Free The Merchant's Daughter by Melanie Dickerson Page B

making him look a bit foolish.
    Annabel hurried out. She made it to the bottom of the manor house steps and began walking around the perimeter of the courtyard, forcing Mr. Carpenter to hurry and catch up with her.
    They talked about the lack of rain, the heat, and the bugs that were eating the wheat, before he abruptly changed the topic.
    “You like children, do you?” He chanced a quick glance at her.
    “Well … yes.” Will he now tell me that he’s searching for a mother for Adam? Will he be that blunt? Surely he wouldn’t hint that he wants more children.
    “I hoped I would have many children, six or seven at least, but my wife was rather sickly, and then she died three years ago of the pestilence.”
    Yes he would. God, save me. “That is very sad.”
    Their conversation moved to the progress of the lord’s new house and the journey from Lincoln to Glynval before Annabel told him how she’d come to be at the manor house in Lord le Wyse’s service. She was embarrassed to admit the reason but wanted him to know the truth, since someone was sure to tell him eventually. As they talked, she caught several people staring at them, making her feel even more uncomfortable.
    After a few minutes, Gilbert turned to her, his neck and ears glowing red. “I know you don’t know me at all, Miss Annabel, but Adam likes you, so you must be a kind person. Therefore I’d be pleased if you would begin to consider me as a possible husband.”
    He stood waiting for her answer. Annabel felt her own cheeks glowing. Could I imagine myself married to this man? She did her best to picture it in her mind. All she could think wasthat his nails were dirty and his clothes were baggy, although she knew those things didn’t matter. What mattered was his character, whether he was kind and would be a good husband to her.
    “I-I’m very flattered and honored,” she began, then realized she wasn’t sure if that was the truth. “I — “ She looked up at him and shrugged apologetically. “I don’t know.”
    He nodded. “That’s fair enough. Perhaps we can talk more another day.”
    Adam came running toward them and grabbed Annabel’s hand. “My father knows how to sing five songs. He learned me all of them when I was only six years old. Do you want to hear them?”
    She laughed and squeezed his hand. Her laugh sounded nervous and high-pitched.
    “Another time, Adam,” his father said, grabbing him affectionately by the neck. “Miss Annabel has work to do inside the manor house now.”
    “Thank you.” She smiled, bobbed a quick curtsy, and fled from them, her face tingling with a self-conscious blush.
    Like a bird escaping its cage, she flew up the manor house steps into the upper room and over to Mistress Eustacia’s side, and began helping her set the trenchers on the table for the evening meal.
    She’d heard the other maids talking about Gilbert Carpenter and supposed they were right — he was handsome, in a boyish sort of way. But the thought of him holding her hand, or hugging or kissing her, just made her feel ill.

    The next day Annabel dreaded the evening meal. Mealtimes were always torture because of having to see Bailiff Tom. Every time she encountered him, her mind would go back to his slobbering lips sliding over her face and the disgusting things he’d said he was going to do. She hated being afraid of him, but she couldn’t seem to stop. The knife in her pocket contributed very little to her peace of mind.
    She had been able to force down only a few bites at the midday meal, and though she was hungry, her stomach churned dangerously at the thought of being at the table with the rest of the manor house workers and builders. It was awkward enough seeing Adam and his father again. Thank goodness Gilbert had been too busy to approach her, although she couldn’t believe Adam would give up so easily.
    But most of all, she dreaded seeing the bailiff, his horrible, leering face with his disgusting, pointy nose and