Donning the Beard Read online

  Donning the Beard

  EA Kafkalas

  Copyright

  Donning the Beard © 2019 by EA Kafkalas. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews. For more information eakafkalas.com

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  Cover design by EA Kafkalas

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  ISBN 978-1-951186-00-5

  Dedication

  For Thalia and Melpomene

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Book Club Questions

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  What’s Next On Your Reading List?

  For More Info

  Leave A Review

  Prologue

  Sebastian Guillemot knew the strong oak boards beneath his feet would have permanent footprints embedded in them from his incessant pacing as he anxiously awaited the news of his child’s birth.

  The dim candlelight and the humid evening gave his strong patrician features an eerie glow. He rubbed his eyes, trying to push sleep away. The screaming from his beloved was like a scythe poking through his head, and as she was soothed by Aimée’s calming presence, so was he.

  Aimée Bonte had been with the Guillemot family since she was a child. Now in her thirties, she was a maternal influence on the household. Running a tight ship, she was firm but fair in her dealings with the other servants. It was a gift that Sebastian appreciated, given that his time in the King’s Army took him away for long periods of time. Never did he worry about the condition of his estate—it was in good hands.

  The trumpet wailing of a baby announced the arrival of his prodigy. He allowed himself to sit, breathing a sigh of relief. He knew he should desire a son, as most men did—someone to carry on the family line. However, his Evangeline had longed for a little girl. He could see it in her eyes when they spoke. She would never give voice to it, but Sebastian knew, and he wanted his beloved to have everything her heart desired, so he, too, secretly wished for a girl. He told himself there would be plenty of time for a son or two.

  Aimée entered with a newborn wrapped in bed linens. “A baby girl, my Lord.” Without asking, she deposited the child into his arms.

  He looked at the tiny babe in his arms, with eyes the color of robin’s eggs and taut black curls, like her mother. “She is beautiful.”

  “That she is.”

  He looked into his servant’s eyes. There were fresh tears, and a sadness that did not match the moment. There was something else as well; if he didn’t know better, he would have said it was fear. “What are you not telling me?”

  Aimée swallowed, choking back tears.

  “My Evangeline?”

  “We did everything we could, Sire,” she sobbed.

  The words did not register at first. Sebastian looked at the miraculous blessing from God resting in his arms, and back at Aimée. Her tears ran freely, having delivered the horrible news. He thrust the child into her arms, and raced into his wife’s bedchamber.

  A young servant sat by the bed, sobbing as she tried to clean the blood from between his wife’s legs. He had seen men on the battlefield with limbs cut off, but nothing prepared him for the horror of the river of blood that covered the bottom half of her body.

  “Leave us!” he hissed.

  Aimée’s hand was on his shoulder. “Sire, let us finish preparing her body. Then . . .”

  He jerked away from her hand, and dropped to his knees beside his wife’s bed. Her eyes were closed. Probably Aimée’s doing. Damp ringlets of hair stuck to her face. He gently pushed them away. Her skin was still warm to his touch. He placed his hand on her heart, hoping to feel the gentle beat against his palm. That beat which would calm him in his darkest moments. He longed to feel Evangeline’s strong fingers grasp his hand and place it firmly against her heart, all the while repeating, “All will be well, my love.”

  “There was too much blood. We could not stop the bleeding.” Aimée’s voice was choked. “We tried, Sire. There was nothing that could be done.”

  He wrapped his arms around his love’s limp body, pulling her to him. Waiting for her arms to do the same. Realizing that was never to be again, he let loose a howl, before the tears flowed like the rains God sent to purge evil from the earth.

  The baby wailed with him, in an inconsolable symphony that filled the night air.

  Chapter 1

  Madeline Bonte had never seen a house so grand as the large stone building that loomed in front of her. She clutched the hand of her aunt, the only living relative she had left. Her aunt had helped her tuck her wild mane of hair underneath the tight white cap. She felt hot and sticky in the summer sun, and the frock she was told to put on was not helping. Madeline missed the pantaloons her mother had let her wear. But if wearing the frock would bring her mother back, Madeline would have gladly done it.

  “What will I do here, Auntie?”

  Aimée smiled down at her. “Help me, my child.”

  Before Madeline could pursue further questions, she saw a young girl, around her age, standing by the window. The wind teased her dark curls, tossing them about. She was enchanting. “Who is that?”

  “The mistress, Gabrielle.”

  “Does she help you too?”

  Aimée laughed. “No, little one, she is Lord Guillemot’s daughter.”

