Garlands of Gold by Rosalind Laker Page B

want to capture her looks to keep for himself? Was it possible that he was as attracted to her just as she knew she was to him? But since he had chosen to keep that symbol of his admiration out of her sight she could not ask him about it.
    ‘I’ll certainly do my best.’ He saw that she had wandered over to his stack of planks. ‘I’m taking those woods too. They will get me started.’
    She looked over her shoulder at him. ‘Is there anything special about them?’
    He came across to her and tapped the planks in turn. ‘These are box wood. It’s from a tree that doesn’t grow very tall or very big, which means that two planks and sometimes several more have to be fastened together before work can be started on a task of any size.’ He indicated a paler wood. ‘That is called lime wood, but it is from the Linden tree, which I like to work on best of all. It is a very pale wood, but how that will be received in England I don’t know. Oak is that country’s favourite wood for carving of all kinds.’
    Turning away from the planks, he reached for a roll of thick paper on a shelf and began to unroll it into three separate sheets on to a clear space on the bench, putting small tools on the corners to keep them flat.
    ‘I remember that you wanted to see this Tintoretto etching that I brought home.’
    She stood by his side to gaze down at the spread scene, moving slowly to examine it from one end to the other. Christ was depicted on the cross, looking down on the grieving women huddled below, while one of the thieves was being raised up on another cross and the second thief was being nailed to a third. It was all amid busy crowds of spectators, including some in authority on horseback, seeming to be controlling all that was happening. The vitality of movement combined with the compassion and the torment revealed in the masterpiece seemed almost tangible from the force with which it had been created. She could not begin to guess how much more compelling the original painting would be.
    ‘It is magnificent,’ she breathed. ‘I can see why you were rooted to the spot when you saw this masterpiece in Venice.’ When they had studied it together a little longer, she noting every vibrant detail, she spoke again. ‘I’m very grateful that you have let me see this image of it.’
    He gave her one of his smiling glances as he began rolling up the etching again. ‘It was a pleasure.’
    As she stepped away from the workbench she remembered the reason why she was there. ‘This is the first chance I have had to thank you fully for coming to find me on the very night of your homecoming.’
    He raised his brows in surprise. ‘Didn’t you know? Robert was ahead of me in fetching his rapier as soon as Nurse Bobbins’ message was conveyed to us. He would have gone alone to search for you, not wanting me to leave my guests, but naturally I would not let him go alone when it was possible that your safe-keeping was at stake.’ His mouth spread into a wide grin. ‘I think he hoped for some sport. It would not have been the first time he and I used rapiers to end a troublesome incident. We had quite a few adventures on our travels.’
    She was taken aback by the news that Robert would have been the first to come for her. ‘I should express my appreciation to him too. Do you know where I could find him now?’
    ‘I think he’s in the library.’ He gave her a smiling glance. ‘I’ll tell you something else. It was Robert who nicked your assailant and I followed suit with the other rogue.’
    ‘I’m grateful to you both.’
    She left the workshop, but before going to the library she took a few minutes to show Nanny Bobbins the gift she had received. The old woman admired it, holding it between her wrinkled hands, and then she eyed the excited girl keenly.
    ‘You haven’t forgotten my warning?’
    Saskia laughed light-heartedly. ‘Indeed not! It’s just that I have never owned anything so beautiful before.’ Then she