Section 3/A

She took a deep breath and then said, "Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but will you tell him that I will come the moment I can? If it weren't truly important, then I would certainly come with you now, but I should be able to leave within an hour. There is just one small piece of business that I absolutely must attend to first.
    "As you say, Miss," the man told her. "Only I wouldn't take too long if I was you."
    "I promise that it will not be two hours until I arrive--even with the walk."
    The driver nodded, put his cap on, and then climbed on his transport. Kestrel watched as he shifted the gears, and cranked the starter wheel. For one moment, the machine sat silent, then the transport began to hum and click as the magic fueled the mechanism.
    Kestrel almost called to him to wait. She didn't know how Boron would take her being even an hour late. It wouldn't be worth it for something that wasn't vitally important. Kestrel felt the letter in her hand. She could feel that this was important.
    As quickly as she could, Kestrel raced back to her room and locked her door. She didn't want anything to interrupt, especially since she expected that she wouldn't be able to keep from crying, and she hated the way she looked when she cried. Already, she was planning the cold water on her face and brisk walk outside that could make her presentable as well as present at the Domini House in two hours time.
    And then she held a penknife in the corner of the envelope, and everything else vanished from her mind. The knife made a whispering rip of paper and then clattered to the floor when Kestrel tried to set it back on her desk and missed.

Kestrel pulled out the letter. There was only one sheet, written closely on front and back. What had made the envelope thick was a handkerchief of unbleached linen, embroidered with her grandmother's sewing. Kestrel lifted the piece of cloth and breathed in the smell of her grandmother. Her eyes pricked, and her throat hurt. She kept the handkerchief in one hand while she held the paper closer so that her untrustworthy eyes could focus on the words.

My Dear Grandaughter,

    This will be a shock to you, but there are secrets I didn't want you to know until after I was gone. I know that they will find me eventually; they're getting close, and I can't have you involved. Maybe someday when you know more, if I had had the time to teach you more, then you might need to know who is following me. Until then, keeping you ignorant--or maybe innocent is the better word--kept you safe. Now that I am gone, they won't be looking for you, and I deem that it is the right time for you to begin to learn what I wish I could have taught you in person.
    Do you remember where you and I played that afternoon? You called it the longest day of your life, and I laughed and said that you must not have lived very long. Do you remember? Do you know the place? I left something for you there. Something that will teach you--I won't mention it here because this letter may have to sit a while and even well-laid plans go astray.
    My little bird, though I am gone, you do not know how I have thought of you. I have bottled my words, to keep them for a day when I from the past and you from the future can meet. Look back at what you never knew, and you will find me. I am waiting for you. You are written more deeply into the fabric of my life than you know.

Your Loving Grandmother,
Anen

 
    It took longer than she had planned before Kestrel could gather herself.
    She knew that her face would be pink and puffy, so she took a cloth, dipped it in the wash basin, and pressed it against her eyes. She had to stop thinking, had to stop feeling. Boron wouldn't wait for long.
    She knew the place. Of course she knew where to look. It was just that it would have to keep until after she had seen Boron. Whatever her grandmother had to teach her, it wasn't likely to have much to do with money, and she had spent more time on family today than she could afford. She tucked the letter back into the envelope, slid it under the books on her shelf, and then tried to keep from thinking about anything at all while she quickly straightened her hair and clothes.
    The small clock next to her bed had only ticked out a few minutes since Boron's driver had knocked at the door. At least she didn't have to ride on a transport with a driver who was pretending not to notice that she had obviously been crying. Hopefully after a walk, Boron wouldn't notice it either.
    Kestrel tucked the handkerchief in to her pocket but then thought better of it and slipped it under her pillow. She didn't want it to become a common-place thing, not yet.


