Chapter 19: Three New Arrivals
We have 50 reviews!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 17 reviewers in all!! I love you! .: smiles big :. Actually, I've got 52....hehehe. And as Cheekychik said, Let's aim for that 100! Ok, maybe that's pushing it....60 reviews...very, very realistic.
Hello, first reviewer, Zagato! Yes, a good story, well I think so, at least! Thank you.... oh and Zagato? About the other story...you don't know that....: waves hands all musicallly hoping to make you forget :. You are number 50!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Be pleased!
Cheekychik....Cheeky...hehehehe I like you. Don't get me wrong, adoring fans are loved....but I thank you for your obvious sense of assurance... you know what authors would do for reviews! Yes, yes, I shall write more.... and the heroine...well, we'll see. You are lucky number 51!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hehehehe.
Fou Fou, hehehehe, hermit...funny word...isn't that a little harsh? And yes, the diamonds and the Queen and Natalia will be coming in either this chapter or the next....don't worry.
Kaio, Chrischelle, Kylie, Winndixie, Nosilla, Lalaith, Malista, Manny2003, SukiYumi, LindyLou78, Loving-Life, Alicia, and Charming Visions.... please read. please review.
The Earl of Mattensworth was awakened at the breaking of dawn by his internal clock, which was ever ticking. The heavy curtains were drawn closed, keeping the dawn light out and the Earl's dark thoughts in. He stretched and got out of bed.
Settling at his writing desk and fully dressed, the noble began writing his messages. Rather than draw the curtains, he lit the candles around him....casting a glow about him as sinister as his reputation.
At four minutes to eight, he heard a light scratching on the outer doors.
" What is it?" he barked in irritation.
" I've got your breakfast, sir."
" Well then leave it on the table and go!" The Earl pursed his lips in exasperation. ' Palace help was also more intelligent twenty years ago, too.' he thought uncharitably as the door opened and the servant made her way to the bedchamber doorway. The Earl continued his writing, not even bothering to look up. She stood in the doorway uncomfortably for a while before venturing to ask the obviously irritated man,
" Which table, sir?"
" That table you blasted fool!" The Earl pointed at the bedside table and glared at her. She scurried over and placed the tray carefully on the table before hurrying back to the door, where she curtsied,
" Will you be wanting anything else, Sir?" she asked nervously. The Earl looked up slowly from his writing and said in a voice of dangerously calm,
" If I needed anything else I would have already said something...as it is all I asked for was breakfast at eight and you are four minutes early and are disturbing me greatly. Leave." The maid left, without comment, leaving the Earl to his dark work.
'Probably the most impatient and irritable noble I have ever waited on!' she thought as she left. But she wouldn't let it ruin her day. Nobles were a temperamental and irritable lot as were usual. She would hardly expect anything less.
Hershel fell asleep thinking of Hinda. He slept and dreamt of her. He woke and was thinking of her. Her soft skin, her abundant hair (which, as he recalled, smelt of wild roses), her gentle but excitement-evoking touch. But mostly, he dreamt of her eyes. Her eyes which were so full of (dare he even think it?) love. Her eyes full of amusement and love. Full of pleasure and love. Full of joy...and love.
He smiled widely, feeling pleased with the night before's results. She loved him. Had loved him for quite a time. Love. His grin widened. 'I love thinking that word. Love.' He grinned, slightly ashamed at the immaturity of his own thoughts. Hershel stretched like a cat woken from a nap and rolled his shoulders as he knelt on the blanket-covered floor of the wagon.
Meir stirred and his brother froze, not wanting to wake him. The boy turned over and continued to sleep, the picture of innocence. His brown hair was mussed, and his clothes were rumpled. 'Didn't even bother changing.' Hershel slipped out of the wagon and retied the flaps together.
He stole away from the Caravan Circle and into the woods. The morning was fresh and clear, and invoked sweet songs in the man's mind. He smiled and saw a beam of sunlight that had managed to filter, unhindered to the mossy forest floor. Hershel's smile grew as he spotted a clump of wild flowers near a tree trunk. The shades of the blue and lavender petals varied in each clump, and Hershel chose shades of blue.
He wandered through the forest, and, being a Gypsy, didn't loose his way.
When he had been wandering for a while, a thought stuck him so hard he stopped suddenly. A wide smile broke over his face and he hurried back to the Caravan Circle.
