Dragon's Child by M. K. Hume Page A

manners Gallia had clapped her hands, giggled delightedly and then kissed Lady Livinia’s cheek.
    The mistress was momentarily taken aback by Gallia’s forwardness and presumption, but the girl smiled so sweetly with her head cocked sideways like a colourful bird that Livinia felt her reservation melt.
    ‘I beg your pardon, my lady. My father would be ashamed of my rackety ways, but I’ve waited so long to see my sweet Julanna that I could burst with excitement.’
    Lady Livinia frowned and Gallia looked chastened.
    ‘I’m gabbling again, aren’t I? I shall be apologizing every day, I’m sure, because I can’t bear silence and I always fill it with chatter - or so my brothers tell me.’
    ‘Never mind, child,’ Ector chuckled in avuncular good humour. ‘We don’t stand on ceremony here.’
    ‘No, indeed, Gallia,’ Lady Livinia began kindly. ‘Good heart counts for more than empty manners.’
    ‘Oh, I do hope so,’ Gallia said with an impish grin. ‘I’ll try to avoid talking too much.’
    Scarcely pausing for breath, Gallia proceeded to regale Lady Livinia with tales of her journey, the appalling condition of the roads and the beauty of Villa Poppinidii. How Gallia talked. Silence was not her métier and she filled the villa with her tinkling laughter. She was enchanted by the atrium and was charmed by the sheep and cows as only a city girl could be, and very full of reminiscences of her friendship with Julanna.
    Despite her natural reserve, Livinia found herself smiling as the child prattled on - and on.
    Her servants soon stowed her many belongings into the best guest chamber and, once again, Gallia was delighted by the comfort of her quarters.
    ‘For I can actually hear birds, Lady Livinia,’ she smiled. ‘Real birds, not those poor things that languish in cages. I do think they sing more prettily when they are free, don’t you?’
    Scarcely pausing for breath, Gallia fell upon a simple pottery beaker filled with wild flowers.
    ‘Oh, how kind you are. The flowers have no smell in Aquae Sulis, but these are heavenly.’ She smiled again. ‘Thank you, Lady Livinia, I know I will be very comfortable in your wonderful house.’
    ‘Hush, child!’ Livinia replied when Gallia seemed to run out of superlatives. ‘Julanna picked these trifles from the fields at dawn. She has desired your company so desperately, but I fear you will find little to divert yourself in our quiet country life.’
    ‘Oh, I don’t care a jot for entertainment. Games make me queasy and Father keeps parading young men before me as if I were a prize heifer. I will so enjoy a holiday from marriage proposals and the smell of fish.’
    Unwillingly, Lady Livinia laughed. The maid was so outspoken and so frank in her observations that even the mistress’s Roman reserve fell away under her charm. Gallia might well prove to be the perfect companion for Julanna, for who could be sullen or sad around this laughing girl?
    ‘And is Julanna well?’ Gallia asked more seriously. ‘I, for one, wouldn’t care if I never saw Aquae Sulis again. She is fortunate to live in Villa Poppinidii, for the air here smells so sweet.’
    ‘Julanna is a little afraid of her coming labour, although it is five months before her child is due to be born. She needs a companion to make her laugh and help the days pass more easily.’
    Gallia so forgot herself as to wink at Lady Livinia, but the mistress lacked the heart to chide this engaging child.
    ‘I’ll cheer her up, never fear, mistress. I have brought gifts from my father and any number of amusements with me. We shall be as happy as the birds in the trees.’
    When Julanna saw her friend in the doorway of her room, she leapt to her feet, wrapped Gallia in a desperate hug and promptly burst into scalding, wrenching tears.
    Unobtrusively, Livinia left the friends to re-acquaint themselves after more than a year of separation.
    Livinia was stricken with guilt and was apprehensive of the warnings of