A SURPRISE MEETING
My lady?” Glenna called. Her back ached as the horse moved, but she bit her bottom lip and carried on ahead. Her heart was lifted by her sweet memories and that made the pain of riding easier. They were trotting along the field, heading back home. In the distance, she could just see the castle where it sat on the hillside over Edinburgh, a block-shaped, brooding edifice under the pale sky.
“What, Glenna?” Amabel called back. She turned, black hair ruffled by the breeze, and waited for Glenna to ride up beside her.
“I wanted to ask when you think the men will return to the castle?” she said as the two of them slowed their horses to walk beside each other.
“Well,” Amabel frowned, looking up at the sky to judge the time. “It's an hour before midday now, and they started moving when we did. The carts with the wounded will slow them. Expect them back at nightfall.”
“Yes, milady,” Glenna murmured. She felt sad, riding away from Conn. She had to stop herself from turning in the saddle, looking back to see if there were traces of the men who rode behind.
“You saw to your man's wounds?” Amabel asked.
Glenna stared at her. “I did, yes, milady,” she said shyly.
“Good.” Amabel's voice was warm. “So did I.”
“Milady...” Glenna coughed, not sure what to say. How could she ask Amabel what she planned to do about her situation? She was in as much of a predicament herself. Only in her case, a knight would lower himself to wed the daughter of a miller. In Amabel's case, she lowered herself to consider a knight.
“Yes?” Amabel asked. She raised a brow over one blue eye, expression inquiring.
“I was wondering if...” She looked at her hands. “If there was any way...any precedent for...what we want to do?”
Amabel frowned. “You mean, marry across such differences in status?”
Glenna felt her eyebrows lift. Trust Amabel not to edge around the truth with flowery sentiments. “Yes,” she said. “I meant that.”
Amabel sighed. Her lovely face looked worried, a line wrinkling her smooth brow. “Well, I don't know, Glenna. We're in a sticky situation, aren't we?”
Glenna nodded miserably. “We are,” she agreed.
“What we could do,” Amabel said, eyes sparkling, “is run away together.”
“What?” Glenna stared at her. “My lady! That's dangerous!”
She laughed. “Yes, it is. Very. But think of it. A knight is not without means. If we ran away, we could set up house together in the countryside somewhere. Make a farm, settle down. Live the simple life.”
Glenna stared at her mistress. “You wouldn't.”
Amabel chuckled. “I don't know, Glenna,” she added with a sigh. “I've no idea what I would do. There's a part of me that wishes it was that simple. But what can we do, eh?”
She shook her head sadly and Glenna nodded.
“There must be a way, mistress.”
“I hope there is, yes.”
It was noon when they reached the castle.
Glenna slid down from the saddle, gasping in pain as her feet touched the ground.
Amabel chuckled. “Saddle sore, eh?”
Glenna nodded vigorously. “I feel as if I'll never walk again.”
Amabel nodded. “I know the feeling. Let's change for luncheon. I'm famished.”
In the hall, they sat down together.
“No one's here,” Amabel commented, directing Glenna to the seat across from her. “We've the whole place to ourselves.”
As they ate, Glenna's mind wandered again to thoughts of Conn. “Milady?”
“Mm?” Amabel swallowed, reaching for a glass of claret. “What is it, dear?”
“How would I...” Glenna swallowed hard. “How would I know if a fellow was, well, of good intent?”
Amabel's eyes went round. “You mean, whether he wishes to wed.”
“Yes,” Glenna said. “How would I know if someone had, well...such ideas? Toward me?”
To her surprise, Lady Amabel giggled. “Well, I've no idea,” she said. “But what I can say is, you would know. Is he quiet when around you? And, well...different with you than with others?”
“Yes,” Glenna nodded. “Very different.”
“Well, then,” Amabel said, popping a grape between her lips and grinning as she swallowed. “You've got an answer.”
Glenna frowned.
“He's interested in you.”
Glenna laughed. “You think so?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, my lady.” Glenna shook her head wearily. “I'm sorry to ask you such things, truly I am.”
“Well, don't be,” Amabel said with mock severity.
“You are younger than me, and...” She fidgeted uncomfortably, reaching for a piece of bannock.
“And I'm forthright and honest and I say what I see. And I see that whoever this fellow is loves you. Truly and sincerely. I mean it.”
Glenna felt her heart sing. “You do? Oh, my lady. On my word...” She sighed, feeling her cheeks lift in happy smile. “That does reassure me.”
“It's true, too,” Amabel countered and took a sip of the drink. “Now. I think we have about three hours before the men start getting here. At least. So I shall go, dress, and perhaps practice on the lute, if I can borrow one from someone. No harm in keeping it with me.”
