novelnext 42. In Need of a Daughter
42. In Need of a Daughter
"I can’t wear this," Liv protested. "I’m amazed no one has ever complained when I wore merchant dresses, but this is a step even beyond that."
The overskirt was blue, edged in white lace, while the bodice was as pure white as the underskirt, with blue trim to match. The shoulders were blue, as well, while the sleeves were a pale yellow with gold thread, and the entire thing rested on crinoline hoops that pushed out over her hips and rear. Melody, the seamstress who had come - not the one Julianne had been looking for, but her daughter - fussed around Liv, pinning the skirts up where they touched the floor.
"You can’t very well attend Princess Milisant’s tea dressed as a guildswoman or a peasant," Julianne responded, taking a sip of tea. "And I need you to go there, because I can’t go myself. I’m a generation too old."
"Matthew-"
"My son can deliver you and retrieve you when it’s all over, but he can’t stay," Julianne said. "No, for this particular event, I find myself in need of a daughter."
"I’m sorry you don’t have one," Liv said. She waited in silence while Melody helped her back out of the dress, piece by piece, and folded it all up. The crinoline hoops were set aside for later. Finally, she was left in her shift and stockings.
"You can have it altered for tomorrow?" Julianne asked the seamstress, while Liv reached for her everyday dress.
"I will, your highness," Melody said, gathering up her measuring tapes, pins, and slate.
"None of that," Julianne commanded. "It’s ’my lady,’ Melody. Anything more than that could get you in a great deal of trouble. Give my best to your mother, now."
With a curtsy, the seamstress hurried out. Once the door was closed, Lady Julianne set her tea aside and rose. "I need to prepare to visit my father," she said. "If all goes well, I will have something for you in the morning. You must be certain to see me before you leave. Here, let me help you with that." Julianne came up behind Liv and took the laces of her bodice in hand.
"Thank you," Liv said, pulling her hair off her neck and holding it in front of her, so that it would be out of the way. "You’ve done so much for me, m’lady," she said, then corrected herself before she could be caught. "My lady. Apologies. I’ll help you if I can. But it’s against the law for anyone not noble born to wear colors like those."
"A law that I believe has done more harm than good," Julianne grumbled. "I argued against it. All it did was insult the guilds, and now we all have to deal with the results. You reap what you sow. There, you’re tied."
Liv stepped away, picked up her shoes, and sat on the bench so that she could get them on. "All the same, I can’t be of much help to you if I’m arrested."
"Leave that to me," Julianne assured her.
"And I don’t even understand what you want me to do." Liv stood up, shoes secured.
"I want you to listen, that’s all," the baron’s wife said. "Make a friend or two, if you can. Cecily Falkenrath would be a good beginning. Be cautious of the princess, however, or any of her family. But Milisant is the one to listen to the most, and those who cozy up to her. When my son picks you up, you are to come directly back here and report to me on what you’ve heard."
"I’m your spy, then," Liv realized. "It might help if I knew what you were looking for."
"You can’t give away what you don’t know, my dear," Julianne said. "Safer this way, for you and me both. Do you trust me?"
Liv sighed, and looked the woman over. Like everyone else, it seemed, the baron’s wife had only gotten older. There were lines at the corners of her eyes, now, and Liv thought she could see traces of gray at the roots of her dark hair. "You’ve always looked after me when you could," she said. "Gave me a home, seen to it that I was taught just like one of your own children. I trust you."
"Good." Julianne reached a hand up and rested it on Liv’s cheek. "Come and sit next to me over breakfast. I’ll have more to tell you then." Liv nodded, the hand dropped away, and she took her leave, fetching her staff on the way out. Thora, who’d been stationed outside the door to Lady Julianne’s chambers, peeled herself off the wall and fell into step at Liv’s heels.
Glancing at the horologe in the hall, Liv saw that she had nearly a bell before dinner, with nothing in particular to do. At Castle Whitehill, she might have gone down to the kitchens, to help her mother or sing songs with Gretta, but here she wouldn’t know any of the cooks or kitchen maids.
"Can you show me the way down to the sea?" Liv asked the maid.
"Aye, m’lady," Thora said. "We can pick up one of the guards along the way."
"No need," Liv said. "I can take care of myself."
That wasn’t the end of it, of course: Liv had to insist twice more, at various stages of the process, before the two women got their feet onto the stone steps at the back of the gardens. Once they were making their way down the bluff, however, the wind off the water was loud enough that Liv could pretend she didn’t hear the maid’s protests.
"This is so strange," Liv remarked, once she’d made it to the foot of the stairs. She sat down on the last step, pulled off her shoes and her stockings, and then stepped onto the sandy beach.
"Nothing like this up in the mountains?" Thora asked her with a nervous smile.
