The next day Roselyn and Raoul are sat together on a bench beneath a fruit tree in the garden of her family home, overlooking the landing stage and river. The midday sun is filtering through the tree, light and shadow forming leafy patterns.
Roselyn is desperate, a pained look on her face as they whisper together. ‘It’s true! My parents have arranged for me to marry Nigel. The wedding date has been set.’
‘How could they do that to you? He’ll never give you the happiness that I can give you.’
‘They say I must marry according to my station, it’s my family’s will. Their prosperity depends on me. Nigel’s father is part of the King’s inner circle. What can I do? I would exist like someone else. I thought about making an objection, but my parents would still have their way, so I said nothing, knowing I would be confined to my rooms until the wedding. Even if I refused to wed Nigel, my parents would marry me to whoever else they please.’ She shakes her head. ‘I’ve so much living to do, so much I’ve never seen, never done.’
‘Since your news, I’ve lost the will to compose. It has died. I am the saddest man in the kingdom.’
As she moves closer to grip his hand, he becomes aware of her light, rich perfume. ‘Then the world will be sorry if you compose no more.’
‘You can run away, with me.’
‘You know it’s not that easy. My family would be in disgrace.’ She bites her lower lip.
‘You would be free.’
She shakes her head. ‘I would be made an example of. Probably incarcerated into a convent. Even if I escaped, how would I live.’ She holds up her hands. ‘Look at these hands. They’re too soft to be a maid’s, or a field worker’s. I would be destitute.’
‘I would not allow that.’ Raoul’s eyes light up and he snaps his fingers. ‘That could be it! Disguise yourself as a maid, nobody would know.’
‘I’m so confused. To be with a man of low station even if I adore, would bring dishonour on my family. My family have been nobles for centuries, in banking and property.’ She looks up at the house then back at Raoul as if in apology. ‘To my mind, nobility comes from the heart, not from blood.’
‘Only one from the nobility would say that!’ he responds, although without humour. ‘I have nothing. I’m only a minstrel.’
‘Please don’t hate me.’ She feels her cheeks go warm. ‘I want to be with you, that’s why I’m here. But I have family obligations.’ Her face contorts. ‘Oh, he is so repellent.’
‘I can be more.’ A lump rises in his throat.
‘As the best executioner in Europe!’ She chokes back her words, she wants to kick herself for saying that, feeling her heart turn over. ‘Please, don’t be cross with me, I’m not mocking you. My family would despise any man who rose above his station. I am distraught at the thought. I feel I could scratch my arms, my cheeks in frustration.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘I wish I could break free.’
‘As long as I live, I will think a way around this.’
His words bring comfort to her. She rewards him with a smile while squeezing his hand. He quickly leans forward to kiss her on the forehead. She does not pull back, only stares at him from her bright violet eyes. He moves closer to cradle her chin, a desired moment has finally come.