"Where am I?" she murmured, still half dazed. "Is this not Bedford Castle? There has been treachery--treachery by that ill-looking priest! This is more of De Breauté's doings, damsel."
"Nay, lady, I can tell thee naught, save that my lord Sir Fulke bade me prepare a lodging in the keep for a lady who was to arrive in my lady's litter. Thy chamber is ready on the floor above the great hall, next to my lady's bower. Prithee, let me lead thee thither."
Aliva felt somewhat reassured by this reception. At least she found herself in the care of women.
Silently she allowed her conductress to show her the way across the hall and up a turret stair to her apartment, where she sank wearily on a couch.
The pretty waiting-woman bustled about, offering the unhappy girl various attentions. She brought her articles of dress from her mistress's coffer, and assisted Aliva to remove her travel-stained garments and clothe herself in becoming attire.
The latter eyed her curiously.
"And who art thou, maiden?" she inquired.
"My name is Beatrice Mertoun. I am the waiting-woman of the Lady Margaret, the wife of Sir Fulke. And thou, lady, if I might make so bold?"
"I am Aliva de Pateshulle from Bletsoe," returned Aliva.
"From Bletsoe!" echoed Beatrice. "Methought I remembered your face and figure as one of the nuns at Elstow when I attended my mistress to the retreat there. We returned but yesterday. But thou art no nun--no sister of an abbey?"