“Aye, he comes from Spain, and the king brought him to lecture at his college,” Adam explained.
“A Jew?” Maybel queried.
“A Mussulman,” Tom answered her, grinning. “An infidel, Maybel.”
“God have mercy on us all,” the old woman said, crossing herself. “Are you absolutely certain he is not out to murder the earl?”
To Maybel’s consternation, both men laughed. “Nay,” they told her with one voice.
“He is the king’s most trusted man, Maybel. I swear it,” Tom said.
“Well,” Maybel allowed, draining the mug of ale a servant had brought her while they talked, “if you says so, my lord, I must believe it.” She stood up. “Now, take me to my child.”
They both escorted her upstairs to the earl’s bedchamber where Rosamund sat. She jumped up when Maybel entered the room, wordlessly hugging her old nursemaid.
“Thank God you have come!” she cried.
“Thank God and his Blessed Mother Mary, indeed!” Maybel agreed. “I have never seen you so pale, so worn. You are to go to bed at once, Rosamund Bolton, and I’ll hear no nonsense about it! I am here now, and I will watch over Lord Leslie myself. You will be no use to the man when he awakens if you continue on as you have. Where is Lucy?”
“With Philippa,” Adam said.
“Have you a servant girl who can help me, my lord?” Maybel asked Tom. “Not one of those flighty lasses with little more wit than a post, but a lass who can follow orders.” She looked at Rosamund. “Are you still here, my lady?”
“I sleep by his side at night in case he should waken,” Rosamund said.
“Well, for now you will sleep in another chamber,” Maybel said firmly.
“Next door,” Tom quickly said to his cousin before she might protest. “And I will find a lass among the servants to help you, Maybel. Come, Rosamund,” he coaxed her, taking her by the arm and leading her from the bedchamber.
“Well, my lord”-Maybel looked straight at Adam-“what think you of this?”
Adam shook his head. “I do not know,” he admitted. “I had hoped he would regain his full faculties by now. The physician says, however, that it is not unusual and that he is making a little progress each day. He believes he will open his eyes shortly.”
“And what think you of my lady, Adam Leslie?” Maybel asked directly.
“I think she loves him desperately, Maybel. I pray my father recovers so that they may marry and live their lives together,” Adam answered honestly.
Maybel nodded. “You are, I can see, like him. At first I was not certain it was right. I have been with Rosamund since her birth. Her sweet mother was not strong. I have protected her as best I could from those who would harm her. She has been fortunate in her men. Both Hugh and Owein adored her and she them. But her feelings for them were nothing like those for your father. I have never seen the like of such a love. I doubt few have. To see them together was to see magic,” she concluded.
“I know only that I have never known my father to be so happy in all of my life,” Adam told her. “My mother died birthing me, but it was said he had a fondness for her. He has never remarried, yet when he speaks of your mistress, Maybel, his whole face is alight and shines with his love for her. His happiness is palpable.”
Maybel smiled at Adam. “Aye, you are like him,” she repeated. “Now, get you gone, and I will watch over your father while my mistress gets a well-deserved rest.”
He smiled back at her, and after bowing, he left her alone with his father.
Well, Maybel thought to herself, and isn’t this a pretty mess? Patrick Leslie appeared to be sleeping, his breathing even and quiet. Maybel shook her head. The earl had been in an unconscious state for more than a full week. Was it indeed possible he would recover? She had full intentions of questioning the doctor thoroughly when he came in the evening. Maybel sat down by the earl’s bed. Poor man, she thought.
Rosamund lay down in her gown, fully expecting to wake in a few hours’ time. Instead, she did not open her eyes for almost twenty-four hours. When she did, Lucy was in her bedchamber preparing a bath. The tub had been set before the fireplace, and tendrils of steam arose from the scented water.
“What time is it?” Rosamund asked her sleepily.
“Why ’tis just shortly past the noon hour, my lady,” Lucy replied politely.
“How long have I been sleeping?” Rosamund demanded.
“Practically a full day, I believe, my lady. Maybel said to prepare you a bath and wake you now.” Lucy curtsied.
“Where is Philippa?”
“Lord Tom has taken her to the castle, my lady. He said it was past time the lass met the queen.” Lucy was most chatty.
Rosamund arose quickly, crossing the floor to open the door between her chamber and the sick chamber. Maybel was sitting by the earl’s bed, knitting. “Why did you allow me to sleep so long?” Rosamund said half-angrily as she moved into the room. She went to Patrick’s bed and felt his forehead. It was perfectly cool to the touch. “I’ll sit with him now,” she told Maybel.
“Nay. You’ll bathe yourself, Rosamund Bolton, for never have I known you to stink, and you do. Wash your hair, too. When you are clean, put on fresh garments, and then you will eat something. After that, you may come and sit by your beloved, but not until then, my lass.”
For a moment Rosamund considered arguing with Maybel, but then she saw the futility in it. There was no emergency. Patrick was comfortable. He had no fever; nor was he restless. He had already survived a day without her. An hour more would not matter. “Yes, Maybel,” she said meekly.
Maybel barked a sharp laugh. “Well, I am glad to see you still know how to bow to the proper authority,” she teased.
Rosamund returned through the door connecting the chambers. With Lucy’s aid, she divested herself of the clothing she had been wearing for almost ten days. She had never in her life, she realized, taken so little care of herself and her person. She was surprised that Tom had said nothing, for he was the most fastidious person she had ever known in all her life. She climbed into the oak tub, and the sweet water surrounded her, easing aches she hadn’t even realized she had. She sighed.
“Warm the drying sheets by the fire, Lucy,” she instructed the girl, and then she began washing her long auburn hair with the perfumed soap. Lucy rinsed her mistress’ tresses after each washing, and then wrung the water from the hair and pinned it up for her mistress. Rosamund now began a serious cleansing of her person. She was shocked to see how much dirt she had collected, but then she realized that, from the moment she had arrived, there had been no time to remove the dust of her travels. She climbed from the tub at last, Lucy wrapping her in a drying sheet. Then, sitting by the fire, she let the girl wipe the water from her arms, her legs, and her shoulders. “Give me my hairbrush, Lucy.”
“It’s here, my lady,” Lucy answered her, handing the brush to her mistress.
Rosamund unpinned her hair and began to brush her long locks free of the remaining water, her head turned to the fire to aid in the drying process. And when her hair was dry again, with Lucy’s help she dressed in clean garments, almost embarrassed at how she had let herself go. What if Patrick had awakened and seen her looking no better than some dirty slut from the streets? Her fingers smoothed the orange tawny velvet of her gown. She braided her hair up and tucked it beneath a matching cap with a pretty gold trim, then adjusted her tapestried girdle about her waist.
“Mistress Maybel says you are to eat now, my lady,” Lucy said. “I’ve already instructed the kitchen for you. I have but to pull this bell cord, and the meal will be delivered.” She yanked on the cord. “ ’Tis a marvelous invention, my lady, ain’t it?”
“Indeed it is, Lucy,” Rosamund agreed. “Perhaps we should see if we can install such a device at Friarsgate. Then perhaps you wouldn’t linger in the kitchens so long.”
“Oh, my lady!” Lucy blushed.
A servingman knocked upon the chamber door and entered with a tray. After handing it to Lucy, he moved the tub away from before the fire, drawing forth a small table from its place against the wall. Setting it before the chair, he took the tray back from Lucy and put it down upon the table. Then, with a short bow, he exited the room.
