Sir Clement went over to help his clerk by rolling up the parchment and tucking it into a bag to keep it dry while the clerk packed up his things.
Annabel’s eyes flicked to Maud, standing in the rain, and she could have sworn she saw steam rising from the girl’s head. The way Maud narrowed her eyes at Lord le Wyse before turning away sent a shiver through her. Annabel should have been relieved at the way things had concluded, but her insides still trembled with foreboding.
A hand closed around her elbow. She jumped and turned her head.
“Oh, it’s you, Stephen.” She threw her arms around his neck. “God saved us, didn’t He?”
“He did indeed.”
Annabel pulled away. “You should get out of the rain.”
Stephen nodded. Annabel turned and ran to the manor house.
Maud left Lord le Wyse’s service that day, clearing her things out of the undercroft. Annabel didn’t see her after the inquest, but some of the other maids said she was to live with her sister in a nearby village. Annabel prayed for her but was relieved she no longer had to see Tom’s daughter.
Beatrice’s duties as a dairymaid increased. On the first day of Maud’s absence, she sat at one end of the upper hall churning butter as Annabel swept the floor. The girls chatted, until Lord le Wyse came through the door and walked across the nearly empty hall to the screened-off corner of the room where his bed and trunks were stored. Annabel glanced at him as he passed by her.
Beatrice was watching him as well. She smiled her biggest, toothy grin. “Good morning, Lord le Wyse.”
He mumbled, “Good day.”
The fact that he didn’t even glance in Beatrice’s direction gave Annabel an unaccountable feeling of joy.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” Beatrice asked. Her smile was wasted, as Lord le Wyse was hidden behind his screen.
He didn’t answer her, and with a small smile of her own, Annabel went on sweeping. Then she heard a quick series of loud thuds. She looked up to see Beatrice sprawled on the floor, her head and shoulders pinned against the wall by the heavy butter churn. Her stool lay overturned beside her. She certainly has persistence.
“Help me! I can’t move!” Beatrice whimpered dramatically, struggling feebly on the floor.
Lord le Wyse emerged from behind his screen. Annabel hurried to help, but Lord le Wyse was closer. He reached down and lifted the stone churn off of Beatrice then held out his hand to her.
“Oh, thank you, Lord le Wyse.” She clasped his hand and let him help her up, then pretended to stumble into him, throwing her arms around his neck.
Annabel felt her face get hot. Could Lord le Wyse see what Beatrice was doing? And did he think Annabel had done the same thing when she had cried in his arms?
Lord le Wyse patted Beatrice on the back with one hand but didn’t embrace the girl. He looked over her shoulder at Annabel. “Could you set that stool up?”
She righted the stool and Lord le Wyse promptly lowered Beatrice onto it, holding her by her arms. Beatrice continued to cling to him.
“I’ve hurt my ankle again. Oh, Lord le Wyse, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here. You saved me again.”
Lord le Wyse gently extricated her hands from around his neck and pulled away from her as soon as he was free. “I’ll go get Mistress Eustacia to come look at your ankle.”
He turned and strode across the room and out the door.
Annabel frowned down at Beatrice.
Beatrice smirked at her. “Picking up ideas of your own, Annabel? With all that time you spend with him every night, I would think you would have already found a way to his heart. But maybe you’re too prudish.”
She stared at the girl’s big nose and rude sneer. “I’d rather be prudish than throw myself at my lord, like you, Beatrice.”
Beatrice rose to her feet. “’Maybe you’re afraid of Lord le Wyse. Is that it? Does he scare you, Annabel?” She laughed.
Beatrice stepped toe to toe with Annabel, their noses almost touching. Punching Annabel’s shoulder with her fingernail, she said, “I want you to stay away from Lord le Wyse. He’s mine. You will tell him that you can’t read to him anymore, that it’s improper. Do you hear me?”
Annabel’s face grew hot and a red fog seemed to descend over her vision. “I will not. I do not take orders from you, and if you do anything to hurt Lord le Wyse,” Annabel hissed in Beatrice’s face, “I’ll give you a bloody nose you’ll never forget.”
Annabel tried not to show it, but she was shocked at her own vehemence. What had come over her? She was shaking all over as she stared at Beatrice’s stunned expression.
Mistress Eustacia hurried into the room, asking Beatrice if she was all right. Annabel turned and left the room.
That afternoon, as Annabel took a break from her labors in the kitchen, she walked to the edge of the courtyard and breathed in deeply of the fresh, early autumn air. Birds twittered nearby, and Annabel took several deep breaths, still thinking of what had happened during the special court session.