Bertie finds a girl to bring home
“Sir! Wait!”
Bertie was not unaccustomed to hearing girls call after him, but he was not yet a knight, and so it did not occur to him to turn around when addressed as sir. The girl had to come panting up behind him before he turned around, and even then he only turned to see whether she intended to plow over him.
He almost wished she did.
“Sir! Pardon me.”
“Anna, isn’t it?” he smiled.
“You remember me?” She fanned her face lightly with her hand. Her cheeks were delightfully pink, and Bertie hoped it was not entirely due to the run.
“To do otherwise would not do your pretty face justice,” he bowed and winked at her. “But I’m not a knight yet, you know. You needn’t call me sir. You may call me Bertie, as all my friends do.”
“Oh, thank you! And I’m only Anna, so you may call me that. But I thought you must be a knight by now. I haven’t seen you around in so long.”
“Were you looking?” he grinned.
“Maybe,” she smiled shyly.
Bertie was astounded. Anna the tiler’s daughter was very nearly the last thing he expected to have happen to him on that afternoon. He remembered Stein’s warning that she was only a tease, but he also remembered that Stein had qualified it by saying that she was waiting for a man who would marry her in the end.
Stein, of course, thought too highly of his royal blood to marry a craftsman’s daughter, but Bertie was only a former serf’s son, and he was not proud. He hoped Anna knew it. He would simply have to make certain that “the end” remained as vague and distant as possible.
Bertie leaned back against the fencepost, prepared to spend a while. “So…”
“How’s your sister?” she asked abruptly.
“Wynnie, you mean? Say, you were right that day you warned me, weren’t you? I never got to thank you properly…”
Bertie trailed off, deciding it was better not to say too much about that day, in case she had heard the results of his meeting with Anson.
“Perhaps you will think of a way to thank me for it someday. But how is Wynna?”
“Well, wouldn’t you know I was just now on my way to see my mother and tell her the good news: Wynnie had her baby last night.”
“She did?” Anna gasped.
“A boy! Real cute, too. Looks like a little Anson, but I guess Anson was a cute kid.”
“Oh! How sweet! I wish I could see him!”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind riding out there with you…”
“Oh, no! I couldn’t intrude.”
“But it wouldn’t – ”
“No, no. Wynna and I aren’t real good friends, you know. But I care a lot about all my friends.”
“That’s real sweet of you. Well, I’ll tell Wynnie you were asking about her…”
“Oh, no! I’m certain she doesn’t remember me any more. I was just wondering. If she was happy, you know. After what happened,” she added in a whisper.
Bertie rubbed his chin and tried to look wise, though he often thought that a beard would have been a great help. “Well, I don’t know but I guess it turned out all right for Wynnie in the end. She might have waited a few years, but it’s no matter, I guess.”
“It doesn’t always work out so well.” Anna shook her head and frowned sadly.
“Well, that’s how you find out what kind of man a man is, I guess.”
“But a real good man wouldn’t be in that situation in the first place.”
Bertie was startled enough to have to catch at the fence railing behind him to prevent himself from losing his balance.
“I guess Anson is not as bad as he might have been,” she continued, “but he should have treated her better.”
“Well…”
“He’s not a real good man. But… I don’t know,” she sighed. “Perhaps there aren’t any of that sort any more.”
“Well, I don’t know about that…” Bertie wiped his hands down the front of his tunic, wondering again how much he dared say. He knew that girls talked among themselves, so there was probably no point in lying.
“Mind you,” she said, leaning her head close to his and speaking softly, though the nearest possible witnesses were in a distant pasture. “There are some girls who aren’t real good either. I’m not saying it makes a man bad if he’s not nice with those girls. But a good girl such as your sister… that’s just a good thing that he married her in the end, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Well…”
“How you can tell whether a man is good or not, is how he treats a good girl. That’s what I think.”
“That’s just what I was about to say!” Bertie smacked his hand on his thigh, relieved to have been granted a means by which he might still manage to redeem himself.
“I guess we must think alike on that matter,” she smiled.
“I guess we do!”
“Well, Bertie,” she curtseyed, “I’ll let you get along to your mother’s and tell her the good news.”
“But – but why don’t you walk with me?” he asked.
“Oh… I don’t…” she murmured, blushing sweetly.
“Come on! We should be just about in time for dinner.”
“Oh!” She threw up her hands and backed a few steps away from him. “But I don’t want to keep you from your dinner!”
“Silly! I’m inviting you.”
“But I couldn’t!” she gasped. “Your… your mother!”
“My mother’s a real nice lady. She’ll be happy to have you. I bring my friends all the time – Eadwyn and Stein and everyone, I mean. She’s a real good cook, too.”
“But I couldn’t…”
Suddenly Bertie realized she must have thought herself too humble to enter his mother’s house. “Come on. I shall introduce you as Wynnie’s friend, if you want. Or if you want I’ll just tell her you’re my friend. I’ll be real proud to introduce you to my mother.”
“Would you be?” she squeaked.
“Proud as proud! Come on, Anna. You keep refusing, I’ll just think you’re saying no because you don’t want to be seen with me.”
“I wouldn’t want you to think that,” she said softly and laid her hand in the crook of his arm.
