Hilda, who had not enjoyed the journey at all and was glad to think of resting her aching bones, smiled broadly at the man. Catheryn, on the other hand, pushed her horse faster, overtaking her parents.
“It’ll still be there!” joked Cuthbert, but Catheryn did not listen. All she wanted to do was see Selwyn. She had to.
And there he was. Lounging outside in the very field that she loved lying in, their childhood fortress, was Selwyn with his eyes shut, basking in the sunlight that was pouring down to quicken the grain.
“Selwyn?”
Catheryn’s cry was joyful, and she forced her exhausted horse towards him.
Selwyn had been indulging in a rather fanciful notion that Catheryn had accidently got caught in the rain. Her dress clung to her body, and her veil had slipped off her golden hair. She was whispering his name…and then she was shouting it. And her voice was clear, clearer than he ever could have imagined, surely?
“Selwyn!”
Selwyn’s eyes opened, and he saw a horse barrelling towards him. With a yell, he tried to raise himself quickly enough to avoid the stamping hooves, but with a high level of skill, the rider pulled the horse to a halt just before his feet were trampled. The sunlight dazzled his eyes, but eventually he made out a slender form with waves of blonde hair cascading out of a veil that had been dismantled in the wind.
“Catheryn?”
She jumped down from her horse, and Selwyn quickly stood. The two of them remained there, just out of reach, smiling awkwardly. There was an incredibly formal way in which the daughter of a house should greet a steward, but Selwyn was hoping beyond hope that she would not resort to it.
“Selwyn?” Catheryn repeated.
Catheryn, on the other hand, had no idea what to do with herself. Everything about her felt clumsy, and she didn’t know what to do with her hands. She could feel that her veil had slipped down to lie around her shoulders, and she was sure that her mother would be astounded that her hair was visible for anyone to see.
But not just anyone. Selwyn. His tunic was open near his throat, and she could see the dark brown skin of a man that worked outside from when the sun greeted him to when it fell back into the earth. His arms were strong, and there seemed to be something…something about him that made her heart quicken. Catheryn could feel it, pounding against her very bones.
Selwyn watched her breath shorten, and a blush blossom across her face. He could feel it – the heat emanating from her, and it stirred in him something that he had never felt before. Selwyn was accustomed to looking at Catheryn, she had always been part of the household, part of the very fabric of the family. Usually when he looked at her, he had just seen a young woman that had only recently stopped being a child. She was an unknown, a mystery, but somehow not one worth exploring. But now…
Catheryn recovered first.
“How have you been, Selwyn?” She managed to speak out.
But Selwyn could not answer. Something was taking over his body, and he wasn’t sure if he could fight it off. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to.
Selwyn took a step forward. He reached out an arm. The gap between them was closing.
“Catheryn…”
Neither of them knew what would have happened at that moment if her parents had not caught them up, panting at the effort but smiling at the welcoming scene.
“Selwyn!” Ælfgard greeted his steward warmly.
Ælfgard’s joy at seeing a familiar face immediately caused Selwyn to drop his arm. Catheryn took a step back, but she kept her eyes on Selwyn, and now he could feel redness covering his own cheeks.
“It is good to see you home safely, my lord,” he said stiffly, helplessly embarrassed and hoping beyond hope that neither his lord nor lady guessed what he was just about to do to their daughter. “And my lady – how did you fare the journey?”
Hilda’s hatred of travelling was well-known, but she tried to smile even through her weariness. “The best part of the journey is the arrival, Selwyn. Are my ladies here?”
“Just inside, my lady. Come, I shall give you my arm.”
Selwyn strode forward and helped Hilda dismount from her horse, which seemed glad to see its unruly passenger go. Without another look at Catheryn, he turned and escorted Hilda back towards her home.
Ælfgard gave a knowing look at Catheryn. “Good of you to ride ahead,” he said gruffly, eyes up to the sky, and not dismounting from his horse. “Eager to be home?”
Catheryn did not know where to look. She could feel some of what her father implied, but in many ways she hoped that he would keep his inferences to himself.
“Familiarity is comforting, father,” Catheryn said eventually.
“Indeed,” Ælfgard nodded, dropping to the ground deftly. “You are probably right.”
He began to walk towards the stables, taking his and his wife’s horse with him – but he continued to speak, and although he was facing away from his daughter, Catheryn could hear him clearly.
“Not too much familiarity, mind.”
Selwyn dreaded the thought of that evening meal, but thankfully the three thanes that had remained were still suffering from the ale and wine they had consumed the night before, and so it was rather a quieter meal. He was also able to completely ignore the beautiful woman sitting just four people away from him. Almost.
Catheryn however could barely stand it. She had to talk to him.
“Selwyn?”
Her voice carried further than she was expecting, and heads that she had not intended to turn around to face her looked around for the source of the noise. Luckily, the steward was one of them.
“I need to speak to you about a private matter,” she said coolly, fixing her eyes away from him and trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. “Will you give me a moment of your time?”
Selwyn’s heart clenched. How could she speak so distantly to him? Had she completely forgotten their growing closeness? Evidently she had effectively removed him from her life in just a matter of days – but he was not going to force his company on her if she did not want it.
