“How are you?” Annabel reached out to clasp his hand.
He took her hand in his and gave her a smile, faint in the waning light. “I am well, as ever.” He lowered his voice. “I heard about you having to come here, of your mother’s indenturing you to Lord le Wyse.”
“Oh, it isn’t like that exactly.” Of course it is. “I-I offered to come, to help Mother. How are my mother and brothers? Did they … did they ask you to come inquire about me?” She bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t asked the question but holding her breath for his answer.
“Nay.” He winced as if he knew it hurt her.
“No matter.” She smiled broadly, and her voice went up in volume and pitch in her attempt to appear cheerful. “It’s good to see you, Stephen.”
“Lord le Wyse commissioned me to build some furniture for him, as well as to do some carving for his new home. I’ll be in charge of the woodwork — the doors and shutters, a stair railing, things like that.”
Annabel felt genuine joy at the look of pride on his face. “Oh, that’s wonderful, Stephen. Your furniture is very fine, and your carving is the best I’ve seen.” His legs’ lack of strength didn’t hinder his immense talent at all kinds of woodworking.
“I brought you something.” He swung the cloth bag off his shoulder, reached inside, and pulled out a small bundle. “Mother sends you this — her fried pasty that you liked so much as a child.”
She took the food, wrapped in a square of cloth, and tears burned her eyes. “Dear Alice.” Their former servant, Stephen’s mother, thought enough to send her a small message of kindness. She bit back the tears and nodded, unable to look him in the eye. After a deep breath, she was able to say, “Please tell her thank you. It was very kind of her.”
“I brought you something else.” He reached in again and pulled out a small wooden box. “I thought you might want someplace to put things. See? It has a lock.” He took a key from his pocket and turned it in the tiny keyhole. The lid opened to reveal a space about the size of a large fist, rectangular, suitable for storing coins or other small items.
“How clever you are, Stephen. There isn’t another man in Glynval with such skill. Thank you.” She embraced him then stared down at the beautiful wooden box. Stephen was truly more like a brother than a friend, more her sibling than Edward and Durand.
“I’ll be going now, Annabel. But I’ll be nearby every day. If you need anything, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
She nodded and gave him another quick hug. He turned and began to walk away.
She watched him for a moment, a thickness in her throat, then turned to join the rest of the maids and find her bed.
“Gilbert Carpenter is handsome.” Beatrice made this declaration, drawing giggles and exclamations from several other maidens in the undercroft who seemed much more intent on the conversation than on getting ready for their night’s repose.
Annabel tried to look as inconspicuous as possible as she quickly shed her clothes and donned her nightgown. She kept her head down and pretended not to listen.
“He’s skinny enough,” a buxom, rather large redhead asserted. “I could pick him up and carry him.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled suggestively, causing the other maidens to hoot in glee.
Annabel hurried to crawl under the covers of her bed, praying no one would ask her what she thought.
“I would have him,” Beatrice declared.
Though the other maidens laughed, no one seemed surprised by her statement.
“But his boy, Adam, has his heart set on Annabel for his ma.”
All eyes turned to Annabel amid ohs and ah-has.
She froze, her hands clutching the sheet to her chin. She tried to sound careless. “Don’t be silly. I’m not interested in Gilbert Carpenter.”
“Why not?” Beatrice asked, a surprised and almost angry look on her face. “He’s an eligible, free man, and he could get you out of here, let you be a free woman again — and your future children too. You’d be sleeping in your own bed, keeping your man warm every night.”
A few hoots went round.
Of course, it must seem to everyone that the master mason would be an excellent catch for an indentured servant like Annabel. But how could she explain that their crude idea of love didn’t seem satisfying, and a good-looking husband wasn’t all she wanted in life?
Annabel shrugged and tried to look apologetic. Please let them forget about me and change the subject of conversation.
Maud prodded, “Someone else catch your fancy, then?”
She’d been accused of thinking she was too good for Glynval men. She was tired of their teasing, but she didn’t want to lie. “Not exactly.”
Maud stared hard at her, almost squinting. “Surely not that cripple I saw you talking to.”