius’ journal. With my slightly less ignorant grasp of Lycian I began to comprehend a bit more of what he had learned in his first few weeks of training.