* *
In the bedchamber on the other side of the minstrel’s gallery, a single candle glowed on a wall sconce. Rowena was also finding sleep elusive, although for very different reasons. Helvise wasn’t proving to be a very biddable maidservant. In truth, she was being so difficult that Rowena could only conclude that she had taken a strong dislike to her. Helvise was presently lying on a simple bedroll beside her bed, despite all Rowena’s attempts to make her swap places. Leaning up on her elbow, Rowena frowned down at her. It wasn’t that Helvise had actually disobeyed her, but...
‘Helvise?’
Helvise’s pallet rustled. Unlike Rowena’s mattress which was filled with down, the bedroll they had found for Helvise was stuffed with straw and Rowena felt guilty. There was so little room in the chamber that in order to fit the bedroll in, half of it had been shoved under her bed. The result was that Helvise was squashed into a corner and the woman was great with child. She ought to be using the proper bed.
‘Yes, my lady?’
‘I cannot sleep.’
‘I am sorry to hear that, my lady.’
‘It is your fault I cannot sleep.’
‘My lady?’
‘You should not be sleeping on that lumpy pallet.’
‘It’s my mattress and I’m used to it.’
‘Nevertheless, I insist you change places.’
‘My lady, it wouldn’t be right. Sir Eric would be most displeased.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Helvise, Sir Eric need not know. I won’t tell him.’ Rowena made an exasperated sound and flung back her bedcovers. ‘You are with child and you need a good night’s sleep. I insist we swap places.’
There was more rustling as Helvise sat up. ‘Please, my lady, you must keep the bed.’
‘I will not.’ Pushing to her feet, Rowena caught Helvise by the hand and half-pulled and half-pushed, manoeuvring her on to the bed. ‘Lie down and go to sleep. If you do not, I shall be forced to tell Sir Eric that you are unsatisfactory as a maid.’
Helvise bit her lip and Rowena suppressed a twinge of guilt. Her last comment had been a low blow. Helvise’s manner had been distant all evening, it was plain she resented acting as Rowena’s maidservant, but it was equally plain that whatever Helvise thought about her new role, she was anxious to please Eric. Rowena didn’t like to think about the implications of that.
Helvise wrestled with the bedclothes, tugging off the top sheet which she offered to Rowena. ‘Very well, my lady, but you must use this linen. Yesterday Sir Eric sent someone into Provins to buy it especially for you.’
Pleased that she had at last brought an end to the argument, Rowena accepted the sheet and thumped and pummelled the worst of the lumps into submission. ‘Goodnight, Helvise.’
‘Goodnight, my lady.’
Helvise’s voice was so mournful, it struck Rowena that perhaps she was misjudging her. She had jumped to the conclusion that Helvise disliked her, she could be wrong. It was obvious that Helvise was deeply unhappy.
As Rowena closed her eyes she resolved that in the morning she would find out why. Rolling on to her side, her fingers curled into a fist. She willed them to relax. She might not like the answer, but she had to know. Who was the father of Helvise’s child? If it wasn’t Eric, who was it? What had happened to him? Why was Helvise on her own?
* * *
Rowena was in the habit of rising early and she and Helvise went down to the hall to break their fast shortly after dawn. A number of servants and soldiers were ahead of them. Rowena knew a few of them by name already.
‘Good morning, Sergeant Yder.’
‘Good morning, my lady.’
Exchanging smiles and greetings with Eric’s household, Rowena took the place she had taken last night. Eric’s seat was empty, neither he nor his squire were in the hall.
‘Where’s Sir Eric?’ she asked.
A serving woman Rowena remembered as being called Pascale drifted over with a basket of loaves. ‘Sir Eric’s in the stables. Would you care for some bread, my lady?’ With a smile, Pascale offered her the basket.
‘Thank you, Pascale.’
Instead of turning away when Rowena had taken her bread, Pascale dipped into the basket herself and held out a posy of violets tied with green ribbon. ‘For you, my lady, from Sir Eric.’
Conscious of Helvise’s mournful gaze and Sergeant Yder’s wry grin, Rowena felt herself flush as she took the violets. ‘Thank you, they are lovely.’ The flowers trembled as she set them down next to her bread. No one had given her flowers before. Even though she knew Eric had made the gesture to win her over, it was oddly touching.
‘Sir Eric said that if you would care for a morning ride, my lady, he would be delighted to escort you,’ Pascale added. ‘When you have broken your fast, you will find him in the stables.’
* * *
Eric and Alard were talking in the yard when she emerged. Two horses—Rowena was pleased to see that Lily was one of them—had their reins looped round a ring in the wall.
‘The violets are lovely,’ Rowena said, lifting her skirts clear of some straw as she came across. ‘Thank you.’
Eric swept her a bow. ‘It is my pleasure. You would care to ride this morning?’
‘I would love to.’
Eric ran his gaze over her, frowning. ‘Alard, go and ask Helvise to fetch Lady Rowena’s cloak, will you? There’s quite a breeze.’
As Alard loped back towards the manor, Rowena went over to stroke Lily’s nose. The mare whickered in greeting. ‘I am glad you didn’t leave Lily behind,’ she said. ‘I would miss her.’
‘I know. You always did love your horses.’
Eric came to stand next to her, and once again Rowena was struck by his height, she found it slightly daunting. As a young man he’d been tall and lanky. He’d put on a lot of muscle since then, he looked so strong. Would he want to dominate her as her father dominated her mother? Then he gave her an easy smile and she glimpsed the friend that he had been and her fear dissolved.
‘You should have let me ride Lily on the way here,’ she said. ‘It would have been more comfortable for you.’
Firmly, he shook his head. ‘You might have galloped off.’ His eyes danced as he took her hand and lifted it to his lips. ‘I never thought to be asked to guard a gem as precious as you, I couldn’t risk losing you.’
Slowly, green eyes watching her face, Eric turned her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. Rowena’s mouth went dry.
‘Sir, please.’ Embarrassed, Rowena tugged her hand free. Saints, what was wrong with her? It seemed the man had but to touch her and she felt
