Shana Abe by The Truelove Bride Read Free Book Online

thought.
    Mistress Herndon’s eyes widened, milky white and brown, and then she gave Avalon a quivering smile.
    “Why, ’tis Lady Gwynth,” she said, surprised. “I had almost forgotten about you, and yet here you are. Lady Gwynth.”
    Avalon knelt at the foot of the chair, close to the old woman, and spoke gently.
    “I am Lady Avalon, mistress. Gwynth was my mother’s name.”
    “Avalon?” The gaze turned confused, the smile faded. “Avalon? But little Avalon is dead.”
    “No.” Avalon placed one of her hands carefully on the woman’s, feeling the slight trembles that would never stop.
    “Aye,” insisted the woman. “She died in the raid. And Gwynth is dead too, my sweet lady, both of them dead, and who are you, then, looking just like them?”
    “Gram, this is Lady Avalon.” The man released Elfrieda and came to stand by them both. He was young and not very handsome, but had earnest brown eyes and a temperate look. “Remember I told you, Gram, about Lady Avalon, that she would come to see you tonight.”
    “Did you, now?” Mistress Herndon leaned back in her chair, squinting at Avalon.
    Elfrieda moved behind her lover. “Lady Avalon seeks to know something of your friend, missus. Remember Lady Luedella? Remember how she came to live with you? Lady Avalon would like to hear of it.”
    “Oh, Luedella.” Mistress Herndon clicked her tongue in dismissal. “She’s dead, as well.”
    “Aye, Gram,” said the young man, helpless. He looked at Avalon and shrugged.
    Avalon turned back to the woman. “Can you tell me what you remember of Luedella?” She felt her own aggravation at not knowing what she sought, struggling to put a half-formed idea into words. “Tell me why she left the castle, for instance?”
    Mistress Herndon looked away, then down at her lap. “Oh, aye,” she said, soft. “I remember how she left, my Luedella. And my lord, dear Geoffrey …”
    The fire spat and sizzled; a surly coil of smoke wafted out into the room. The old woman spoke again.
    “She lost everything, so many did. But they did not kill her. I don’t know why. I don’t think she knew, either. Yet she lived. He hated her, I think. He used to mock her to her face. He used to hit her. I saw it.”
    “Who?” asked Avalon.
    “The lord. The baron. I don’t know why. Mayhap she just reminded him of what he had done.”
    Avalon was astonished. “Do you mean Geoffrey used to hit her? My father?”
    Mistress Herndon gave her a startled look, then scowled. “Of course not. The baron would never do such a thing.”
    “Then it was Bryce.” As Avalon said it she found herself nodding, matching the agreement in the woman’s expression.
    “Aye, Bryce.”
    Elfrieda made a tiny sound, almost a whimper, and quickly walked over to the door. The man followed her, took her back into his arms.
    “And—” Avalon stopped, then made herself say the words. “What was it he had done? What did Luedella remind him of?”
    Mistress Herndon sucked in her cheeks, then lifted up her head and stared down at Avalon.
    “Why, he bought the Picts, girl.”
    The floor was hard and cold beneath her. Avalon found herself braced with her hands behind her, fighting for the balance that had vanished in an instant. Then Elfrieda was there with an arm around her shoulders, slight but strong.
    The room fell silent again, only the dim clamor of the barroom below them leaking up through the wood.
    Avalon found her voice.
    “Are you certain?”
    “Aye.” Mistress Herndon shifted in the chair. “And Luedella knew it, too. I suppose it came down to the fact that he could not kill her so openly after the raid. Others might have realized what he’d done. She was the granddaughter of a baron. She was highborn, my lady was. So Bryce vanquished her. I was her maid,” the woman said proudly. “And so she came here, with me.”
    There was no proof. Avalon understood this without bothering to ask; she had gleaned it already from the nervousness of