Come pull up a seat and join me here by the fire. I am Lady Milicent Shiveley and I would tell you the story of my one true love. It all began with the death of my mother when I was but a child. After her death I was raised by my step-father, who was a vile, vile man. Upon my reaching the age of 16, he decided it was time for him to take a new wife and I was to be it. I would have none of it as I detested the man, for he was cruel and a drunk. One dark night, I packed what I could carry and left his house to never look back. Thus began my journey into the world alone.
For the first few weeks after I left my step-father’s home it felt as though the rain would never end. My body ached for the comfort of a bed and a warm hearth to rest my weary feet upon. As a runaway with limited funds, I tended to sleep in abandoned barns and an under an occasional tree. Ever careful of strangers, I shied away from everyone in my quest to reach the Abbey. But one morn there was a loud crash, followed by deep laughter that roused me from sleep. I awoke to a giant of man lying at my feet. Seeing my sudden alarm, he arose and quickly introduced himself, “Please do not be alarmed, I am Jean-Claude de Lyon and mean you no harm.” He spoke with great polish and a charm that immediately set me at ease. Though barely of age, he proved himself well read and worldly. Through many conversations shared that day, I learned he too was searching for a place to call home. As fate would have it, we became traveling companions and with time, great friends.
After several months on the road and many misadventures, we finally reached Brockore Abbey. Gaining permission from the monks to settle just outside the walls of the Abbey, Jean-Claude and I built small huts for each of us. Life became very routine and we earned our keep. Jean-Claude hunted and did repairs with-in the Abbey. In return the monks taught him his letters and other knowledge, the likes of which only the wealthy received at University. As a female, I was not allowed within the walls of the Abbey, but I earned my keep and a small garden spot by cooking and sewing for the monks. Though not the luxury life I grew up with, it was a good life and one I have grown to cherish.
Winter passed and with it came the long days of spring. At the Abbey, spring meant cleaning everything, starting the summer gardens and the visits of many travelers and singing troupes making their way to the city. On one particular day, I was weeding my garden when I noticed a stranger staring at me over the gate. He spoke not a word, just stood and watched as I worked. I glanced up often intending to speak but each time I caught his eyes, it was as if I were struck dumb, unable to speak. Still he stood there not saying a word, merely smiling more and more each time our eyes met. Then I looked up and he was gone. My heart felt as though it had left my body and shattered into a million parts. Scolding myself heartily for such silly feelings, I rose and went inside to clean up and make myself a wee meal, all the time thinking on this stranger and who he was. I saw him often the next few days working at the Abbey, in the small village down the way, and oft times in the company of Jean-Claude. But never did I speak to him; surely he must have thought I was the village idiot!
And then, he was standing at my door! Again, I was speechless, but with a smile he said, “M’Lady, I am Donal Oneal and I shall call upon you this evening. I would be greatly pleased is you would join me for a stroll into the village.” I could only nod as he took my hand, kissed it and walked away still smiling. Once he was out the gate, my mind began to race and I was as flustered as a school girl. But I was ready at the appointed time and gladly took his arm as we strolled into the village. Listening as he spoke of his life, all I could think was how lucky I was to be in the company of such an exception man. He was beautiful to me with his dark hair and greying beard; I had to stop myself from drowning in his blue eyes. It was at the moment I knew I was hopelessly in love with a man that I didn’t even know! It was such a heady feeling that I didn’t bother to consider what exactly that meant or even what his intentions might have been.
From that day forward we spent a great deal of time together talking while strolling the village. I found myself falling more and more in love with the man, never thinking of what that truly meant. As Spring turned Summer and melted in Fall, our relationship blossomed and moved forward. By mid-fall night time found him quietly entering my home and staying until just before day break. Never would he enter the house before dark as he guarded my reputation with great care. We didn’t speak of marriage nor of how long he would stay, as we both knew he was a wonderer and staying put was not in his soul. And to my great joy, he chose to spend the winter months there with me as well. It was a time of great pleasure and joy for me. Someone to share my entire world with, something I had never had. And he loved me! Loved ME! The plain little runaway who had nothing to offer but her heart and her home. I felt like a queen and the future didn’t matter.
Spring came once more and the wonderlust in Donal began to grow. I saw it and knew what the outcome would be. I could see it in his eyes the day he came to say good-bye. Once more I was speechless and knew that I would never find another man such as he. He promised to return with the winter and I could only hope he spoke truthfully to me. The days after he left was as empty as my heart. The warm and love filled home became just a house. The days I had spent with him became a blur – nothing much seemed to matter anymore. The Summer heat was oppressive but not nearly as much as the winter that had sprung to life within my soul.
And suddenly winter was upon us once more. The outside cold began to match that which had taken hold of my heart. One evening I cleared dishes from a meager meal and readied myself for bed. Not really caring if the fire in the hearth would make it through the night, I crawled into my lonely bed almost hoping to never awaken again. Dreams of my Donal plagued me that night more than the day he left. The tears flowed like wine and the ache within my soul was such a physical pain that I cried out until sleep and exhaustion overtook me. Daybreak came and slowly I awoke to the smell of hot tea and soft noises with my house. There was a familiarity I felt but could not explain as I struggled to open my eyes to see if this was yet another taunting cruel dream. I felt the brush a hand upon my face and knew it was my Donal come back to me. I opened my eyes and there he was. He had returned just as he had promised, returned with the winter!
That was well over 25 years ago. We have never married and most likely never will. We have loved and laughed and shared so many years together and I still get lost in his eyes. But this I know for certain, when the snows begin to fall and winter wraps it’s icy hand round the earth, my Donal will return to me just as he did that first winter.
by Lady Milicent Shiveley
Great story!
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