“Thank you for my doll, Claude.” Charlotte reached up and kissed her brother, holding tightly to the rag doll he had given her for her birthday. It was dressed in a velvet gown that looked like a lady’s. It even had a golden cloth crown sewn to its yarn-covered head.

“Please, everyone be seated as the meal is about to begin,” announced Conlin, lord of the castle. Claude looked up to the very crowded dais table. There was an empty seat next to Rose, and she was waving him over. Toft sat at her other side.

“You’d better hurry, my lord. They want to start the meal,” Felix told him.

Claude groaned inwardly. He didn’t want to sit next to Rose because it was too much to bear.

“I would rather sit below the salt right now,” mumbled Claude.

“Ah, I see,” said Felix. “Too hard sitting on one side of Lady Rose while her husband is on the other?”

“Something like that.” Claude dragged a hand through his hair wondering why he had ever come back to England after all. How was he going to endure the fact that Rose wanted him at her side every minute of the day?

“You can always sit down here with me,” offered Felix. “I’ll be eating with the nursemaid, Evelina.” He nodded toward the table.

Evelina sat on the bench, not talking to anyone. The children of the nobles were all up at the dais with their families and she had nothing to do. She didn’t seem to have any friends, either.

“What did you say to her earlier?” he asked.

“To Evelina?” asked Felix.

“Yes, Evelina. Tell me what you said that made her laugh.”

“I was just rambling on, my lord. Sometimes it’s hard to remember what I said.”

“She commented on me changing my mind.” His eyes drilled into her although she didn’t know he was watching. She daintily broke off a small piece of bread, dipped it in her soup and brought it to her mouth. Then she proceeded to take a little square of cloth from her pocket and dab at the corners of her mouth. Odd, that a commoner acted so refined.

“Really? What did she say?” asked Felix.

“She compared my indecision to . . . to that of a . . . girl.”

“Oh,” said his squire, swallowing hard. “Perhaps I rambled on too much about your earlier years. I’m sorry, my lord.”

“God’s eyes, please don’t tell me you told her that everyone used to think I was a girl?”

“Well, not exactly everyone. But I might have mentioned that your father thought so.”

“What is the matter with you, Squire? I told you that in confidence. If I wanted the world to know, I would have had the herald shout it from the battlements. When I went back to France, I thought I left those and other memories behind.”

“She looked lonely and I wanted to make conversation.”

“Well, couldn’t you have talked about the weather instead?”

Felix made a face and shrugged his shoulders. “She asked about you, my lord. I only thought it polite to answer.”

“She asked about me?” Claude tore his eyes away from the girl and stared down at his squire. “What did she want to know?”

“It’s hard to remember.” The squire’s eyes roamed over to Evelina. When Claude glanced back to her, she was smiling at Felix and waggling her fingers in the air. Felix smiled and waved back to her.

“Then think harder,” Claude growled. “I want to know what she said about me.”

“I believe she mentioned you looked uncomfortable. I told her that was only because you were around Lady Rose and used to be in love with her.”

“You didn’t.” Claude squeezed his eyes closed, feeling things going from bad to worse.

“It’s not as if everyone doesn’t already know you are still in love with Lady Rose.”

Claude’s eyes popped open. “What do you mean? I’m not still in love with her. That is in the past.”

“Evelina didn’t seem to think so. Girls can tell those things, I guess. She was surprised that Lady Rose could have ever been in love with you in the first place.”

“Rose wasn’t in love with me,” he grunted. “And what do you mean Evelina was surprised by that? Is it that unbelievable that it could have ever happened?”

“Nay. Of course, I don’t think so. But Evelina said even though you were handsome, she couldn’t believe anyone could ever be in love with you because she said you were not likable at all.”

“Not likable?” His eyes flashed over to Evelina. She was watching him, but when he caught her eye, she looked the other way. “How can she say that? That is preposterous. I’m likable. Everyone likes me. How can anyone think I am not likable?”

“Excuse me, my lord,” interrupted a young page.

“What do you want?” snapped Claude. The young boy jumped.

“My name is Nicholas Vaughn. My father said he knows you. He sent me over to get you. He said the meal is starting and you need to join the nobles at the dais.”

“I’ll go when I’m ready to go.”

Felix cleared his throat. “Likable, my lord. Likable,” he mumbled.

“Oh.” Claude realized he snapped at the boy and now felt horrible about it. He had been so upset at hearing that the nursemaid thought he was unlikable and that she knew he used to look like a girl, that he couldn’t think straight. “Tell your father I will be there presently.” Claude looked up and nodded to Lord Nicholas who raised a tankard of ale in the air and nodded back to him.

“Yes, my lord.” The boy ran off.

“So, you won’t be sitting below the salt with us, then?” asked Felix.