“I am sure that whatever business you have with me can wait until morning, my lady,” he said, turning to his neighbour and striking up a conversation about the first thing that came into his head – the shearing of the sheep that had been late that year.
But Catheryn was not used to taking no for an answer. She stood, and her father eyed her warily.
“It cannot wait,” she said, and swept out of the room.
All eyes that were not already staring in his direction now turned to Selwyn. He looked at Ælfgard with almost panic, but his lord shook his head and smiled. He was not going to protect anyone from his daughter.
“My lord,” Selwyn muttered, hastily getting up and following the path the impetuous woman had just taken.
He had not seen exactly where she had gone, but he knew what he wanted to do and say to her. But he had to remember, at all costs, that Catheryn was the daughter of the house, and he was only the steward. He must remember that. He had to try to remember that.
“Selwyn!”
He hadn’t noticed the waiting figure in the shadowy darkness, but as soon as it spoke he knew her.
“Catheryn.”
She came towards him, and with a strength that surprised him, pushed him so forcefully that he fell hard into the wall. His left shoulder jolted painfully, and his head buzzed from the impact.
Catheryn was angry.
“How could you make me look so ridiculous in front of the entire household?” She spat at him as Selwyn put his hands out before him to protect himself. She came towards him furiously. “I thought we were…”
Her voice trailed off, and Selwyn laughed wryly, but left his hands partially outstretched.
“Exactly,” he said. “I don’t know what we are. I didn’t know what to expect when you returned.”
Catheryn sniffed haughtily. “Neither did I, but I wasn’t expecting that.”
Selwyn raised his eyes to
the heavens, and sighed. He didn’t know where he stood with Catheryn, but wherever he was, he hated it. “As soon as we’ve discovered the identity of your romancer, we can just go back to how things were before. It’s much easier being your steward than…whatever this is.”
Catheryn felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Her jaw fell open.
“I understand,” she said finally. “I’ll be relieved to finally find out who this man is. He evidently has soul, and wisdom. I think I may be falling in love with him anyway.”
Now it was Selwyn’s turn to be astonished. “You think you’re falling in love with him? You’ve never met him!”
“His words speak for themselves,” Catheryn shot back. “He clearly adores me, and that is good enough for me.”
Selwyn spluttered. “Good enough for you?” He took a step forward, and Catheryn was once again reminded of just how...male he was. “Good enough for you?”
By this point, there were only inches between Selwyn and Catheryn. Catheryn tried to look away from his deep piercing eyes, but it was as if they were drawn back there every time she attempted to look away. There was something in them, something dark and passionate and wonderful.
“The thing is, Catheryn,” Selwyn said quietly, and Catheryn had to lean slightly closer to him to hear what he was saying, “that you don’t deserve anyone.”
“What? How dare you – ”
“You misunderstand me,” he said, stopping her from continuing. “It is not that you do not deserve to be happy. It is that no one alive has yet earned the privilege and honour of being with you. You are a diamond amongst dirt, and when you do find someone…”
Selwyn’s right hand reached up, slightly trembling, to push a wayward wisp of hair back under Catheryn’s veil. Where his skin touched hers, they both felt a tingle and a slight burn.
“…he will lack nothing. At this very moment, he lacks but thee.”
Catheryn put a hand out towards him, but it was intercepted by one of Selwyn’s own. It pressed something cold into her warm palm, and then he was gone.
She looked around her as if she had imagined it. But no, within her hand was the proof that he had been there, that he had said those heady, wonderful things. It was a piece of parchment. Catheryn unfolded it, and read the words that caused a thrill to chase down her spine and into her very toes.
Past are his woes, he has won through his perils,
He lives in plenty, no pleasure he lacks;
Nor horses nor goods nor gold of the mead-hall;
All the wealth of earls upon earth
Belongs to my lord, he lacks but thee.
Chapter Ten
The day had dawned bright and full of bird song, but there were two people that had barely slept. Dark circles ringed their eyes, and their snatched sleep had been filled with tormenting dreams and faces that they did not choose to recognise.
Catheryn and Selwyn did not look their best that morning as the household came together to break their fast.
“My word, Catheryn,” said her mother. “You do not look well at all.”
“I had trouble sleeping,” Catheryn replied firmly. “I am quite well, thank you my lady mother.”
Hilda looked as if she wanted to enquire further, but after a small shake of his head from her husband, she returned to her meal, turning her fretful mind instead to the coolness of the morning.
As soon as it was polite to do so, Catheryn left the room. She had studiously ignored Selwyn, who merely strode into the room to pick up some bread, and then left almost immediately. In a way, she was glad of it. Catheryn needed to think. She needed to ponder over exactly what was going on – not only in the world, but in her own heart.
It was a beautiful day, and Catheryn made her way to her favourite field. Dropping down, she scattered the three love notes that she had received into her lap, her green dress spread over her crossed legs.
They were all so beautiful. They spoke of love, love from a distance, love without that surety that surely all love deserved.
