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were killed while protecting me. I came here with a group of peddlers, but I fear that no one was expecting me. I would seek your counsel, my lord, as to what to do next. I will stay on here if that is what you wish. If not, then may it please my lord to provide an escort for me to return to my father’s castle.”
    Bracken sat in stunned silence for a full minute. His men, including Arik, who had suddenly appeared in the doorway behind this girl, had been watching the maid in their midst. Now they turned their gaze to their lord and waited his reaction. It wasn’t long in coming.
    He stood, his face a stony mask, and pointed a finger at Megan.
    “Remove this creature from my presence.” Bracken’s voice was coldly furious, telling of his insult that she would attempt such duplicity. Bracken refused to believe that this scullery maid could be his future bride.
    Unfortunately for Bracken, Megan’s anger matched his own. All humility fell away like a cloak, and her eyes shot daggers at the men approaching.
    “Do not touch me,” she commanded with enough authority to stop the men in their tracks. Her eyes raked them before turning like hot coals onto Bracken.
    “I am treated like a servant in your keep for five days, and if that isn’t bad enough you now treat me like a dog! There is no need for your men to see me out; I shall leave on my own.” Megan paused then, but even in her present filthy state she was magnificent. “You, Lord Bracken, can explain to King Henry why we will not be wed.”
    With that Megan swept from a room that was so silent Bracken could hear his men breathing. He had judged her a fake, but now he doubted his own eyes and ears. He glanced up to see Arik still in attendance.
    “Has she been here for five days?”
    Arik’s head barely dipped one time in affirmation.
    Bracken drew breath between clenched teeth. “I will check this story myself. We ride in five minutes.”

Five
    N O ONE AT H AWKINGS C REST could have missed Bracken’s departure with his men, but Megan gave it little heed. Not knowing how she would get there, or even if she would be welcome, Megan was going home. For the moment that was all she could think of.
    Deep in thought, Megan was standing near the smithery, her mind preoccupied, when she suddenly spotted Arik coming from the castle. Megan started. She had assumed he’d gone with Bracken. She darted around the side of the building, knowing somehow that he must not see her. The area inside the walls of Hawkings Crest was like a small village or Megan would never have gotten away with what she did next.
    At the rear of the smithery an old cloak of substantial size had been discarded, and Megan bent to pick it up. Her own stench had been most offensive to her senses for days now, but the oversized cloak made her dress smell like a blossom.
    Nevertheless, she was determined. Having to choke down a small gag, she placed the cloak around her, covering her head and letting the garment dangle on the ground. She then moved like an old woman from around the side of the building, walking an irregular path toward the main gate. She had been praying all the while and now sent up a word of thanks when the gate opened for a small group of merchants that included a shoemaker and several women. Megan didn’t know what the women did, but she hung behind them and as the door opened, adopted a gait that looked almost painful, and moved forward.

     
    Arik had been standing stock still for many minutes and still hadn’t spotted Bracken’s lady. He knew well that Bracken didn’t see her as his own, but she was. He had known from the moment he laid eyes on her. Now she had managed to disappear. Arik had learned over the years that one found something much faster by thoughtful looking rather than mad dashing-about. On this occasion, however, it was getting him nowhere.
    He was turning for the smithery and the creamery when he saw the gate open. No one stood out, in fact he’d have sworn