Chapter Thirteen
Annette inhaled the fragrant aroma of cinnamon and baking sugar as she stared out the kitchen window. It was another one of those tedious mornings for the inhabitants of The grey Gosling. Though occasionally the sound of feet echoed up and down the stairs, the inn had been very quiet for the past few hours. To make use of the spare time Lottie had asked for her help with some of the baking. The weather had been uncomfortably warm for most of that week. A stifling heat had invaded the countryside, driving folks indoors and causing a breakout of sweats in even the most temperate of people. Just about every window had been pried open in a desperation for a cooling breeze. With her fingers mindful of the knife she was using to slice up the plums Lottie had propped on the counter beside her, Annette couldn't help but study the rose garden that was right outside. Out of some miracle of fate, the warmth had not destroyed the flowers that she loved to sit amongst. Though it dried the grass and withered the leaves on the apple trees, the roses stayed in full bloom. Somewhere above their heads Herald was stirring in the room he had rented the night before. Like a mouse he often could be heard scurrying across the floorboards, ransacking his luggage in search of a book or a scrap piece of paper than he recalled jotting notes on.
Despite his presence Lottie was still insistent that she carry on with her daily chores. In centre of the kitchen she stood with at least a dozen completed pies perched on a table beside her. Though she had tied it back with a white scarf, her hair was wild and tangled from an absence of proper care. Whenever the mans feet thumped above her head she would purse her lips together as if experiencing some displeasure. In the warm daylight her engagement ring twinkled like a fallen star on her rough and calloused finger. Every now and then she'd pause and twist it back and fourth with a vague impatience, searching her thoughts before carrying on. Though her actions had piqued the other girls curiosity, Annette was sensible enough to avoid questioning Lottie's behaviour. Though she wouldn't dare confess it out in the open, she was already somewhat aware of what was troubling her mistress.
Ever since her fiance's arrival at the beginning of the week Lottie had become visibly distracted. It was only the other day when Annette was busy changing the sheets of some of the rooms upstairs that she discovered why. The door to Heralds room had been slightly ajar when she walked past it and the voices from within had compelled her to stop and listen. Inside, Lottie was pacing impatiently trying to change the curtains. With her feet planted firmly on a stool she sighed at the damage the harsh sunlight had dealt to the fine lace and trimmed fabric. “Lord almighty would you look at this!” She bemoaned while her fingers running sadly through the drapery. “These are all but ruined. The sun has faded their prettiness. Curse this summer, I shall have to replace every pair in the building if it gets any brighter.” Herald sat at the writing desk casually scribbling something down as he listened to her bitter complaints. With a heavy sigh Lottie placed the old curtains onto a nearby nightstand and wiped her hands off on the apron of her skirt. She stepped down from the stool, shrieking when it wobbled underneath her. “Damned leg on this thing. It wobbles like a drunkard in the streets.” She remarked as she turned it over onto it's back and knelt down to inspect each leg. Sure enough, one of them wiggled when she nudged it, causing a heavy frown to set into her brow.
“Are you alright dearest?” Herald asked as he momentarily looked up from his writing. “You seem a little bit flustered today.”
“What are you going off about? Tis a lovely day and my work is nearly complete.” Lottie answered firmly as she got back up onto her feet. “I'm fine. Just havin' one of those months when everything decides to squeak, fade, or break on me is all. One of the plights of being an innkeeper. Sometimes I forget that this old place ain't made of stone.” She paused momentarily, leaning forward for one final inspection of the stool. Shaking her head, she threw her hands up into the air. “Look, this one is damaged!” She remarked as she picked it up by one of it's legs. “Damn shame too. The man who made it has abandoned this part of the countryside. I'll have to make a trip into the city for a new one.”
Herald nodded, agreeing with her sentiments. “And what about those curtains?” He questioned, pointing at the sat bundle of lace that Lottie had carelessly tossed over her shoulder.
She shook her head. “Can't afford everything at once I'm afraid.” She answered with a weak smile. “Takes a pretty penny to replace some of them and I've already had to replace three chairs recently. Can't afford everything all at once.”
“If you require the funds Elizabeth, you need only ask.” Herald groaned as he rose up out of his seat, cracking his back as his fiance gave him a sullen look. “One of my recent publications has been selling rather well recently and I am not well versed in the act of making purchases. If you asked for every stick of furniture to be replaced I would gladly oblige.”
