An Uncertain Choice

“Lady Rosemarie, wait,” came a voice from near the well. I turned to find Sir Collin striding across the edge of the courtyard toward me by way of the stables. He wove through squires and servants busy at work and dodged hens and geese that flapped about the inner bailey. His hair gleamed in the summer sun, turning it the pale gold of ripened wheat. He was not quite as striking as Sir Bennet, but his face was just as pleasant to look on.

The duke’s claim yesterday had been no exaggeration. He had brought three very fine suitors. He was determined to give me the chance to fall in love, as he believed my parents had wanted.

“Oh, fairest one,” Sir Collin said, falling to one knee before me and bowing his head.

I couldn’t keep from smiling at his theatrics.

“I have been searching for you high and low, through city and state, even to the sun and back.” He peered up at me with his dancing green eyes.

“Have you now? Then ’twould seem you have neglected to look for me in one of my favorite spots in all the world.” I was surprised at how easily I bantered with him.

“What a fool am I,” he said, taking in my bouquet and playing along with me. “How could I have neglected the gardens in my search for the Rose among roses?”

Should I hide the bouquet behind my back? Surely Sir Collin would know one of his friends had bestowed it upon me.

But seemingly indifferent to the flowers, he held out his hand. “For you, my lady.”

I opened my palm and he laid an exquisite diamond pin there — ?a pin in the shape of a spiraling rose. “A small token of my affection,” he said more seriously, his eyes turning a darker forest green.

Small token? I stared at the glittering jewels, the intricate and gilded pattern of silverwork. Perhaps it was small in size, but it was in no way a small token. It was beautiful and extravagant. “Sir, I cannot take this —?”

“Consider it my bouquet to you.” He folded my fingers around the pin. “Perhaps it’s not as colorful as what you’ve already been given, but a flower nonetheless.”

He stood and only then did I notice the fine linen of his apparel, the wide gold belt at his waist, and the jewel-encrusted mantel across his shoulders. Everything about his clothing spoke of riches. Although I’d inherited a great deal of land and wealth from my parents, he apparently had much more to his title, enough to give away diamond pins as one would flowers.

“Whether or not you choose me as your true love, I want you to have the pin always. At the very least, it will help you remember this month and the great fun we are about to have.”

I hesitated.

“You’ll have to get used to lavish praise and lavish gifts, my lady.” He gave me a smile of encouragement. “What is chivalry and romance without it?”

“I’m finding it a bit difficult to adjust to,” I admitted, fingering the diamonds. After having two meetings with my suitors in short succession, I hoped I was reacting appropriately.

“Then I shall make it my goal to help you adjust.” He winked. “Perhaps I shall resort to giving you a new jewel every day until you’re accustomed to the lavishness?”

“’Tis often the rarity that makes something so precious, wouldn’t you say? If I were to have such extravagance daily, then I might begin to think the jewels and the praise are ordinary rather than treasure them as I do.”

“You are wise, my lady.” Admiration shone in his eyes.

Was he the one who had stopped the public torture yesterday? I tilted my head and studied him. He was certainly carefree enough to attempt the deed.

“I guess I’ll have to restrain myself around you,” he said in a low voice. “I wouldn’t want you to think me or my gifts ordinary.”

A call from the stables demanded his attention, and with another grin, he bounded away. Lost in a dizzying cloud of emotions, I wandered toward the back of the keep admiring both the flowers and the diamond pin. I had to admit that my anticipation of the next month was growing.

When I reached the far side of the keep and the entryway that led down into the kitchen, I stopped short. There by the door stood a ragged group of beggar children waiting patiently while Sir Derrick handed out slices of bread and Cook ladled soup into their tin cups. At the sight of me, the children gasped and elbowed one another, until finally one of the youth remembered to kneel, as was the custom. Once the older children began to pay their respect to me, the littlest ones followed suit.

“Children.” I smiled and started toward them, recognizing many of their faces. They were from among the poorest of the poor in my land, many having parents who had died or fallen prey to the Plague. Some of the children supported younger siblings. Others were homeless.

I mingled among them, touching a cheek here or patting a head there, bestowing a smile upon each one. As I did, my back warmed under Sir Derrick’s watchful eyes as he followed my every move.

When I finally turned from the children to face Cook, my gaze collided with Sir Derrick’s. Although he didn’t offer a smile, there was something in his expression that said he was pleased with my kindness to the little ones.