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“I want to be like you, Willow.”
“Nay, you don’t.” Willow put her hand atop the girl’s hand.
“Yes, I do. I want to be able to talk to the men easily, the way you do.”
“It comes naturally for me, but I assure you it won’t come to you as easily. You see, it’s a talent that cannot be learned.” Willow wasn’t sure that was true, but she didn’t want to teach this girl things that would only make Conrad angry with her. Nay, she would have to teach Hazel things like sewing and needlework or helping prepare herbs in the kitchen instead. The domestic skills that ladies were supposed to know. The only problem was, Willow was not good at any of those things. She had spent years avoiding the proper things expected of her that didn’t make her happy. But Hazel was different. She was gentle, frail and weak. What was she going to do with her? And why did she have to be put in this position?
“Surely, there is some way you can help me.”
“Well, mayhap there is,” said Willow, deciding to do what she did best. “The first thing you need to do is let down your hair. Men don’t like hair that is wound so tight that it makes your eyes look like slits. They also don’t like when it’s hidden beneath a wimple. That is for widows and old women.”
“Show me,” said Hazel, wiping away a tear from her cheek.
“All right.” Willow reached out and unpinned Hazel’s braid. “Let’s brush out your hair and see how you look. I’m sure someone will notice the difference.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Sure, why not? I wear my hair loose and long most of the time.” She ran the brush through Hazel’s hair.
“My brother says loose hair means the woman is loose as well.”
She stopped brushing. “He does, does he? Well, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“He also says that girls shouldn’t approach a man and start talking to them, but rather wait to be approached by them first. It’s not ladylike.”
“Your brother has been teaching you falsities. None of that is true.”
“He also says –”
“How about we go for a ride?” Willow didn’t want to hear another word about whatever Conrad the Cur thought. She got up and took Hazel’s hand, dragging the young innocent along with her.
“Where are we going?” asked Hazel as they headed for the door.
“We are going for a ride with the wind blowing through our hair and no one is going to stop us.”
* * *
“Bid the devil,Squire, why did you let me sleep so late?” Conrad hurried down the corridor, fastening his weapon belt around his waist as he walked.
“My lord, I tried to wake you, but you know as well as I that you sleep so soundly that the castle walls could come crumbling down around you and you wouldn’t even know it.”
“Stop exaggerating.” Conrad headed toward Lady Willow’s chamber.
“Your father used to say all the time that you’d probably sleep through your own wedding . . . as well as the consummation.” Toby chuckled.
“That’s not funny, Squire. Now, I’ll hear no more. I might have times when I’m in a deep sleep, but I assure you I am still aware of everything that goes on around me.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Now, there will be no word of this in front of Ladies Willow and Hazel.”
“I understand.”
“Willow. Hazel.” Conrad rapped his knuckles against the door. “Open up. We’re going to be late for the meal to break the fast.”
“My lord, you’ve already missed that,” Toby informed him. “The earl had the best quail eggs cooked in a buttery sauce and spicy herbs that were served over a thick slice of soft white bread.” Toby smacked his lips. “I had two servings as well as some of the cook’s special bilberry tarts.”
“Bilberry tarts?” Conrad’s head snapped up. He loved bilberry tarts. He used to take his mother berry picking. They’d eat half the berries before they returned to the castle. This made him miss his mother dearly.
