“I can, and, God help me, I should.” She sighed again. “The very first thing he did was frighten me out of my wits.” Amélie’s memory brought a radiance to her face. “I was returning from a day’s cherry picking, near my home village in Anjou. Oh, it seems so far away now.”
“It is,” said Benedict. “I’ve fought there. Over the sea, in the other part of King Henry’s great kingdom.”
“Then you know how beautiful it is,” said Amélie with a wistful smile. “It was midsummer, and everyone in the village helped through the day, for the cherry season is short and the fruit will spoil if it’s not brought in quickly. It was a hot, hot day, with the sun on our backs, the sweet smell of the fruit in the warm sunshine. My hands were stained dark pink with juice, and I’m sure the scent from crushed fruit made me fuddled, for I set off for home at sunset with my companions, but without my water jar.”
Father was a farmer? Theodosia waited for her to continue.
“I went back to get it, for I didn’t want to be without it the following day,” said Amélie. “It took me a while, but I found it. I was making my way home through the lanes, high bushes on both sides and crowded with roses. I don’t know what it is with roses, but when the evening comes, they seem to send out ten times their scent. Then, suddenly, from the bushes, out steps this strange man. I screamed with fright, as I was only your age, my blessed.” She arched her eyebrows and pursed her lips.
“Your daughter has seen sights more frightening than that,” said Benedict.
Amélie’s hand went to her mouth. “Please, do not remind me.” She shook her head. “I went to run, but the stranger grabbed my wrist and pleaded with me for help. While his appearance was rough, with his pale skin burned and lips cracked from the sun, his thick red hair matted with sweat, his voice was that of a nobleman and his face was the strongest I had ever, ever seen. I took a better look at his clothing. Though it was without decoration and torn in many places, I could tell it was the finest cloth and beautifully tailored.”
“Then was he a lord?” said Theodosia.
“Hold, Theodosia.” Benedict gestured to her. “A nobleman wouldn’t be roaming the land on foot, he should have been mounted.”
“Why should I hold? It’s my father — ”
“Theodosia, your manners. Sir Palmer asks a perceptive question.”
Mama’s tone that allowed no argument — she remembered it well.
With a gracious nod to Benedict, Amélie continued. “A hunting accident, poor soul. He’d gone out on his own, his horse had thrown him. Oh, but in spite of his hours in the heat, he was still furious. He dug into one of his pockets and waved a horseshoe at me. ‘Look, look,’ he said, ‘some’ — and I cannot repeat the word — ‘used the wrong-size nails.’ He was not familiar with the countryside, so had wandered for hours in the boiling sun. He railed about his accident, his farrier.” Amélie gave her inward-looking smile again. “I feared he would drive himself into a paroxysm.”
Theodosia did not dare to comment.
“The heat can drive a man mad,” said Benedict.
Amélie nodded. “That was what worried me. I handed him my water jar and told him to drink what was left. I do not think I have ever seen a man so grateful for a few mouthfuls of spring water warmed through from a day in the sun. As he drank, I took my straw hat and fanned him with it as best I could, took my own kerchief and mopped his brow. He smiled at me as he drained the bottle. Oh, the way that smile lit his eyes: piercing gray, they were, as sharp as an eagle’s, and such huge life in them.” With a sigh, she shook her head once more. “I offered to take him home.”
Theodosia dared not give voice to her disapproval, but she doubted if it mattered. Though her mother spoke of her father, Amélie seemed far more focused on Benedict.
“I know what you must be thinking, Sir Palmer.” Amélie had a delicate flush to her cheek. “But I was not a nun then. I lived with my parents, respectable, God-fearing free tenants with ten virgates of their own. I had to offer him shelter, somewhere to eat, drink. My poor offering of water would not have been enough to sustain him for long.”
“A noble offer.” Benedict gave a slight nod as Theodosia stayed silent.
Her mother didn’t seem to notice any undercurrent in Benedict’s remark. “As we walked along the lanes, he appeared restored to great good cheer. He told me I’d been sent from heaven by the Almighty to save his life, plucked rose petals from the bushes, and strew them where I walked, said such a woman should not have to tread upon this earth.” She smiled again at her own recollections. “I laughed at first at such absurdity, but he would have none of it, kept calling out my virtues. Darkness was falling as we approached my father’s farm. I could see lights moving about, and I knew folk would be looking for me. I turned to him to point them out to him.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “As I did so, he fell to his knees and promised himself to me.”