Hinda fell asleep thinking of Hershel. She slept, and while she slept, she dreamt of him. When she woke, her first thoughts were of him. His wonderful touch, the silver bells in his hair which jingled softly when he moved, his firmly muscled arms....the glow in his eyes which spoke of love.
She felt her face flush as she thought of his sweet kisses. Hinda stretched and yawned. 'Last night. Last night was, was good.' Her smile widened. ' Excellent, actually.'
She dressed in a cream coloured loose shirt and a flowing green skirt, 'matches my eyes. At least,' she added to herself, 'that's what Mother says.' The gypsy girl was pulling on her boots when she heard a quiet voice outside the wagon.
Peering out, she saw Hershel standing there, slightly awkwardly, with a few stems of flowers in his hand. A tiny smile played on his lips as he helped her out.
" The morning is good." She greeted him. He returned the greeting and added, "And to see you again is good too." He held the flowers out to her.
" They are lovely, Hershel!" She whispered delightedly as they walked out of the Caravan Circle. Hershel's smile settled on his face and she felt her heart burst at the love she saw in his eye. ' Love so recently grown there,' Hinda thought happily.
" They may well be lovely, but they could hardly rival you in beauty." Hinda chuckled slightly. 'I wonder how many men have said that to their lovers over the ages,' she wondered, still happy with the sweetness of the comment. They smiled at one another as Hershel led her into the forest. They clasped hands and the morning birds serenaded their meandering walk in the otherwise quiet forest.
Natalia had risen at dawn, bathed, dressed and ate before the sixth hour watch had been called and the bells rung. Over and over she played in her mind the scene that she had witnessed the night before.
The Queen had turned towards the door, no more calm that the crowds that gathered at a wine festival. The hold of the Queen's small hands held amazing strength and pain as she clutched at her maidservant and friend's shoulders.
"Do you have them?!" she hissed, her face a mask of worry and fear.
Natalia reached into her pocket and retrieved the cloth package. She held it out to her monarch slowly, whereupon it was snatched out of her hands with the speed of a osprey diving swiping a fish from the water. Queen Moraine's face was a pink shade now, as she stared at the cloth and already cut cords in her trembling hands.
" You opened it?" Her voice was of deadly seriousness and Natalia responded ernestly,
"Of cou'se, Majesty. I didn't know what was in it." From her view of the Queen's back, the maidservant could see her mistress's nodding head.
" Then you must promise on pain of death, no for the safely of your family, that you will tell no-one of this package's existence or the contents of this non-existent package. Do you understand?" Moraine turned and looked her friend in the eye. " You have involved yourself in a very serious enterprise. By opening this package and knowing what it holds, you have endangered you and everyone you hold dear." Natalia's mouth opened in protest or question, but the Queen continued.
" You must promise on my terms. Not to promise will lead to a new position for you. Far from me. Far from your home. Far from this Court." Natalia nodded,
" I swear, Moraine, I swear. I've never seen the package in your hands, I know nothing of it or it's contents." The relief was evident on her Queen's face as she drew a breath and nodded.
Moraine untied the knots and lifted off the rough cloth. She stared at the gems before absently touching them and picking them up, examining them in the window's afternoon sunlight.
" They are perfect." she murmured. "Each a perfect stone. Each worth more than what all the nobles' handmaids and hand servants make in a year...put together." She sighed and looked over at Natalia, whose gaze was still trained on her mistress. Natalia met her gaze and said,
" What is going on? What have you been doing? How could I not have known?" The Queen smiled a tiny smile.
" It is a miracle that you are only finding out now. I have concealed this from you for over a year. How I did it, I know not. I know that if it weren't for your preoccupation with Bram, I never could have mislead you like everyone else." She paused and looked away before adding in a very quiet voice, "Even James doesn't know."
Natalia shook her head as she walked down the cold corridors to the Queen's chambers. She stopped a hall- length away from the main doors to the Queen's chambers. She took out a small copper key and whispered over it. The key glowed a brief yellow and a small engraving on a painting's frame glowed a corresponding yellow.
Natalia replaced the key in her pocket, touched the engraved flower, and climbed through the opening that the painting had covered. Once in, she whispered another phrase and the opening closed.
The opening was a doorway into a servant's corridor, a very small hallway made for the quick and secret passage of servants to and from the Queen's chambers. Such corridors were common in the castles of Arulanthu, but few knew that the Royal Castle had such entrances. Natalia herself had only found out the day before, when the Queen had shown them to her.
