The Shadow of Albion by Andre Norton, Rosemary Edghill Page A

stared at her, his amber gaze fervent with mysterious meaning. „I warn you,
    should you regret your bargain, you will not find it as easy to unmake.“
     
    This was the second time he had mentioned a bargain, and Sarah still did not have
    the slightest idea of what he meant. She shrugged. „No bargain is easy to unmake,
    Doctor.“
     
    „Then on your own head be it,“ Dr. Falconer pronounced, as if he were judge,
    not physician. Gathering up his tools into their bag, he walked quickly from the
    room.
     
    There. Now I have offended him, and I am sure I do not know how. But it
    would be better, perhaps, if he worried over offending me….
     
    The alien thoughts lay on the surface of her mind like smooth stones, and as she
    turned them over in her thoughts Sarah slowly became aware that Knoyle, the abigail,
    was chattering away, offering Sarah unfamiliar garments for her approval.
     
    Knoyle knew her. And Knoyle was her personal maid Why did she not know
    Knoyle?
     
    „ – and I may say, my lady, that the Duke is quite tolerably featured,, for all he do
    go on glaring at one so!“
     
    „He quite surprised me,“ Sarah said cautiously.
     
    „Bursting in on Your Ladyship in that savage fashion!“ Knoyle said
    disapprovingly. „What would his grandmother – who is your godmother as well –
    think of such behavior?“ Apparently Sarah need not make any reply to this, for
    Knoyle sniffed critically and went on with her monologue. „And for all that your dear
    papa betrothed the two of you when you were born, such license – “
     
    „I am to marry this Duke?“ Sarah blurted, horrified.
     
    „Your Ladyship must marry someone,“ Gardner pointed out imperturbably, „and
    the dukedom’s lands march with your own. What could be more suitable?“
     
    A stormy knot of rebellion formed within Sarah’s bosom even as Knoyle pulled
    her corset-lacings tight. Though all else seemed oddly vague, she was quite certain
    she had never agreed to marry the Duke of Wessex.
     
    But wait… Knoyle had spoken of a childhood betrothal. Perhaps the engagement
    was not so irrevocable as it had first sounded?
     
    Knoyle left the room for a moment – Sarah could hear a whispered conversation
    with the maid whose job it was to take care of Lady Roxbury’s clothing, and not her
     

 
    person. She turned to the nurse, who was coming forward with a shawl to place
    about Sarah’s shoulders as she stood waiting in her stockings and petticoats, though
    with the fire on the hearth the room was already quite unseasonably warm.
     
    „Oh, pray do not cosset me so, Gardner,“ Sarah protested. „I am far too old for
    that.“
     
    „You shall never be aught but the veriest babe to me,“ Gardner told her firmly.
    „T’was I who took you from the midwife’s arms. Your dear mama would have no
    one save me to attend her – though there were some as said I was past my prime,“
    she added darkly.
     
    Sarah searched the old woman’s face for veracity, suppressing a pang of despair
    when she found it easily. How could all those around her know her so well and she
    not know them at all?
     
    „Here you are, my lady. In the first stare of fashion it is, and just such a gown as
    will put roses in your cheeks.“
     
    Sarah stared at the primrose-yellow gown of printed muslin that Knoyle held
    proudly over one arm. The neckline and the tiny puffed sleeves were threaded with
    bits of green ribbon, and knots of tiny floss roses trimmed the flounced hem and
    demi-train.
     
    „Oh, how beautiful!“ Sarah said. And beautiful it was, like a bird or a flower;
    purely ornamental and not at all for use.
     
    Unresisting, Sarah allowed Knoyle to dress her and arrange her hair in a simple
    style, and Gardner to drape the cashmire shawl about her shoulders. When they were
    finished, a stranger stared back at Sarah from the cheval-glass, a stranger with
    high-piled hair and an immodest expanse of skin exposed by the fashionable gown;
    someone