Chapter 4: The Back

Nan sent the whole crowd home with tea and bread, and then she sent me upstairs to take off my ruined dress.

"The east tower," she said. "It's the only room that doesn't leak."

"Is it Garrick's room?"

"It's your room. He's got a pallet in his own."

"We are married," I said.

"You are married on paper," said Nan. "I've seen a good many papers."

Then she said, almost kindly, "Eat something, Highness. He won't ask you for anything. That's half the trouble with him."

The room was small, round and plain, with a high bed and a window that looked east over the green hills.

Bess had already unpacked half my trunks and was complaining about the straw mattress.

"Go and see if Nan will let you help in the kitchen," I said.

"You want me out so you can think."

"Yes."

"I'll be back in an hour," she said, with great dignity, and left.

I sat on the edge of the bed in my slip and stared at the wall.

I could read it.

The whole back of him, every line.

A knock came at the door.

It was Garrick, with a fresh shirt in his hand and a pallet over his shoulder.

He did not come in.

"Nan says you've no blankets," he said.

"I have a trunk of blankets."

"Then I'm no use at all."

"Garrick, listen. The treaty bought you a wife on paper. It did not buy you my bed."

"I know."

"It did not buy you anything else, either. What I want, I decide."

He looked at me for a moment.

"Then I'll wait to be told," he said, and stayed where he was.

There was a dark bruise rising at the edge of his collar where the stone had hit.

"Come in," I said. "Sit down. You're bleeding."

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