Time to Love Again by Flora Speer

would show us a place where we won’t be in the way.”
    “It would be my greatest pleasure.” Hugo
wisely offered his arm to the nun rather than to Danise. With
surprising grace for a man so large, he led the ladies across the
now moving barge toward the port railing.
    “I will speak to you more strongly later,
Count Theuderic,” said Sister Gertrude. Over her head, Theuderic
smiled at India.
    “I am at your service, Sister Gertrude,” he
said with perfect manners.
    India watched the nun try to pull Danise’s
hood forward, but as soon as Sister Gertrude’s hand left the
fabric, Danise swept the hood off again. Then she smiled into
Hugo’s eyes.
    “Does Sister Gertrude really know your
mother?” India asked Theuderic.
    “It is entirely possible. She looks to be
about forty years, which is my mother’s age. My mother was schooled
at Chelles, so they might have been girls together. But my mother
is nothing like that nun, I assure you.”
    At the moment, the nun seemed to be concerned
by all the horses on board, watching them with a wary eye instead
of guarding her young charge. Standing at the railing, Hugo bent
his head toward Danise.
    “Hugo loves her,” India murmured.
    “Who, Sister Gertrude?” She was familiar
enough with Theuderic by now to be able to see the way he tried to
keep his mouth firm and hard, but the corner that always betrayed
his sense of humor turned upward in spite of his best efforts.
    “That would be a remarkable match,” said
India, trying not to laugh. “No, I mean Hugo and Danise. I saw it
happen. It was beautiful.”
    “Love is a foolish thing. It always ends in
grief.”
    Somehow she knew he did not speak only of
Hugo and Danise.
    “Theu.” She had never before called him by
the familiar nickname his men used so freely.
    “India.” He said her name in the slow,
accented way that always stopped her breath. His eyes held hers,
and in their silver-grey depths she saw the answer to the question
in her heart. Her throat closed, preventing any sound. Her breasts
tingled. Why, oh, why, would he not touch her? Why did he keep his
arms so stiffly at his sides instead of putting them around her?
She ached for some physical contact with him.
    “It’s madness.” At first she wasn’t sure
whether she had spoken or if he had, because the same thought lay
in her own mind. But it was Theuderic, with his firm sense of
reality, who guided her away from the paralyzing, overwhelming
desire that would have exposed them both to scandal. “We cannot
give way to feelings. See to Eudon’s comfort. Consider that an
order and leave me, please India, for at this moment I have not the
strength to leave you, and we are attracting Sister Gertrude’s
notice.”
    “Yes, sir.” It was fearfully hard to break
contact with his eyes, but she did. Bowing her head, she went to
Eudon, and at his side she stayed until they reached the western
bank of the Rhine. By then it was mid-morning, and the sunny sky
had been replaced by rolling clouds. India was glad to leave the
dampness of the river for Eudon’s sake as well as for her own.
    “We will need to rest here for several
hours,” Sister Gertrude said to Theuderic as soon as they were all
ashore at Köln, “to recuperate from the rigors of the
crossing.”
    “Sister, if I may suggest,” said Theuderic,
all politeness, “there is a guesthouse but a few hours’ ride from
here, where I plan to spend the night. If we leave at once, we can
easily be there before dark and, I believe, without tiring you or
the lady Danise too badly.”
    “The lady Danise’s health will not permit an
immediate departure.” Sister Gertrude was adamant.
    “But I am perfectly well,” Danise declared,
laughing at the nun’s concern. “I want to ride on. Besides, those
clouds will bring rain soon. Perhaps we can reach the guesthouse
before the weather breaks.”
    “I believe it will snow,” Theuderic said to
her, “but you are quite correct about reaching the