Liv shook her head. "We have the river, and that’s sandy along the banks, and there are a few lakes, but those are more like sucking mud at the bottom than this." She couldn’t help but grin at the way the grains of sand shifted against her toes and the bare soles of her feet. "I didn’t think the water would smell so strongly," she admitted.
☙
Liv didn’t see Lady Julianne’s carriage return that evening. Her rooms faced the wrong side of the property, which meant she went to sleep to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach, rather than carriages passing in the street. In the morning, she found that Thora had already taken delivery of the blue dress, which she supposed was one less thing she needed to worry about.
As soon as she rose, Liv threw a robe over her shift, shoes on her feet, and met Matthew heading out through the rear garden. He was wearing a linen shirt and breeches, but no hose, and his hair was still wild from the night’s sleep.
"Piers will be coming with us," Matthew said, and Liv nodded to the guardsman. He wasn’t wearing a jack of plate, but he did have a rapier at his hip. With Thora carrying a pile of towels, that made four of them on an expedition down the stone stairs that wound back and forth along the bluff. When they got to the bottom, a young man waved from the water, bare-chested.
"Come on down!" Cole Talbot called to them over the surf. "It’s warm enough once you’re in."
Matthew pulled his shirt off, and began to untie his breeches. "What are you doing?" Liv hissed, turning around.
"What did you expect us to swim in, then?" Matthew said, and then she heard his feet pounding across the sand before a great splash signalled he’d made it to the water.
Liv looked to Thora in panic. "What do I do?" she asked. "Ladies don’t-"
"No," Thora assured her. "Ladies bathe in their shifts, m’lady. I’ll just take your shoes and stockings."
"I can do that," Liv decided. She sat down on the last stair to peel her stockings off, handed them to the maid, and then scampered across the sand down into the waves. When the surf broke about her ankles, she couldn’t help but shriek. "I thought you said it wasn’t cold!"
"Ironic for you to complain about that," Matthew called back to her, a wide grin on his face. "Come on, then, introduce me to your friend!"
Liv took a deep breath, then pushed her way in. The shift ballooned up around her, soaking through in an instant, and she dove forward to get it over with. When she came up, she had to pull her hair back out of her face.
"This is your brother, then," Cade said, swimming over to her. "Cade Talbot." He stood up in the water, exposing most of his chest and belly, and extended his hand.
"Matthew Summerset," the other young man answered, standing and clasping the hand in his own. "A pleasure. This is quite a way to wake up."
"Isn’t it, though?" Cade let himself fall back into the waves, until he was once again submerged to the neck. "As I told Liv the other afternoon, it’s good to have a few people of my own age and class around."
"No brothers or sisters, then?" Matthew asked.
Cade shook his head, and the shadow of an old pain flickered behind his eyes. "No. My mother didn’t survive her second labor."
"I’m so sorry to hear that," Liv said. Before she could think better of it, she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.
"It was a long time ago," the dark-haired boy said. "I hardly even remember her. Come on then, don’t let me ruin the morning!" With a flat hand, he splashed a spray of water in Matthew’s direction, and before she knew it, Liv was caught in the middle of a vicious battle, all three of them laughing and shrieking.
☙
"What’s the report on this boy, then?" Baron Henry asked a bell later, over the morning meal.
"Only child, like me," Matthew answered. "Mother’s dead. He behaved himself while I was there, at least. He’s probably about the age Liv looks to be."
"I can find that out one way or another," Lady Julianne said. "Put him aside, for the moment. Two of my goals in meeting my father last evening were accomplished. Matthew, you’re to be presented to your grandfather. He wants to meet you at least once before you go off to Coral Bay. Wants it a great deal, I think. His age is catching up with him, and I suspect he knows it might be his last chance."
"Of course," Matthew said, awkwardly. "I’ll be happy to meet the king."
"The other matter was about you, Liv," Julianne said, reaching her hand up and snapping her fingers. Basil, the steward of the house, must have been waiting for the signal, because he stepped over and placed a piece of parchment in her hand. The baron’s wife set it out on the table, where Liv could read it.
"What is this?" she asked, scanning through the overly formal and archaic sentences that made up the bulk of the writing.
"I asked my father to approve and seal a petition for legal adoption," Julianne said. "Liv, you know that my husband and I can’t have any more children. Since the moment you first came to my attention, you’ve proved you have the wit and courage to support our family. You saved my life, and the life of my son, when you were just a girl. I’m not going to send you off to the palace this afternoon without the shield of a family name. If you sign this, you will be legally recognized as my adopted daughter, and a member of this family."
Basil placed a quill and a pot of ink in front of Liv, and she dropped her fork. It clattered off the table, then across the floor, while everyone looked at her, waiting to see what she said.