“Did you tell Malton to alert the men?”
“Oh, aye,” Mark said.
“Good. Now we wait.”
Chandra jabbed a needle into Jerval’s burgundy-velvet tunic.
“Nay, Chandra,” Mary said. “You must be more careful, else you’ll make a greater rent in the fabric.”
“By all the saints’ woes, I don’t care, Mary. One of those silly girls could do this.”
Mary was relieved that Lady Avicia had left Chandra with her and had not chosen to oversee the mending herself.
“Perhaps, but that is not the point. It is your responsibility to care for your lord’s clothing. Don’t you see? When another sees Jerval, sees that he is richly clothed, that his tunics are finely made, then he knows he is well stationed, that his wife cares well for him.”
To Mary’s consternation, a tear slid down Chandra’s cheek and dripped off her chin.
“Oh, dear, don’t cry. I’ve only seen you cry once before and I hated it, mayhap even more than you did. Listen to me. To be a wife is no shame, Chandra. Just think, once you have learned all the housewifely skills, then you can easily supervise whilst the servants do it. And do you know what will be true then?”
“No, dammit.”
“You’ll know what both men and women alike know. You will be unique.”
“I don’t want to be unique. I want to go home.”
Mary, for the first time in her life, wanted to slap her friend. “I do not understand you. Here you are, given all you could desire. You are safely wed and your husband is a very fine man. I begin to believe that you do not deserve him. The good Lord knows that he wants to please you, if only you will let go of your ridiculous pride and allow it. Aye, I am nearly ready to hit you and that must mean that you have pushed me very hard.”
Chandra dropped the needle and swiped her palm over her cheek. “Please do not hit me,” she said, and there was a smile through that deadening pain on her face. “And the other—I haven’t forgotten, Mary. You will not live in dishonor, I swear. It is just that I must wait for Jerval to return.”
“Jerval? Oh, please, I don’t wish for him to know.”
“There is no way for him not to know. You said yourself that he is a fine man. Does that mean you believe him fair? Honorable?”
“Well, yes.”
“Fine, then stop worrying.”
“So you believe your husband to be fair and honorable as well?”
“Yes, I suppose that I do.”
“Then mend his tunic well, and count your blessings. Oh, I’m sorry, Chandra. I know that you will do your best, and mayhap even Jerval will think about it as well, but time is growing short. Just this morning I very nearly vomited on Lady Avicia’s slippers.”
“Trust me, Mary. Everything will be all right.”
Mary watched her poke the needle through the fine fabric and shook her head. “Let me show you again how to take a stitch just there. Come, you can learn. It is not that difficult.”
“I hate that old hag. She yelled at me this morning, actually yelled.”
“You had overcooked the eggs. They weren’t edible. But I was proud of you. You did not threaten to wring her neck, nor did you yell back. Pray accept what you must do. I am so tired of all the fighting.”
“I haven’t fought anyone in a full day now. I even ignore Julianna, and that, I will tell you, is more difficult than you can imagine.”
“All right, then more often than not, you are now fighting with your damnable pride. You must know that Jerval will ease his hold once you prove to him that you can be reasonable. He has told you he will.”
“If only he had taken me with him to fight the Scots. I would have done well, you know that I would have. But he put me in a terrible position. It isn’t my pride here, Mary.”
“It isn’t? Listen to me. There was no way Jerval could have taken you. All would have believed him beyond foolish to take such a chance with your life.”