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servants there. If she knew what was going on around her, she gave no indication. In a way, he was grateful for this shock that enclosed her in its grasp. He had much to accomplish before they could leave Woodstock and the prying eyes of the court and king. Orrick wanted to put as much distance and time between them before resting his head for sleep.
    â€œMother,” he called out, “would you see that Lady Marguerite’s belongings are moved to our wagons? She should be packed for the most part already.”
    His mother moved into the room and began to organize the servants’ activities. And still Marguerite stood in the middle of it, looking neither left nor right. Pity for her filled his soul. He could only imagine what it felt like to be so wrong about someone and to discover that truth in front of so many others who awaited your betrayal and downfall.
    â€œMarguerite,” he said in a low voice to her. “Marguerite, do you have a maid who will travel with you to Silloth?”
    She said nothing and he was about to shake her to gain her attention when a young woman came to his side and curtsied.
    â€œMy lord, I am Edmee, the lady’s maid. I will travel with her.”
    â€œHelp your lady change into something that can withstand traveling and be ready in half an hour.”
    â€œYes, my lord,” Edmee answered. Before she could step away, Orrick reached out and stopped her.
    â€œDo you speak English?”
    â€œNay, my lord. Only Norman and French, my lord.”
    â€œPrepare your lady now.”
    Orrick shook his head—another problem. His people, other than his mother and her few ladies, spoke English and a smattering of other local tongues like Gaelic. Was English one of the languages Marguerite spoke? Surely it was.
    There was no time to spend fretting over these minor details and so, confident that his orders were being followed here among the women, he returned to his own chambers and found his men efficiently preparing for their trip. Within an hour, his group was on its way out of Woodstock and toward northern England and his home.
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    If Orrick had known the problems he would face on the road, he might have delayed leaving after all. The weather conspired against them, slowing theirprogress with days on end of rain and wind. Although the hospitality of local lords was extended to them, his party was unable to travel quickly due to his wife’s condition. His wife.
    Marguerite had not stirred from her befuddled state since their departure from Woodstock. His mother reported that she barely ate or drank at all, and spoke not a word to anyone, including the young maid Edmee. The lady cooperated and followed instructions, but did not do anything more than was asked of her.
    Orrick stood from where he’d broken his fast and considered what could be done for the severe melancholia that had beset Marguerite. Although certain that the surprise of the wedding being accomplished and the realization of her situation caused it, he was also sure that the rigors of the road were worsening it. Now, with less than a day’s travel left, he felt a small measure of relief and hopefulness that once they arrived in Silloth and once the lady had a chance to accustom herself to her new life, it would all work out. Orrick also knew that, if needed, the village healer was accomplished in her skills.
    At his orders, the lady was escorted to him and he helped her mount. His hands slid along from her waist to her ribs and he noticed the change in her form. Taking his place on his horse next to her, he guided hers as they made their way on the road west.
    He called on his long-unused skills at diplomacy and court behavior and tried to engage her in conversation. His attempts were unsuccessful. He asked her questions about her family and tried to elicitsome information from her about her life in Normandy. He failed. Even his efforts to describe Silloth and his lands and people met