Lord of Misrule Read online

  Luke said nothing. All he knew was that the Kings were part of Katie's family, something he wasn't sure yet what he thought about.

  The two middle boys, Merlin Lachlan and Tony Dewitt, were nowhere to be seen when they reached Abel's cottage. Gabe, dressed in store-bought britches and a white linen shirt with wide, flowing sleeves, was supervising his younger brother, Micah, as the boy bathed. Katie's youngest brother, Rhys, dressed in a blue plaid shirt that looked new, sat in front of the fire, carving on a piece of light wood. Curious, Luke went to look over his shoulder. "A chain! I saw one of them, once. Always wondered how a person put all those links together without cutting 'em."

  "You don't," Rhys said. "Pa showed me how. What you do is carve them already linked. I'm not very good yet, but this link's better than those other two." He brushed shavings off his britches. "I could show you, if you want."

  Luke said, "I'd like that." Then he remembered that he wouldn't be here long enough to learn to carve a chain. "Sometime," he added, as he turned away.

  The thought of leaving gave him an empty feeling in his gut. He loved Katie, couldn't imagine living without her. But now that he'd seen where she came from, he was more than ever sure that she'd never be happy with him. Why on earth would she, when she could pretty much pick and choose among men with education and money.

  Men like Hamilton Steens Whitney III? No, not all men of her sort were crazy. He'd met some real gentlemen whilst he was a soldier, especially after he'd got the battlefield commission at Antietam. They'd been no crazier than anybody else in an insane war.

  Katie deserved better than Luke Savage, who never went to a real school, whose fortune consisted of two asses and a mule, and who didn't know much beyond soldiering and herding cows.

  "Gabe says the others are done bathing, so it's just you and me left," Abel told Luke. "You go ahead when Micah's through, so's you can get on up to the house early. There's usually some sort of frolicking afore dinner."

  Luke protested, but Abel wouldn't listen. "Plenty of time for me to get slicked up when you're done. 'Sides, I'd just as soon have the place to myself so I can have me a good soak."

  "I brought you some clothes, Luke," Gabe said from the doorway. "Aunt Hattie said she figured we're about the same size." He tossed a bundle to Luke. "She said you probably didn't have much in the way of dress-up gear with you."

  Luke unwound the bundle and found a shirt and britches. The shirt was white like Gabe's, the soft, creamy white of good linen, with mother of pearl buttons on the short placket and narrow cuffs. The britches were homespun wool, made from undyed wool so they had a tweedy appearance. For a moment Luke thought of refusing, then realized that to do so would be both rude and insulting the young man who was looking at him with an expectant expression. So he held the britches up to his waist. "They may be a little short, but that won't matter, long as they go around my middle." He was pretty sure they would. "I'm obliged, Gabe."

  "Glad to do it. Now, I'd better get Rhys and Micah up to the house. Ma said she wanted them under her eye, once they got cleaned up. Otherwise they'll be filthy before dinner. Let's go, boys."

  Luke looked after the three of them as they walked up the path toward the big house. "This is the damnedest family I ever saw," he muttered.

  "Ain't it just?" Abel said. "I ain't never seen the like. Good folk, though. Salt of the earth. You're a lucky man, Savage."

  "Yeah, I am, aren't I?" He went into the kitchen, where the big copper tub sat waiting for him. "Now, where'd you say the hot water was?"

  * * * *

  The early winter dusk had settled in earlier than usual because of lowering clouds that promised snow before morning.

  The smell of roasting turkey permeated the house. "There's a woman out west of town who raises poultry--chickens, gees, duck, turkeys, even guinea fowl. I bought half a dozen poults from her last spring," Ma told Katie when she'd wondered why they weren't having roast goose as they always had. "The coyotes got three of them, so I had two gobblers and a hen left. I stuffed those gobblers with kitchen leavings, until they were fat as ticks. Emmet reckoned this one weighed close to thirty pounds on the hoof." She opened the oven door to baste the bird and Katie saw that it all but filled the space.

  "We had turkey at Ellen's last year. Her cook made a chestnut dressing. I didn't like it much."

  "Mrs. Petrie had a receipt for sage dressing that was her ma's, so that's what we fixed. I sure hope there'll be enough food." Once the oven was closed again, she wiped her face. "This'll come out in about an hour, and then we can put in the turnips and the spuds. There's some extra dressing in that pot over there, too. If there's room, I'll heat it up."

