Keeping the Castle - By Patrice Kindl Page 0,27

by the stables to study the sky (the outlook was excellent, the groom who was readying the horses assured me). My gaze dropped to the castle with its mad, eccentric towers and buttresses, and beyond to the land where I lived. The groom, who was an intelligent, good sort of man, whose family had worked for mine for many generations, noticed my thoughtful look and said, smiling, “T’castle be a rare fine place, mistress.”

“Jock, it is,” I agreed. I knew that he and I felt much the same loyalty to Crooked Castle. “And it must be kept in the family. It must be preserved for Master Alexander.”

“Aye, mistress, that it must,” he said, and then began talking about provisions for the day.

I had begun to think of our journey as something more than a mere pleasure jaunt; rather, it resembled a military sortie in our campaign to keep the castle. I believed that Jock shared my view. If ever we were forced to abandon our home it would go hard not only on us, but on our tenants and servants as well. They knew it, and I knew that they were looking to me to protect their homes and livelihood with a good marriage. Beyond my immediate family, thirty-seven people (give or take a few babies) were anxiously waiting to see how I would dispose of my hand in matrimony.

I thought of the Baron’s handsome face and figure and felt that I could resign myself to doing my duty quite cheerfully if only I were given the chance to do so.

Mrs. Westing and Mrs. Fredericks had sent their regrets at not attending our little party, feeling that the expedition would require them to travel both for a longer time and over rougher roads than either was accustomed to on horseback. I was sorry for this, as I wished to be better acquainted with Lord Boring’s mother, and as my mother so enjoyed the conversation of Mrs. Fredericks. And besides, if Mrs. Fredericks had come to keep Mama company I should have had no compunction about leaving her alone from time to time in order to walk with his Lordship.

Our nuncheon was not to be anything grand. I had looked in the larder and found a great many shriveled parsnips and other, less identifiable roots left over from last fall. After I had boiled these for an hour or two and added some currants and sugar, I encased the result in pastry, baked it, and called it a pie. The vegetable garden yielded herbs enough for a green salad, with the addition of some wild sorrel and dandelion leaves. That would have to suffice. It was packed up in Jock’s saddlebags—Lord Boring had not forgotten to send over a pony for him so that he could wait upon us and see to the horses while we strolled about the countryside. I lingered to supervise the careful packing of two of those few bottles of wine that remained to us of what had once been a fine wine cellar, as well as a cool jug of barley water.

“I want to go! I want to go, too, ’Leetha!” Alexander burst out of the door, trotting on his little-boy legs as fast as he could, with Mama in pursuit. Fido, who was, as always, at my heels, began to bark and prance about the child, twisting in ridiculous, hysterical circles and adding to Alexander’s uproar.

I sighed. I had known that these two would be distraught if excluded from our party, but could not see how to include them. I said, “Mama, if you could see to it that Prudence and Charity are up, and that they are ready on time, I will take Alexander out to the garden where we can throw the ball for Fido.” If I could exhaust their busy little bodies prior to our departure, it might make it easier to consign them both to Annie’s care.

For at least an hour I played with them, running and throwing the ball until I felt that I, at least, would prefer to go back to my chamber and fall into an exhausted slumber rather than set out on an eight-mile ride over rough country. At the end of that time Mama appeared and signaled to me that we were nearly ready to depart. My companions shifted their shining eyes from my face to hers.

“I—I am coming,” I gasped. I hurried indoors and donned my “new” riding habit. Fido and Alexander, showing no sign