Rebellious Love Read Free Page B

Verony did not even think to ask what she was being prepared for. It was a very subdued girl who allowed the old nurse to stand her in the center of the room near a lighted brazier whose heat dispelled the chill. Stripped of the stained, torn cloak and bedraggled tunic, she was gently washed clean.
    Hilda winced as she saw the bruises inflicted by the knights and the other evidence of her young mistress' suffering, but she said nothing. When Verony was scrubbed and lightly perfumed with the scent of jasmine, Hilda wrapped her in a soft blanket before sitting her on a bench beside the bed. There she brushed the waist-length tresses until they shone like burnished copper in the fading light.
    The linen chemise fell softly against Verony's skin, followed by the graceful tunic with long, tight sleeves buttoned from elbow to wrist. The sleeveless surcoat had a slight train, the weight of which pulled the fabric back far enough to reveal soft, pointed shoes of creamy leather. Intricately carved gold brooches that had belonged to Verony's mother were set at her shoulders, and a belt woven of golden strands tightly girded her small waist.
    Her hair was left uncovered. Once she would have adorned it with a transparent veil held in place by a jeweled chaplet. But that was a symbol of rank she no longer felt able to wear. Hilda's efforts to persuade her otherwise had no effect. The old nurse gave up reluctantly, only after assuring herself that licr charge looked every inch the lady even without further ornament.
    The weariness and fear stilt all too evident in the young girl's eyes convinced Hilda not to argue further. "You are truly beautiful," she assured her gently. "Of course, you always were."
    Verony smiled faintly, touched by her nurse's loyalty. If Hilda had been nearby the year before, when word came that the Baron de Langford was dead and his lands seized by the crown, she would undoubtedly have insisted on accompanying Verony.
    Courage Hilda had aplenty, but the rigors of the forest would certainly have been too much for her. Verony offered a silent prayer of thanks that her old nurse had survived. Whatever happened, she was grateful for this time with the woman who was as much her mother as the lady who had died giving her birth.
    Recalled to herself by a sudden, sharp rap at the door, Hilda went swiftly to open it. Two men-at-arms stood in the corridor. Almost as tall and broad as their lord, the knights wore chain mail and carried longs words buckled at their sides. Their faces were grim as they surveyed the women.
    "He wants her now," one informed Hilda gruffly.
    Verony paled. So the brief interlude of comfort and care was over. She swallowed with difficulty, turning away to keep the old nurse from seeing how her shoulders trembled. Only long practice in discipline and courage enabled her to walk silently from the room.
    Perhaps because she so desperately needed some distraction from her fear, Verony allowed her curiosity free rein as she walked through what had once been her home. She could see few changes, but that in itself was telling. The second-story gallery looking down on the Center Hall was swept clean and sweetly perfumed with fresh rushes. The torches set at regular intervals burned brightly without excessive smoke. The air above the hall was clear enough to indicate that the main chimney was being regularly swept.
    To someone raised in the household of a lady of accomplishment such as Emelie d'Arcy, such amenities would be taken for granted. But Verony had been forced to battle filth and disorder to achieve even the smallest victories. She was glad to see that the household she had so laboriously raised to a proper standard was being well maintained.
    Nor did the condition of the servants escape her notice. All were clean and well dressed, industriously occupied and seemingly adept at their various tasks. Some she recognized and of those a few were brave enough to discreetly nod or even dare a small smile.