“But I haven't asked. And for a good reason. I do not need anyone else's help.” Lottie answered stubbornly although Annette though she sensed a momentary hesitation in the woman's voice. She had certainly considered the offer at least, though her pride wouldn't let her accept it. She watched Herald pace towards the nearby dressing table, scarcely able to focus her attention on anything other than him.
“Does it offend you that I made such an offer?” Herald opened a drawer and began rummaging around in it. The clank of metal and rustling of papers suggested to Annette that he was hunting for another lost note page. “In the past I can recall that you were happy to receive a gift from me...” There was a distinctive concern in his eyes and although he never stopped searching, it appeared that the woman had consumed his attention at that moment.
“Those were only minor offerings.” Lottie sighed with a dismissive roll of her eyes. “You cannot compare the act of receiving pretty little baubles to what you are suggesting. Besides; I swore to myself that I would never allow myself to become a charity case. I can earn my own keeping Mr. Kent. Thank you very much.”
“I am not some stranger taking pity on your poverty Elizabeth. I'm your fiance!” As he spoke Herald withdrew his hand from the drawer. “I know something is troubling you. Ever since I got here you have withdrawn from me as if we were two strangers.” He looked, to Annette, as if annoyed by some unseen disturbance and when he stepped away from the dressing table she could help but wonder if this was anger that was surfacing in him. “I cannot recall causing you any offense,” He spoke, pausing to pick at a loose thread hanging off his vest. “But if I have then grant me peace and tell me what it was so I can apologize and be done with it.” She had never seen Herald Kent express any outburst. Emotions seemed to flow over him like a gradual trickle of water. But in that moment he seemed as if annoyed and she found herself leaning forward to peek into the room better.
“I'm a mess aren't I?” Lottie took a hesitant step back still clutching the curtain and the broken stool. She seemed to been studying the floorboards underneath her feet as she scuffed her foot across a worn out spot nearby. “You know last week your father wrote to me. Sent me one of those pretty letters I've seen him sendin' off to important people a thousand times before. It slipped under my front door one day while I was sweeping the floor.” Annette frowned. She recalled this letter that her mistress was describing. It had appeared one morning right before they started the morning chores. She'd seen Lottie stuff it down the front of her dress after skimming through it but never thought to ask her what it was all about. Though she'd heard that Lottie had a decent relationship with her fiance's family there were rumours of some underlining tension still. The Kent household was eager to see Herald married off and were growing impatient.
Herald lowered his head, heaving a deep sigh for a moment before replying; “I know which letter you're talking about. I tried to dissuade him but he's very insistent. He can be impatient when it comes to these sort of things. Have you answered him yet?” He waited for her to respond but Lottie seemed to had become a mute. Her forehead crinkled as worry spread over her face. At that moment Herald approached her, taking the curtain and the stool from her hands and placing them onto the floor. “It's just a wedding Lottie. It's not that terrifying.”
“Yes it is!” She cried, bunching her skirt up in her hands. “I don't know how to handle planning a wedding. Not by my lonesome. And after that what comes next? Marriage!”
“Goodness, You sound as if you only just realized this!” He made a sound when he replied, turning his head away from her to conceal the fact that he was smirking.
“Don't you make fun of me like that!!” Lottie's hair had fallen out of her kerchief as she shot him a irritated glare amusing him further much to her chagrin. She tried in vain to put it back into place but every time she did one of her untamed curls would spring out from under it. “It's not the marriage that frightens me. It's everything that comes with it. When we're married what will become of me? What happens to The Grey Gosling?”
“You'll stay right here and carry on as you always have.” He insisted. “That is what you want. And I am happy to oblige.”
“That's a charming idea, but it will never happen...” There was something off about Lottie's voice at that moment. She seemed defeated, as if someone had cornered her. In her exasperation she had gone over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. “The only reason your father gave us his blessing was because he is hopes I will settle in with you somewhere in the city like a good wife ought to. I imagine the family'll be wantin' children soon after too.” Herald didn't have an answer for her this time. His normally witty deposition had been silenced by the sting of a possible reality and the only evidence that the man hadn't simply died was the faint sound of his feet strumming against the floor. He sat beside her now with the bed mattress groaning in protest under his weight. The edge of his leg brushed against Lottie, sending an odd quiver through her body that distracted her away from her troubles. “Don't sit so close to me.” She hissed, nudging him with the calloused palms of her hands. But Herald would not be pushed aside. He remained where he was, leaning in so that there was a minimal amount of space between their two bodies.