  “I have never seen anyone so pretty.”

  “She is a beautiful child.” Aimée touched Madeline’s face. She tried to mask the sadness in her eyes with a smile, but Madeline saw the pain. “And you, you are the spitting image of your mother, God rest her soul. Come. Let me introduce you. Lord Guillemot has given his permission for you two to play together.”

  Madeline clung to her Auntie’s hand—afraid to let go and get lost in the cavernous rooms. They climbed the curved staircase, and went into a room that was the size of the cottage she had shared with her mother. A fancy blue design covered the walls. A large bed sat against the wall, and Gabrielle was seated on it. She was playing with a beautiful porcelain doll.

  “Good day, Aimée.” Gabrielle set her doll down and stood up. “Are you Aimée’s niece?

  Madeline nodded her head.

  Gabrielle extended her hand. “I am Gabrielle. What is your name?”

  Madeline felt the gentle squeeze before Aimée let go of her hand so that she could take Gabrielle’s. “Madeline. But most people c
all me Maddie.”

  “Such a pretty name.”

  “Not as pretty as Gabrielle.”

  “Aimée tells us you have come to stay because your mother died.”

  Madeline bowed her head, and began to twist the fabric of the skirt in her hands. Her mother’s death was still fresh in her mind, and she had trouble talking about it. “Auntie says she is with the angels now.”

  “My mother is with the angels, too. Do not be sad. My Papa told me Mama is happy with the angels. Papa says she is the prettiest angel, and one day, when I am very old, I will get to meet her. I am sure your Mama is one of the pretty angels, too.”

  “Do you think my Papa is with my Mama?”

  Aimée placed her hand on Madeline’s shoulder. “Yes, they are together.”

  “You will need a family,” Gabrielle announced. “We will be your family. Aimée and Papa and I will take care of you.”

  “Gabrielle, you have a wonderful idea. Only Madeline will care for you. She will be your lady’s maid.”

  “What would that mean?”

  “You choose my clothes, and help dress me. But do not fear, I know how to dress myself. We can make a game of it, as Aimée and I do.” Gabrielle looked at Aimée. “May we go play now?”

  “Remember to keep out of trouble.”

  “We shall. Come now, let me show you the grounds. They are very large and you may get lost if you do not know how to get around. I will show you all my favorite places.”

  She pulled Madeline out of her room, and they went out into the gardens that surrounded the estate. Beyond an ornate wrought iron gate in front of the estate sat a field of lilac, ochre, and crimson wildflowers that were as tall as they were. Gabrielle ran through the flowers laughing, and Madeline was sure she’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

  Chapter 2

  Madeline sat at Gabrielle’s writing desk, clutching the pen tightly in her hand. She copied the letters Gabrielle had written down for her slowly, trying to learn them as she went. She could feel Gabrielle sitting next to her, peering over her shoulder. She did not mind.

  “Yes, that is the way,” Gabrielle encouraged her. “Try to have less curve in your loops. Make them smaller. Let me show you.” She took the pen and demonstrated.

  Madeline watched, trying to commit everything to memory.

  “See.”

  Looking at Gabrielle, she said, “Auntie does not read or write.”

  Gabrielle handed her the pen. “Then you shall be the first.”

  Madeline knew her aunt would not be happy to hear she was learning to do something she could not. But Gabrielle was so happy teaching her, and she loved everything she learned. Still, she said, “I fear what we are doing is wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “Auntie says someone of your station would normally not play with someone like me. She says you play with me only because your father has granted you permission.”

  Gabrielle put her arms around Madeline and kissed her on the cheek. “Aimée may speak the truth about others. However, I will tell you what I know to be true. You are my dearest friend. I love no other as I love you.”

  Reveling in the warmth of Gabrielle’s arms, she explained, “And I love you, Gabrielle. Which is why I do not wish to cause trouble for you.”

  “You will not cause trouble for me.” She smiled. “I do not believe what they say. You are no different than I. Why should you be denied the chance to read the books that I read?”

  “I only know what Auntie tells me.”

  “I want you to read. Surely, Papa cannot expect that I have no one to discuss things with. And you learn so quickly, no one will know what we are doing. It will be our secret.”

  “Do you really think I learn quickly?”

  Gabrielle smiled. “I do not think it – I know it. You are very clever.”

  Madeline concentrated on writing her letters again, but wanted to hear her friend’s voice, which she had come to adore. “Tell me again the story of Persephone. I love the way that name sounds.”

