“I thought you were leaving.”
“I am.”
“It doesn’t appear so.”
“In good time, my lady.”
She smiled coyly. “Then perhaps we should sit again until you are completely ready,” she turned back to her chair. “I would not want you to think me rude by hastening you out of my chamber, although propriety demands that I must. Still, it has been a….”
As she sat down, she looked up to see that Garren was gone. Startled, not to mention disappointed, she bolted up and ran to the lancet window. Hoisting herself up on the sill, she looked down but saw nothing. All was quiet and dark in the ward below. Glancing up, she caught a glimpse of boots disappearing over the top of the battlement directly above her head. A small rope dangled down the side of the keep, which was quickly retracted as she watched. All evidence was removed, and Sir Garren was gone as if he had never come at all.
Derica lowered herself from the window and pulled the oilcloth back over the window, keeping out the cool night air. She stood there a moment, thinking on Sir Garren and grinning like a fool. It had been a most eventful evening.
She wasn’t sorry that she missed sup in the least.
*
“Hewhat?”
“He came to my chamber last night. We had a wonderful conversation.”
Aglette was beside herself. Derica put her hand on the woman’s elbow and forced her to continue walking. It was a sunny morning and the bailey was alive with activity. Villains were bringing in wagons of food and goods for the castle and soldiers milled about as the women strolled through the compound.
“I… I simply cannot believe…,” Aglette stammered. “How scandalous!”
“He was afraid that he had offended me and came to apologize,” Derica said evenly. “We talked at length.”
“But how did he get in?”
“Through the window.”
“The window?” Aglette gasped. “Good Lord, how did he manage that?”
Derica smiled at the thought of his boots disappearing high over her head. “With a rope. He lowered himself down from the top of the keep. Quite clever, actually.”
“And all of this does not distress you?”
“Why should it?”
Aglette looked at her mistress with her mouth agape. Derica wasn’t the least bit concerned with the behavior of a man she barely knew. She suddenly knew why.
“You’re smitten with him,” she accused.
Derica’s smile vanished. “I am not.”
“You are! I can see it in your face.”
Derica looked away from her so the woman could not read her expression. “You see nothing. He came, he apologized, and we spoke. It was pleasant. The man is to be my husband, after all. Should I not know something about him?” She glanced up, seeing her brother Donat on the battlements. He glared down at her, his usual expression. “Do you think it would be a simple thing to talk to the man with the alligators hanging about, waiting to devour him?”
“Alligators?”
“A story for another time. Suffice it to say that if I am to be married to the man, I would come to know him at least somewhat. I know that is a ridiculous notion in this day and age, but I would like to establish some manner of rapport with him.”
“Why?”
“Because we are going to spend the rest of our lives living together. Is it wrong to want to know the person I will be living with, the father of my children?”
Aglette looked uncertain about the whole thing. “I suppose not, but… if your father hears that he has visited you in your chamber, and you without an escort, he’ll….”
