“I’ve told you,” he answered, “it doesn’t matter now. There is no excuse for my behavior. I will make it up to you first thing tomorrow.”
“No, that won’t do. I must know,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her and pinning him back with a stare. “I have quite literally nowhere to go this evening, so it matters not if this story is lengthy or short.”
Seeing that she was serious, Callum explained about his mother’s death, the simple headpiece she’d left him, her hopes that it would belong to his wife someday. His sad tale broke into different branches, and before long, Callum realized he’d told this young woman far more than he’d intended.
By the time he’d finished, Beatrix’s eyes appeared to glisten with unshed tears. He finally looked to her and his expression softened.
“I’m so sorry, I did not mean to sadden you,” Callum said. “I remember now that you mentioned you never knew your mother. It is as you once said, at least I had the good fortune of six and twenty years with her when you had none.”
“That does not lessen the pain of your tale,” she answered softly. “I have lived my life by the belief that just because others have it worse, that does not justify any bad things that come our way. We must always strive for good. Therefore, I will help you retrieve what is lost.”
Chapter 15
“All right, Cooke,” Aaron said very slowly, taking care to measure the anger in his voice. “Let’s do it again. Tell us where the fancy man went.”
Pencot, Aaron, and Cooke all sat around the table, peering down at the map that Pencot had drawn. Cooke frowned, trying to concentrate while avoiding falling asleep. It had been two days already, and finally Pencot had come back with a map to help them make sense of Cooke’s directions.
“I’m sorry, sir!” Cooke whined. “But I cannaw tell ya, I’d have to only show ya!”
“But we cannot go to the fancy man’s house without knowing where it is,” Pencot explained, far more patiently than Aaron. “Is it very far? You said you slept a few times on the way there and the way back. How fast do you think you were walking?”
“I tried to run most of the time. Sometimes I had to walk, and one time I saw a hare that was caught in the privet and I stopped to set it free. Oh, but then it scratched me, and me ma always said to wash it good if I got bit or clawed by somethin’ wild, so then I found a stream, and I—”
“Cooke, I cannot keep going in this way. I’m going to have to strangle you if you don’t keep to the story,” Aaron said, slamming his hands upon the table and leaning close to Cooke’s face. “Where is Lady Beatrix?”
“I’m sorry, I’m tryna tell ya!” Cooke cried, actual tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.
“Sir, if I may?” Pencot said, shaking his head slightly and letting his gray hair fall in his eyes. He brushed it back and cocked his head towards the poor addled young man. “Perhaps if I spend some time talking with him, that might prove more helpful?”
Aaron fumed, but finally he nodded. Pencot spoke a few words to the young man and led him outside, giving Aaron room alone with his thoughts. He paced the room, trying to will his anger to subside. But to be so close to finding his beloved daughter while trying to break through the lock of a simple man’s thoughts was maddening, to say the least.
When Pencot finally returned, he shook his head sadly. Aaron noted that he kept his distance lest Aaron thrash him good in his rage.
“I’m sorry, sir. But Cooke cannaw describe it to me, either. So I’ll take him out at first light and we’ll see if he can show me.”
“Good thinking,” Aaron agreed. “Tell the others to make their preparations. We’ll all go.”
“Sir, I do naw think that’s wise. If Cooke is unable to remember it, then we’ve all risked being spotted along the road. If he can show me, we’ll come back here straight away and prepare to ride.”
Pencot waited silently for Aaron to think that over, and he breathed a soft sigh of relief when Aaron nodded.
“Tis a good plan. Strike out early in the morning, before the sun has even risen, so that you can hope to return tomorrow evening. Take care to note the landmarks along the way so you can remember it.”
“Aye, sir. And don’t be worried. I’m certain Cooke knows that of which he saw, but only cannaw tell us,” Pencot said, trying to reassure Aaron.
“I’ll stop my worrying when my daughter is safely home to me, and not a moment before,” Aaron reminded him darkly. “But thank you for your searching, Pencot. I am desperate to go myself, but I cannaw barely move on this leg.”
“Think nothing of it!” Pencot replied brightly. “There’s not a man among Prince Aaron’s men who isn’t grieved over this. We’ll find her, sir. I promise. And Cooke will lead the way.”
* * *
Lord Bellton and Beatrix spoke late into the evening. Servants passed through the room on silent feet, carrying in more courses then removing their plates, serving dessert courses and refreshing their glasses. All the while, the pair spoke on a great number of subjects, both of them opening the other’s eyes on a few topics of interest.
When at last she could keep her eyes open no longer, Beatrix begged forgiveness to take her leave. Callum apologized for the late hour and offered to once again escort her.
“Thank you for agreeing to dine with me tonight,” Callum said as they approached the door to her room. “I hope I was better able to be understood.”
“And I as well,” Beatrix said. “I hope you see that I am not unwilling to help you, but cannot put my family in peril in order to do so.”
