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his eyes, he cupped her face in strong hands and kissed her on both cheeks.
    “I love you, my child. I have had the privilege to watch you grow into the woman you are today. I know you carry much love and goodness inside of you for all, except this one man. I will pray for you, pray you are relieved of this dreadful burden you carry in your soul.”
    “Thank you, Father. I am sorry if I’ve distressed you. You’ve given me so much since I came here to live. Perhaps someday I’ll be deserving of your love and kindness.” She kissed his weathered, aging cheek and left the secluded garden. She walked down the road to her house.
    Her spirits lifted as she thought of the ride to Windsong. Blackstar would be as anxious as she for the run. She passed through the front gate and paused to pluck a rose from a nearby bush before entering the three-room cottage. The main room was the kitchen, with its large stone fireplace along one wall and a rough wooden table in the center. A worn cupboard, several old chairs, and a couple of sunny windows with shutters completed their main living area. Jake and Jenny’s room was at the back of the cozy home and a broad-stepped ladder led up to Rina’s attic space.
    The smell of yeast drifted on the air as Rina entered. She found Jenny elbow deep in bread dough. She smiled as she crossed the room, tucked the red rosebud into her grayed hair and gave her a hug.
    “Hello, luv. You shouldna’ be wastin’ those pretty flowers on an old woman like me.” Jenny’s protest was short-lived as she touched the rose appreciatively, a wide grin splitting her wrinkled face. “If you’re still wantin’ t’ ride o’er an’ see Lord Roberts, you’d best be gettin’ so as t’ be home for our Sunday meal.”
    “Yes, I’ll hurry. Make sure that scoundrel husband of yours doesn’t eat all the bread before I get back.”
    “I heard Lord Roberts’ oldest grandson, Blake, is comin’ home. I also heard he’s a devilishly good-lookin’ man,” cackled Jenny with a wink and a gentle nudge in her side with an elbow. “You’re not gettin’ any younger, girl. You’d best be thinkin’ of gettin’ yourself a man an’ marryin’ or you’re goin’ t’ end up an old maid.”
    Rina raised an eyebrow in amusement, her voice quite serious as she teased. “What-on-earth would a nobleman like Blake Roberts want with a mere commoner like me?”
    “Fie. Commoner, indeed. You’re Lady Katrina Easton, a lady of fine breedin’ an’ don’t you be forgettin’ it. You’re every bit as good as he is,” scolded the older woman, ruffled at the thought of her Rina not being good enough for any man.
    “But he wouldn’t know that, would he, Jenny? I would love to stay and argue with you, but I have to go or I’ll be late getting back. So no more talk of marriage.” Rina dashed up the ladder to change and ended the conversation.
    She shucked the hot brown dress, glad to be rid of it, and pulled on a pair of worn breeches, a soft cotton shirt, and scuffed, black boots. She pulled the pins from her hair, and unwound the long, braid from its neat coil, leaving it to hang loose down her back. Anxious, Rina climbed down and started for the door; Jenny’s gasp of annoyance stopped her.
    “Lordy, you aren’t goin’ t’ visit Sir Roberts lookin’ like that are you? I’ve told you it isn’t decent for a woman t’ wear men’s breeches. What am I goin’ t’ do with you?” Jenny clucked and threw her hands up in dismay, a cloud of flour drifting to the floor.
    “Jenny, he has seen me in breeches before. Besides, it’s so much easier to ride this way. Would you have me hiking my dress up around my waist to sit astride Blackstar?” Rina’s face remained sober, an innocent look carefully played on her features. She could no longer still the giggle at Jenny’s shocked face, her mischief getting results.
    “A lady does not ride astride.” Indignant, Jenny started pounding the mound of dough in front