  “I do, too. Once upon a time, the god of the underworld, Hades, wanted a bride because he was lonely. He went to Mt. Olympus to ask Zeus for a bride. Zeus told Hades the goddess of the earth, Demeter, had a beautiful daughter named Persephone. Hades’ task was to convince Persephone to return to the underworld; if he could, then Zeus would bless their union. Hades went to visit Persephone, and upon seeing her beauty, he snatched her up and took her back to the underworld with him. Demeter was outraged that her daughter had been kidnapped. She went to Mt. Olympus and asked Zeus to return her daughter. Demeter told Zeus that if he did not return her daughter, she would make the earth barren – nothing would grow, and people would starve and die. For that is how much she loved her daughter. Then Zeus told Demeter that as long as Persephone did not eat anything in the underworld, she could return. Hades found out that Persephone had eaten 3 pomegranate seeds, and proclaimed that she must stay. Then Demeter cast her spell upon the earth – it was cold and barren and nothing grew. The people were outraged and cried out to Zeus for help. Zeus made Hades return Persephone for nine months every year to the earth to be with her mother. And every time Persephone returns, the earth comes alive again, and the flowers bloom, and we call that time of year Spring. And when Persephone goes back to Hades, Demeter makes the earth barren again.”

  Madeline showed the finished paper with the letters neatly printed to Gabrielle. “Is this better?”

  “Yes,” Gabrielle exclaimed, “those are perfect!”

  Madeline set the parchment down, and looked longingly at Gabrielle. “Tell me another story. Please.”

  “Which one?”

  “You choose.”

  Chapter 3

  Gabrielle sipped the mint tea Madeline had brought her that morning. She watched Madeline carrying steaming buckets of water for her bath. She enjoyed the way Madeline’s upper arms strained under the weight of the two buckets. Every day, Madeline grew stronger. Gabrielle wished that she could be as tough as Madeline, or at least as accomplished. Although she could compete with her in the area of sewing—her embroidery was far prettier. She knew Madeline found it hard to sit still, unless she was immersed in the pages of a book

  “Your bath is ready,” Madeline announced. “I’ll come back after my breakfast to help you.”

  “When do you bathe?” Gabrielle inquired.

  “When my chores are done.”

  Gabrielle knew that wasn’t true. When Madeline finished her chores, she would spend time with her. She felt bad her friend did not have the same luxuries. “That seems silly.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, you have to carry buckets more than once a day. That seems like a waste to me.”

  “I don’t carry buckets. I bathe in the stream.”

  The thought of bathing in the cold stream made Gabrielle shiver. “So you have never had a hot bath?”

  “There are no vessels in the servants’ quarters.”

  “I have an idea. Why don’t we share?”

  Madeline dropped her head. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’d get in trouble.”

  “Nonsense. No one will know.”

  “Gabrielle, Auntie’s prepared my breakfast. I should go.”

  “Okay. Well, perhaps next time.”

  “I . . . don’t know . . .”

  Gabrielle touched Madeline’s arm. “I see how tired you are. I just think it would make things easier for you.”

  “I doubt Auntie will approve.”

  “I will talk to her. She will listen to me,” Gabrielle assured her.

  “Please get in before it’s cold. I’ll be back to dress you. Your father returned late last night. I’m sure he’ll want to breakfast with you. And I must repair the tear in your dress.”

  “I can do that,” Gabrielle offered.

  Madeline’s eyes widened. “Are you not happy with my sewing skills?”

  “Not at all. I ju
st wanted to help.”

  “It is my job to—”

  Gabrielle hugged Madeline. “I just want to help. I do not wish to do anything to get you in trouble.” She felt Madeline’s body soften in her arms, and breathed a sigh of relief. She kissed her friend’s cheek, and watched it turn red.

  Madeline curtsied. “Thank you. I should go and eat,” she blurted out, and ran out of the room.

  Madeline watched Gabrielle lay her robe over the chair next to the copper bathtub in front of the fireplace in her room. Seeing Gabrielle’s body wasn’t anything new, she usually arrived in time to wash her hair, then dry and dress her.

  Gabrielle stepped into the warm scented water. “The rosemary will help your muscles relax,” she told Madeline. “Hurry up and get in, before the water cools.”

  Madeline turned her back and shed her clothes.

  “Why are you being so shy, Maddie?”

  Madeline looked down at her lean body. She turned quickly, put a leg over the edge, and felt the warmth. “Oh, my! This is nicer than the stream.”

  “I imagine so,” Gabrielle chuckled.