himself the large grey cat ensconced in the hay. Five tiny kittens, barely covered with fur, and eyes still shut, nursed whilst the mother watched Bernard crouching next to her.
“They were born only today, and I came to see how they fared,” the woman spoke, still standing behind him, now with the height advantage. “Cleome—’tis the cat’s name—had a foot injured by one of the dogs, and ’twas only because Leonard, the stable boy, intervened that she lived to deliver this litter.”
Bernard reached to pet the mother cat. The woman warned him—“Nay, she will scratch!”—but became silent when she saw Cleome’s eyes barely flicker as Bernard traced a large finger over the top of her pointed head and down to rub her side.
“’Tis a miracle,” she murmured, watching as his hand traced the thick fur down to Cleome’s tail again and again. His hand was so wide and brown that it nearly covered the cat’s entire abdomen, and she watched with mingled fear and fascination as such a powerful appendage was used so gently.
I should be afraid , Joanna realized dimly, of this great man whose presence had filled the doorway. But she was not, and that was in itself a unique experience. Instead, she sat quietly on a stool Leonard had put in the corner and watched as he stroked the cat in silence, thanking the Virgin that she’d already covered the parcel in the corner with straw.
She glanced briefly toward the shadowed corner to reassure herself that it would not be noticed, then returned her attention to the countenance of the man, noting the tight, dark curls that covered his head in an unfashionably short style. His face was lean and sober, with deep-set eyes that had held no challenge when he’d greeted her earlier. The tan of his hand was echoed in the color of his face, and the wiriness of his dark hair in the short-clipped beard and moustache he wore.
“You have a gift,” she said at last, breaking what had become an easy silence.
He nodded once, turning a glance toward her that lingered over her face. “Aye. ’Tis my blessing that animals find no fear of me. My father—”
He was interrupted by the sound of someone approaching, and Joanna stood with a sudden fear clutching her middle, unable to keep a small gasp from her throat. God and the Virgin help her if she were discovered alone with such a man.
It was Leonard this time, thank Mary, and the discomfort in her stomach eased. But she must return to the keep now, for she’d been away too long and did not want to be missed.
Now ignoring the giant man, who watched her as she spoke to the stable boy, she told him to keep watch of the litter and where to move them should aught disturb the mother and her kittens. Then, with a quick glance at the giant, she dropped the slightest of curtseys and began to take her leave.
“My lady, allow me to escort you to your destination,” he offered, extending his arm.
“ Nay! ” Joanna took a breath and continued, “Nay, sir, but I must not be seen with—not be seen with anyone. I can find my way without assistance.” She bent to gather her light cloak and, doing so, noticed that one of her braids had fallen from its mooring. Joanna bit her lip and reached behind to re-fasten the recalcitrant braid, knowing that if she returned to the hall and it was noticed, she would be the worse for it.
The giant stepped toward her, behind her, towering over her small frame as she attempted to twist her arms in the most awkward position.
“ Allow me, my lady.” His smooth voice, warm and deep, seemed to slide over her like a fur cloak. Her heart pounding, Joanna forced herself to remain still as his warm, deft fingers relieved her own of the rope of hair. In a trice, he had found its place and secured it with one of the jeweled pins her maid had used earlier. Then, mercifully, he moved away.
“Th-thank you, sir.” She hated that her voice quavered, but
“They were born only today, and I came to see how they fared,” the woman spoke, still standing behind him, now with the height advantage. “Cleome—’tis the cat’s name—had a foot injured by one of the dogs, and ’twas only because Leonard, the stable boy, intervened that she lived to deliver this litter.”
Bernard reached to pet the mother cat. The woman warned him—“Nay, she will scratch!”—but became silent when she saw Cleome’s eyes barely flicker as Bernard traced a large finger over the top of her pointed head and down to rub her side.
“’Tis a miracle,” she murmured, watching as his hand traced the thick fur down to Cleome’s tail again and again. His hand was so wide and brown that it nearly covered the cat’s entire abdomen, and she watched with mingled fear and fascination as such a powerful appendage was used so gently.
I should be afraid , Joanna realized dimly, of this great man whose presence had filled the doorway. But she was not, and that was in itself a unique experience. Instead, she sat quietly on a stool Leonard had put in the corner and watched as he stroked the cat in silence, thanking the Virgin that she’d already covered the parcel in the corner with straw.
She glanced briefly toward the shadowed corner to reassure herself that it would not be noticed, then returned her attention to the countenance of the man, noting the tight, dark curls that covered his head in an unfashionably short style. His face was lean and sober, with deep-set eyes that had held no challenge when he’d greeted her earlier. The tan of his hand was echoed in the color of his face, and the wiriness of his dark hair in the short-clipped beard and moustache he wore.
“You have a gift,” she said at last, breaking what had become an easy silence.
He nodded once, turning a glance toward her that lingered over her face. “Aye. ’Tis my blessing that animals find no fear of me. My father—”
He was interrupted by the sound of someone approaching, and Joanna stood with a sudden fear clutching her middle, unable to keep a small gasp from her throat. God and the Virgin help her if she were discovered alone with such a man.
It was Leonard this time, thank Mary, and the discomfort in her stomach eased. But she must return to the keep now, for she’d been away too long and did not want to be missed.
Now ignoring the giant man, who watched her as she spoke to the stable boy, she told him to keep watch of the litter and where to move them should aught disturb the mother and her kittens. Then, with a quick glance at the giant, she dropped the slightest of curtseys and began to take her leave.
“My lady, allow me to escort you to your destination,” he offered, extending his arm.
“ Nay! ” Joanna took a breath and continued, “Nay, sir, but I must not be seen with—not be seen with anyone. I can find my way without assistance.” She bent to gather her light cloak and, doing so, noticed that one of her braids had fallen from its mooring. Joanna bit her lip and reached behind to re-fasten the recalcitrant braid, knowing that if she returned to the hall and it was noticed, she would be the worse for it.
The giant stepped toward her, behind her, towering over her small frame as she attempted to twist her arms in the most awkward position.
“ Allow me, my lady.” His smooth voice, warm and deep, seemed to slide over her like a fur cloak. Her heart pounding, Joanna forced herself to remain still as his warm, deft fingers relieved her own of the rope of hair. In a trice, he had found its place and secured it with one of the jeweled pins her maid had used earlier. Then, mercifully, he moved away.
“Th-thank you, sir.” She hated that her voice quavered, but
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