What kind of father had the bailiff been? Poor Maud had already lost almost her entire family. She had only one sister left, who was married, and apparently an aunt, who lived nearby. Annabel’s body seemed to sink deeper into the mattress, weighed down by guilt and regret. O Father God, what have I done? What did I cause Stephen to do? It’s too, too terrible.
She had felt some brief moments of relief in thinking of the bailiff as unconscious. Perhaps it had been God’s will, his way of punishing the bailiff for what he had tried to do to her. But she couldn’t think that way now, not when she saw his daughter.
Oh, it was a wretched, wretched, most unfortunate night. She wished she could go to sleep and awaken to find it had all been a dream.
The awful thoughts from the night sank their claws into Annabel the moment she awoke. Mistress Eustacia came early and took Maud out alone, no doubt to tell her what had happened. But no message arrived for Annabel from Lord le Wyse, meaning the bailiff must still be alive. How would Maud react to her father’s accident? What if he regains consciousness and tells everyone that Stephen and I tried to kill him? She felt her body go cold. Would Lord le Wyse protect them from the bailiff’s accusations?
Annabel waited for Maud to return to the undercroft, but she never came.
The news spread quickly that something terrible had befallen Bailiff Tom, and soon every maidservant was talking about it. He had always seemed a kind man, they all said. Everybody liked him. Who would do such a thing? Few speculated he had fallen and hit his head — it seemed more exciting to believe he had been attacked.
Rumors spread, with people saying that he had met the devil in the woods. Others said he woke up long enough to call out his dead wife’s name and then fell back into a stupor. Some said he would never be the same even if he woke up, that he would be addlebrained and stupid and would drool.
Annabel tried not to listen to all the talk, but it was impossible not to hear it.
She eventually learned that Bailiff Tom had still not awakened and was lying lifelessly on his sister’s bed, and his sister was none too happy about it. The only barber in the village had proclaimed that bleeding him would not help him regain consciousness, and there was nothing that could be done for the bailiff. They’d simply have to wait and see if he woke up. In the meantime, his sister was to pour broth and water into his mouth three times a day and hold him upright until he swallowed.
After hearing the news, a nightmarish fog settled over Annabel’s thoughts and followed her every hour. She longed to speak to Lord le Wyse, to find out what he was thinking and if he thought the bailiff would recover his senses. But the only times she’d seen him that day were at meals, and he hadn’t said a word to her.
Her mind seemed heavy, tired, and haunted with the image of Bailiff Tom’s face as he held her knife in a menacing pose, of her own terror as he gripped her face and hissed in her ear, of Stephen hurling the heavy stone, and of the bailiff’s lifeless body. The images seemed to attack her at odd moments as she went about her duties of cooking and cleaning. By late afternoon she was nearly in tears.
Mistress Eustacia came into the kitchen with a basket of onions and set them down on the stone floor. “Child, you don’t look like yourself, you don’t. Are you ill?”
Annabel turned back to the pot she was stirring over the fire. “No, mistress. I am well.”
“I suppose we are all a bit upset, with the bailiff being injured so sudden and maybe on his deathbed. The poor soul. Had no chance at final rites, he didn’t. It’s almost as if the pestilence has come back. We all remember that dreadful time, we do.”
No, he certainly had no opportunity to repent or receive final rites. Annabel felt a stab of guilt, followed by anger. If he’d wanted to repent, he should have, before he got drunk, before he grabbed her in the dark forest and tried to hurt her. She shook her head at the livid thoughts then bit her lip.
“Child, you’re so pale. You don’t look well at all. Why don’t you go lie down in your bed for a while?”
The thought of being alone in the dark undercroft, or any other dark place, made her shudder. Her eyes burned, and her head felt heavy with fatigue. “I’d rather stay here with you, mistress. Truly, I am well.” Tears welled up in her eyes, probably because Mistress Eustacia was showing compassion for her — she who didn’t deserve it.
Mistress Eustacia watched her with concern in her eyes. She spoke softly. “Tell your mistress what’s wrong.”
A tear slipped out and Annabel wiped it away. Her heart beat faster as she realized she’d made a mistake by allowing Mistress Eustacia to see her distress. “Nothing is wrong. I’m only sorry for Maud. I know how it feels to lose a father.” More tears came and slipped down her cheeks. She wiped as quickly as she could with the backs of her hands.