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in an absolute riot of curls atop her head. Her eyes were a clear light blue and her face was shaped like a perfect heart. She was adorable without quite being a beauty.
    Margaret continued, “Henry is like the knights of old this morning, on a crusade as it were, he is that intent on our leaving. Would ye be knowing why?”
    Judith now understood that Margaret must have somehow learned what had happened on the evening prior. She began to suspect that Henry had seen her with Kelthorne. “Aye,” Judith responded.
    When the shouting increased, both ladies stopped to listen, afterward sighing heavily together. Henry was proclaiming in his actor’s voice the absolute necessity of leaving immediately while Charles continued to pontificate equally as loudly on the harm such a move would do to the troupe.
    “I imagine by now Charlie is pacing to and fro.”
    “Aye,” Margaret said, nodding, “and throwing his arms this way an’ that as though he’s speaking The Bard’s words and not his own.”
    Judith sat down carefully on her bed. Although four posts supported the narrow low frame, the corner at the foot of the bed was weak and tended to collapse without warning. “Poor Charlie,” Judith said. “He will not be content until he is roaring like a lion on the London stages.”
    “Ye can scarce blame him.”
    “No, of course not, but I do grow weary of hearing of his ambitions.”
    “We all do. O’ course, this morning he has reason to be upset. Do ye not think so?”
    She met Margaret's gaze. “What is it you know?” she asked forthrightly.
    Margaret grimaced. “Oh, Judy, is it true? Did ye kiss Kelthorne last night in the orchard?”
    Judith closed her eyes. “I fear it is so.”
    Margaret gasped. “I had no reason to doubt Henry, o’ course, but I was that shocked, I was.”
    “He did see us then? And he told you?”
    “Aye.”
    “I should have never gone to the orchard. I would wish that stupid dare undone a thousand times. How can I to be so foolish?”
    “I canna say,” she responded. “Only how did it happen that ye let Kelthorne kiss ye? ‘Tis not like ye.”
    “He caught me stealing his apples and once he discovered that I was a young woman, he demanded a kiss before he would release me. I struggled for a very long time but he is quite strong. In the end, there was nothing for it. So, I permitted the kiss, or, rather, he took it. He would not have released me otherwise.”
    Margaret stared at her, a frown pinching her brow. “And ye were aware ‘twas Kelthorne ye were kissing?”
    “Aye” Judith returned. “He spoke of the apples as his and then I guessed at his name. He had no reason to deny who he was and I had no reason to doubt him particularly since there was something so commanding in his address.”
    Margaret shook her head. “All these years, we was so careful to take care of ye... so many blackguards wat called themselves gentl’men all ready to, well, to not serve ye a good turn as well ye know. Wat? Wat is it? Wat be ye thinking?” She gasped. “Judy, why be ye smiling in that odd way?”
    Judith had no desire at all to reveal her thoughts for she had suddenly recalled in brilliant detail all the little whisper-kisses of the night before. Her cheeks grew quite warm. “Nothing to signify,” she said hastily.
    “What a whisker—fer yer eyes are as bright as one of Mrs. Marnhull’s copper pots, all polished and gleaming. La, don’t tell me that ye’ve taken a fancy to an earl.”
    Judith put her hands on her cheeks as though by doing so she might cool them. “No, of course not. It is just that, well, I had never been kissed before and I had no notion that a man would…” She could not finish her thoughts.
    “Wat?”
    “Well,” Judith said quietly, grateful for someone to confide in, “as it happens, he blew these little puffs of air against my cheeks and... and elsewhere... and, indeed, I did not know what he was about. Then he kissed me. Is that how it is usually