Ophelia was eating as fast as she could without it coming back up again. Greenie went back over to the chamber door and threw the bolt so there would be no unexpected visitors.
“You have my undying gratitude,” Ophelia said, mouth full. “I will not forget this, I swear it.”
Greenie found a comb in Ophelia’s smaller satchel and began to comb through her hair. It was long and soft, with a slight wave to it, drying quickly in the warmth of the chamber.
“Not to worry, m’lady,” Greenie said. “I cannot believe yer grandfather would starve ye simply for presentation. He expects ye to look like death on your wedding day?”
Ophelia gulped down the small cup of wine. “He thinks women should be fragile creatures, seen and not heard,” she said, which was sort of the truth. He didn’t like a woman with an opinion, but the part about fragility wasn’t exactly true. Her grandfather simply didn’t want her to gain weight and look as if she were pregnant. “He is a man of strong views when it comes to women. He makes it difficult sometimes.”
She plowed back into the stew as Greenie continued to brush her hair, fluffing it, drying it. The servant couldn’t help but think that in spite of the young woman’s wealth—and it was clear, from the fine slippers she wore to the milled soap used for her bath, that she came from money—she seemed to lead a rather unpleasant existence. Greenie couldn’t even fathom a man starving a woman simply so she’d look thin and frail.
She knew for a fact that Creston de Royans wasn’t going to like that.
She knew Creston better than she let on. He frequented The Black Cock with his close friend, Cruz, probably more than the other trainers did. For Creston, it seemed to be a release of sorts—he would drink and play card games with Cruz or the owner of The Black Cock, Hobbes, and sometimes he even played with Hobbes’ wife, Margit. They were an older couple who had taken ownership of the tavern from Hobbes’ father long ago, and they were childless, so the Blackchurch trainers filled a void for them. They treated the men like family, fed them at no cost, mostly let them drink at no cost—though the trainers insisted on paying—and, in turn for the kindness, the trainers were the security for the tavern. In the wilds of Devon, a place like The Black Cock could attract all kinds of dangerous men, and the Blackchurch trainers were always there to ensure the tavern was a safe place for all. Creston always seemed to be at the forefront of any action in defense of the tavern.
That was how Greenie knew he wasn’t going to like someone trying to starve a lady.
He was a chivalrous man.
However, Greenie had never seen Creston with a single, special woman, and there had been plenty of opportunity for it. Serving wenches passing in and out of the tavern, as well as travelers and villagers who haunted the place. Greenie had seen Creston and the other trainers sup with women and even dance with them on occasion, if there happened to be music, but none of the trainers were the predatory type. They seemed quite focused on their duties for Blackchurch and distractions like women weren’t really needed or wanted. Of course, a few of the trainers had married, and Greenie knew their wives, kind and upstanding women, but whoring for the trainers was nonexistent. They were married to their duties.
But now, one more would be taking a wife.
Greenie had to admit that she felt rather sorry for the young woman.
“Where did ye come from, lass?” she asked quietly. “Has yer journey been long?”
Ophelia had finished the stew and was now starting on the fruit. “Not really,” she said. “I am from South Devon. Along the sea.”
“What village?”
“Sidmouth,” Ophelia said, mouth full of apples. “That is where my grandfather lives. He is the Earl of Sidbury, which is the area around Sidmouth. Sometimes people call the town Sidbury, too. In any case, my mother and I live elsewhere, but we have been staying with Grandfather recently.”
“Do ye like it along the sea?”
Ophelia nodded. “I do,” she said. “I like the fresh air, the sand. I grew up in a village that was not near the sea. We would visit my grandfather on occasion and I always loved being near the ocean. There is peace in something that has been here since the beginning of the world and will be here until the end of it. The sea has seen much.”
Greenie was fluffing the back of her hair to encourage it to dry faster. “Ye sound as if ye miss it.”
“I do,” Ophelia said, finishing with the fruit. She set the bowl down and wiped her mouth with the cloth that covered the food. “But here we are, in the wilds of Devon’s north coast. I hear there are beasts in these woods.”
Greenie continued to fuss with her hair. “No more than usual,” she said. “I’ve lived here all my life and I will admit that sometimes, ye hear sounds from the trees that don’t sound like a man or an animal, but I’ve never seen anything unusual.”
“What do you think it is, then?”
“Only God knows, lass,” Greenie said, deciding the hair was dry enough as she started to heavily comb through it. “Do ye plan to live here with Sir Creston?”
“I do not know,” Ophelia admitted. “I will live wherever he wishes me to live. He may not even want me here. I do not blamehim, though. He was forced into this marriage and I am certain he is unhappy about it.”
“Forced?”
“Aye,” Ophelia said. “My grandfather forced us both.”
Greenie didn’t reply to that. The young woman seemed uncertain enough, even depressed, so there was no eagerness on her part for this marriage. If Greenie hadn’t known better, she would have sworn that the lass was behaving as if she were going to her own funeral.
The uncertainty in the air was palpable.
“I’m going to say something to ye, m’lady,” she said as she stopped combing and came around front so she could look the young woman in the eye. “If ye’ve never met Creston, let me tell you what I know about him. He’s a kind and moral man. We’ve never had any trouble from him here. He’s very loyal to his friends and, I’d be willing to wager, he’ll be very loyal to his wife. He’s a good man, m’lady. He deserves to have someone who recognizes that and treats him with kindness, too. Can ye do that?”