" For the Queen's most trusted servants and confidants." she had told Natalia. Now Natalia simply used it for the sake of using it. The thrill of using a secret passageway was irresistible!
Keeping one hand infront of her to ward off any spiders waiting to drop on unsuspecting person, the woman opened her palm and whispered the same spell she'd used in the 'gardens' the day before. Her open palm blossomed with light and she moved quickly down the passageway, smiling in a guilty, immature pleasure.
She reached the end of the passage and the wooden door which stood infront of her seemed very mysterious. Natalia brushed off such feelings of trepidation and tried the handle. The metal was stiff in her hand, but when she persisted in turning it, it grinded slightly and gave. She pushed at the door, but it wouldn't move.
She suddenly became very, very aware that she was in an inclosed passage, which, as she suddenly thought, was quite narrow. The door wasn't opening and she had no way of knowing if the door she had entered through was also an exit.
She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. 'Deep b'eaths, Nat, deep. In, and out.' She inhaled and exhaled a few times, trying to calm herself. It didn't work.
She could feel her breath coming is quick, sharp gasps and she felt her eyes begin to blink rapidly.
" I can't stand it!" She yelled and began hammering on the door, desperately.
Suddenly the door was wrenched open.
" Natalia!" The Queen stared down at her maid servant, who was dasping for breath on the rug where she has fallen when the door had opened.
She knelt down beside her just as Natalia managed to catch her breath.
" What happened? What was in there? Did someone follow you?" Natalia shook her head.
" I, Iā hold," gasp, pant, "on. I ā I couldn't open," she swallowed and took a deep breath before continuing, " the door. I couldn't open it. It wouldn't' open." Natalia look up at the Queen who was smiling and shaking her head. Moraine help her friend from the ground and led her over to the doorway, which a tapestry now covered. Pushing it aside, she pointed to the half closed door.
As she stared at it, Natalia flushed with embarrassment. The Queen took the handle and pulled it to her right. It slid closed on small wheels on the top and bottom of the door. On the top and the bottom of the sliding door.
" Ah." said Natalia.
Sophia was waited anxiously for Abby's reply. The courier had left more than a week and a half ago and none had returned. And she still waited.
The lovely blonde stood at her window day and night, waiting. She felt like her body was being hacked away from the inside. ' By little goblins,' she thought bitterly. The heat of her impending marriage beat down upon her like mid-day sun beats upon the desert sands. She was not, technically supposed to know about it. The Earl must have sent a note cancelling his meeting with the Baron, her Father. Father. 'To most, that must mean protection, safety.' she shook her head bitterly, ' Love.' Her Father knew not of these things. His actions were typical and not unusual of Fathers in the Known Lands. Most had arranged marriages, arranged for the Father's business, hardly ever for the daughter's feelings.
' But I suppose I have a good arrangement. A rich, handsome (I suppose), titled, and politically respected husband. Let's not mention his cruelty, his cold manner, and the fact that he is my best friend's, who, just in case I hadn't forgotten, hasn't written back! Her Father!' Sophia stared at the pathway leading to her manor. Empty. ' Like my heart.' She stopped suddenly. ' No. Not like my heart. My heart is full.' She picked up a white china vase and hurled it against the wall in a fit of passion.
" My heart is full of anger!" she screamed. She stared at the pieces of the former vase, now scattered on the carpet. She knelt on the floor, meaning to pick them up. 'No.' she thought suddenly. ' Why would I do that? I have servants. Servants who don't do anything!' she paused, horrified at her thoughts.
" What has happened to me?" Sophia whispered, shaken. 'How could this change me so?' the woman thought. She pressed her hands to her face and stared vacantly at the broken vase.
" Broken." her voice cracked as she realize the semblance between her and the vase that was in pieces.
She sat there for what seemed like forever, staring.
A maid scratched at her chamber doors.
" Miss? Lady, we heard a scream and something crash, miss. Are you alright?" There was a pause and some whispering, "Pra'ps you'd like something to eat now? I little porridge or some dry toast? Some tea?" The maid stopped and listened hopefully for a response.
