fell gracefully about her shoulders as she served hot spiced drinks to the travellers.
Marcelle was called to put warming pans in the beds and fair rosy Ruth, the dairy maid, was hustled from her bed to help in the kitchen. In less than no time, hot soup and braised chicken in wine with various other delicacies were served.
Annabelle’s eyes were very bright as she flitted and fluttered about. For she had recognized Prince Henry, the royal lover of her young mistress in those days at Audley House where both she and Abe had been servants. With his heavy lidded eyes and sunken cheeks, the young prince looked very ill, but Annabelle did not comment. She dared not let anyone else in the house know that they were entertaining the Crown Prince of England.
To Marcelle they were just another lot of guests who had come in late, not an uncommon occurrence at this inn, so she just went about her work helping Ruth in the kitchen. The other two male guests seemed to have cheered up a bit, now that the younger one was asleep. They had gently got their young master to bed and now they sat in the next room talking and drinking. The bearded one seemed to be quite upset and he drank some evil-smelling wine that he took from a flask he carried with him.
As Marcelle and Ruth cleared the dishes, the young Lord Hay looked at the golden-haired maid appreciatively as he remembered the sweetness of her lips earlier that afternoon.
With her eyes lowered modestly, Ruth demurely carried the tray from the room. She did not dare look at his lordship while Annabelle was present.
‘Och mon, I am right tuckered oot maself. Been riding since this morning.’ David Murray stretched and yawned.
‘Get to your bed, then. I’ll ride back to camp,’ said Lord Hay, still eyeing Ruth.
‘Mon, I daren’t. He might wake in the night, and he’ll be terribly scared.’
Lord Hay looked at him with disbelief.
‘Aye,’ returned David. ‘It’s these terrible nightmares he has. Goes walking off in his sleep. I have brought him in many times from the grounds in the middle of the night.’
‘Poor devil, his mind must be going,’ said Lord Hay, shaking his head sympathetically.
‘Nay, it’s his nerves. But it will go, all he needs is a mate.’
As David spoke it was obvious that he was exhausted. His head nodded and his eyes were almost closed.
‘Come on David, old lad. Get off to bed. I’ll guard your baby.’ Lord Hay had a kindly way about him, so David Murray gave in and went to bed while the younger man sat by the fire to guard the royal guest. But as Lord Hay sat back in his seat, in his mind’s eye was a vision of golden-haired Ruth with her pearl-like teeth and cheeks like rosy apples ready for picking. The more he stared into the fire, the more vivid this vision became. He fidgeted uncomfortably; it was going to be a long night. ‘Oh, to hell with the royal baby,’ he decided finally, when the temptation became too great for him.
Down in the kitchen Annabelle had just finished clearing up. ‘Well, that’s over,’ she said. ‘Now we can all retire for the night.’
Abe took a candle and lit up the path for Ruth to guide her to her sleeping quarters which she shared with the other dairy maids. The heavy front door closed with a click, and as Ruth skipped merrily through the orchard, a tall slim shape climbed down the ivy and a voice whispered: ‘Don’t go, darling, let me kiss you goodnight.’
Ruth was not afraid. She had half-expected his Lordship to be there, for she had a way with men and had had plenty of experience. So, with an attractive little giggle, she raced straight towards the barn with the young Lord Hay following her like a whippet.
Marcelle could not sleep. For hours she lay restless, tossing and turning from side to side. Unlike Ruth, whose instinct it was to give way to the urge of nature, Marcelle had no understanding of why the sight of the young men disturbed her sleep. The young visitor she had seen had been
Marcelle was called to put warming pans in the beds and fair rosy Ruth, the dairy maid, was hustled from her bed to help in the kitchen. In less than no time, hot soup and braised chicken in wine with various other delicacies were served.
Annabelle’s eyes were very bright as she flitted and fluttered about. For she had recognized Prince Henry, the royal lover of her young mistress in those days at Audley House where both she and Abe had been servants. With his heavy lidded eyes and sunken cheeks, the young prince looked very ill, but Annabelle did not comment. She dared not let anyone else in the house know that they were entertaining the Crown Prince of England.
To Marcelle they were just another lot of guests who had come in late, not an uncommon occurrence at this inn, so she just went about her work helping Ruth in the kitchen. The other two male guests seemed to have cheered up a bit, now that the younger one was asleep. They had gently got their young master to bed and now they sat in the next room talking and drinking. The bearded one seemed to be quite upset and he drank some evil-smelling wine that he took from a flask he carried with him.
As Marcelle and Ruth cleared the dishes, the young Lord Hay looked at the golden-haired maid appreciatively as he remembered the sweetness of her lips earlier that afternoon.
With her eyes lowered modestly, Ruth demurely carried the tray from the room. She did not dare look at his lordship while Annabelle was present.
‘Och mon, I am right tuckered oot maself. Been riding since this morning.’ David Murray stretched and yawned.
‘Get to your bed, then. I’ll ride back to camp,’ said Lord Hay, still eyeing Ruth.
‘Mon, I daren’t. He might wake in the night, and he’ll be terribly scared.’
Lord Hay looked at him with disbelief.
‘Aye,’ returned David. ‘It’s these terrible nightmares he has. Goes walking off in his sleep. I have brought him in many times from the grounds in the middle of the night.’
‘Poor devil, his mind must be going,’ said Lord Hay, shaking his head sympathetically.
‘Nay, it’s his nerves. But it will go, all he needs is a mate.’
As David spoke it was obvious that he was exhausted. His head nodded and his eyes were almost closed.
‘Come on David, old lad. Get off to bed. I’ll guard your baby.’ Lord Hay had a kindly way about him, so David Murray gave in and went to bed while the younger man sat by the fire to guard the royal guest. But as Lord Hay sat back in his seat, in his mind’s eye was a vision of golden-haired Ruth with her pearl-like teeth and cheeks like rosy apples ready for picking. The more he stared into the fire, the more vivid this vision became. He fidgeted uncomfortably; it was going to be a long night. ‘Oh, to hell with the royal baby,’ he decided finally, when the temptation became too great for him.
Down in the kitchen Annabelle had just finished clearing up. ‘Well, that’s over,’ she said. ‘Now we can all retire for the night.’
Abe took a candle and lit up the path for Ruth to guide her to her sleeping quarters which she shared with the other dairy maids. The heavy front door closed with a click, and as Ruth skipped merrily through the orchard, a tall slim shape climbed down the ivy and a voice whispered: ‘Don’t go, darling, let me kiss you goodnight.’
Ruth was not afraid. She had half-expected his Lordship to be there, for she had a way with men and had had plenty of experience. So, with an attractive little giggle, she raced straight towards the barn with the young Lord Hay following her like a whippet.
Marcelle could not sleep. For hours she lay restless, tossing and turning from side to side. Unlike Ruth, whose instinct it was to give way to the urge of nature, Marcelle had no understanding of why the sight of the young men disturbed her sleep. The young visitor she had seen had been