A romantic medieval fable

Here's the start of a little romantic story for you, set somewhere in medieval England:


THE BRIDAL HOUSE

"Our fathers approve the match." He skimmed a pebble across the fish pond.

Alis watched the stone skipping across the water. Her heat-beat skipped like the stone and she prayed she was not blushing. "And you?"

She could not recall his name, but how could she not be distracted? She had woken and risen a maid, a spinster intent on learning. Now she was betrothed to this...