 
    She walked quickly, over the scrubby grass that was kept short by sheep and lack of rain. She avoided the creek where the willows were the thickest, but she was in a hurry and didn't want to walk around to the wooden bridge that was really no more than a glorified plank. It was supposed to keep sheep from crossing as well, but sheep are good at getting into trouble and it wasn't uncommon for a few of them to wander over until a boy and his dog sent them scurrying back.
    Kestrel's fingers worked fast as she unlaced her boots. Since no one was looking, she threw them across the water instead of tying the laces together and stringing them around her neck. Of course, if someone had been watching, she probably would have taken the effort to go all the way to the bridge.
    As it was, she felt free to hold her skirt up to her knees, and brace herself for the first shock of the cold water. She walked carefully. Today wasn't a day that she could splash her dress or even slip on the moss-covered stones at the bottom of the creek bed and fall in.
    Once she was safely across, she dragged dry stockings over wet skin and laced the boots again. The cool air helped to cool her face, and having the challenge of getting across the creek gave her something else to think about. She wanted to think about her grandmother, there just wasn't time right now. Later, she would go to the attic, to the trunk where her mother kept all the old things that she couldn't bare to part with. Kestrel would lift the lid that was held on with old, leather hinges. She would pull out her grandmother's old clothing--it had been Anen, and not Kestrel's mother that had taught the girl to sew. While her little fingers made tangled knots with needle and thread, her grandmother had told her stories and had even talked to her in an old language, a speech from a far away place. Anen said that her people came from there and that Kestrel shouldn't talk to anyone about it, not even her mother. She hadn't understood why--she still didn't--but she liked the sounds of the words.

She caught herself just as the tears were welling up again. She tensed her face and willed them to go away. Her breathing had quickened, but she forced it down, breathed in and out slowly. There wasn't time right now to deal with it. First, she had to arrange her future. Once that was done, she could think about things that she couldn't change.

The Domini House stood to attention on a small rise in the ground. The white exterior and surrounding gardens couldn't ever change what Kestrel thought of as an old general, standing to attention. She didn't especially like the house. Why would someone have spent so much money on a building and not make it pretty? But she respected it. It never looked old or dirty. The Domini never allowed shabbiness anywhere near his...home? The place wasn't, couldn't really be a home. It was a place where work happened, where important people met to discuss trade and sit rigidly at dinners, but she couldn't imagine sitting with her feet on the sofa while she read. Of course, once she was married and a lady, she wouldn't anyway. A Lady Domini didn't sit at home and read half the morning some days. Instead, she wore grey gloves and made social calls. She poured tea. She talked to all the right people about little chatty things that sounded like the weather and people's health, but in reality changed the destinies of the worlds--not just Gideon's Stream, but other and bigger worlds as well.

Of course, the current Lady Domini wasn't alive any more. But Kestrel remembered Boron's mother. She had always been so graceful, so beautiful. She had known exactly what she wanted but made you feel like you were doing her the greatest favor in the world by giving it to her. She hadn't been like Kestrel's mother or like any other mother she knew. And someday Kestrel was going to be exactly the same.

Kestrel thought about the Lady Domini, and about becoming the Lady Domini as she walked up to the House. Usually, she headed straight to the back door whether she was there to teach a lesson to Boron or whether she was delivering some of her mothers herbs and medicines to the housekeeper. Today she wondered, though. Would it be look right to sneak in the back like a kitchen girl when she had been specially sent for? Maybe Boron would prefer to have her go up to the front door since after today she would always use it and never touch the doorknob herself. Well, she amended, that was what would probably happen after today.

But on the other hand, she considered as she trudged up the grass halfway between the gravel drive and the flagstone path, Boron also didn't like things to be out of order. He liked things to be clean, to be organized, and he was never familiar with any of the servants. Maybe he wouldn't like it if she assumed too much too quickly. He might want to give her a chance to be grateful for the change he was going to make in her life.  

 1) Kestrel stood still for a moment. The breeze picked up and blew through her dress, but she stiffened her back and raised her head. She was the future Lady Domini, and she was not going to let anything bring her down or tell her otherwise. Kestrel walked with quick, sure strides to the front door and rapped the knocker.

http://kestrelbook.blogspot.com/2012/02/chapter-1aa.html

2)  Kestrel stood still for a moment, a slight breeze gaining strength enough to make her rub her arms and jump up and down once or twice. She couldn't act like something that she wasn't. After all, what if by some chance she was wrong? But she was so sure. He had acted so...well, he was sure that he liked her, and why else would he call for her if  he liked her so much? Still, it would be embarrassing for the servants to question her when she wasn't their mistress yet.

http://kestrelbook.blogspot.com/2012/02/chapter-1ab.html