She Owns the Knight by Diane Darcy

Beatrice glided back into the room.
    “I don’t need any help!”
    Chin high, Beatrice threw a petulant, reproachful glance. “I will tidy the room.”
    “Get out!”
    Beatrice acted like she didn’t hear, and, a moment later, the two other girls filed back inside.
    Disgusted, Gillian sank down and let her head drop back against the wooden rim. It they came near her, she’d flatten them.
    Ignoring her, the girls chattered as they put things away, made the bed, dusted, swept, and straightened the pots and jars lining one table. One girl straightened the logs beside the fire.
    Gillian sighed and quickly made use of soap and cloth.
    Beatrice brushed out the bottom of the green dress and threw Gillian an arch look. “Everyone is talking about how gallant it was for Lord Kellen to follow and hold your hand last eve. And Lord Kellen has laughed several times this day, already. His mood is much improved since your arrival. The guards over the gatehouse declare to have shown to you the rocks in the distance, and thereby lay claim to the romance.”
    “Everyone’s talking about us?” Usually no one cared to notice anything she did, and it felt strange to have a starring role in the castle gossip.
    “Aye. Some think to rename the rocks as Lover’s Peak or Rapture Ridge. I myself favor Passion’s Precipice.”
    Gillian groaned, then slipped down into the water. She quickly finished washing and was soon ready to get out. If Gillian wasn’t mistaken, the women were now trying to find things to do. Surely the walls didn’t need dusting?
    “Have you any tidings from London? With your father a powerful baron, you must have gone there often. Have you news of the king and queen?”
    Gillian considered her knowledge of history and drew a blank. She had no idea who they even were. “Um. Well. It’s said they have romantic names.”
    Beatrice turned, her brows drawn together. “Henry and Eleanor? Think ye?”
    “Of course.” She filed the names away. She wished she did have some juicy bit of gossip to share based on a broad knowledge of history, but didn’t. “Uh. They’re doing fine. The queen’s gowns are as pretty as ever,” she said cautiously.
    Beatrice lit up. “Have you details? The queen is said to be very beautiful. Is that true?”
    “Sure, and she always wears the latest fashions.” Since the woman was a queen, and considered beautiful, Gillian felt safe making the assertion.
    Beatrice, eyes shining, asked, “What is the latest fashion?”
    Gillian floundered. She’d drawn people in a couple of her castle paintings, but had pretty much used her imagination rather than done any research on clothing. This was what she got for being lazy. “Puffed sleeves, pointed shoes and feathers?”
    The girl squealed. “I had not heard this!”
    Gillian cringed. She should have kept her mouth shut. “I’m ready to get out now, if you’ll just go?”
    Beatrice rushed forward. “I will help.”
    Gillian quickly held the cloth over her chest. “No, I’m fine, really.”
    Beatrice clapped her hands and rushed the two other girls out, then came back and held up a large, dry cloth.
    “Really, I can do it myself. I insist.”
    “’Tis my right and my duty.”
    Gillian sighed. She was pretty sure she’d heard that before. Recently. “Fine. But if you try anything, I’ll annihilate you, understand?”
    Beatrice giggled. “Aye, my lady.”
    She squeezed the moisture from her hair, then from the wash cloth, laying it over the edge. She stood and reached for the drying cloth, but Beatrice backed away until Gillian was out of the tub, completely exposed. Giving Beatrice a dirty look, Gillian snatched the cloth.
    Beatrice stared, eyes wide. “Your toes!” she gaped in astonishment.
    Gillian wrapped up in the cloth and looked at her toes. “You’ve never seen neon pink toenails before, huh? You didn’t notice them yesterday when you stripped me?”
    “My lady. I most sincerely apologize for treating you thus. Lord