Emeline: A Gisborne Tale

Chapter Two

Back at Locksley Manor, Rose was still sitting with Lady Emeline as she slept. She had given her a draught of the medicine Abdullah had left behind, and it made the lady sleep. Rose got up from the chair and went down to make sure the chores were getting done.

In the large, tiled kitchen, where the evening meal was in preparation, the younger maids were chatting endlessly about the Lady Emeline and why they believed Sir Guy had come to her aid.

"Maybe 'e wants 'er for 'imself," said Mary, a
spiteful gleam in her eye.

"Are ya still at it, Mary?" Rose came into the kitchen, her eyes blazing at the implications of their chatter. "All of ya get back, t' work this instant! When the master returns, if his supper is not ready and the manor is in a mess, ye'll hae hell t' pay!"

"You mean you'll 'ave 'ell ta pay," Mary said, under her breath. But the older woman heard her.

"And if I get it from him, ye'll get it from me, Mary Williams! Dinnae ye remember that switch ya cut from the apple tree the last time?"
"Yes, marm," Mary said, sufficiently subdued for the moment. She resumed her chores.

Just as the sun was setting, Rose heard the sound of horse's hooves. The master had returned. She inspected the manor one last time to be sure everything was in order; and satisfied that it was, she began to relax. She watched Pembleton as he met the master at the door. He took Guy's sword belt and handed him a goblet of wine.

As Guy took the goblet, he inquired of Rose, "How is our guest faring, Rose?" His tone was not his usual snarl, but concerned and courteous.

"M'lord, she's been sleeping these past few hours." replied Rose, humbly. "Ah'm sure she would welcome a visit from ye," she added, assuming that was why he asked.

"You think so?" Guy asked, flatly.

"Aye, m'lord. She would probably want to thank ye properly fer comin' to her aid."

Guy stared straight ahead. "I'll go look in on her." He swiftly removed himself from his chair and climbed the stairs to his bedchamber where Lady Emeline lay sleeping. Peering tentatively through the doorway, Guy could see his charge propped up on pillows but with her eyes closed. He furrowed his brows as she shifted position and woke with a start.

"Pray pardon, my lady," Guy said softly. "I did not mean to waken you."

"Nae, my lord. You did not," Emeline said, with some effort. "I was disturbed by the pain in my shoulder. Please come in and sit down."

Guy sat in the chair Rose had left at the bedside. "I suppose I shouldn't be so silly about a sore arm, but it does seem to hurt more than I have experienced before."

"Your shoulder was out of place, my lady," Guy said in a throaty voice. "Even men are aggrieved by such an injury."

"Then I have no fear that my father would call me weak... though now he is gone, I would only wish that he would say those words to me."

Tears fell slowly from her eyes. Guy did not know how to deal with such things as women crying. In fact, it never occurred to him that the men he dispatched in the name of the prince regent and, as the sheriff's man, had family that might mourn them. He had steeled his natural reactions to sorrow in a secret place in his mind, never to be disturbed. The revealing thought made him uncomfortable. He shifted somewhat nervously in the chair and handed Emeline a cloth from the bedside table with which to dry her eyes.

Clearing his throat, Guy began, "What of this man you are to wed? Would he not come for you if he were to know where to find you?"

Emeline breathed a great sigh. "I think not, Sir Guy. He was expecting a dowry, but that was stolen alongside my father's fortune, and now I am nothing more significant than a peasant."