parents celebrated with crackers, cakes, and fireworks the day we left." His laughter died. "I felt sorry for Lord Morgan the moment word came he agreed to have her. We all thought someone ought to have warned him the misery his fine title had bought...I guess now it matters not..."
Linness's brow drew together as she listened to this. She cast her eyes to where the girl lay "She looked like she was pretty..."
"I've heard that said before, but I never saw it. ‘Tis said that a person's soul shines out through their skin. Hers was a too harsh glare that made a man squint." His fine eyes focused suddenly on his benefactress. "You, however... you look surrounded in soft candlelight, the kind that fools men into thinking they're starin' at the Virgin beauty And, why, ye speak like any lady I've known."
The pool of his blood touched the edge of her tunic.
Jean closed his tired eyes and felt himself sinking deep into the warm mud of the riverbank. The world grew dimmer, then suddenly brighter,
Linness tried to pull him back "Oh, Sir Jean, shall I remove your mail?"
"Nay, Linness of Sauvage. Go on. Take the poor lady's gowns and any jewels not cut from her fingers." As long as Linness lived, she would never forget the mystical smile that came over the old man's face. "Linness of Sauvage, with ye beautiful gray eyes, ye be more of a lady than Belinda could ever be. If ye are clever, ye could pretend to be her and go in her place."
Once said, the idea took sudden importance in his mind. He opened his eyes to see her more clearly. He chuckled, coughed even, as he reached for her hand and squeezed it. "Lord Morgan has never laid eyes on her before and while he has seen a portrait, you have enough of a liking to Belinda to pull it off. The same long, dark hair and even features. You look about the same size. God's teeth, it could work..." He was smiling, delighted by the idea. "No one, but no one, has ever traveled between here and Montegrel; least of all the girl's parents. Her father's sickly, ye know, what with his gout and all. They think they've seen the last of their daughter. And with your silver tongue, you could be a lady. You could be Belinda. You could land yourself inside the Chateau Gaillard married to its lord and master..."
Astonishment changed her face as she took in the fantastic suggestion. "Me?" she questioned in an awe-filled whisper. Yet he did not respond. She anxiously placed a finger over his mouth. Only to discover his last breath had already left his body.
Hands over her mouth, Linness backed up as her mind rushed over the incredible suggestion. To pretend to be a lady! 'Twas fantastic! Preposterous.
True, she was convent-bred and could pass as a lady with a little finery—she had the tongue and knew most of the manners, she supposed. She could read the Scriptures and write in French letters, but still, would not something give her away? She knew nothing about Montegrel or Nancy. She had never heard of these places before. Still, she often thought one place was very much like another...
What if he, this great Lord Morgan de Chamberlain of Gaillard, discovered her incredible deception? Her thin neck would be strung out over the gates, no doubt.
She glanced back over the scene of death, her gaze stopping on Lady Belinda, the vision coming back to her. Mary wanted her to send the lady’s body into the river. She had seen thus in a vision.
Merciful heavens.
She rushed to Belinda's side and stared down at the body. It was hard to see past the pale mask of death, but aye, when she managed to force herself to look, there was a resemblance. Nay, not a resemblance but a similarity. They were of an age; Belinda looked a bit shorter but mostly the same size and with even features of face. Her own hair was more russet, streaked by the sun and crinkled, but it was the same length as the lady's.
And really, what would it matter if no one had seen Belinda before?
Linness rushed to the riverbed and, sinking to
Linness's brow drew together as she listened to this. She cast her eyes to where the girl lay "She looked like she was pretty..."
"I've heard that said before, but I never saw it. ‘Tis said that a person's soul shines out through their skin. Hers was a too harsh glare that made a man squint." His fine eyes focused suddenly on his benefactress. "You, however... you look surrounded in soft candlelight, the kind that fools men into thinking they're starin' at the Virgin beauty And, why, ye speak like any lady I've known."
The pool of his blood touched the edge of her tunic.
Jean closed his tired eyes and felt himself sinking deep into the warm mud of the riverbank. The world grew dimmer, then suddenly brighter,
Linness tried to pull him back "Oh, Sir Jean, shall I remove your mail?"
"Nay, Linness of Sauvage. Go on. Take the poor lady's gowns and any jewels not cut from her fingers." As long as Linness lived, she would never forget the mystical smile that came over the old man's face. "Linness of Sauvage, with ye beautiful gray eyes, ye be more of a lady than Belinda could ever be. If ye are clever, ye could pretend to be her and go in her place."
Once said, the idea took sudden importance in his mind. He opened his eyes to see her more clearly. He chuckled, coughed even, as he reached for her hand and squeezed it. "Lord Morgan has never laid eyes on her before and while he has seen a portrait, you have enough of a liking to Belinda to pull it off. The same long, dark hair and even features. You look about the same size. God's teeth, it could work..." He was smiling, delighted by the idea. "No one, but no one, has ever traveled between here and Montegrel; least of all the girl's parents. Her father's sickly, ye know, what with his gout and all. They think they've seen the last of their daughter. And with your silver tongue, you could be a lady. You could be Belinda. You could land yourself inside the Chateau Gaillard married to its lord and master..."
Astonishment changed her face as she took in the fantastic suggestion. "Me?" she questioned in an awe-filled whisper. Yet he did not respond. She anxiously placed a finger over his mouth. Only to discover his last breath had already left his body.
Hands over her mouth, Linness backed up as her mind rushed over the incredible suggestion. To pretend to be a lady! 'Twas fantastic! Preposterous.
True, she was convent-bred and could pass as a lady with a little finery—she had the tongue and knew most of the manners, she supposed. She could read the Scriptures and write in French letters, but still, would not something give her away? She knew nothing about Montegrel or Nancy. She had never heard of these places before. Still, she often thought one place was very much like another...
What if he, this great Lord Morgan de Chamberlain of Gaillard, discovered her incredible deception? Her thin neck would be strung out over the gates, no doubt.
She glanced back over the scene of death, her gaze stopping on Lady Belinda, the vision coming back to her. Mary wanted her to send the lady’s body into the river. She had seen thus in a vision.
Merciful heavens.
She rushed to Belinda's side and stared down at the body. It was hard to see past the pale mask of death, but aye, when she managed to force herself to look, there was a resemblance. Nay, not a resemblance but a similarity. They were of an age; Belinda looked a bit shorter but mostly the same size and with even features of face. Her own hair was more russet, streaked by the sun and crinkled, but it was the same length as the lady's.
And really, what would it matter if no one had seen Belinda before?
Linness rushed to the riverbed and, sinking to
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