Page 78 of Castle of Refuge

“I am very sorry,” Gerard said to her, looking so sincere and reminding her a bit of his brother—though Edwin’s face was infinitely dearer.

“Thank you. Maris went through some horrible things when she was a small child and I was a baby. It greatly affected her and made her terribly jealous. And Father... I believe he could have handled the situation better.” Though perhaps they would think her unseemly to criticize her own father.

Mistress Wattlesbrook squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “Do not worry. Everyone is safe now. And we expect your nurse, Sybil, soon.”

A sudden thought came to her. What if Sybil was intercepted by Maris and Umfrey? That would be grave indeed. But it was very unlikely they would meet, as Maris was fleeing her would-be captors and Sybil was coming here. Besides, Sybil had Lord Dericott’s guard to protect her.

Just as Audrey was wondering about Edwin, she heard footsteps coming down the corridor, then he appeared in the doorway. His eyes met hers.

“Thanks be to God you are safe and found.” Mistress Wattlesbrook pressed her hands together with a huge smile. “And, Audrey, you can put some ointment—this one right here—on the lord’s wounds and bandage them.”

“What wounds?” Edwin said, frowning at her.

“On your wrist. I can see the bloody marks without even looking. Come, Lord Gerard. I must help the servants draw water for you and Lord Dericott and Audrey to bathe yourselves.” Mistress Wattlesbrook motioned to Edwin’s younger brother as she shuffled out the door.

Gerard looked confused, but Edwin raised his brows. Gerard’s eyes went wide and he gave his brother a quick, knowing nod, then hurried away.

When they were gone, Audrey sat back down and Edwin sat on the stool Gerard had just vacated. Edwin stretched out his hand to her. “Mistress Wattlesbrook must always have her way.”

“Yes. We had better do as she says.” Audrey smiled. She opened the flask and poured out a bit of ointment onto her fingers.

She cradled his hand in hers and began to smear the ointment on his wrist where the skin was flayed and starting to scab over.

“It does not smell very good, does it?” she said. “But it is not as bad as the salve my nurse used to put on my cuts and scrapes.”

Their eyes met as they gazed at each other. She drew in a deep breath and let it out, finally looking back down at his wrist.

His hand was very large, with long, strong-looking fingers. There were small scars here and there on his hand, probably from his training as a knight. His skin was warm, and she felt quite comfortable sitting so close to him, touching his hand. He never did anything to make her uncomfortable, even when they had lain behind the waterfall trying to stay warm and hidden from her sister. He had never blamed her for their misfortunes either, though he could have—the way her sister did.

“I’m glad you didn’t die today.” Audrey was trying to make light of what had happened, but it was too soon for that, because she felt the tears dam up behind her eyes again.

Edwin leaned toward her. Was he wanting to kiss her? She stared into his eyes and leaned toward him. She closed her eyes and let her lips touch his.

When the kiss ended, he said, “Will you let me take you somewhere tomorrow morning?”

“Take me somewhere?”

“Yes. I want you to accompany me to a place I think you will like.”

“Of course.”

“At sunrise. I shall come to your room and knock on the door, and we will go.”

“Very well.”

He kissed her again, briefly, as they heard heavy footsteps in the corridor where anyone might walk by and see them. Then she let him kiss her again, and he kissed her until a servant called out that food was being served in the Great Hall. And it had been too long since either of them had eaten to ignore that.

***

Audrey was ready to go when she heard the knock at her door the following morning. The sun would rise at any moment.

“Good morning, Audrey.” Edwin was wearing a white linen shirt that laced up at the top. His dark hair looked freshly washed, and his smile was gentle and respectful. Indeed, he looked very handsome.

“Good morning, Lord Dericott.” Her voice sounded breathless. She did not dare call him Edwin—not yet.

“Are you wearing your sturdiest shoes?” He glanced down at her feet.

“I am. I thought you might be taking me somewhere like the burial mound and the stork’s nest, so yes, I put on my sturdiest shoes.”