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Rachel asked, coming in and closing the door.
    Mary laughed and briefly shut her eyes. “I thought it would never end! But everyone was very nice to me, telling me how well I looked, and my father gave me this silver ring—see—and told me I was a good girl. So I thought it went very well.”
    “Come. Let’s get you ready for bed.”
    Obediently, Mary let Rachel disrobe her, bathe her and rub her body with scented creams. She donned a white lawn nightdress (possibly as expensive as the wedding gown, Rachel thought cynically), and then the slave combed out the bride’s long hair again.
    “You look pretty,” Rachel told her. “Do you remember everything I told you?”
    “Yes. Oh yes, I think so. But Daniel was kind to me today, too—he kissed my hand and then he kissed me on the lips, and he smiled at me, so I think perhaps it will go well in any case,” Mary said optimistically.
    Rachel smiled. “I’m sure it will. Is this fire hot enough to suit you? Is there anything else you need?”
    “Yes—no—I think— I’m ready, I suppose.”
    Rachel gave a small curtsey and stepped back toward the door. “It will be fine,” she said. “I’ll try to come by in the morning to help you dress. You can tell me about it then.”
    “Oh yes, that would be good. Tomorrow morning and then I can— Rachel, I forgot!”
    Hand on the doorknob, Rachel turned back to face her. “What?”
    The young face was glowing. “He said yes!”
    “Who said yes?”
    “Daniel. He said, yes, I could have you for my wedding gift. And his father agreed! Isn’t that splendid?”
    For a moment, Rachel was so dizzy that only her grip on the door kept her upright. “Splendid,” she said faintly, shaking her head to clear it. “Lady Mary—I can’t tell you how splendid,” she stammered. “You can’t know— You—this means so much—”
    Mary laughed with childlike delight. “Well, good! It is the first time in my life I have been able to make someone else happy. Already I like being a married woman!”
    “Thank you,” Rachel whispered, then bowed again and went out.
    Free, free, free.
She returned to the kitchen and finished her chores, and the whole time her mind was chanting:
Free, free, free.
She lay on her pallet and let exultation drown her; she pressed her fingers to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
Free.
She was tired, but she did not want to sleep. She wanted to revel. That a useless young gentrywoman could give her the most precious gift struck her as highly ironical, but even that thought could not taint her elation.
Free.
    It was late before Rachel slept and early when she woke, but she was energized by a secret euphoria. The clank of the chain between her shackles sounded almost musical this morning; soon the iron bands would be sawed from her wrists, and she would be released. She took extra pains with her appearance this morning, knowing she would see Mary within a few hours, wanting to look her best for her new mistress so that Mary would not change her mind. She scrubbed her face three times, washed her thick curly hair and braided it back, still wet. She put on her best gown, clean and newly mended.
    But there were things to do before she could tend to Mary. Again, she had to build fires in the guest rooms—although, of theangelic contingents, only those from Monteverde and the Eyrie were still in the house. As before, most of the guests slept through her visit, but the angel Gabriel was awake when she entered his room.
    Standing in the dawnlight at the long, high window, he looked clean and sculpted as a marble statue. Rachel checked on the threshold, since she had not expected him to be awake, and he gave her one quick, blue, indifferent glance. Keeping her eyes down, she hurried across to the fireplace and quickly built the fire. Or tried to—some malice was in the coals that they did not want to light. Even the matches were troublesome, requiring two or three strikes to catch. She imagined the