Beatrice was smiling now, looking up into Lord le Wyse’s face and thanking him profusely, insisting that she couldn’t make it to her bed in the undercroft without his help. Lord le Wyse called out to Gilbert Carpenter as he was passing nearby, and Annabel watched Beatrice’s smile shift direction. Lord le Wyse turned the limping girl over to Gilbert and then hurried up the manor steps. Gilbert in turn disappeared into the undercroft with Beatrice hanging on to him.
Whether Beatrice was hurt or not, she’d managed to claim the attention of both Lord le Wyse and Gilbert Carpenter, at least for a few moments. But Annabel was surprised at how much the sight of her in Lord le Wyse’s arms, then hanging on to him as he helped her down the steps, had made her want to slap Beatrice silly. The dairymaid was obviously only pretending.
A rustle in the grass near her foot made her look up. Gilbert Carpenter stood gazing down at her. He nodded politely.
“Miss Annabel. Would you take a walk with me?”
He’d certainly rid himself of Beatrice quickly.
Annabel sought an excuse not to go with him, but she could think of nothing. She turned to Mistress Eustacia, but her mistress kept her eyes on her needlework and refused to look up. Finally, she made an effort to keep the reluctance out her voice — without sounding eager, either. “Of course.”
She pretended not to see the hand he offered as she got to her feet. She glanced around for Adam. He was nowhere to be seen, and she turned to follow the master mason.
Again she asked herself if she could imagine being married to this man. Would she be able to put aside her squeamishness and let him touch her? Somehow the thought remained repugnant. Perhaps she should tell him she had no interest in him, so he could give up on her and hunt for a wife elsewhere. After all, Adam wasn’t around to hear.
Gilbert glanced at her shyly from the corner of his eye. He seemed nice enough, and he was rather handsome, after all. Why couldn’t she feel for him what the other girls in the undercroft seemed to think she should feel for him? She should be grateful he wanted to marry her and make her a free woman again.
They walked in silence around the outer edge of the courtyard, turning toward the trees that led to the site of Lord le Wyse’s new home.
Finally, Gilbert spoke. “So you like animals?”
“Yes.”
“I saw you petting that ewe lamb. I like animals too. I generally don’t have much time to spend with them, with my work.”
“Me, neither.”
“If you like animals, I would buy you as many as you want — sheep, goats, chickens, geese …”
Annabel felt her cheeks heat. How could she tell him she had no interest in what he could give her? It made her feel mean and awkward, but somehow, she had to tell him. “I should tell you that although I love Adam and think you will make someone a good husband, I’m hoping to enter a convent some day.” Of course, she had no idea if that would ever happen, but she was still hoping, wasn’t she?
“I see.”
They entered the cover of the trees, ambling slowly now down the lane to the river.
She wasn’t sure how to continue the conversation after she’d so thoroughly sabotaged it. They walked along in silence. Finally, she worked up the courage to say, “I know Adam had a notion that he’d like to see us marry, but there are a lot of young maidens who — “
“I see you don’t think of me as a husband, Miss Annabel, but if it’s all right with you, I’d still like to try to change your mind.” He turned to face her, and before she knew what he was about to do, he took her hand in his and stared into her eyes. “I don’t mind waiting until you are ready.” He lowered his head and scuffed the ground with his foot. “I promise to try not to make you uncomfortable, but … I still hope you will change your mind … about me.”
His fingers felt clammy and cool. When he let go, she shuddered in relief. Holding his hand made her feel like running away.
He looked so humble and harmless, she nodded. “Very well.”
Gilbert Carpenter wasn’t ugly or frightening, and she was fond of Adam. The thought of someone caring for her above all others, bound to protect her and keep her safe and provided for, was not an abhorrent thought. She just couldn’t imagine that person being Gilbert Carpenter.
It was almost time for bed, and Annabel stepped carefully in the dark, wishing she’d asked someone to come with her, but at least she still carried her knife. Sometimes she asked Beatrice to go with her to the privy, but Beatrice wasn’t being very friendly today. Most of the maids didn’t walk all the way down the rustic path, as the privy was deep in the woods, well away from the manor house. Most simply found a thick bush to squat behind. But she preferred to avail herself of the privacy of the little wooden building.
She glanced at the trees that crowded the well-worn path on both sides, knowing the wooden privy stood in a small clearing ahead. Just when she was about to lose what little nerve she’d retained during her walk, her destination appeared in the dappled moonlight that filtered through the leaves.