“Does it trouble you when we sit so near like this?” He asked her, placing one ink stained hand upon her knee. For a moment Lottie looked like she might slap him away but the fire passed quickly, and though her eyes loitered on that intrusive limb she didn't do anything to resist it. “You have kept your distance quite a deal recently. The more my family asks for a date the more you withdraw.”
“I don't want to make a fuss.” Lottie sighed impatiently as she looked about the room, perhaps hoping she would find something to distract herself with. “It's not proper for you and I to be spendin' this much time off on our own. I don't want people asking questions.”
“What questions could they ask? Everything that has already happened between us is common knowledge now. It has been for months. As I distinctly recall, you once stated that you didn't care what people thought and that you enjoyed what we did. Don't you remember?” Herald shrugged, causing Annette to lean in just a little more. So the rumours about them were true. Though she hadn't wanted to believe the story of Lottie and Herald's relationship was a bit of legend to the regulars of the inn. They said that Herald met her one evening after a had blizzard chased him into the Gosling. He was only there to escape from the cold for a little while but he found the innkeeper too intriguing to walk away from. Lottie was still new to the task of being a business owner and her wild temper had made her notorious among the locals. When Herald had seen her, with her creamy skin and her wild red hair she must have seemed like something from the otherworld. Even on her worst days Lottie always had a presence unlike other women. She carried herself with a certain assertiveness and smelled like a mixture of berries and mint from the herbs she grew in her garden. Though not always the grandest of speakers but her distinctive accent gave her a elvish quality that attracted him immediately. The Irish innkeeper provoked something in Kent that he couldn't express around delicate ears. It was potent mixture of lust and intrigue; he wanted her and his senses desired her. So he sat there in that place for a long time, knocking back glass after glass of beer and ale just so he had an excuse to stay longer. Lottie was more than happy to entertain her guest but she had never suspected there was something else to his smile than ordinary friendliness. Nobody else was staying at The Grey Gosling that night and as the hours worn on so did the drunken stupor Herald entrapped himself in. One time Lottie had told Annette that the only honest men in this world are the drunk ones. She must have learned this because of that night, for almost every variation of the story had Herald confessing his attraction towards her.
She tried to brush off most of his advances having resolved to her life of perpetual celibacy. She was well into her twenties even back then, well beyond the age of most brides and mistresses. The thought that this one was so deeply attracted was an alien thing to her. No man before had ever expressed anything similar. Even in her younger years when it certain she could have been targeted. So she brushed it aside and drunken foolishness but Herald Kent was a force to be reckoned with. Even with his senses dulled he had concluded that he wanted this woman; this strange innkeeper and there wasn't a thing she could have done to dissuade him. He spoke with her all evening, luring her with that spectacular charm. Eventually Lottie relented and opened up a little bit to him. She spoke of her life honestly, but when realized shortly after that this had all been very dangerous. She was crossing that terrifying threshold after all, one that would have made this man into something more than a stranger. That prospect frightened her so she excused herself and retired to her room. But even there Heralds spell still continued to poison her. It provoked an odd reaction from Lottie, who had never before dealt with the affections of a male before. At some point she must have decided that she felt the same way. Or maybe she was just desperate to feel something besides exhaustion...
Depending on who you asked what happened next became the climactic point in the evening. In the darkness of the upper floor the two waited through the storm and eventually succumbed to whatever madness that was consuming them. They spent the night curled up in each others arms, testing the limits of each others passions and when the dawn came they found that their worlds have changed forever. Herald did not abandon Lottie as one might have expected. He continued to return to her once a month afterwards until eventually he proposed. Annette had always believed that it was a slight exaggeration. She could not imagine a man like Herald accepting a woman on her own terms. Now as she watched the innkeeper, with her fiances hans stroking the top of her knee, somehow that story didn't seem as foolish. A moment passed between them as they mused over that memory. Lottie seemed disturbed, but Herald's expressions never venture too far amusement.
Lottie found it better to retreat at that embarrassing moment. Whether that story had been fabricated or not the simple act of bringing it into in her thoughts stirred up every anxiety the woman was capable of. With a spiteful little humph she rose to her feet, brushing his hand aside as if he were a deviant child. Then with a flourished swish of her skirt she turned and started towards the door. Herald instantly tried to follow in pursuit of her of course for he refused to be cast aside so brazenly. As he moved forward in pursuit of the woman his foot snagged the hem of her skirt. A deafening rip filled the room and in a instant the two of them went tumbling onto the floor together. Herald landed on top with an agonizing thump and he groaned as he felt Lottie squirmed beneath him. She was trapped under the weight of his body, hissing wildly like an angry cat as she tried to shove him off of her. There was hole in her skirt now. Annette could see that it started right above her knee and was so long that even the most dedicated mending would have never repaired it. She bit her lip, mourning for Lottie's misfortunes for she knew that was her only good skirt. What would she do now?