The future Baroness had not eaten in over two days. The last she had eaten was a whole roast quail and a handful of new potatoes. At night. When she sleep-walked. Which she did frequently. But the last two nights, she had wandered outside and stood in the doorway and on the path, whispering to herself,
" Where are you? Where are you Abby?" the servants would watch in fascination as the tears ran down her cheeks and she cried out for her friends. "Keosha? Abby? Have you forgotten me? Help me!"
Why she needed help, the servant did not know. What they did know what that while awake, Sophia had been refusing all manner of foods. She may ask for some cold or hot water, but none had seen her in daylight for over five days. She wouldn't leave her room. She changed her own linens and handed out her dirty laundry for washing. Besides her slim hands, she kept herself hidden.
" It's to do with that awful Earl's visit not a week ago, you mark me words now, Lil." The cook had been sure of it, and soon the rest of the household blamed that awful Earl for their distress over their Baroness.
'Their Baroness'. Not 'The Baroness'. Lady Sophia, as most called her, was not particularly sweet or compassionate, but seeing as most nobles had only harsh words and criticism for the lower classes, nobles of both Lady Abigail and Lady Sophia's caliber was hardly found. So Lady Sophia was treasured and beloved, and seeing her is thus such a state was not to be borne!
But there was little that the servants could do. Sending up trays of goodies to tempt their mistress had been their first plan. It failed. They had then started playing their home music, but the Baron had put a quick stop to that. The servants were now sending up flowers from the gardens that Sophia loved to walk in, folded secretively in the bed linens each day, hoping to draw her outside. So far, this too, had failed.
Sophia had heard the knockings and the entreatments to eat something. She shook her head, and would have smiled if she had had the energy. But she didn't so she called to the servant,
" I'm fine. I'm not hungry. Thank you." Sophia paused, hoping her weak voice had been heard. She crawled over to her bed and gathered enough energy to lay down on it. She closed her eyes and willed sleep and the peace that came with it, to come to her.
Sleep came. But peace remained as far away her friends.
The Healer entered Abby's room quietly, hoping he wouldn't disturb the two people who slept near the noblewoman's bed. Keosha stirred anyway and the Healer shrugged and continued towards them.
She looked at him and he held out the bundle of clothes in his arms.
" These are her clothes," He whispered, barely audible. He pulled something out of his Healer's apron and pressed it into her hand, saying, "The cleaning people saw this in her bed chamber and seeing as how it wasn't opened, thought to pass it on to you." Keosha blinked and tried to utalise her mouth. Failing she merely nodded and the Healer patted her kindly on the arm before leaving.
Keosha shook her head to clear the fuzziness of sleep and held the paper the Healer had given her up. It was a letter.
'Lady Abigail of Mattensworth, Daughter of the Earl of Mattensworth'
Ah. The letter from her father. She glanced at the still figure on the bed, shrugged, turned over the letter and broke the Earl's seal. She blinked and squinted a few times to clear her vision. Walking over to the window, where white light filtered through, she read the letter silently.
Abigail,
By now you are at the castle that serves as the Royal Court. You may have been introduced to the King, but I doubt it. I am coming to the Royal Castle myself, in three days.
I will be there on a matter of business, to announce my forthcoming marriage. Today I have an appointment with the Baron of Lelly's Brook, to finalise the final arrangements for his daughter's hand.
I find that I need an heir other than a daughter, so I am forced to wed again. A pity and a waste of precious commodities, but necessary for a male heir.
I may call upon you, at which time I will discuss certain prospects for your own approaching nuptials.
Until then,
Earl of Mattensworth.
Keosha stared at it. He was here! They had received the letter, what, five days ago? Why hadn't she opened it? 'Probably trying to put unpleasantries from her mind.' Keosha thought sadly. Then her thoughts turned to rage. The Earl was plotting with the Baron of Lelly's Brook for Sophia's hand! 'I wonder if it went through?' Keosha hoped for a brief second that it wasn't, but it seemed unlikely that the Earl hadn't gotten what he wanted.
She stopped leaning on the wall beside the window and walked shakily towards the Healing Quarters hallway. Peering out, she noticed that page boy from their first visit to the Healing Quarters, 'What's his name?' Keosha wondered. 'Ah. Patrick or something like it. I'll try it and hope for the best.'
" Patrick!" she called, and she was appalled at the scratchy and unused sound to her own voice. But it did the trick anyway, as the page turned and half jogged towards her.