Claude studied Evelina. She was using the side of her spoon to cut a piece of chicken into smaller portions. Most of the servants he knew gobbled down their food quickly, using their hands and no spoon at all. They were just happy to have something to eat and eager to get back to work. She looked as if she were separating the food on her trencher into neat little piles before she even took a bite. This girl was like no other servant he’d ever met.

“Nay, I’ll not be sitting down here with the servants. I am a noble and will sit at the dais, no matter how unlikable I am.”

“Aye, my lord. I understand.”

“Felix, keep an eye on that one,” he said nodding toward Evelina.

“What do you mean, my lord?”

“There is something odd about her.”

“I think she is delightful to be around.” Felix smiled at Evelina. “She is stunning, too.”

“And she smells like rosewater instead of sweat and tallow.”

“Pardon me?” asked Felix.

“When she crashed into me in the courtyard, she was close enough that I smelled rosewater on her. I also noticed her hair was clean and not tangled at all. It smelled like fresh air. I think she is not who she pretends to be.”

“Who do you think she is?”

“I’m not sure. I need to think about it. She seems familiar, but I don’t remember anyone named Du Bisset in France at all. I don’t think that is her real name.”

“So, she is hiding something?”

“I would bet on it. I wouldn’t trust her at all. Keep your ears and eyes open and report back to me if she says or does anything suspicious at all.”

“Aye, my lord. I will stay close to her at all times. It would be my pleasure.”

“Not too close,” Claude mumbled, walking away. “And stop telling her anything about me. If she wants to know something, tell her she can ask me herself.”

Evelina tried to listen to Claude and Felix’s conversation, but there was way too much noise in the great hall to make out what they were saying. She had seen them looking at her several times and got the feeling they were talking about her.

“Hello, Evelina,” said Felix happily, squeezing into the empty spot on the bench next to her. “How is the food today?”

“We are sharing a trencher,” she said pushing the old, stale piece of bread being used as a plate closer to him. “I found it a little challenging to cut the meat without cutting into the trencher, so I apologize for the mangled look of the bread.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said, digging into the food.

“I separated the food because I wasn’t sure if you cared for steamed cabbage. I am not fond of it, myself. However, the root vegetables are delicious today. The meat is a little tough and needs more sauce, but that was all I could manage to get. Some of the men at the table are very greedy.”

“Aye, it is always that way below the salt. If you were up at the dais where Sir Claude is sitting, you would have more than enough food to eat and have the first choice of the best cut of meat.”

“Sir Claude,” Evelina repeated, taking the wooden cup into her hands, looking over the rim as she took a sip of honeyed mead. Lady Rose smiled from ear to ear, holding up a piece of cheese to Claude’s mouth. He shook his head and flashed a smile, then buried his nose in a tankard of ale. “He is an odd one, isn’t he?”

“That’s funny,” said Felix, using his fingers to shove more food into his mouth. “He said the same thing about you.”

She jerked in surprise. “He did? He thinks I’m odd? How so?”

“He said you don’t act like any servant he’s ever known.”

She put down the cup, almost spilling the mead in the process. She needed to be more careful with her disguise. “What else did he say about me?”

“He said if you want to know anything about him that you should ask him instead of asking me.”

“He did, did he?” She used the spoon and scooped up a cooked piece of carrot, gently placing it into her mouth and then using the scrap of cloth to wipe her lips afterward.

“Just like that,” said Felix, nodding to the cloth.

“Like what?” she asked, neatly folding the cloth into a square and slipping it back into her pocket.

“He has never seen a servant use a cloth to wipe her mouth. He also said you are too dainty to be of peasant stock. And you smell like rosewater, and your hair is clean and smells like fresh air.”

“I smell like rosewater?” Her heart skipped a beat. Sir Claude noticed that she’d used a small dab of Lady Rose’s rosewater. She liked that he was so observant, but it frightened her at the same time. He was going to figure out her secret. Being from France, he could send a missive back to her father. If so, before she knew it, she’d be marrying the awful Lord Onfroi. She needed to be more careful around this French knight.

When the meal ended, there were games for the children to help celebrate the birthdays of Harry and Charlotte. Evelina went to help the children, hoping someday she would have children of her own.

The children played several games, and the last one had to do with balancing eggs on spoons as they hurried across the great hall, walking around a few obstacles and then back again. The minstrels in the gallery overhead played music. When the music stopped, they had to run back to the start with their egg, hoping not to drop and break it.

“It’s your turn, Harry,” said Evelina, helping the little boy balance his egg on a spoon. “You need to beat Charlotte if you want to win the race.”

“Charlotte, let me help you with that,” said Claude, making his way down the dais to help his sister.

“I don’t need help, Claude,” Charlotte told him. “I’m eight now and old enough to play the game by myself.”