  "No you won't. You're going to go take a nice long soak, then get all gussied up. The girls and I will take care of this. That's why you have daughters."

  "As soon as I've taken the turkey out and made the gravy."

  "You taught me to make gravy when I was twelve. I haven't forgotten how. You said everything else was ready to heat up, didn't you? And the girls can help me, as soon as they get done with the table."

  "But your nice new dress--"

  "Ma, my hair's fixed and I've got my corset all laced. All I have to do is change my dress while the gravy's cooking. Now go!" She pushed her mother out the door.

  "Well, if you're sure..."

  "I'm absolutely certain."

  Ma left, reluctantly. She'd been gone only a few minutes when Pa came in through the back door. He was still in his work clothes. Katie almost asked him where Luke was, then changed her mind. Either her husband would come to dinner or he wouldn't. No sense worrying about it either way.

  "Where's your ma?" Pa said once he'd hung up his coat and hat.

  "I chased her out. She's supposed to be taking a bath."

  Pa's eyes gleamed. "She is, huh?" He set the cup he'd taken from the cupboard back on the shelf. "Guess I'll go see if she needs her back scrubbed."

  Katie's cheeks went hot as fire. Somehow the idea that her parents still...well, played like that came as a complete surprise.

  It shouldn't be, she realized. They've never made any bones about how they felt. Remember those days they'd send us all off to Flower's? Ellen had a pretty good idea what they were up to, and she told you. It scandalized you, didn't it? Ma and Pa were old! Old people didn't carry on that way.

  Of course, she had been about twelve when Ellen had explained the facts of life to her. Ma had already told her about her monthlies, of course, but hadn't told her why she would bleed every month, just that when she did, it would mean she was becoming a woman. Before that Katie hadn't really connected the matings she'd seen in the barnyard with her own parents. Nor the fact that those matings resulted in calves and foals, pullets and piglets.

  Then Iris had been born, and Katie had realized that babies came about the same way. Her parents? They did that?

  They still did, if the gleam in Pa's eye hadn't lied.

  But they're not really old, are they? Pa's what? Fifty? And Ma's around forty-two or forty-three. That's a lot less than threescore and ten.

  She checked the turkey. It needed basting again.

  Luke and I could have had a life like theirs, if only we'd tried harder to get along. Oh, heavens, how am I going to explain to Ma and Pa--

  "Where's Ma?" Regina said from the door.

  "She's taking a bath. What do you need?"

  "When's dinner? I want to make sure everybody's here a while before. We--me and Lulu--have to get ready."

  Remembering some of Regina's schemes from when she was younger, Katie was immediately suspicious. "What are you up to?"

  "Well, Lulu was reading about Christmas customs in other countries, and we thought--"

  "Don't tell her," Lulu said, coming up behind Regina. "It's a surprise."

  "Tell me," Katie said, "or else." It was really hard to intimidate someone half a foot taller, so she concentrated her threatening expression on Lulu, who was closer to her height.

  "Oh
, it's a good surprise, Katie. Your ma already said we could. It won't make a mess or anything, and it'll only take a few minutes before dinner. But we have to have everybody in the parlor. We can't do it around the table."

  "Yes we could, but it wouldn't work as well. Honest, it's not a trick or anything," Lulu said." It's an English custom. An old one."

  Katie eyed the girls suspiciously. Although Regina's ideas had often resulted in some sort of comic disaster, Lulu had always been more serious and sensible. "Are you absolutely certain you're not going to create some sort of havoc?"

  "Cross my heart," Lulu said.

  Both girls soberly drew big X's on their chests.

  "All right, then. But you'll have to help me get the food on the table afterwards. I don't want Ma to have to do anything. She's already been cooking since before dawn."

  "We can do that," Regina promised, looking relieved. "Right after we--"

  "Right after we have the big surprise," Lulu said. "Now, come see my mamma's Christmas present for Aunt Hattie."

  The table was elegant, every bit as much so as anything Katie had seen Back East. China, crystal, silver were all of the best sort. The napkins were some she had sent her mother for Christmas two years ago, wide ecru linen squares with a narrow edging of crocheted lace. But the tablecloth was what immediately caught her attention. She touched a lacy medallion, traced the pattern that looked something like a pinwheel. "Oh, how lovely!"

