War was Rafael’s world, and it was one Elizabeth did not understand in the least.
Nor did she wish to know more of battle. The fighting and the killing was abhorrent to her, but she was fascinated by the way his fellows had turned to Rafael for aid when one of them had been injured.
They trusted him, and it seemed to Elizabeth that men of such pragmatism would only trust another who had proven himself worthy of their confidence. Healing, also, could be the domain of women, and Elizabeth had to believe that any woman who matched her path to that of Rafael would have need of such skills.
She had witnessed the making of possets for coughs and chills and fevers, had heard the arrival of babes, had witnessed the treating of wounds in the kitchen, and had learned how best to rock a child whos