“Hello, Evelina,” said Claude, looking straight ahead instead of at her when he spoke.

“Hello,” she said, looking down at Harry.

“Did my squire give you the message?”

“What message?” she asked, pretending not to know. It would be better if he didn’t realize she had been talking about him.

“Didn’t he tell you? If you want to know anything about me you are to ask me directly, not go through him.”

“There is nothing about you I have the desire to know.”

The music started up, and Evelina urged Harry forward. “Go on, quickly,” she told him, clapping her hands together. “But not too quickly or you will drop the egg.”

“Hurry, Charlotte.” Claude put his hands to his mouth to call out to his sister. “You need to beat Harry. Show him that the de Bars are not losers.”

“De Bars?” Evelina stood up so quickly at hearing him say that name that she lost her balance and almost fell. He grabbed her by the elbow and steadied her.

“Careful,” he told her. “You might hurt yourself.”

She, along with everyone in France knew about the old man, Lord Pierpont de Bar who had watched his wife burn at the stake because she was accused of being a witch. Hadn’t the squire said something about Claude’s grandmother burning at the stake? It was also said that the de Bar family was cursed and some of the relatives were witches. Could he be part of this family? “Why did you say de Bar?”

“I said Montague,” he told her.

“Nay, you didn’t. I distinctly heard you say de Bar. Are you a de Bar or aren’t you?”

“I told you, I am Sir Claude Jean Montague, but thank you for asking.”

“That’s a lie,” she said under her breath.

“What was that?” asked Claude.

“I said that’s a tie. It looks like the race is going to be a tie.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“Of course, it is.” She looked directly at him and smiled.

The crowd cheered for the children as the music stopped. Charlotte and Harry both ran back to the start, somehow managing to keep the eggs balanced on the spoons. Harry crossed the line at the same time as Charlotte.

“You won, Charlotte! Congratulations, Sister.” Claude scooped her up, causing her egg to drop to the ground and break. “You should be proud to be a Montague.” He looked at Evelina as he said it.

“Harry crossed the line at the same time as Charlotte. Just like I told you, the race was a tie.” Evelina picked the boy up in her arms and held him to her chest.

“My brother said I won,” shouted Charlotte.

“Nay, I won.” Harry looked like he was about to cry.

“It’s all right, Harry. Better luck next time.” Claude reached out and ruffled the little boy’s hair. Harry opened his mouth and let out a wail.

“Harry doesn’t like anyone ruffling his hair,” Evelina told Claude.

“It’s just my way of showing affection,” said Claude. “There is no harm done.”

“Then, mayhap, you’d let Harry return the same affection by ruffling your hair as well. Unless that would bother you.”

“Why would it bother me?” asked Claude. “As I said, it is all done in fun. Go ahead, Harry. Ruffle my hair.” Claude leaned over. Evelina urged the little boy to do the same to Claude as he had done to Harry.

With tears in his eyes, Harry slapped his hand atop Claude’s head. However, the egg was in his hand and it broke on Claude’s head. Slimy egg white and yolk slid down Claude’s hair and face.

Evelina giggled while Claude clenched his jaw, not saying a word.

“Oh, Harry, what did you do?” Rose rushed over with Toft, eying up the antics of her little brother. Isobel hurried over with Claude’s mother as well.

“Claude, you have egg on your face,” said Celestine.

Suddenly, all the children were crowding around, and everyone, including Rose, laughed at Claude. Claude wiped the egg out of his eyes and licked his lips.

“I’ll have a tub of water sent up to your solar for you, Claude,” said Rose. “I’m sorry that Harry did that.”

“Harry was only ruffling Claude’s hair as Claude did to him,” stated Evelina. As everyone continued to laugh, Claude’s gaze met with Evelina’s. The anguish and despair in his eyes told her that this situation had hurt him deeply.

“Excuse me, my lady,” Claude said, bowing to Rose with egg still dripping down his face. “I think I will retire for the evening.”

Claude hurried through the great hall with his squire at his heels. No one but Evelina seemed to notice the turmoil on Claude’s face. Her heart went out to him. It was her fault since she’d told Harry to ruffle his hair. Now, she regretted her action. It wasn’t anger she viewed in Claude’s eyes as he hurried away. It was pain. A more profound pain than she’d ever seen in anyone’s eyes before. She wanted to run after him and tell him she was sorry, but couldn’t. She was only a servant, she reminded herself. She couldn’t step out of line again or her secret might be revealed.

Every part of her wanted to comfort Claude and make him smile. Why did she feel this way when everything the man had done so far had been nothing but belittling to her? Then again, his actions were typical for a nobleman and the way they treated servants. Her actions were not normal for a servant, just like Claude had told his squire. Pretending she was someone that she was not was becoming more difficult all the time.