  "Mamma's been working on it for years and years," Lulu said. "I wanted to help, but she wouldn't let me. She said it was something she wanted to do by herself, because she couldn't thank your mother any other way."

  Katie knew only that Flower had suffered greatly before her marriage to William and that she believed that Hattie Lachlan had saved her life. The family never talked about it, only that something bad had happened the summer they found Cherry Vale. "Has Ma seen it?"

  "No, that's why we've been keeping the doors closed. Mamma wants to be here when she comes in."

  "Tell Pa. He'll keep her out. Now, if you're through in here, I need your help in the kitchen. We're not going to let Ma wait on us this year."

  They set Iris to keep the men from coming in through the kitchen. "They have to use the front door. Tell them go right to the parlor," Lulu told the little girl. "Tell them we're having a special celebration before dinner." She and Regina kept an eye on the various pots and pans while Katie went upstairs to dress.

  At a quarter of six, Iris came in and said, "Luke and Abel just went around front, Katie. That's everybody. Can we go now?"

  The older girls had taken off to set up their surprise a while back. Everything was ready to dish up and serve, so Katie said, "Scoot. I'll be right there." She removed her apron and rolled down her sleeves. A good thing, she decided, she hadn't worn her velvet gown. She'd have had to sit quietly in the parlor while others cooked. This year it was Ma's turn to look elegant.

  When she entered the parlor, she saw that the girls had rearranged the furniture. Pa's big easy chair sat in the center of the room, empty. Everyone was sitting against the walls. One vacant chair remained, just waiting for her.

  Next to Luke.

  Chapter Seven

  She didn't look like the Katie he knew. Her dress was the color of summer-dry grass, not yellow, not gold, but rich and warm. The top clung to her slender body much too closely for his peace of mind, while the skirt swayed seductively with every step she took. When she sat in the chair next to him the skirt spread over his leg, clinging to the wool of his britches like a caress.

  "Hello, Luke," she murmured, under the din of conversation. "You look very nice."

  He wasn't certain if she was being nice, or surprised, so he didn't say anything. Truth be known, he didn't know what to say to her. They hadn't spoken since their angry words of last night.

  "Yoo hoo! Can every body be quiet? Please."

  The middle sister--Reggie? No, Regina, because she wasn't a baby anymore--was standing on a short stool, clapping her hands. "Quiet, please!"

  A shrill whistle cut through the noise. Everyone fell silent.

  "That's better. Now, I know you're all so hungry you could chew the carpet, so we won't keep you long."

  "Why are you keeping us at all?" Gabe called. "Dinner's probably getting cold while you blather."

  His sister swatted him with a cushion. "Yours'll be colder if you don't shut up."

  Regina cleared her throat. "'The Feast of Christmas lingers until Twelfth Night,'" she read from a paper in her hand. "'During that time, all revelry is in the charge of the Lord of Misrule. Tonight we will choose him by lot among the noble men of the house.'"

  The other girl shook the basket she held.

  "Iris, you can come in now," Regina called.

  The littlest girl strutted through the doorway, carrying a big gold-foil crown on a purple cushion. She came to stand next to Regina, who read from a paper in her hand.

  "'The Lord of Misrule will be responsible for ensuring that all in this house enjoy whatever pleasures they desire, and will lead the others down the merry path of dalliance and delight.' Iris, are you ready to choose?"

  "I am." Iris handed the cushion to her mother.

  Lulu held the basket out to Iris.

  Luke could see folded slips of paper inside it. "Wait!"

  Everyone looked at him. He felt his ears grow hot. "Never mind," he mumbled. Chances are he wouldn't be chosen anyhow.

  Iris made a big ceremony of stirring the slips, of choosing one. She slowly unfolded it and read. Her smile widened. "I'll let Ma say who it is."

  Mrs. Lachlan took the paper and looked at it. She smiled as widely as her daughter. "Well, this is fitting." One by one she eyed the men and boys in the room. "Sometimes we need a reminder that life is meant to be fun and that it's healthy to play. So I charge our Lord of Misrule to require that each and every one of us do one silly thing each day from now until Twelfth Night."

