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and time wouldn’t erase those wonders from
his memory.
“What is the second song?” she asked.
“The Way You Look Tonight.”
“Ooh, a romantic song. Did you sing it to a special lady?”
“I sang it for all the ladies I left behind. They were very fond of the words and the way I
sang to them, of course.” He smiled for the second time since battle.
“Sing them for me,” she said, leaning close enough for her hair to brush his cheek. It
smelled honey sweet. He raised his hand to stroke it as she sat back.
“I was going to touch your hair. It has a pleasing smell.”
She leaned in again, he could tell from the tiny amount of heat coming off her body. “My
shampoo is almond and honey scented.” She found his hand with hers and placed his on her head.
“Shampoo, I don’t know what that is, but your hair feels so silky and clean.”
The women on the farms they passed while on campaign kept their hair braided and wore
linen caps. Up close their hair was often oily with strands stuck together and worse, riddled with lice. He stopped stroking her hair at the thought of lice. He suffered from the problem on occasion but was free of the itchy creatures when he’d gone into battle. If Juliette had lice, he’d get them again.
“Is something wrong? You stopped rather abruptly.”
“Do you have lice?” He vigorously scratched his scalp thinking about the possibility.
“No. I’ve never had them. Thank you for saying my hair feels silky. As you can tell, it’s
long and straight and baby fine. I can’t do much with it. Why did you ask about lice?”
“As we traveled through different provinces, I noticed many of the ladies here had them.
To be fair, many of our men-at-arms and most of the Welsh bowmen did too.”
“I’d venture to say many of your women back home also had them. The problem’s not
uniquely French.”
“ Touché,” he conceded in a light tone. “Does this ‘shampoo’ you speak of prevent
them?”
“Not this particular shampoo, but there are medicated ones that get rid of lice.”
He wrapped several locks of hair around the first two fingers of his hand and brought the
locks to his nose, finding the nutty scene now that she mentioned the almond. “Are you married?”
“Yes.”
“Is he blind too?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Curiosity.” Stephen released the locks of her hair and dropped his hand to his lap. “Were
you blind when he met you?”
“Yes. Stephen, are you afraid a sighted person, perhaps a lady you might like in the future,
will be put off by your blindness?”
How could he not fear? How could he not fear his face scaring, not just ladies but
everyone who looked upon it? He’d felt the scars the sword wound left behind. He’d seen such
damage on the faces of old soldiers.
“I’m not afraid of much. I’ve faced death more than once in battle.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Shall I sing now?”
She let out a long sigh. “Please do.”
He opened with The Way You Look Tonight , which was his favorite of the two songs
Shakira taught him. He swayed as he sang, remembering how he moved from table to table, going
from lady to lady, reserving a few words for each lovely.
“I enjoyed that very much. Impressive, since you sang a cappella,” she said after he
finished.
“’A cappella?’”
“Without music.”
“I think you’ll find Tusk sounds better with music.”
Afterward, he asked what she thought and she said she liked it.
“But you’re right, it needs instruments to pump up the lyrics.”
“’Pump up the lyrics.’ What an amusing expression.”
“Would you like to go for a walk in the garden?” she asked.
The idea of going outside troubled him. While alone in his room, he’d walked around and
mastered where each piece of furniture was placed. He had the bruises to show for it after a run-in with an open door and then banging his shin against the bed frame. The doctor ordered the
chest that
Roderick Gordon, Brian Williams