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Authors: Angela Elwell Hunt
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companion. I think you will get along well together.”
A girl’s playmate! Afton felt another indescribable rush of gratitude to the tall woman at her side. In her fondest dreams, Afton had never dared to hope that she would be able to play--and with a girl!
Afton followed Endeline out of the spacious hall and ascended another staircase, this one of wood and very steep. To the right of the staircase landing lay a spacious chamber whose chief furnishing was an enormous curtained bed, and through this chamber Afton was led to a smaller room.
Here a dark-haired girl sat at a heavy table with a solid-looking woman whose plump face was framed by a coarse cotton wimple. Afton glanced at the woman, but gazed hungrily at the girl. The girl returned Afton’s scrutiny with a scowl.
“This will be your chamber,” Endeline said gently. She pointed to a stack of stuffed mattresses against the wall. “You will sleep in here with Lienor and my maids. Lienor, dear, greet your new companion.”
The dark-haired girl frowned and her brows rushed together. “Hello.”
“And this is Eleanor, who is giving Lienor a lesson in Latin. Do you read, Afton?”
Afton shook her head, and Endeline nodded curtly. “Then you shall be taught. You will learn to read, write, and speak Latin and French. You and Lienor will be unsurpassed in your ability to sing and tell charming stories.” She patted Afton’s shoulders and laughed softly. “You two girls will be the most accomplished young women in King Henry’s kingdom.”
“Lienor has written you a poem, Lady Endeline,” Eleanor spoke up, pointing to a scrap of parchment on the table.
“I will hear it later,” Endeline said, dismissing Eleanor with a gesture. “Now I would like you to fetch Morgan and Lunette. We’re going to give this child a bath and get her into decent clothes.”
***
Afton’s world expanded with each passing moment. Morgan and Lunette, Endeline’s two young maids, made no secret of their curiosity and zest for their lady’s latest endeavor. They bustled Afton to another small room off the bedchamber, and Afton saw nothing in the room but a wooden tub lined with thick cloth. Afton stood and hugged herself, not knowing what to do. Lunette put her hands on her hips. “Don’t just stand there, miss, strip off zhat tunic,” she ordered in a heavy French accent. “You’re in need of a good scrubbing, zhat’s for sure. When’s the last time you had a bath?”
Afton’s eyes widened. Strip? A bath? A scrubbing? What were they planning to do to her? Morgan sighed. “Excuse me, miss, but Lunette thinks everybody in the manor knows what a bathtub is. I know better, and I know you likely ‘aven’t seen one, but Lord Perceval fairly loves the thing. He even takes it with ‘im when ‘e travels.”
“So strip!” Lunette ordered, moving toward Afton. “Get ready to take ze bath, or I’ll have to take your clothes off myself.”
Afton unloosed the ribbons that held up her tunic and let it fall to the floor. Morgan jiggled a spigot and water began to flow into the tub. Afton couldn’t believe her eyes. “Where does the water come from?” she asked, her voice a mere squeak under the sound of running water. Did Lord Perceval have the power to make the walls give water?
“The water comes from the roof,” Morgan explained, pointing upward with her solid arm. “A cistern up there collects rain water and it comes down through the pipes when we need it.”
“The rain even flushes ze lavatory,” Lunette added. She crinkled her nose and pointed to a niche in the stone wall. “So we pray for rain.” She nodded toward the filled tub. “Step on the stool and hop in, little lamb.”
“What does the rain flush?” Afton asked, stepping into the tub. She shivered. The water was cold.
Morgan’s head jerked toward the opening in the wall again as she began to scrub Afton’s skin. “The lavatory. Where you will relieve yourself. A long pipe against the
A girl’s playmate! Afton felt another indescribable rush of gratitude to the tall woman at her side. In her fondest dreams, Afton had never dared to hope that she would be able to play--and with a girl!
Afton followed Endeline out of the spacious hall and ascended another staircase, this one of wood and very steep. To the right of the staircase landing lay a spacious chamber whose chief furnishing was an enormous curtained bed, and through this chamber Afton was led to a smaller room.
Here a dark-haired girl sat at a heavy table with a solid-looking woman whose plump face was framed by a coarse cotton wimple. Afton glanced at the woman, but gazed hungrily at the girl. The girl returned Afton’s scrutiny with a scowl.
“This will be your chamber,” Endeline said gently. She pointed to a stack of stuffed mattresses against the wall. “You will sleep in here with Lienor and my maids. Lienor, dear, greet your new companion.”
The dark-haired girl frowned and her brows rushed together. “Hello.”
“And this is Eleanor, who is giving Lienor a lesson in Latin. Do you read, Afton?”
Afton shook her head, and Endeline nodded curtly. “Then you shall be taught. You will learn to read, write, and speak Latin and French. You and Lienor will be unsurpassed in your ability to sing and tell charming stories.” She patted Afton’s shoulders and laughed softly. “You two girls will be the most accomplished young women in King Henry’s kingdom.”
“Lienor has written you a poem, Lady Endeline,” Eleanor spoke up, pointing to a scrap of parchment on the table.
“I will hear it later,” Endeline said, dismissing Eleanor with a gesture. “Now I would like you to fetch Morgan and Lunette. We’re going to give this child a bath and get her into decent clothes.”
***
Afton’s world expanded with each passing moment. Morgan and Lunette, Endeline’s two young maids, made no secret of their curiosity and zest for their lady’s latest endeavor. They bustled Afton to another small room off the bedchamber, and Afton saw nothing in the room but a wooden tub lined with thick cloth. Afton stood and hugged herself, not knowing what to do. Lunette put her hands on her hips. “Don’t just stand there, miss, strip off zhat tunic,” she ordered in a heavy French accent. “You’re in need of a good scrubbing, zhat’s for sure. When’s the last time you had a bath?”
Afton’s eyes widened. Strip? A bath? A scrubbing? What were they planning to do to her? Morgan sighed. “Excuse me, miss, but Lunette thinks everybody in the manor knows what a bathtub is. I know better, and I know you likely ‘aven’t seen one, but Lord Perceval fairly loves the thing. He even takes it with ‘im when ‘e travels.”
“So strip!” Lunette ordered, moving toward Afton. “Get ready to take ze bath, or I’ll have to take your clothes off myself.”
Afton unloosed the ribbons that held up her tunic and let it fall to the floor. Morgan jiggled a spigot and water began to flow into the tub. Afton couldn’t believe her eyes. “Where does the water come from?” she asked, her voice a mere squeak under the sound of running water. Did Lord Perceval have the power to make the walls give water?
“The water comes from the roof,” Morgan explained, pointing upward with her solid arm. “A cistern up there collects rain water and it comes down through the pipes when we need it.”
“The rain even flushes ze lavatory,” Lunette added. She crinkled her nose and pointed to a niche in the stone wall. “So we pray for rain.” She nodded toward the filled tub. “Step on the stool and hop in, little lamb.”
“What does the rain flush?” Afton asked, stepping into the tub. She shivered. The water was cold.
Morgan’s head jerked toward the opening in the wall again as she began to scrub Afton’s skin. “The lavatory. Where you will relieve yourself. A long pipe against the
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