In the Lords’ houses she kept to herself and worked in the kitchens. There among the breads and spices, was a haven from the unwanted advances of the young nobility, looking only for a bedding and nothing more. Leave that to the maids. Lady Arabelle knew cooking better than cleaning having spent hours in the kitchen with her mother. There the two women often retreated to puzzle over problems while kneading dough for bread.
War still raged about the countries. The closer it came the further away from home Lady Arabelle moved.
At last she found a Manor far from it all. Tucked into the mountains it seemed a safe haven from the storms. It might have been fate that drew her there, or perhaps it was the thought of seeing Sir Lord Winfry again. Either way there was a Lord Winfry at the Manor, but he was old. He did, she learned, have a son serving the King. Lady Arabelle fought to keep hope, to not become a bitter old maid, but her silence alienated her from the other servants. And so she became the midnight bread baker, kneading in silence, trying not to think.