Chapter Two
While a large boar was paraded, the men in the lucky hunting party made annoying gestures toward Beatrice and her hunting group as people gathered to congratulate them.
“Where’d you go off to?” Her brother gave her an annoyed look, forehead creasing as his brows lowered. “You were supposed to help keep the beast on our side of the stream.”
Beatrice looked past her brother at the men who were now doing some sort of dance. She could only describe it as obscene. “I helped a man find his wounded dog.”
At once, her brother’s full attention was hers. “Who?”
“Shouldn’t you see about what the men are doing? If they begin removing clothing, I will round up the women and leave.”
The man she’d met in the woods was tall with a broad chest and wide shoulders. However, Gavin Mereworth would appear slight beside her bear of a twin brother, Oscar.
With a square jaw, thick, shoulder-length tresses and intense, light brown eyes, Oscar attracted many a woman’s attention. And he rarely turned any away, garnering his rogue status amongst the villagers. When Oscar was about, fathers kept their daughters of age safely locked away once noting his presence.
However, she supposed, none would deny the warrior if he asked for any lass’ hand. Not that Oscar was about to give up the plunder and settle any time soon.
“I don’t recall the man’s name. A friend or relative of the Lord’s,” Beatrice lied. “His hound was injured, we found it.”
Oscar narrowed his eyes and leaned forward to study her face. “You didn’t let that sharp tongue of yours loose, I hope.”
“Shouldn’t you be more worried about my virtue or perhaps that I could have been accosted?” Beatrice placed her fisted hands on both hips. “You are not a caring brother.”
“Ha!” Oscar’s bark of laughter made others turn to look. “I know you much better than that. Given you didn’t answer my question, I am prepared to make amends for whatever it is you did.”
Beatrice searched her mind thinking back to what she’d said. “Other than stating the men in attendance at the feast were idiots, I was too worried about the hound to insult him further.”
“What did he say?” That Oscar could speak so clearly though clenched teeth and barely-moving lips had always astonished her. “Did he ask anything of you?”
It was her turn to press her lips together. “That I come tomorrow night.” Beatrice mumbled the reply, leaving out the part of him asking for a dance. No matter how loyal Oscar was to Lord Mereworth, he would never allow any male to treat her badly. “That’s all.”
“Then you will go.”
“I will not.” She turned on her heel only to be flung back around so hard that she lost her balance. She grabbed Oscar’s hair to keep from falling.
He yelped.
She lost her grip and fell.
Village children who’d been watching began circling her, laughing and pointing.
“You will,” Oscar growled and stalked away.
Beatrice looked to the leader of the chanting circle. “If you don’t leave me be, you little beastie, I will toss you in the fire.”
The child screamed and ran off crying, the others on his heels.
Deep in thought, Beatrice entered her home through the kitchen door. After traipsing in the woods, neither she nor Oscar was allowed through the front door.
The aroma of the evening meal made her stomach grumble. A reminder she’d not eaten since early that morning.
Meaghan, the cook, gave her a once over and pointed to a side door. “Go on inside there and remove those horrible rags. I will fetch water.”
“Can I have a piece of bread?” She eyed the covered basket on the side table.
Without having to look, Beatrice knew the answer when Meaghan focused on her grimy hands. “No you may not.”
Childish as it was, Beatrice wanted to cry. “I am so hungry.”
“A proper young woman does not spend her day like a wildling in the woods, but at home. You would have had tea and an afternoon repast with your mother had you been home. Therefore, I have a hard time feeling sorry for you.” Meaghan neared and pushed her to the bathing room. “Go on now. I haven’t all day.”
Beatrice undressed and loosed her hair. She gathered up a bucket of water and poured the cold water over her head. Shivering while she scrubbed, she was glad when Meaghan brought hot water to mix in with the next bucket.
Perhaps Meaghan was right. If she desired to marry and settle, it would not do to continue in her ways. As she washed her hair, Beatrice wondered if Gavin Mereworth was married.
“You will attend the gathering.” Her father gave Beatrice a pointed look while holding his speared meat halfway to his mouth.
Other than wishing the meat would fall and splash juices over his tunic, Beatrice had little recourse but to nod. “I don’t see why everyone is suddenly so interested in my attendance at the feast. It used to be you urged me to stay home.”
The exchange of looks between her parents sent a tingle down her spine. This time her mother spoke, a soft smile on her lips. “Beatrice, I worry about your penchant for hunting and lack of interest in womanly duties. We have been much too lenient. We must ensure you learn to perform properly in society, so you can marry well.”
“Marry?” Beatrice’s mouth fell open. “I don’t wish to marry. Not yet anyway.”
Oscar huffed. “Now you see? There is a problem with a woman her age not wanting to marry. She must be settled.”
Settled? Beatrice straightened, her food forgotten. “I am not a sheep to be auctioned off.”
There was a beat of silence. Her mother slid a pointed look at her father. Beatrice had a soft spot for her strong, quiet father. However, in instances like this, he had the power to make her quake. Although a fair and often too-lenient parent, when his mind was made up on something, he made his point quite clear.
He pointed his fork in her direction. “You will go to the gathering. You will comport yourself like a lady and I will ensure it is known you are ready to marry.”
There was no need for him to ask if she understood. The message was clear. Her days of living at home were coming to an end. How she wished at that point to be ten years of age so crying and dashing to her bed would not be seen as weak. Instead, she let out a shaky breath before glaring at Oscar.
The oaf continued eating without a worry. “I think Oscar should settle as well. Bethany Blankenship confessed to me about having laid with him and fearing the possibility of consequences.” Her triumphant look was met with her brother’s food plopping from his open mouth to the table.
“I never bedded that wench.” Oscar’s eyes moved side to side as the scoundrel, no doubt, racked his brain to recall if the statement was true.
“If you did and her father finds out, you will be held responsible,” their mother stated. “And I agree with Beatrice. The both of you are old enough to settle with families of your own.”
A sharp kick made Beatrice flinch. When she returned it, she missed and her father grunted.
Oscar smirked only to sober when their father slammed his hands on the tabletop. “May we finish this meal in peace?”
“I apologize, Father,” Beatrice said, eyes downcast as she leaned forward and pinched Oscar’s leg as hard as she could, ensuring her nails sunk into his flesh.
Her brother grimaced and moved his leg away.