The Rose at Twilight Read Online Free PDF Page A

welled into her eyes. She turned away, trying unsuccessfully to stifle the sudden gusting sobs that threatened to overwhelm her.
    Jonet moved swiftly to her side and put a strong arm around her, hugging her but giving her an admonitory shake at the same time. “Lassie, do not,” she said in the same way she had spoken when Alys was small. “’Twill do thee no good to weep. She’s been gone these five months and more, and ’tis as well that she has, for had she lived to hear how the villains desecrated his noble grace’s blessed body after they murdered him, she’d ha’ been wracked asunder by the shame of it. Thinkst tha’ of that now, and dry thy tears. ’Tis naught but selfishness to dwell upon thine own grief.”
    Hiccoughing in her attempt to regain control of herself, Alys turned and laid her head upon Jonet’s plump bosom, letting herself be held like a child. At last her sobs eased in their intensity and she straightened, brushing tangled hair from her tear-streaked face with the back of her fist, and said, “I have been wicked to think only of myself. You are right to remind me of what her pain would be. God in His mercy took her before she might suffer, and here am I, wishing she were with us yet.”
    “Let be now,” Jonet said gently. “Sit tha’ down on yonder stool, and let old Jonet do what she may to dry thy hair before thy bath be prepared.”
    Alys’s hair was long, and because of her hood she had worn it unconfined by any other headdress. Once freed from the folds of the hood, it fell in damp curls to her waist, and as soon as the first of their coffers had been carried into the tent, Jonet unearthed a rough towel and began to rub. Despite her efforts, however, long before the tub had arrived and men began carrying buckets of hot water in to fill it, Alys was chilled to her bones. The water cooled rapidly, sending clouds of steam into the air, so as soon as there was barely enough for their purpose, Jonet told the men to leave the last two buckets and go. Then, rolling up her sleeves, she ordered her charge into the tub.
    Quickly doffing her damp clothing, Alys moved to obey. The water felt much too hot for her chilled toes, however, and after dipping one foot into the tub, she jerked it out again with a cry of alarm. But Jonet was having none of that.
    “Get thee in,” she said, still speaking as though Alys were yet a child. “’Tis only that thy feet be cold. Sithee, if tha’ waits till it be cooler to thy toes, ’twill be cold to the rest of thy body, so tha’ must be wick.”
    Moments later, her hair twisted in a heavy knot atop her drooping head, Alys sat hunched forward in the tub while Jonet poured more hot water over her shoulders and scrubbed her back with a rough sponge that soon gave her skin a rosy glow. The soap was perfumed with attar of lilacs, and the scent, mixed with that of the herbs in the water, quickly filled the tent.
    When Merion entered, a heavy dark cloak draped over his arm, he paused at the entrance to inhale deeply before saying, “I came to bring this cloak and to see that all is well, my lady, but I believe I shall stay to savor the delights of your scent.”
    At the sound of his voice, Alys’s head snapped up and she gave a gasp of dismay, swiftly covering her firm, rosy-tipped breasts with her arms. When Sir Nicholas’s look of pleasure turned to puzzlement, she said with careful dignity, “I am not accustomed to entertaining gentlemen while I bathe, sir.”
    “But surely ’tis as much the custom in England as in Wales for all members of a household to bathe together,” he said, still gazing at her and clearly deriving his pleasure now from more than attar of lilacs. “Has my informant misled me, mistress?”
    “No,” she admitted, pressing her arms more tightly across her breasts. “Such is indeed common practice in most houses, sir, but I was raised in the household of the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, where I was permitted more privacy.