The Entrance of Summer, and Isabel

Ahhh, the good weather has begun at last. It takes longer for us than for most places, but finally the grass is greening up, the trees are budding, and the first of my daffodils are blooming. It was over 70 degrees this weekend--short sleeves and sandals!--and everyone was outside if they could be. Montana truly is heaven in summer. It doesn't last long, but it's fabulous while it's here.

I did manage to write this weekend, and added a few hundred words on the new Isabel scene. Here's a bit of it:

From The Murderess's Tale, Copyright 2006 by Susan Adrian, All Rights Reserved

Even heavy with child she had grace, and an immediate presence. She was a full head shorter than me, at the least, and dark, with smooth, coiled black hair and cool Spanish eyes. She stood a few steps in, her eyes on the window slit as if awaiting something.

Juliana pushed to her feet and bowed her head, and I did the same. "Duchess," said Juliana, quietly.

Isabel of Castile—princess in her own right, Duchess of York, and aunt to the King—nodded to William, and he left and closed the door.

She crossed to Juliana and spread a small, heavily ringed hand over Juliana's jutting belly. "My fine husband's?" she asked. Her voice was still marked with the rhythm of the south, though she must have been fifteen years in England.

Juliana raised her chin, but said nothing. Isabel pulled her hand away and cupped her own belly, her dark eyes searching Juliana's.

"One of my ladies said it was so," she said, without emotion. "The fool insists on sleeping with William the sycophant, though I've warned her she will wake with her throat cut, on one of these morns." Her gaze swung to me, a quick up and down that left me cold. "And I see he has a spare."

It still needs some polishing, but that's her. She is fun to write about. I knew it. :)

Medieval Word of the Day: saucefleme: A swelling of the face accompanied by inflammation, supposed to be due to salt humours.