Catheryn picked up the last one, the one that Selwyn had so secretively and mysteriously thrust into her hand that previous night.
Past are his woes, he has won through his perils,
He lives in plenty, no pleasure he lacks;
Nor horses nor goods nor gold of the mead-hall;
All the wealth of earls upon earth
Belongs to my lord, he lacks but thee.
Catheryn blinked. What was it that Selwyn had said to her with such passion, in a voice that had trembled when he spoke?
“He will lack nothing. At this very moment, he lacks but thee.”
Her eyes fell onto the piece of parchment. He lacks but thee.
And then realisation, cold, hard, painful realisation hit her, right in her ribs.
Selwyn.
It couldn’t be.
How could it be Selwyn? He was the one that had been helping her discover who was writing them – the servant told her that it was a thane! But Catheryn thought once again about the thanes, and knew in her heart that none of them could have understood, let alone copied out, such beautiful words.
It was always Selwyn who had been making her laugh, and he whose company she had sought out. Even during her three days at the royal court, she was not interested in their finery, or the potential rank that she could gain from being there. No; Catheryn had only thought about one man.
Selwyn.
Which is ridiculous, Catheryn mused, allowing herself to fall back and luxuriate in the green grass. Selwyn’s only a steward. He’s only…
Handsome. Almost hypnotic in the way that he catches her attention. And whenever she was near him, there was that – that feeling that she was not alone. Of course, technically every time she was with anyone she did not feel alone, but with Selwyn she didn’t feel lonely.
“Catheryn?”
Without looking, she knew exactly who that was.
“Come and sit with me, Selwyn,” she called, not bothering to open her eyes.
Catheryn felt, rather than saw, him sit down beside her. Selwyn was careful to leave about three fingers widths between them – if he was going to have to speak, he needed to make sure that his tongue would obey him.
“Catheryn, I need to talk to you.”
“You do?” Catheryn said, nonchalantly, finally opening her eyes and sitting upright. Selwyn swallowed. He could not believe that she did not realise how stunning she looked, sitting there looking at him with a hint of a smile dancing across her face, and golden sun pouring down onto her, making her glitter like a diamond.
“Yes,” he said, with a swallow. “About those notes.”
“What, these?” Catheryn picked them out of her lap and carelessly dropped them in front of Selwyn. “I’m not interested anymore. I…”
Catheryn was fully intending to reveal him – to shock him into admitting his undying love for her. But looking across at him, at the seemingly nervous state that he was in, it happened.
Catheryn fell in love with him.
And she realised that she had not even realised that she had already been falling, falling since she had first received the note. Suddenly, everything that Selwyn did mattered so much more than what anyone else did. Catheryn trusted him, and he made her smile and…it felt like madness, and happiness, and a sharp pain, all at the same time.
“Catheryn, I have something to confess.”
Catheryn suddenly realised that Selwyn had said something, but she couldn’t remember exactly what it was.
“Selwyn?”
Selwyn wrung his hands together. He had spent all night preparing for this moment, and yet still he did not feel ready. He was a fool, a complete fool. As they had stood outside last night, he had realised that the feelings he had cultivated for Catheryn – dislike, and almost fear – had totally gone. From the first day that they had talked, really talked, Selwyn had realised that everything that he thought he knew about Catheryn was completely wrong.
Ca
theryn was bright. She was clever, and caring. There was talk amongst the servants already about how she had found a healer for Mildred who was due to bear her child any day now. Catheryn didn’t just see joy everywhere, she looked for it, and when she couldn’t find it, she created some.
Selwyn loved her more than he dreamed possible. He now had a thundering in his gut that meant he wanted to protect her from everything, anything that could harm her. How on earth could he have been so stupid as to begin this charade?
Because Selwyn knew that he would never be able to tell Catheryn how he felt about her until she knew the truth: that he had started writing the love notes in an attempt to belittle her.
Selwyn cursed himself at the very thought. But it must be told. Catheryn must know the truth.
“I wrote the letters,” he blurted out.
There was silence. Catheryn had not expected his confession to be so, well, blunt and to the point. Where was the declaration of love everlasting?
“You…you wrote them.” She eventually said, realising that he was not about to say anything until she had spoken. He was staring at her with slightly wild eyes, and there was no smile on his face.
Selwyn sighed, and spoke quickly. “Please know, before I say anything else, that I regret it immensely.”
Catheryn’s heart sunk. Of course – this was exactly how she should have expected it to happen. Selwyn was happy to send her notes speaking of love before he’d even spoken to her, but now they had spent so much time together, he was clearly having second thoughts. He wanted to make sure that she wasn’t expecting a proposal any time soon, and that he regretted the illusion of love that he had created.
“Do not concern yourself,” Catheryn said dully, rising to her feet. “I do not blame you. You could not have known me at the time. You owe me nothing.”
Selwyn watched, confused, as the woman that he loved started walking away from him.
“Catheryn!” He shouted, getting up to follow her. She did not turn around, and so he was obliged to run to catch up with her.
Selwyn caught hold of her arm, and spun her around so that she had no choice but to face him. “Catheryn, please listen to me.”