Dearborne moved her long hair allowing it to fall upon her breasts, covering herself from the Cardinal's intensive gaze.
After a few moments of silence, Cardinal Allen glared into her eyes, and in a dishonestly gentle voice, asked her if she cared for refreshment. She couldn't but answer him, and soon she tried to smile as she conceded.
"Shall we sit, then?" asked the Cardinal and escorted her to a vacant table at the café, where several of the men sat about, eyeing them and mumbling with questioning discontent and accusation. Soon, however, they returned to their talking and did not pay attention to the Lady, and the Cardinal, sitting nearby. They resumed their previously gaiety and laughter, and heavy-handed talk.
A large, blond tavern maid soon came to the table. She toted a tray of dirty tankards. With a big smile, she winked at Cardinal Allen then looked at Dearborne. She chuckled a little when he smiled back at her.
"How you, Cardin' — What do?" she asked. Her eyes jutted back and forth between him and Dearborne.
"A small rose wine, please." she finally said.
The tavern maid grinned, then once again winked at Cardinal Allen. With a quick and brisk "it's good!", she left them.
The strange commotion that boomed on the street most of the morning, had grown and spread right down to the café where they sat. Cardinal Allen wasn't too disturbed by the loud shouting of some young man and the discontented, riotous mob that shouted back at him. He was preoccupied with his interest in Dearborne. They said very little at the table or at least, nothing that was of any great significance. Dearborne watched the crowd as they started to throw stones and ripe fruit at the you man, and Allen watched Dearborne's breasts rise and fall with her every breath.
Once more, he continued his deceit and his lecherous manner.
"Ah, yes! Lord Brook is a very lucky man, to have wed such a woman as you!"