To Beguile a Beast (Legend of the Four Soldiers #3)(8)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

“Go on with you!”

“I assure you it’s true, and what’s more, you’d best get used to the idea.”

Wiggins scratched his rear end contemplatively. “Well, if’n it’s true, you got a wagon load of hard work on yer hands.”

“Indeed.” Helen softened her tone. The little man had no doubt been startled to find strangers in the castle kitchen. “I hope I can count on your help, Mr. Wiggins.”

“Ur,” he grunted noncommittally.

She let it go for the moment. “Now. Would you care for some breakfast?”

“Naw.” Wiggins shuffled to the hall. “Hisself will be wantin’ ta see me and give me his orders for the day, won’t he?”

He stomped out of the kitchen.

Abigail set the iron skillet on a table. “That man smells.”

“He does indeed,” Helen said. “But we shouldn’t hold that against him. However, I want you both to stay out of his way when I’m not by your side.”

Jamie nodded vigorously, while Abigail merely looked worried.

“Well, enough of that,” Helen said briskly. “Let’s do the washing up, and then we’ll start on the kitchen.”

“We’re going to clean this kitchen?” Jamie gaped at the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling.

“Of course.” Helen said it confidently, ignoring the flutter of trepidation in her stomach. The kitchen was very dirty. “Now. Let’s go fetch some water to wash with.”

They’d found the old pump in a corner of the stable yard just this morning. She’d pumped one bucket of water then, but she’d used it all up in making breakfast. Jamie carried the tin bucket as they all tramped out to the stable yard. Helen grasped the pump handle and gave an encouraging smile to the children before hauling it up with both hands. Unfortunately, the pump was rather rusted, and it took a great deal of effort to work it.

Ten minutes later, Helen pushed sweaty hair off her forehead and eyed the half-full bucket.

“It’s not very much,” Abigail said dubiously.

“Yes, well, it’ll do for now,” Helen panted. She took the bucket and returned to the kitchen, the children trailing behind.

She set the bucket down and bit her lip. The water had to be heated to wash the dishes, but she’d let the fire go out since breakfast. Only a few embers still glowed in the fireplace ashes.

Mr. Wiggins entered the kitchen as she was standing and staring at the hearth in dismay. The little man looked from her to the pitiful bucket of water and grunted. “Had a grand start, have ye? Why, th’ kitchen’s so clean it near blinds me eyes t’ look at it. Well, never fear. Yer stay is fixin’ to be short. Hisself is sendin’ me to fetch a carriage from th’ village.”

Helen straightened in dismay. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Mr. Wiggins.”

The little man merely snorted and left.

“Mama,” Abigail said quietly, “if Sir Alistair is sending for a carriage for us to go home in, maybe we don’t have to clean the kitchen after all.”

Helen felt sudden weariness sweep over her. She wasn’t a housekeeper. She didn’t know how to clean a kitchen or even know enough to keep the fire burning, it seemed. What was she doing, attempting a task this insurmountable? Perhaps Sir Alistair was right.

Perhaps she should admit defeat and take the carriage away from the castle.

Chapter Three

The black castle was cavernous and gloomy, with winding passages leading into more passages. Truth Teller followed the beautiful young man, and although they walked for long minutes, they did not meet another soul. Finally the young man led Truth Teller to a great dining hall and set before him a meal of roasted meat and fine bread and all manner of exotic fruit. The soldier ate everything gratefully, for it had been years since his vittles had been so fine. All the while Truth Teller ate, the young man sat and smiled and watched him. . . .

—from TRUTH TELLER

Helen let her head loll against the carriage side as they swept around a bend, and the castle disappeared from view.

“It was a very dirty castle,” Abigail said from across the carriage.

Helen sighed. “Yes, my love, it was.”

A very dirty castle with a surly master—and she’d let them both defeat her. She’d seen movement in the high tower window as they’d tramped out to the waiting rented carriage. No doubt Sir Beastly had been gloating over her rout.

“Our house in London is much nicer,” Abigail said. “And maybe the duke will be happy that we’ve come back.”

Helen closed her eyes. No. No, he wouldn’t. Abigail obviously thought that they’d be returning home to London now, but that wasn’t an option. Lister wouldn’t welcome them with open arms. He’d steal the children from her and toss her into the street.

And that was if she was lucky.

She looked at Abigail and tried to smile. “We won’t be going back to London, dearest one.”

Abigail’s face fell. “But—”

“We’ll just have to find another place to stay.” And hide.

“I want to go home,” Jamie said.

A headache started at her temple. “We can’t go home, sweetheart.”

Jamie’s lower lip protruded. “I want—”

“It’s simply not possible.” Helen inhaled and then said in a quieter voice, “I’m sorry, my darlings. Mama has an aching head. Let’s discuss this later. For now, all you need to know is that we must find another place to stay.”

But where else could they go? Castle Greaves might’ve been filthy and its master impossible, but as a hiding place it’d been perfect. She patted her skirts, feeling for the little leather bag that hung under them. Inside were some coins and quite a few jewels—the nest egg she’d saved from Lister’s gifts. She had money, but finding a place where a single woman with two children wouldn’t excite comment was going to be difficult.

“Shall I read to you from the fairy-tale book?” Abigail asked very quietly.

Helen looked at her and tried to smile. Her daughter really was a dear sometimes. “Yes, please. I think I’d like that.”

Abigail’s face smoothed in relief, and she bent to rummage in the soft bag at her feet.

Beside her, Jamie bounced on his seat. “Read from the story about the man with the iron heart!”

Abigail drew out a bundle of papers and very carefully paged through them until she came to the place she wanted. She cleared her throat and began reading slowly. “Once upon a time, long, long ago, there came four soldiers traveling home after many years of war.…”