Page 32 of Castle of Refuge

Lord Dericott was watching Audrey as she observed theswans. He moved along as well, and soon they were at the stables near the castle.

“I enjoyed our walk. Fare well,” he said, nodding to her, then handing his horse off to a groom as he spoke to him.

Audrey’s heart skipped a beat as she watched him leave. This was the man she might have married had it not been for Maris. She might have been mistress of this impressive castle and all the servants—instead of being a servant. But she could not think about that. The priest was always saying that God was sovereign, and she’d read in the Holy Writ that even a sparrow did not fall to the ground without God knowing about it. So God must have a reason for allowing her scars.

She hurried away to the castle to find Mistress Wattlesbrook.

***

Edwin sat in his library at the back of the castle on the ground floor. The roomy armchair that had once been his father’s was lined all around with cushions. His father had been known to fall asleep in it.

Instead of sleeping, Edwin was reading. He’d studied French and Latin and, for a very short time, German, and as he had spoken only English for the last few years, he was reading a French epic poem to try and keep the language fresh in his memory. French was often spoken at court, and all the noblemen spoke it, so he felt it his duty to make certain he did not forget it.

A servant girl—Audrey—entered the room and began to dust the sheepskin- and leather-bound books. As he was sittingin a corner by the open window, she did not yet see him or know he was there. Perhaps he should clear his throat or make some other noise to let her know she was not alone.

The girl rubbed the spines of the books and looked to be examining them closely, leaning in as her dust cloth barely moved. Then to his surprise she pulled one of the books off the shelf. She held it in her hands, staring down at it for a moment before opening it.

She was so still as she looked down at it, she must be reading. And since most of the books on that shelf, he happened to know, were in French...

Did she know how to read? And in French? Surely not. Not unless she was the daughter of a nobleman, and no nobleman’s daughter would be working as a servant.

She kept gazing down at the book. After two or three minutes she turned the page. And still she stared, motionless, at the page before her.

“Parlez-vous français?”

She jumped and slapped the book closed, spinning around at the same time. “I didn’t know anyone was here,” she said breathlessly.

“Forgive me for startling you. Do you read?”

“I’m so sorry.” She started putting the book back into its place but fumbled so much she nearly dropped the book, and she did drop her dusting cloth. “I was wondering if there were any illuminations. I love to look at the drawings and colorful... Forgive me for disturbing you. I will come back when you are not...” She turned toward the door.

“You do not need to go. You were not disturbing me at all.” He stood up from his chair to move closer to her.

“Mistress Wattlesbrook would not wish for me to be in here while you are working or reading, so I will go.”

“Before you go,montrez-moi le livre que vous lisiez.”

She turned toward the bookshelf and reached for the book. So she did understand French.

She snatched her hand back and spun to face him. “I should go.” She nearly ran for the door.

“Stop. Please.”

She stopped, but she did not turn around.

“Comment avez-vous appris?” he asked.

She faced him, her eyes wide and her cheeks pale.

She must be a nobleman’s daughter. But what terrible misfortune had befallen her that she should find herself here, among strangers, cleaning Dericott Castle?

***

Audrey’s heart pounded sickeningly. What could she do? Lord Dericott was demanding to know how she learned to speak French. Or to read? She was not sure which he meant. But no servant girl should be able to do either.

She couldn’t tell him the truth, but how could she lie? And how could she avoid answering him? Simply changing the topic of conversation would not save her now.

“Please forgive me, my lord. I should not have been touching your book.” Her eyes filled with tears of confusion and fear.She had nowhere to go if she had to flee again. What if she was robbed again? Or attacked? “Please do not send me away.”