The Merchant's Daughter

Annabel slapped her hand away. “I’ll do what Mistress Eustacia tells me and so will you.”

 

 

“You just want Lord le Wyse all to yourself. I don’t believe you’re reading to him all that time, so what do you do up there? Tell us all about it, Annabel.” Beatrice stood a few inches taller than Annabel and glared down at her with her hands on her hips.

 

Annabel forced a laugh through her tight throat. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Beatrice, but there’s nothing happening except reading.” Perhaps you should stop thinking like our priest.

 

“Then let me change his bandage tomorrow.”

 

“If that’s what you want, Beatrice, you are welcome to take on as much of my work as you like.”

 

Beatrice leaned even closer, until her nose was almost touching Annabel’s.

 

Annabel laughed again. “You can change his bandage tomorrow, Beatrice. I truly don’t care.” But she did care — a little bit — if she were honest with herself. Beatrice trying to touch Lord le Wyse, trying to tempt him to think of her as more than just a servant … The thought was so unpleasant Annabel had to turn away from Beatrice to keep the girl from seeing the daggers in her eyes.

 

Beatrice said a few more things about being allowed to help Lord le Wyse, making vague threats if Annabel got in her way, but Annabel wasn’t listening. She was too busy pushing away the image of Beatrice enticing Lord le Wyse.

 

 

 

 

 

Annabel went about her duties the next day. This time, when she filled Lord le Wyse’s tankard, he said, “Thank you.” He was still quiet, but his mood no longer seemed so black. As he ate, he gazed out the window instead of staring down at his drink with a grimace on his face. Perhaps the Bible reading was doing him as much good as it was her. She felt a lightness in her heart that she hadn’t felt since her father died.

 

He had also begun staring at a red rose on the stone mantle above the fireplace. It was a beautiful rose, and had been opening a little bit more every day since Mistress Eustacia picked it and brought it inside. Annabel had never seen a more perfect flower. It seemed to grow fuller and more beautiful every day.

 

Later, when she was outside helping Mistress Eustacia hang out the washing, she noticed Lord le Wyse walking with Gilbert Carpenter, who held a sheet of parchment they seemed to be perusing and discussing. She watched as they strolled with their backs to her, obviously deep in conversation. Gilbert turned to Lord le Wyse and seemed very animated, moving his arms and hands as he talked. Lord le Wyse looked at the parchment and at him, nodding every so often. Then he reached out and picked a sizable leaf off a tree. He studied the leaf in his hand, and Annabel wondered if he was even listening to the mason.

 

Lord le Wyse’s shoulders were very broad compared to Gilbert’s. He was several inches taller too, and his posture was regal, yet relaxed. Gilbert was wiry, while Lord le Wyse was solid.

 

She shook her head, suddenly realizing how long she’d been staring at the two men, comparing their looks. She went back to hanging the clothes on the line.

 

She determined to dismiss thoughts of her lord and his master mason and think instead on the tasks Mistress Eustacia had given her to do that day. It was a long list, and Annabel ticked off each task in her head until Lord le Wyse and Gilbert Carpenter disappeared down the path toward the site of her lord’s new home.

 

That night after the evening meal, Eustacia brought the bandages, honey, and clean water to Annabel and nudged her toward where Lord le Wyse sat. She looked up into the mistress’s face. Surely the older woman didn’t have romantic ideas about Annabel and her lord. I must be imagining it.

 

Beatrice sidled up between Mistress Eustacia and Annabel immediately.

 

“I can change the lord’s bandage tonight, Mistress Eustacia. I have some herbs that are very good for burns.”

 

Mistress Eustacia looked at the girl then shook her head. “Lord Ranulf is used to Annabel dressing his wound, and the lord is very picky, he is. You run along and get yourself to bed.”

 

“Please, Mistress Eustacia.” Beatrice had lowered her voice to a whisper so no one else would hear. “I have these special herbs. I told Lord le Wyse about them last night — I think he wants to try them.”

 

Mistress Eustacia didn’t say anything for a moment, then said firmly, “If you wish to leave your medicines for him, I will take them, but Annabel will do the dressing.”

 

Beatrice held the bags of herbs away from Eustacia’s reaching hand. “I’ll give them to him myself.” She turned and flounced out of the room.

 

Annabel looked at her mistress. “Last night she asked if she could bandage his arm. I don’t mind.”

 

“Nonsense. I will not have her … well, never mind. You do as I tell you and take care of Lord Ranulf’s arm. That’s a good girl.”

 

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