“Now, milady,” Nell said awkwardly. “There, now. It’s not so bad as all that.”
Dori dropped her hands and looked up at the woman.
“Well, it may be,” Nell allowed with a grim set to her mouth. “But sitting here in the mud shan’t improve anything.” She held out her hand again with the same circling motion. “Come along now. We’ve much to do before this eventide.”
Dori placed her hand in Nell’s and let the woman pull her out of the mud for the second time since their meeting only an hour before.
“What do you mean?” Dori asked.
“It’s a wonder you didn’t run yourself through with this horrid thing,” Nell muttered as she reached out and pulled Constantine’s blade from the tie at Dori’s waist and then bent to the ground. Lifting the hem of Dori’s overskirt, she cut the sagging, threadbare material beneath away and then wadded it into a ball as Dori stepped out of it. She handed the rags and Constantine’s knife back to her.
“Lord Gerard is coming to the village. I suppose he means the same for you, if only to keep an eye on you.”
Dori’s eyes narrowed at the woman.
“Any matter,” Nell continued, “I’ll not be waiting on the likes of you as if I were a lady’s maid, so you’d best be prepared to lend your hands to the task.”
Dori looked her up and down. “I doubt anyone with knowledge of such matters would mistake you for a lady’s maid.”
“Not if you were the lady, I reckon,” Nell retorted and then started back through the wood.
Dori watched the woman’s wide back retreating for a moment, feeling an odd twitch at the corner of her mouth. She realized Erasmus stood pressed against her leg and looked down into the dog’s mournful gaze.
“Good boy,” she whispered.
Chapter 17
Glayer openly watched the young woman getting dressed at the side of his bed as he reclined on the luxurious bolsters. The girl was pale and wide-eyed in the bright candle glow of the guest apartment, her hands visibly trembling over their own shadows as she struggled with her fine, heavy kirtle. When the hem at last dropped to the floor, she looked to him.
“You’ll speak with my father soon,” she pressed, her fingers twisting around themselves. “And then you’ll come for me.”
“Straightaway,” Glayer promised, although he couldn’t quite keep the smirk from his mouth. He didn’t even know who the girl’s father was. Actually, he couldn’t bother recalling her name now either, after finding out she was birthed of such a small estate. “Right to Glenmar-rick.”
She frowned, and Glayer saw her throat work as she swallowed. “Glencovent.”
He always seemed to forget that virgins—while physically delightful—were much too exacting for his tastes.
“Of course. Glencovent,” he corrected himself, giving his smile free rein now. A rap sounded on the chamber door and he gestured toward it before stretching to the side to retrieve his cup. “Admit my caller on your way out.” He lay back once more but paused in bringing the chalice to his lips as he saw that the girl stood staring at him as if rooted to the spot.
“You’re not going to speak to my father at all, are you?” she demanded in a shocked voice, her expression the epitome of innocence destroyed.
It put a warm, happy feeling in Glayer’s stomach.
He cocked his head. “Do you really wish me to? It might put a quick end to any potential pimply-faced suitors awaiting you in the wilds of Glencarmack. If I keep my silence, you’ll have all the way until your wedding night to think of an explanation for your scandalous indiscretion.”
“It’s Glencovent,” she insisted through her teeth. “And I doubt there’s need for any explanation.”
Glayer rolled his eyes and waved his cup at her. “Be gone, child.” He drank.
Her complexion, previously a beguiling shade of porcelain, took on a ruddy hue. “You’ll pay for this. You . . . you monster.”
Glayer nearly choked on his wine, he was so amused by the threat. He held his wrist to his mouth while he snorted and swallowed. “Lofty aspirations, I assure you, poppet—men far bigger and braver than you have sought retaliation against me and fallen dismally short of their marks.”
The rapping came at his door again, this time more insistently.
He smacked his lips together and then sighed. The novelty of her was wearing off. “Shoo, shoo! I’m an important man with important business to attend to.”
The girl whirled on her heel, tears already coursing down her face as she wrenched the door open and stormed past Eseld and little Glander, jostling them most rudely.