He eyed her anxiously before he said in a quiet voice,
" I'm sorry she's ill, miss. Is there anathing I could do?" Keosha nodded and cleared her throat before speaking,
" Do you know the castle gossip?" The page nodded, so she went on, "Do you know if the Earl of Mattensworth has arrived at Court yet?"
" Oh aye, he has. Arrived two days ago, at around eight in the evening. Talked with the Count before he wen to his rooms." Keosha frowned.
" What Count?" The page threw her a puzzled glance before saying,
" The man who greets newcomers so Court, miss. The man who Gorison serves." Keosha paused in thought before nodding.
" He never told us his name when we came."
" Aye, he does that a lot, a bit forgetful, that one. A little off, say the rumors." Keosha nodded absently and thanked Patrick. The page trotted off down the hall and the maidservant ducked back inside.
She walked towards the bed and reread the Earl's letter.
'... discuss certain prospects for your own approaching nuptials...' Keosha sighed. So the Earl planned to follow through with his threats. Not that Keosha had thought otherwise, but for the sake of her friend, had hoped for the impossible. No doubt he'd marry her to either a young, very rich man or a very rich old man. 'I suppose the latter would be preferred, if he's ill. Though,' she thought, shuddering slightly, ' I'd hate to give an old man pleasure in bed. Whether she marries a young man or an old geezer, it would not be a good marriage, certainly not happy or love-filled at all.'
Keosha's gaze fell to her friend's pale face. Abby hadn't moved in the time that Lord Dewhurst had come. ' If she dies, she will have escaped an unhappy marriage, that much is certain.' Then her eyes brimmed with tears at her own thought.
Keosha transferred the bundle of clothes to her other hand to brush the tears away. She frowned. She moved the clothes again and heard the sound she had thought she had heard earlier. The crinkle of paper.
Keosha walked over to the bed and placed the clothes gently on the edge. She quickly found a letter, stuffed in one of Abby's pockets. Keosha looked at the letter for a long time. She recognized the handwriting that addressed it to her mistress.
The letter from Sophia had arrived four days ago...Abby hadn't responded. She glanced over the letter, remembering how Abby had read it aloud as Keosha brushed and plaited her hair. She shook her head as the thought of the hurtful words that had been spoken. ' I'd rather argue with her for a million years than to say good-bye now...' She closed her eyes, a vain attempt at keeping her tears in check.
Antony opened his eyes to see Keosha standing with the two letters in her hands, eyes closed, with tears trickling down her cheeks. She stood that way for a long time. The nobleman got up silently and hugged her from behind, not saying a word.
Keosha leaned against him for support, both physical and emotional. They stood there awhile, thinking and crying.
Marcus sat sipping tea, waiting for Jeanine to finish dressing. ' Why is it that all I want is to see her and she has to dress up just to see me.' He stared at the light brown liquid, overly sweet for his taste. But Jeanine's maidservant put two spoons of sugar in the tea before he could protest, smiling seductively all the while.
' Of course, she can hardly be blamed,' the noble thought, ' My tastes have changed since my last visit.' He reflected at the changes. He was wealthier. He had less expensive tastes. He no longer enjoyed eating rabbit. He was in love with a women he had met once. And kissed twice. ' That can't be good.' he thought, probably for the hundredth time.
His thoughts broke as the doors opened and he stood, waiting the noble woman who entered.
Her blonde hair fell to her shoulders in carefully tended curls, and her eyes and lips were enhanced with the use of cosmetics. Her gracefully swaying body was enough to make any man lust, and Marcus was no exception. He started at this realization. He lusted after her, the same as any man would lust after a beautiful woman. But that was all he felt: lust.
Jeanine smiled heart-wrenchingly at the nobleman. She spread her arms out towards him and rushed over,
" Marcus!" They embraced, but any affection was one-sided. She kept her arms about his neck and looked into his face. She smiled again and turned her face upwards, awaiting his kiss.
Here was a dilemma. 'Do I kiss her like her loving betrothed and leave off telling her of what I no longer feel? Or do I kiss her on the cheek and sit her down? I cannot tell her now.' Marcus's thoughts rushed through his head, all a-jumble. 'No. I must act brotherly only. God knows what Antony would do to me, friends though we are, if I did otherwise while intending to break our engagement.'
His mind made up, Marcus smiled back at her and kissed her cheek softly. A small frown creased Jeanine's fair brow, and her narrowed in confusion.
