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I almost laughed, because it was working. I’d made it happen. I could feel myself start to dissolve. And then—
CHAPTER 72
“It seems we’ll never be rid of you,” Agnes said, snapping a blanket into shape over the huge canopied bed. “Proves what they say, don’t it? A stray dog lingers where it last got scraps.”
Margery, passing by with a mug of wine, swatted Agnes on the shoulder. “Bite your tongue, sister.” To me, she said, “I’m glad to see you back, Hannah. It’s lonely here. There are never any visitors.”
“Only beggars and thieves,” Agnes muttered.
The ornate castle bedroom looked different than I remembered it. Brighter somehow, as if the stone walls had been scrubbed. Gone were the lacy cobwebs, the pale dust on the tapestries. The fire in the hearth was almost cheerful.
Had they been expecting me?
“That’s for you,” Margery said, nodding to a dress draped over the back of a chair. “I think it will fit, don’t you?”
I touched the deep purple velvet, the golden vines embroidered around the neckline. My rough fingertip snagged a gold thread, pulling it loose. Whoever this gown belonged to first had been tall and slender. I was tall but half to skin and bones. “Why do you give me this to wear?”
“As I’ve told you before, I do as I’m directed,” Margery said lightly. She gave the wine a sniff and seemed satisfied.
“By whom?”
“Oh, you’re a dumb one. I surely don’t know what he sees in you,” Agnes whispered, pretending she didn’t want me to hear.
“But I don’t understand why I’m given dresses for a woman far above my station,” I said stubbornly.
“The baron prefers pretty things,” Margery said. “Your face is perfectly good, but your clothes won’t do. He wouldn’t like to look at them.”
“And how fine for the baron, to see only what pleases him!”
“It’s his right, isn’t it?” Margery asked innocently.
“Hisright,” I nearly spat. “Did God decree that he should live in luxury while my family starves? Or that when his feet are dirty,youshould wash them? The baron’s shit smells like everyone else’s, and when he dies, he’ll be judged no more kindly than the lowest thief. The worms will eat his carcass, same as they eat a dog’s.”
Agnes gaped at me in horror at my outburst, but I didn’t care. Who was to speak the truth if I wouldn’t?
“I just meant that he tries to see what he wants to see. Don’t we all do that, if we can, milady?” asked Margery.
“I’m not a lady. And I’ve only seen hunger and death and misery.”
“Notonlythat, child. You’ve seen a touch of kindness from the baron, haven’t you?” Margery asked gently. “And from us?”
I turned away from her, because she was right. She’d always been good to me. And the baron was not proving to be the monster I’d assumed he was. Unaware and ignorant, maybe. But once I opened his eyes, he’d fed my family, my neighbors. He was brave in battle, protecting his people and refusing to cower in safety.
And—he found meamusing.
“Well, anyway, come, let’s bathe you,” Margery said. “Let’s comb your hair.”
I knew that I should resist, but I wanted to be clean. To be cared for. Was that so wrong?
An hour or three later, I was perfumed, brushed, and fastened into the purple gown, with a gold chain and a jeweled brooch at my throat. A velvet sash pulled the dress, which was indeed too big, more tightly around my waist. Instead of boots, I wore velvet slippers encrusted with pearls.
“You look like a ladynow,” Margery said.
She held up a piece of polished silver so I could see for myself. She was right. But why me? Why wasn’t Margery ever asked to put on something so fine? She was pretty and soft, with hair the palest gold. If the baron wanted a girl to amuse him, he had one right here under his own towering roof.
“Have you ever been asked to—” I began, and then I gestured mutely to my dress.
Margery’s eyes widened. “Never.”
