Chapter Twelve
It was a chilling morning when I heard the rap at my door, so hard and severe, I knew it couldn’t be a lover or a friend, and I quaked to think it was Sir Roger. I’m afraid it was far worse than even that horrid scoundrel. The authorities had come for me.
“Arrested, but why?” I protested, when two strong armed officials of the court took my arms. “Tell me what I’ve been accused of.”
“There’s an English lord who claims that you’ve stolen property from a royal house, and that you’re living here on money and jewels pilfered from the royal stores.”
“That’s a lie!” I barked. “My money is my own. I was banished from the royal house, and could in no way have escaped with anything at all.”
“We’re required by law to hear this man’s charge,” he said, roughly leading me to the doo
