“Hm?”
“Just seeing if you’re awake. You know, dear one, you don’t have to marry William de Ros or anyone else if you don’t want to.”
She hadn’t been thinking of marriage plans at all. Or maybe she had, without realizing it. Would marriage keep her safe? She looked at her mother’s overtired face, the way her hand clenched protectively on Eleanor’s arm and her gaze kept falling on John, the large man with the arrow wound who had been prepared to die for them, and Mary believed that no, it couldn’t. But having good friends around you could.
“I think I would like to meet him first, before I decide.”
“That would be wise.”
“What do you suppose he’ll make of a girl who can shoot better than he can?”
“I think in your case, he will expect nothing less.”
Mary shifted seats, came to sit on the bench by her mother, being careful not to disturb Eleanor, and put her head on Marian’s shoulder to try to sleep a little.