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Giles was pounding him on his back trying to dislodge the bone. Stacey could see it was doing no good, so she came around the table, grabbed the squire around the lower chest and preformed the Heimlich maneuver.  The entire hall went deathly quiet.
    Sir Giles asked, “How did you perform this miracle?”
    “It’s not a miracle; it’s done all the time where I come from, to save lives.”
    “Where be this place?” Sir Giles asked.
    “I don’t remember,” Stacey said. She knew she had made a slip. She must be more careful in the future but she couldn’t just sit there and watch the young man choke to death.
    Sir Giles liked this young woman, but he was like Eric. He did not think she was telling the truth. However, why lie?  She had done no harm since she had arrived. On the contrary, she had done much good. Of course, there be one big impediment. She and Eric do not get along. Each night before bedtime, Sir Perceval would escort Stacey to a secluded spot on the river so she could bathe. Because of the ruckus yester night over the choking squire, Stacey had waited until the morn to go to the river. Stacey washed her hair and it was still wet when she went back in her room.  In her room, she slipped on her bra and bikini panties and was now drying her hair in the sunlight from the window seat, as she stepped back into the room; she leaned over and threw her hair back. When she looked up there stood black beard watching her. She hadn’t heard him come in and was astonished when she saw him standing ogling her; they both stood inertia looking at each other.
    Unabashed, Stacey said, “Do you mind?  This room is mine.” 
    The earl said with lust in his eyes, “No, I do not mind.” 
    Stacey said, “Well take a good look, your lordship.  It will be the only one you’ll ever get.  Now get out!”
    Just as quickly, Eric’s demeanor changed.  He threw her robe to her and said acrimoniously, “Cover ye self, wench. I need speak with ye.”
    Stacey gave him a cold hard look as she slipped on her robe.  She could see he was angry and wondered what she had done this time to displease his lordship. Even more importantly, when the devil, had he returned?  The earl of Dun-Raven was not just angry, he was furious. With eyes of steel, he glared at Stacey and said, “Ye will no longer participate in the young squires training.  What they learn here will one day save their life in battle. They must keep their minds on their training, and not on the temptations of a wench like ye.”
    Now, he really had made her angry. Stacey said through gritted teeth, “Let me understand you or ye, are accusing me of sexually tempting these teenage boys. Is that what you’re thinking?  Well, I would like to meet my accusers face to face, but I’m beginning to think this is only in your suspicious, convoluted mind. Sir Giles and Sir Perceval as well as Rodric were there, did I tempt them also?”
    Stacey was standing with her hairbrush in her hand. Without thinking she threw it at him, hitting him is the chest. “Get out, you despicable sneak,” she yelled. Then she picked up the water pitcher and threw it at him. He ducked, but not in time. He was wet and seething. Next Stacey grabbed the chamber pot. He was out the door fast and pulled it closed behind him. His mother came upstairs to see what had caused the ruckus. Eric was standing in the hall dripping wet. Lady Margaret said to her son, “Well, ye lordship, me thinks ye have met ye match.”
    Eric gave his mother a sour look and went to his solar for dry clothes. Stacey was so angry she could
    have spit nails. How dare he, how dare he insult her so.

Chapter 5
    Add Insult to Injury
    A fter Eric’s explosive encounter with Stacey, he found his mother and told her to give the wench Frances’s clothes.  Lady Margaret told her son, “Frances’s garments will never fit Stacey.”
    In a fit of temper; Eric laconically said, “Well, make the bloody things fit.”
    Stacey