likely that he will survive. Should I go prepare him a proper burial? ” Trist continued to stare at Remis. He made a soft growling sound deep in his throat, then pulled back.
She shook her head. “You might not get ill if you travel to Sedgewick, but if you did, I do not know if I could save you, Severin.”
He was already nodding. “I will keep Sedgewick closed for a week more. Do you think that is enough time, Hastings?”
“A fortnight, at least, perhaps more. I will discuss this with the Healer.”
In the three days that followed, none of the Sedgewick people who had come to Oxborough became ill. Father Carreg gave long and grateful thanks to God. Trist stayed close, never once going out of the keep. Whenever Hastings wanted to hug her husband, she had to see first if Trist was sleeping inside his tunic, against his chest.
Hastings stood next to her husband on the great front stone steps of Oxborough keep when the Sedgewick people rode through the gates into the inner bailey. Remis gave his horse over to a stable lad, then came to bow before Severin.
“My lord. My lady. God has blessed us. He has allowed us to live. My lord, I do not believe that you were at Oxborough when Lady Marjorie arrived to take Eloise back to Sedgewick.” He turned and smiled at the woman. She walked gracefully to where Severin and Hastings stood. Slowly, she raised her head and pulled back her veil.
Severin turned to stone.
Hastings did not at first notice. She saw now that the woman was even more beautiful than she remembered. “My lord,” she said, “this is Lady Marjorie.”
That beautiful melodious voice said, “Ah, Severin. It has been many years since I have seen you.”
Hastings blinked at this as she turned to her husband. He was staring at Lady Marjorie, just staring, unmoving, staring as if she were a phantom. He looked frozen; red stained his cheeks. He said finally in a hoarse, very deep voice, “Is it really you, Marjorie?”
“Aye, Severin. I am a widow now, twice over. You remember that my father forced me to marry that filthy old Baron Lipwait? He died and my brother forced me to wed Baron Outbraith, a young man who was pleasing enough.”
“I was told that Eloise’s new guardian was a widow of a knight who had once saved Edward’s life. What is this, Marjorie?”
“It is true. King Edward owed my husband his life and thus he repaid him by giving me the guardianship of Richard de Luci’s daughter. I am content. I live well at Sedgewick. It is good to see you again, Sev-
erin.
Hastings said in an overly loud voice, “Why did you not tell me, Lady Marjorie, when you first arrived to take Eloise away, that you knew my husband? You said nothing at all.”
Marjorie gave her a beautiful, soft smile, dimples deepening in her cheeks. “I had not believed it important, my lady. What was important was the child. Eloise, come here and bid hello to Lady Hastings and Lord Severin.”
Eloise had gained flesh. Her round face shone with health. Her braids no longer looked skinny and dull. She tightly clasped Marjorie’s hand. Marjorie leaned down and whispered something to her. Eloise smiled at Severin, nodded to Hastings, and gave them a lovely curtsy.
Hastings wanted to hug the child to her and tell her how very beautiful she was, but Eloise immediately pressed against Lady Marjorie’s side.
Trist came again out of Severin’s tunic and stared at the woman and the child. He extended a paw toward Eloise.
She laughed and said to Marjorie, “He is Trist and he is Lord Severin’s marten. He is beautiful.”
“Aye, I believe he is fit to belong to his master,” Marjorie said.
Trist continued to wave his paw toward Eloise. He did not turn to look at Marjorie, probably because, Hastings thought, her belly cold and knotted, the woman was so beautiful that it hurt even Trist’s eyes to look upon her.
Torric the steward gave over his chamber to Lady Marjorie and
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