Page 276 of Historical Hotties
Janet took her little sister by the hand and pointed at the pond. “Blake,” she said. “Blakey? What’s that?”
Joan looked at the water. “Boty!”
Janet looked at Caledonia. “See?” she said. “She calls water ‘boty.’”
Caledonia’s brow furrowed. “But why?”
Janet shrugged. “She screamed too much when she was a baby,” she said. “Madam Madonna told us not to talk to her until she stopped screaming. She still screams, but she cannot talk.”
Caledonia was horrified to hear that. “She cannot talk… at all?”
Janet shook her head. “Madam Madonna said she had too much of our mother in her and we weren’t to talk to her until she learned to be obedient.”
The child didn’t even seem to care that she was telling her own mother what Madam Madonna said about her. She was speaking very matter-of-factly.
Caledonia’s horror was only intensified.
“But… but she’s only a baby,” she said, looking at the dirty child. “How is she to learn words if no one speaks to her?”
Janet shrugged. That was as much as she knew. Caledonia felt so much sorrow that she lowered her head so the children wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. She’d known that coming to Stafford would be difficult, and this was as bad as she had feared. Probably worse. As she wiped at her eyes, she caught sight of Darius’ legs in her periphery. Turning in his direction, she could see him over by the yard gate along with two royal soldiers. By the expression on his face, she could see that he’d heard everything.
“Go about your duties, Darius,” she said quietly. “There is no need for you to remain here.”
Darius nodded but didn’t move. “Would… would you like me to remain, my lady?” he said. “Mayhap I can… help.”
Caledonia shook her head. “Thank you, but nay,” she said. “Please go about your duties.”
Darius and the soldiers left the yard without another word. When they were gone and the gate was secured, Caledonia returned her attention to the two moppets in front of her.
For a moment, she simply looked at them.
Janet was more like Robert. Her hair was pale, like her mother’s, but she had blue eyes like Robert had. She had his height, too. She was tall. The youngest, Joan, was more like her, but Caledonia thought she saw a bit of her mother in the child. Honestly, it was difficult to tell what she looked like because she was covered with filth.
It was truly baffling.
“What were you and your sisters doing out here?” she asked Janet. “Do you not have lessons? Or tasks to complete?”
That meant nothing to Janet. “What tasks?”
Caledonia shrugged. “I do not know,” she said. “Helping in the keep? Learning to sew? What does Madam Madonna tell you to do?”
“Nothing,” Janet said as her sister stuck a dirty finger up her nose. “She tells us to go to bed and when to wake up, but then she goes away.”
Caledonia frowned. “What do you mean by that? Where does she go?”
Janet shrugged. Then she yawned and looked around the yard as if uninterested in the question. “She just goes,” she said.
“But who feeds you? Who conducts your lessons?”
“We do not have lessons,” Janet said. “If we want food, we go to the cook. Sometimes she gives us bread in the morning, but sometimes she has none. Blakey eats the dirt because she is hungry. My chicken lays eggs for us to suck, but not always. At night, when the men are feasting, sometimes we are given a bowl with food. We share it.”
Caledonia’s horror reached new heights as she heard of her children’s daily life. “But… but no one takescareof you?” she asked.
Janet didn’t even know what that meant, so there was no answer to give. Caledonia was so overwhelmed that she didn’teven know what to say. Her children were pale, thin, dressed in rags, and eating dirt.
A mother’s worst nightmare.
She was precluded by asking further questions when Thor made an appearance. He came through the yard gate, from the bailey, and Caledonia immediately saw him. She rose from her crouched position, where she had been speaking to her younger children, watching him approach her. He looked at her, at the girls, and seemed almost apprehensive.
