Page 6 of Castle of Refuge

A movement caught Audrey’s eye. She turned toward the open doorway and saw Maris glaring at her. But when she saw that they had spied her there, Maris moved away from the door and was gone.

“You’ve made her angry.” Audrey’s voice was hoarse as she imagined how Maris might retaliate against them both.

Her father waved his hand. “She probably didn’t hear me. Besides, I’ve told her she will always have a home here. She doesn’t need to marry. She should thank you for getting married so she doesn’t have to.”

Surely her father knew. Maris would never see herself as the fortunate one as long as Audrey was living her life, getting married, and having children, while Maris was forced to remain at home, with nowhere else to go.

Audrey could certainly see the situation through Maris’s eyes. If she were told she could never marry and never leave her home, she would be grieved at having to miss out on having afamily and home of her own, and she would worry about what would happen to her after her father died. But to some extent, Audrey might also feel relieved. After all, the woman who never married had a measure of freedom that the married woman did not. But freedom to do what? She imagined she would one day get tired of reading and gathering wildflowers. After all, she wanted to do something significant in the world.

Maris... she certainly had hopes and dreams too. Surely she wished to love and be loved, as Audrey did.

When Audrey’s mother died soon after Audrey was born, her father acquired a nursemaid named Hattie to look after Audrey and Maris, who was only two years old. When Maris was about five years old, Sybil discovered that Hattie had been abusing Maris—slapping her, pinching her, even beating her. Sybil had found bruises on Maris’s body and began secretly observing Hattie. Hattie was tender toward Audrey and showed her favor, but she was spiteful and violent toward Maris. Sybil reported the matter to Father, and he immediately dismissed the woman.

Knowing of the abuse her sister had endured for three full years, Audrey could never hate Maris. What evils her poor sister had suffered, and as a small child, she must have blamed Audrey, at least in part. She had to have resented Audrey for being the pet, the loved one, while Maris was mistreated. Such a thing must have deeply affected her. And Audrey, though she knew she was not responsible for such evils befalling her sister, still felt a weight of guilt about how her very existence had caused Maris such harm. And it was never very far from her mind.

Yet Maris was unrelenting toward everyone around her,ragefully hitting and spitting and pulling hair, playing tricks on people and punishing them when they had done nothing wrong.

In spite of her father’s dismissive attitude regarding whether Maris had overheard him, Audrey’s heart was in her throat most of the morning, wondering how Maris would avenge herself over Father’s words, over how he was slighting her and favoring Audrey. But after only seeing a glimpse or two of her sister, by nightfall Audrey had ceased thinking about it.

She sat by the fire in the small upstairs solar with a couple of candles beside her, studying her lessons for the next day. When she finished, she would read a bit ofThe Song of Rolandin French. She had learned that language almost as well as she knew English.

Lying next to her was a tapestry she’d been embroidering. It was a garden scene with flowers and birds. She generally tried to work on it when Maris was not around. Maris never embroidered or sewed, as she had not the patience to remain still that long.

The sound of the crackling fire drew a long sigh from her as she nestled deeper in her chair with the book on geography her tutor had assigned her to read. She was imagining herself in one of the faraway countries on the map when she looked up and saw Maris staring at her.

Audrey quickly closed her book and folded her hands on top of it.

“What is that you’re doing there?” Maris had a strange look on her face, her voice oddly quiet.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing. Then you won’t mind getting up and fetching me something.” Maris sat down on a bench near Audrey.

Audrey took a breath. Why should Maris ask her to fetch her something? But it would be easier just to do whatever her sister wished. So Audrey waited to hear what her sister needed.

“Do you remember that small embroidered thing you gave me for my birthday?”

“The tapestry you laughed at and said looked like a small child had made it?”

“I did not like it at the time, but now I want it. I want to hang it next to my bed. Will you get it for me?”

Audrey’s heart thumped hard. What was her sister scheming? But perhaps she truly did want the tapestry. Audrey could not refuse her. It would seem unkind. Besides, even if Maris just wanted to insult Audrey’s work, she couldn’t hurt Audrey anymore with her criticism. Audrey no longer needed her older sister’s approval. She had surely grown that mature after all Maris had done. At least, that was what she told herself.

Audrey stood, taking her book with her, lest Maris wished to cut it up into little pieces, as she had done with some of her other books.

Audrey went to her bedchamber, laid her book on her bed, and went to her trunk. She found the small tapestry that Maris was referring to and took it back to the solar. But a lump had formed in her throat. Maris didn’t actually want the tapestry Audrey had made for her. Audrey cast about in her mind, trying to think where the nearest servant was, where her father might be, in case she needed protection.

She passed by her father’s bedchamber. The door was open, and he was talking to his steward about estate business. And a glance behind her showed Sybil walking toward her down the hallway. She felt some measure of relief, knowing if Maris tried to harm her, she could cry out and someone would be near enough to come to her aid.

She hated that she was so suspicious of Maris. She was her older sister, after all.

She walked into the solar. Maris had pulled her chair closer to the fire. She looked over her shoulder at Audrey and smiled. Audrey held out the small tapestry to her sister.

Maris took it from her hand, but as Audrey walked to her chair, Maris thrust out her foot. Audrey tripped over it. She couldn’t stop herself.

She grabbed for her sister’s hand, but Maris snatched her hand away. Audrey flailed desperately. But it was too late to put out her hands to break her fall.

She was falling toward the fire, face-first.