Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)(77)

Michael helped. He remained nearby all day. Beth didn’t know if Robert had ordered him to watch over her or if Michael had volunteered for the duty, but she appreciated his attempts to help her convert modern to medieval slang whenever she slipped, if he understood it. The children were particularly tickled when such happened.



Enlisting their aid in correcting her pronunciation astounded, amused, and eventually made Beth’s helpers warm right up to her. They even shared a few laughs over it.

Most of them did, anyway.

The second group of servants quickly became a problem.

There were only a handful of them, all women around Beth’s age. In appearance, they ranged from average to pretty, tall to short, slender to plump. Vocally they ranged from stonily silent to obnoxiously outspoken. One characteristic they all shared, however, was their resentment of Beth and Robert’s obvious affection for her.

The one Beth quickly came to think of as the leader of the group boasted long, dark blond hair, pale blue eyes, and substantial—if a bit saggy, despite her youth—breasts. Her name was Alice.

According to Michael, the kitchen was a relatively new structure that had been attached to the great hall shortly after Robert took command of Fosterly. The kitchen had formerly been located across the bailey, which made Beth think the inhabitants of the keep must not have had many hot meals if the servants had been forced to lug the food that distance through snow and rain.

Beth considered the kitchen’s being a new addition something of a blessing. She hated to think of the sooty, grimy buildup that would have covered its walls and surfaces if it were as old as the rest of the keep.

Not that it was filthy. It just really needed a good scouring with modern disinfectant cleaners.

Since those were not available, she ordered all supplies and foodstuffs removed to the great hall until the walls, floors, tables, stools, cauldrons, kettles, utensils and everything else the kitchen contained could be scrubbed thoroughly with the harshest soap available. Most of the men, women, and children were busily engaged in doing just that when a spate of harsh, angry whispers sounded behind her.

The room abruptly went silent.

Beth looked up from the sack she had been hesitantly peering into, hoping she wouldn’t find any rodents or insects peering back, and found herself surrounded by an exhibition of statues and statuettes whose eyes regarded her with varying degrees of shock and horror.

“What?” As she glanced at the frozen faces around her, their gazes slid away from hers. “What did I miss?”

“’Tis naught to concern yourself with, my lady,” Maude, a plump woman who looked to be in her fifties, offered briskly. Maude had behaved in a warm, almost motherly fashion toward Beth from the instant they had met, bustling around and directing the servants in carrying out her wishes.

Now displeasure pinched her round, time-worn features as she glared at Alice.

Beth looked at the troublesome blonde, whose stance screamed stubborn defiance, then back at Maude. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“As I said, my lady, ’tis naught. Some here do not know their place is all.”

Alice muttered something beneath her breath that made her comrades snicker. A little boy near her gasped and stared at Beth with wide eyes. Michael straightened away from the wall he had been propping up, his eyebrows lowering in a suspicious frown.

Her hackles rising, Beth crossed to stand a few feet in front of the much taller woman. “I didn’t quite catch that. Would you care to repeat it?”

Lips clamped shut, Alice glared at her mutinously. Unbridled anger oozed from her sapphire gaze. That and a certain grating smugness.

“If you have something to say to me,” Beth told her, “I suggest you say it to my face instead of behind my back like a coward.”

“I am no coward!” the woman hissed, swallowing the bait. “I said I know my place and ’tis not serving Lord Robert’s whore!”

Michael lunged forward with a furious growl.

Beth planted a hand on his chest before he could storm past her. “Let me handle this, Michael.” She kept her tone neutral, her expression calm and her manner unruffled, though she snarled and growled a bit on the inside.



Keeping her gaze on Alice, she raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

An unattractive sneer twisted the woman’s face. “All here know you share his bed.”

“Really,” Beth commented, letting her tone drop on the second syllable. “Well, since I’m pretty sure the earl doesn’t invite you all to sleep in his chamber every night, I suppose that means you can see through wood and stone? Or do you forego sleep and keep your ear pressed to his door instead?”

“We need not be there to know ’tis true,” Alice declared disparagingly. “We have all seen the way you throw yourself at him like a camp follower. ’Tis obvious he was bedding you long afore you arrived at Fosterly.”

“You deceitful slut!” Maude shouted furiously. “’Tis not true and you know it! She was a virgin ere last night! You saw the sheets yourself!” As soon as the words left her lips, the older woman gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh! Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean… I only thought to… Oh, dear!”

Michael groaned.

Lovely. Beth had never tried so hard in her life to suppress a blush. “Be that as it may, what business is it of yours, Alice?”