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He stared at her, wondering if he should ask but in the end, the curiosity was too much. “Tell me, if you can, how did you come to this pass?”
She looked at him in amusement. “What pass? You mean captured by the English and confined to a Duke’s manor, baking for his son?”
He smiled briefly but then became serious. “I mean a spy. You are unbelievably lovely, witty, delightful, really. I do not believe that finding a husband would have been too difficult.”
She burst into loud laughter. “Is that what you think? That a woman only ever does something else if she has no prospects for marriage?”
The color filled Bertram’s cheeks. “No, of course not. But this is very dangerous work. Why would you choose it?”
That seemed to sober her. “I didn’t.”
He frowned in puzzlement. “Youdidn’tchoose it?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve been following the drum my entire life. It’s all I have ever known.”
“Even so, I’m sure you could have found some soldier interested enough to make you his bride.”
“Oh there were many.” She grinned at him mischievously. He found that he did not like the thought of her being wooed by a myriad of men.
“And? None of them met your exacting standards?”
She turned to him, considering him seriously, her gray eyes catching the morning sun and shining like silver coins. “Do you really want to know?”
“Of course I do, otherwise I would not have asked.”
“All right then, I’ll tell you.”
Bertram smiled, looking ahead towards the downs. “We could stop for a meal and you can regale me with your adventures in comfort.”
“Are you not in a hurry?”
“No. Are you?”
She shook her head.
“Good. Let us picnic and converse.” He led his horse to the side of the road, alighted and hobbled it. Then he extracted from his saddlebags a loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese, stone bottles of cider and soup.
He smiled, “It’s not as delicious as your bread is,” he held up the loaf, “but I hope it’ll do.”
She laughed. “I shall try to endure it as best I can.”
“Thank you.” He took the blanket that lay over his saddle and laid it on the ground before arranging the food in two bowls. He gestured for her to sit. “Please.”
She dropped gracefully onto the blanket with a smile. “Well, serve up the food and I’ll tell you my story.”
He reached for her bowl and passed it on to her, “I cannot wait.”
* * *
Letty got lost in the sounds and smells of her childhood as she described them to the Duke. The squalor and dirt that they lived in when her mother left, the constant gnawing hunger when rations were scarce.
“We followed the drum wherever it led and sometimes, the places we ended up were less than perfect.”
“Why didn’t you leave with your mother?”
“My father wouldn’t let us.”
His eyebrows quirked. “Us?”
