No, of course not...

"I apologize for my wife." His voice was strained and low, and Christine could see the pain in the Verderer's face as he led them from the kitchen through a small door behind the central chimney. She hastened to assure the man that she and Erik were grateful for any kindness in this unfamiliar city.

"Please, Sir Werner -" She began but was immediately cut off.

"I'm no knight, Evelyn." He snorted sadly, "perhaps if I was, my Marielle would be happier; call me Werner, or if you must - Master Werner."

"Yes of course, Master Werner." Christine began again, "I meant no offense." It felt like everything she did or said brought pain to the man who rescued her and her brother, and since then offered them nothing but kindness.

"None taken, Lass."

It took a moment for Christine's eyes to adjust to the dimly lit stables. What little light there was streamed in from a trio of small windows above the stable door, but she could see the Verderer's dun-colored gelding chewing contentedly at a pile of fodder behind a half-wall. The forester paused briefly to pet the horse before leading them further into the back where a large rain barrel stood nearly full and next to several buckets and a large wooden tub. For a warden trained to kill and whose job it was to uphold the King's Law, Christine noted, Werner seemed to have a gentleness and caring for every living being he encountered.

"I'll set you up in the tack-room, lass." The Verderer picked up the large tub and slung it over his shoulder trying not to picture her kneeling in it and splashing water over her petite body. He pushed open a creaky wooden door and ducked under the low transit to enter an even darker room. "I'm sorry about the lack of light, Miss Evelyn," he set the tub on the floor of the small room lined with shelves, "but we'll have no flame in the stables." Seeing her puzzled look he explained, "Too great a chance of fire." The girl nodded in understanding. She sat patiently on a wooden bench working at the laces of her boots as Werner carried four buckets of water and poured them into the wooden tub until it was almost half full.

"I'll get you some soap and wash rags," Werner told the girl gruffly, even as a happy squeal followed by good natured laughter assured him that his boys were looking after Franklin. The Verderer started to back out the narrow doorway when Evelyn stopped him with a single word.

"Wait." The young woman's voice was low and polite, but it was an order all the same. "I need you to help me with this dress."

For the thousandth time since he first saw the pair, he wondered who this girl was, for she was clearly someone accustomed to being obeyed. Soon his mind was full of other thoughts, because the woman took off her cloak and turned her back to him and he saw the buttons and lacing that secured the girl's bodice tightly to her body. More evidence that this young woman was of a higher station than he.

With the location of the fasteners, there was no way Evelyn could dress herself, this young woman must have had a servant travel with her until very recently. With a tight-lipped nod he set to work loosening the lacings. He could only imagine what his wife would say if she knew what he was doing, but there was no one else and so he turned his attention to getting the job done. "Thank-you, Master Werner."

As the muddy ribbons and silver fasteners slowly loosened, more and more of her pale skin became visible under her collar; Werner concentrated on keeping his fingers from trembling. Instead of thinking about how long it had been since he had a woman this beautiful to undress, he focused his attention on what still had to be done. The pair would need something to wear while their clothes dried, and a place to spend the night. In spite of what Marielle might want, there was no way he was throwing these two innocents out onto the streets at night.

There were some old tunics that they could wear stowed away on one of shelves, and a horse blanket -

He stopped abruptly as the final fastener popped free and Evelyn's gown fell open at the shoulders exposing all of her neck and much of her upper back. Unlike the mud-stained skin of her face and hands, this pale flesh was as smooth and creamy as a baby's, and his sudden gasp filled his nose with the scent of her perfume. He was not the only one affected by the change, because when Evelyn turned to face him with her bodice clutched modestly to her chest her face was flushed with excitement and confusion at her abrupt understanding of her position.