Rebellious Love Read Free Page A

eyes. Hilda's chin wobbled precariously as she gathered her charge in a loving embrace. "Poor little thing! It was that father of yours who put such thoughts into your head. No wonder you expect the worst. But you must know, Lord Curran is not the same sort of man. He is—"
    Hilda broke off, interrupted by a knock at the chamber door. She opened it to reveal two serving women carrying a tray of food and an ewer of steaming water.
    "Well, don't just stand there," the nurse snapped. "Put those things on the table."
    The women obeyed, gazing at Verony surreptitiously. She did not recognize them, but supposed they were members of the d'Arcy household sent to help look after their lord's comfort. Dimly she remembered that Curran's mother, the Lady Emelie d'Arcy, was renowned for the beauty and hospitality of her home. She would not be likely to let her son go off to the wilds of his new manor without proper servants.
    Whoever had trained the women, Verony thought a moment later, had done the job well. Whereas she had always had to struggle against the servants' natural fear of her father and his men, and the general slovenliness the late Baron spread about him, these women showed neither timidity nor lack of skill.
    Within minutes the table was laid with a clean cloth, the room filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and herbed chicken, and soap and fresh towels were put out next to a basin of hot water. Hilda surveyed the results critically before brusquely dismissing the women. They stole a final glance at Verony as they hurried away.
    "They know what they're about here," the old nurse admitted grudgingly. "Had this place cleaned out and well stocked in no time." Wrapping a cloak around Verony's slender shoulders, she guided her to the table. "Now eat all of that," Hilda directed automatically. "The Lord knows you were never a big girl, but now you definitely need some weight put on you."
    Verony hardly heard her. She was too busy staring at the meal laid out on the table. After so many months of only the poorest food and little enough of that, it looked like a feast. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled in pleasant anticipation, but still Verony held back. The hardships she had shared with those who protected her were far too fresh for her to enjoy such unexpected bounty.
    As she had since the time Verony was a little child, Hilda seemed able to read her thoughts. Gently but firmly, she eased her into a chair. "Be sensible. There is no way for you to share this food, and you surely wish to regain your strength."
    Hilda was right, of course, but knowing that did not make the young girl feel any less guilty. Hesitantly, she picked up a sliver of chicken. It melted on her tongue, prompting her to take another. She ate silently, concentrating on the food as she had never before had reason to do. Watching the slender little figure huddled in the cloak from which only one small hand emerged, Hilda was hard pressed to keep from weeping. Relief at her lady's safety coupled with a sensible understanding of what she must have suffered in the last year made the old nurse tremble. To hide her discomfort, she busied herself by laying out clothes.
    By the time Verony had eaten all her shrunken stomach could hold, a complete outfit was spread over the bed. She stared at the soft linen chemise, blue silk tunic with bands of white satin, and the surcoat of white wool embroidered in gold. She had last worn those garments on her final visit to the royal court at London, just a few months before her father's death. The clothes, along with almost everything else she owned, had been left behind when she fled the keep. If she had thought about them at all in the intervening months, she would have presumed them looted or given away by the new lord. But instead there they were, freshly aired and pressed, waiting for her to don them.
    "Come, lovey," Hilda murmured, "we must get you ready."
    Numbed by a day already far too full of surprises,