“You get off of me!” The innkeeper growled as she clawed at the front of Herald's vest, popping off one of the buttons in a flurry of annoyance. No matter what she did that man just couldn't be angry at her. Even now with a seething look in her eyes she did not shatter his content exterior. He just smiled, propping himself up onto his elbows to relieve some of her discomfort. Lottie heaved when she felt the weight lifted off her chest but her irritation did not subside. When she caught him smirking at her she placed her hands across his chest and pushed against him, trying to shove the man off of her but to no avail. “I said get off!” She proclaimed, this time much louder than before. Annette gripped onto the door handle when she saw the way he reached out, wrapping his hands around Lottie's wrists to hold her door. Her pulse raced as a rage seeped into her. The movement echoed that terrible night when Lord Derrick had attacked but instead of the deafening screams she heard a wistful sigh and then the sound of low moan as Herald kissed his fiance. Lottie tensed at first, surprised by the act. But then her expression softened and the anger that had be racing through her disintegrated with a gentle sigh.
“Why are you so ashamed of what we do?” Herald murmured when he pulled away from her, loosening his grip on her now that her anger had succeeded. “When I touch you there is always passion in your eyes. But when we are done you pull away, as if the act itself makes you ashamed.” She didn't say a word but averted her gaze and a pinkish hue ghosted across the surface of her cheeks. Annette could scarcely conceal a gasp when she saw the way that he slipped his hands under Lottie's skirt and gripped her bare legs. “Do you dislike the way I touch you?” He asked as he slid his fingers across her thighs,sending a shiver through her body. Lottie had not said a single word in that time. Though her expression softened when he reached her waist and coaxed apart her thighs the only noise that came from her was a gentle mewling sound. Annette held a hand to her mouth as she stepped away from the door. The sounds from behind within the room were enough to tell her what transpired next. Despite the initial protest, Lottie was not a victim of Heralds amusement. She recalled how his actions echoed Lord Derricks so much earlier, disturbed by the fact that he had taken such a different path. There was nothing violent about this moment. She stood there frozen in time, feeling the blood pound in her ears. Though she vividly heard the sounds of their exchange and the breathless moans as Herald delved himself deep inside of Lottie she could not bring herself to flee. She could hear the woman groaning as she succumbed to all her feelings, whispering for him to go deeper. Annette felt a stinging sensation in the corner of her eyes as listened to them. This was not the way Lord Derrick had treated her. What was this behaviour? This gentleness? It seemed almost alien to her ears as she listened to Lottie's willful moans and the creaking of the floorboards as they quickened their pace. She could not recall a time when she had ever experienced anything like this herself. Though she had lived with a man just as Lottie did now, she had never been encountered with the same compliance that Herald offered to Lottie. When he held her down she sensed no violent intentions. And though he hadn't said anything, she knew that he would have stopped if Lottie asked him. They were a couple she realized as she stood there listening to the sounds of their intimacy. They indulged in each others company without a single thought that anyone else might be overhearing them. When they finished she quietly retreated into the nearest room and watched Herald retreat out the door. She caught glimpse of him from a window as he headed down the street, trying to outrun whatever recklessness that had just overcome him.
Lottie never spoke about what happened. Though Annette caught her trying to mend her skirt the very next day she brushed it off as an accident, grumbling out of the corner of her mouth when she stabbed herself with a needle. The two of them did their best with all they had but it still looked painfully obvious that it had been mended. When she put it on, Annette could see the faded look in her eyes. When she smoothed her fingers over the repaired hole and felt the uneven texture of where her stitches had gone all she could do was shake her head. She wore it for day and days, repairing the hole again when it got snagged on a blackberry bush outside. Then one day the two of them came back from picking apples and found a large box on the kitchen counter with a sealed envelope beside it. Lottie ripped the side open and retrieve a neatly written note that stated:
“Asking for help is not a sign of weakness.”
With a curious look in her eyes Lottie seized the top of the box and pulled the lid off. Inside was a brand next skirt in a pattern that was almost identical to the one she'd torn. She let it sit on the counter for two days until finally relenting and putting it on. A week later Lottie finally set a wedding date and ordered a dress in the darkest shade of cream that she could find.