" How have you been while I was gone? Has anyone new arrived at Court?" Marcus quickly turned to the refuge of converation, and was glad when she followed his lead.
" I have been well, though a small head-cold plagued me for a day or so. But you know me, I am able to fight off illnesses quickly." she smiled and led him over to where he had sat before and motioned that he drink his tea. "And three new people have arrived at Court. One you know well, the other you may have heard of (thought I doubt it), and the other you will not know at all." Marcus leaned back on the settee,
" Am I to guess their identities, then?" At her playful nod, he smiled again. "One who I know. As a friend or as an acquaintance?" Jeanine paused a moment,
" An acquaintance, I suppose."
"Ah. Let me think. Sir Michael Hemstone? Or Lord Timothy Hastings?"
" No, and no, thought Lord Timothy is rumored to be engaged, and his bride apparently wants a Court Wedding, so he may come after all."
" Count Frankson?"
" Nay. Oh, wait, Marcus, I suppose you know his wife aswell. She is come to Court also."
" That narrows the field considerably. Hmm, a married couple. The Earl of Glimsby and Lady Lorna?"
" No, no, they've denounced Court for good."
" Lord and Lady Tilney?" Lady Jeanine's smile widened.
" Quite correct, darling! They are come back to Court after three years. Such a darling couple. But there are others who've come aswell. One you may have heard of and one you shan't know at all. Go on." Marcus guessed for a few minutes, learning little tidbits about the people he asked. Finally, he sighed. An outrageous suggestion popped into his mind and in a moment of lunacy said it aloud,
" The Earl of Mattensworth?" Lady Jeanine smiled. It was obvious that her betrothed was becoming frustrated with the game.
" You did take your time about it, didn't you?" Marcus sat up.
" Are you telling me that the Earl of Mattensworth is at Court?"
" Yes..." She looked at him, puzzled at his reaction. " He may be a bit standoffish, but he's not a complete recluse." Marcus just stared at her, unable to believe that his random guess would strike the truth. Th Earl. Her Father. Jeanine leaned towards him, concerned,
" What is it, darling? You seem a little out of sorts?" Marcus shrugged and pushed his shock aside. He smiled at her and asked,
" Now, was that the person I'd have heard of or the person I don't know at all, other you wouldn't think I'd know?"
" That was the one you would have heard of, Marcus."
He raised an eyebrow at Jeanine. "How am I to guess a person has come to Court that I haven't heard of?" She smiled.
" You must be very tired, darling. You normally would have picked up on that far sooner. I'll just tell you who she is." Marcus felt a sickening feeling crawl up his belly, up his throat and settle in his mouth. He swallowed. An awful premonition constricted his throat.
" Let me guess," he choked out, "Lady Abigail of Mattensworth."
Jeanine looked at him, the half smile on her face, now frozen with confusion. "How...?" She faltered, "How did you know that?" Marcus felt the bile of his stomach pool in his mouth. Lady Abigail was at court. The same court of his betrothed. 'This is just not good.'
He laughed shakily, very shakily. Too shakily. Jeanine leaned over and touched his arm,
" Marcus? What's wrong?" He shook his head.
" Nothing, nothing. I just had not thought to, that is I, of all the people to come to Court I would not have expected her." He inwardly groaned, remembering his words to her that night, '...may I ask why you do not grace King James's Court? Actually, upon reflection, I don't want to know, for you were there, all the noble men would be begging to dance with you. Furthermore, they would pay just to gaze upon you. No, I am glad I have seen the most beautiful woman in the entire world before King James himself...' But before he could recall any other possibly damaging things he'd said, Jeanine continued talking,
" I don't see why not, she's seventeen. It's high time she was at Court. If anything you ought to be surprised that she wasn't here three years ago. Many girls come at fourteen or even thirteen."
Marcus nodded and stood abruptly.
" I- I must go, Jeanine. I shall see you...another time. Good morning." He set down his cup and saucer and fled from the noblewoman's rooms, her voice calling after him,
" Marcus? Marcus! Where are you going? What's afoot?"
Marcus made his way back to his chambers and was just at his door when a voice behind him caused him to pause.
" Sir DeBracey?" Marcus turned and stared down at Lady Abigail's handmaiden, Keosha. ' Oh my gods.'
Posted on the 6th of October, 2oo4.
Hehehehe. Sorry it took so long.... Now review!
