Chapter 4I awakened warm and comfortable and for a moment thought I was in my closet at Whitehall. Then the street sounds below the window, children playing and a cart trundling by, reminded me I was in Will’s lodging, and what an evening I’d had with him. I reached for him as I opened my eyes, but his side of the bed was empty, though still warm.
I rose to wash my face and don my clothes when, atop the oak chest, a sheet of thick, cream-colored paper on which Will had written a missive to his parents caught my eye. I picked it up, noting the handwriting, which was not as good as my own, but not bad either. A man who could read and write was impressive indeed, and I saw increasingly that Will was a remarkable man. He was an expert swordsman, he was literate, and he was sensitive to my des
