did exactly as she was told, trying to eat as daintily as she could and not drop a crumb or spill a drop. It was hard, for as soon as she tasted the food, it made her more hungry than ever and she longed to stuff her mouth with the dough-soft wheaten bread and sweet herbed mutton, which seemed to deserve far grander words than mere bread or mutton, for they bore little resemblance to the coarse, hard ravel bread and tough salt-meat she was accustomed to eating. Although she promised herself she would only take one bite, she devoured every scrap of the food as if she hadn't eaten for weeks.
She drained the beaker and rose, dropping a half-bob. 'Thank you, m'lady.'
It was as if Lady Anne had been holding her breath, for she answered with a great sigh and sank into a chair, gripping the sides so tightly that the knuckles on her hands turned white.
"You've done well . . . but I am weary. This insufferable heat ... go home now and come back tomorrow at Prime. My maid, Hilda, will show you your duties.'
Master Raffaele nodded and led Elena out of the chamber as far as the set of steps on the outside of the building leading from the hall down into the courtyard. She looked up at him anxiously, trying to judge if her sudden dismissal had been a sign of displeasure.
You did well,' he echoed. But as she turned to go, he grasped her shoulder, pulling her back round to face him again.
'If ever you have need of me . . .' He hesitated. 'I am . . . fond of you, Elena. I would protect you as my own sister or daughter, should you ever find yourself in need of such care.'
There was such a hungry expression in his eyes that Elena felt a shiver of fear. Young girls sense when an older man desires them, far more readily than if it is a boy of their own age. And where love is not returned, which it seldom is, such girls cruelly mock the poor man. But it was not in Elena's nature to mock, and so she did the only other thing she could, she convinced herself it was not so. She lowered her gaze, wriggling out from under his hand even as she stammered her thanks. She did not look back as she ran lightly down the stone steps, even though she was sure he was watching her.
As soon as she was out of sight, fear turned to anger at herself for being afraid. How dare they test her to see if her table manners were good enough to wait on them? What did they think, that the villagers troughed their food from the floor like a pack of hounds? As if she'd ever have need of Master Raffaele as father or brother! She'd managed for years without either and besides, if she needed help, she had Athan now.
Athan! She must find him and tell him the news. Her indignation rapidly turned to excitement and she hugged herself in delight. She had been chosen to serve her ladyship. That would surely mean money and gifts; Lady Anne had already mentioned a new kirtle. She'd heard that maids were given all kinds of things by their wealthy mistresses — dainty food, gloves, trinkets and even purses of money when they married. Of course Athan would wed her without any of that; what village lad expected a dowry from his bride? But if it was offered, just think what they could buy with it. What they had done last night already seemed blessed by God. Any thoughts of unease vanished as she raced like a small child across the courtyard and down the track, bubbling over with the joy and excitement of the day.
Raffe stood at the top of the stairs looking down at Elena as she ran out through the gate, lifting her skirts high like a little girl. Her long thick plaits, bouncing against her tiny waist, flamed red-gold in the bright sunlight. She was by no means the most beautiful woman Raffe had ever seen. Most men would have thought her gawky and homely compared to the raven-haired succubi who had been the ruin of many a godly knight in the Holy Land, but Elena possessed something those women had never had, not even as children. It was an air of pure innocence, an expression of guilelessness in those periwinkle-blue