Glenna smiled, shaking her head. “You're remarkable, milady.”
“You too. You just rode ten miles and worked in an infirmary all night. You ever thought you'd spend a day like that?”
“No,” Glenna admitted.
“Well, exactly,” Amabel said. She stood and pushed in her chair. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some music to play.”
Glenna chuckled and stood, watching her mistress leave. When she had gone, she walked slowly down the row between the tables, lost in thought.
Would she really consider running away, as her lady proffered? On the other hand, would she not take such a crazy risk? How did she really feel about Conn? She had only just met him, after all.
And in that time I have come to feel for him as for no other.
She sighed. Crossing the hall and heading into the warren of hallways beyond, thinking as she walked, she knew she was in love with Conn. What he felt for her, she had no idea. She felt so happy believing Amabel about that.
She spent the afternoon mending clothes. Both she and Amabel had damaged their cloaks and dresses more than she had noticed. The hours slipped by unnoticed as she plied her needle, fixing rents, or dabbed stains from the linen or the velvet cloth.
“It's dark,” she murmured. The light in the bedroom had faded to the ruddy glow of the fire in the grate. She sat up quickly. That meant that Conn would be here. And the other men. She put her sewing aside and, smoothing her gown, stared at the reflection in the mirror.
In the wan light, all she could see was a pale face, big gray eyes with wide lids and full lips pursed in an expression of concern. She ran a hand down her long, straight, dark hair, checking that it was in place. Then she hurried from the room.
Keep calm, she told herself. He might not be back yet. You might not see him this evening.
In the hallway, she could hear the shouts and the rumble of carts as the men occupied the courtyard. She headed down the stairs and into the space beyond.
Men. A sea of people, walking about across the smooth flagstones. She tried to avoid bumping into anyone as she negotiated her way through the press of men-at-arms, servants and squires, heading to the wounded carts.
As she reached them, she felt a pair of eyes on her. She tensed. When she looked up, she found she was staring into the blunt, gray-eyed face of Sir Alexander. She recognized the long hair, the broad, muscled shoulders, instantly.
“Hah,” he said, grinning lasciviously. “You're here again, eh?”
Glenna didn't say anything. She turned away, bending over a cart where a man lay, seemingly unconscious, his body covered with a red wool blanket.
“What?” Alexander said. He sauntered over and put out a hand, touching her shoulder. “You don't talk much, eh?” He chuckled. Jerked his hand so that she was forced to look up into his face. “What's wrong with you? Too proud to chat with a man-at-arms, eh?”
Glenna stared at him. Her heart was thudding in her chest. This close, she could smell the brandy that steeped the bandaged wound on his forearm, and see his crooked teeth.
“I...” she murmured.
“Take your hand from her.”
Glenna tensed. Conn was standing behind her. She felt her heart soften with relief as she saw him there. “Conn!” she whispered.
He ignored her. He was looking directly at Alexander. “Step back,” he said, very quietly. “And if you touch her again, I swear I'll...”
He trailed off as Alexander laughed. “You're lost for her, aren't you?” he said. “Completely, stupidly lost. Hah,” he muttered, still grinning. However, he limped away into the dark, shouting for a squire to lift the sacks of mail. “You're daft, boy.”
Glenna turned to Conn where he stood beside her. His face was white, eyes huge. His mouth quivered with unspoken emotions.
“I...” she started speaking, but he cut her off abruptly.
“How could you do something so foolish?” he hissed.
She stared at him. “Conn, I...”
“No,” he said firmly. “How could you come down here, mingling with the men? It's wildly dangerous. You know that.”
Glenna swallowed, feeling her eyes full of tears. “I was in the healer's tent...they know me. I...”
“You were in the healer's tent, yes. With Father Matthias and Lady Amabel there, both ready to defend you if something happened. It's foolish to wonder about unprotected. I had thought better of you.”
Glenna cleared her throat. She was tired. She was worried. She was drained. Now, suddenly, here was the one source of comfort in her world, and he was turning on her.
“Glenna?” he called, but she was pulling from his grasp and running away across the courtyard.
She heard his footsteps on the stone behind her, but she would not turn back.
She stormed inside and headed up the stairs, walking quickly and quietly to her chamber. There, she opened the door and walked quickly to the screen, ducking behind it.
Then she lay down in a small huddle on her bed. And wept. Now she had no chance with him, did she? Perhaps before he might have thought more seriously about her. Now, she wasn't simply a maid. She was a foolish, unreliable one.
How could she believe he loved her, would flout all their world's rules for her, after that?
She sobbed and curled up tighter and then slept.