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a
daughter, to a general serving William the Bastard. They had thirteen children,
the eldest of which was my grandfather several times over." He grinned. "Funny
thing about the Norman general; his name was not le Mon when he married the
Saxon princess. All he could say about his new acquisition was 'mine, mine', so
William took to calling him 'mon', which is 'mine' in French. So the name le
Mon was born."
    Derica laughed softly.
"A name borne of greed."
    "I certainly can't
blame the man being excited about his just reward."
    Derica shrugged in
agreement. The conversation lulled and she couldn't think of any more questions
to ask him at the moment. He had been quite open with her and she was, in
truth, feeling comfortable with him. He seemed to be a likable man in spite of
her original impression.  She was coming to regret not attending sup; yet if
she had, she knew they would not have been able to converse as they were now
with her brothers and uncles hanging over them.
     A twinkle came to her
eye. "Now," she said. "Are you going to tell me how you got in
through that window or are you going to dazzle me with more talk of the history
of the le Mon family?"
    "I am going to
dazzle you with more talk."
    She shook her head, a
reproachful gesture. Yet there was humor in it.  "Then talk. God's Bones,
you risked your life to come to me. You may as well make it worth the
risk."
    "It is worth the
risk already."
    Derica could feel her cheeks
grow warm.  Lowering her gaze, she moved her chair back, away from the fire.
"You may as well sit across from me rather than in the darkness, then. Let
us be comfortable."
    Garren didn't need to be
told twice. He picked up his chair and moved it. Sitting an arm's length away
from her was much better than sitting an entire room's width from her. He just
sat there, looking at her, smiling when she would meet his gaze, looking at his
hands when she looked away, both of them trying to think of something to say. 
It was not uncomfortable, but more than once they chuckled when they realized
the flow of conversation did not come so easily.
    "Is Chateroy a
beautiful place, then?" Derica finally asked.
    Garren nodded.  "I
think so." He couldn't think of much else to say to that. "Have you
lived at Framlingham all of your life?"
    "Aye," she
replied. "I was sent away to foster when I was eight years of age, but my
family missed me so that they sent for me when I was twelve years and I have
been back at Framlingham ever since."
    Garren cocked an
eyebrow. "If they think to send for you when you and I go to Chateroy,
they had better think twice. I will not return you."
    She was pleased by his
statement. "It will be difficult for them. Being the only female in the
family, I am something of a prized commodity. Women tend not to survive long in
the de Rosa house."
    "Why?"
    She shrugged. "It
is rare for a female de Rosa to be born. For several generations back there has
been nothing but males. My father has three brothers, and his father had one,
and his father before him had six, and so forth, for seven generations. I am
the first female in well over one hundred years."
    "And well worth the
wait," Garren said quietly.
    Derica burst into
embarrassed laughter. "You certainly are free with your flattery, Sir
Garren."
    He shook his head.
"Not really. It does not come easy to me, as I am not particularly
comfortable with women."
    "You seem very
comfortable with me."
    "That is because
you are easy to talk to."
    She dipped her head
graciously, to thank him. The conversation quieted once again, but there was no
discomfort to it. Garren's gaze moved back and forth between Derica and the
dying fire. He was appalled and thrilled to realize he could grow to like this
very much. She'd given him no reason to dislike her; if anything, the entire
conversation had produced the opposite effect.  The seed of confusion that had
sprouted in his mind was growing in to a nice, healthy sapling, one he should
like to rip out by the