  She looked directly at him and smiled. "I'm sure you can do that, can't you, Luke?"

  Luke wondered if it was too late to run.

  It was. Both Lulu and Regina had him by the arms, pulling him to his feet, dragging him to the big chair in the center of the room. Helplessly he let them sit him down. Before he knew it, the crown was crammed onto his head. It was too big and slid down to catch on the bridge of his nose.

  "Hold still," Regina said, when he reached to push it back up. "We made it so it's easy to fit. Just a minute..."

  In less time than that, they had the crown so it sat firmly on his head. Iris stuck a stick in his hand, one that looked like a piece of broom handle all decorated with ribbon bows and streamers. "Your scepter, my lord," she giggled.

  Luke held it awkwardly, not sure what he was supposed to do with it. He became aware everyone was clapping.

  "Speech!" someone called.

  "Dinner!" someone else cried. "Speech later."

  Everyone cheered. "Dinner!" became a chorus.

  Mr. Lachlan stood and held out his arm for his wife. They led the procession to the dining room where they stopped suddenly halfway through the wide archway.

  "Oh, my stars!"

  He peeked around to see Mrs. Lachlan standing with both palms pressed against her cheeks. Tears glinted in her eyes.

  "Who did this?" she said, her voice uneven. "It's the most beautiful...the nicest..."

  "Mamma!" Lulu cried, at the same time Micah and Gabe chorused, "Our ma did it!"

  "Oh, Flower, you didn't!" Hattie Lachlan went to the table and laid her hands on the crocheted tablecloth, hundreds of small circles of lace in a warm, rich cream color. "Why it must have taken you years."

  "She begun it before I was born," Micah said proudly. "Do you like it, Aunt Hattie?"

  "Oh, yes." She reached toward Flower King and the two women went into each other's arms.

  "Here now, you two can carry on all you want after we get sat," Mr. Lachlan told them. He seated his wife on the right, Mrs. King on the left. "Now
, girls, it's your show."

  One on either side of him, Lulu and Regina herded Luke into the dining room. "You'll be at the head of the table," Regina said, "your highness. Between Ma and Aunt Flower "

  "No, I can't--"

  "Please Luke." His mother-in-law spoke quietly from her seat. "They are having a grand time. Help them enjoy it."

  Shamed, he stopped arguing. He let them pull out his chair, and he sat in it.

  At the other end of the long table, he saw Katie being seated, facing him. Too far away for speech between them. In between, tall crystal goblets and wine glasses sparkled, heavy silver gleamed on either side of every plate. A far cry from a log cabin in the wilderness.

  He hated it. Katie just knew Luke absolutely hated all the fuss. His fair skin, still peeling from long days of exposure to cold and pale winter sunlight, showed patches of red high on each cheekbone. She wanted to go to him, to protect him from her noisy, brash family.

  Instead she joined hands with her father and William, and gave thanks for good health, good food, good fortune. With the "Amen" she and the other girls jumped up to bring in the food.

  Halfway through dinner, Pa said, "Troubles, Katie girl?" The noisy conversations all around them ensured that his question came only to her ears.

  She shook her head. "We just had a spat. Everything's fine." Oh, how she wished it was. There had to be some way to mend the strife between them.

  "Ahuh! That's why he went out to the barn before you got up and never came inside all day long. Seems to me that's not what most new husbands would do, not when they've a soft bed and time on their hands."

  Katie wanted to sink into the floor. "Pa!" She couldn't believe he'd said that to her.

  His big, callused hand covered hers. "Katie, I'd've been a lot happier had you waited to wed Luke, for all that's he's a good man. The two of you had no time to get to know each other."

  "Yes we did. Why, we'd lived in each other's pockets for almost a month. I've never known a man as well as I know Luke. Except for family, anyhow."

  "I spent winters with Buffalo Jones," Pa said, "in a cabin smaller than this room. Just about the only time we ever were out of each other's sight was when we were asleep. A wise man doesn't go off alone in winter. Too many things can go wrong, too fast. We got along just fine the first year, but when spring came, we started arguing about everything. Let one of us hang his coat on the wrong peg, and we'd have our hands on our knife hilts. 'Twas a wonder we didn't kill each other, before we got to Rendezvous."