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understand.”
    â€œI suppose I do.” Her head understood, but her heart simply would not be convinced.
    â€œFarewell, Rosalind.”
    â€œFarewell, Sir Hugh.”
    As he backed away a sad little sigh escaped her mouth. She pressed her hand against it.
    With one last hungry look, he strode down the hall.
    Rosalind attempted to quiet her raspy breathing and still the rapid pounding of her heart, both familiar consequences of kissing Hugh in shadowy corners. She knew that Hugh couldnever be hers, but she had not expected to talk with him for hours upon end about nothing in particular and to be happy just to hold his hand while watching the clouds roll overhead. Though she could no sooner deny Hugh’s impish grins and kisses than she could stop the sun from turning about the earth, she had tried to hold back a part of herself.
    â€™Twas for the best that he was leaving. She must keep telling herself that. She could not afford to displease the baron. Though Rosalind’s own father had once been a reasonably prosperous miller, after his death her family had been left in the most terrible position. Rosalind’s income had put them back on a steady path. Her mother and younger siblings still depended upon her for their daily bread.
    She could not let them down.
    After a few moments she managed to gather herself and went in search of her mistress. As she passed by the great hall she noted that Lord and Lady Barnes had already come inside. Rosalind continued through the grand front portal and found Lady Gwendolyn standing forlornly in the courtyard, waving to Hugh’s back as he headed down the lane with a small retinue.
    Through the shimmer of unshed tears, Rosalind watched her first love depart, but it simply would not do to let Gwendolyn see her crying over her noble brother.
    She slipped quietly next to her mistress. As Hugh rounded the corner and disappeared into the rustling green trees, she reminded herself that he was meant to be the first of many men in her life. There would be plenty of love in her future, and she would find a way to endure this parting.
    However Gwendolyn, despite her brave stance, appeared upon the verge of shattering. Rosalind had spent the last hour dissuading her from dressing up as a squire and following Sir Hugh, for she would be found out and sent back before thesun set. But she understood Gwendolyn’s distress. Hugh and Gerald had always protected her from the harsher realities of life, and now both were gone, leaving her alone to face the father she dreaded.
    Rosalind placed a gentle hand upon Gwendolyn’s shoulder. “Come, m’lady. We shan’t do any good standing here all day.”
    They linked arms and leaned upon one another for support as they trudged through the courtyard.
    â€œUgh! I am being such a girl. Enough of these blasted tears.” Gwendolyn pressed thumb and forefinger against her eyes. “They will do me no more good than staring at an empty lane.”
    Despite her heavy heart, Rosalind determined to lighten the moment. “You are right, my lady. Besides which, you look like a swine with the pox when you cry.”
    â€œOh, shut up,” Gwendolyn said, but she gave Rosalind a shove and began to chuckle just as she had hoped.
    Rosalind pasted a false smile upon her face. “We must appear pleasant for your father. I do hope to please him.”
    â€œNo one pleases Father. The best you can wish for is anonymity.”
    Rosalind sucked in a sharp breath. The servants had been telling her horror stories of Lord Barnes ever since she arrived, but she had assumed them to be exaggerated. Gwendolyn rarely spoke of the man, but when she did an edge of fear tinged her voice, which Rosalind would not have thought possible in her mistress had she not heard it with her own ears. “Perhaps now that the war is over, he might be in a better mood.”
    â€œFather creates his own wars.”
    As they made their way up the