“I must get dressed,” she began rushing around the room. “I must wash. Where is my soap?”
Aglette kept a cooler head, helping Derica wash quickly with a cake of rose-scented soap. The blue dress, a form-hugging garment without a hem, was Derica’s choice simply because it was there. As she pulled up the sleeves, Aglette fastened the stays with trembling hands.
“’Tis too long!” Derica exclaimed as she shoved her feet into doeskin slippers.
She was already heading for the door, tripping on the garment. Aglette struggled after her with a comb. “I told you that I needed to hem it, my lady,” Aglette said with irritation.
“I shall trip on this and fall to my death before I can hear Garren’s message.”
“Then pull it up. Higher.”
Derica had the front of her skirt bundled in a wad in front of her as she took the narrow stairs. Aglette ran the comb through her tangled locks. By the time they entered the ward ofFramlingham, Derica let the skirt down just enough to be decent and struggled to calm herself.
“I will do this myself from here,” she said. “Return to my chamber and keep watch for my family. I do not want them trying to follow me.”
“How shall I keep them from looking for you should they come?”
“Think of something. Anything. I shan’t be long.”
Aglette watched her mistress scurry towards the stables. She was shaking with fear, and hope, and didn’t think it appropriate for her lady to go alone. But she respected her wishes. Dutifully, she turned back for the tower, hoping the annoying de Rosa men would not want to console Derica yet again. She doubted she could hold them off long and for that, her fear mounted.
Derica tried to keep from running to the stables. She was so excited that she could scarcely breathe. The stable block was a long, low series of buildings attached to the outer wall. The wall walk was twenty feet above, soaring into the sky. She entered the first building and, seeing only horses and a few servants, went into the second and third. The fourth block was dim due to the shadows cast from the wall above. Derica passed through it, not seeing a living soul. She was about to exit when she heard someone clear their throat behind her, softly yet firmly.
Startled, she swung about. A man in a dirty brown cloak was in the shadows, hidden behind a large pile of hay. He pushed the hood from his face slightly, revealing bright blue eyes and a handsome face.
“Lady Derica, I presume?”
Derica nodded, hesitantly “Are you….?”
“I am.”
“I was told that you have a message for me.”
He nodded. “I am Sir Fergus de Edwin. Sir Garren has sent me. He told me to tell you that the ibis has returned to the alligators.”
She smiled at the words from their private world. “Is he well, then?”
“He is.”
She sighed, visibly relieved. “I am so glad,” she murmured. “He went through so much here… I have prayed for him.”
“He is well enough that he has done nothing but speak your name,” Fergus said. “Garren and I go back many, many years, my lady. When he asked me to help him in a matter involving a woman, I did not take it lightly. Garren is not the sort to be infatuated with a female.”
Derica was pleased to hear him say that. “Nor I a man. What message did he give you for me?”
“He has sent me to bring you to him.”
“Bring me to him?” Derica repeated. “For what purpose?”
“To marry you.”
“Marry?” she sounded stunned. “After all that happened… after everything my family did to him, he still speaks of marrying me?”
“It is his heart’s desire.” Fergus regarded her carefully; she was a strikingly beautiful woman. He didn’t blame Garren in the least. “But is it yours?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You seem hesitant.”
