Page 60 of An Ill-Made Match

Her eyes flew to his. “When?”

“Cuthbert and I will need to set off tomorrow early.”

She looked up at him blankly. “I see.”

“We’ll be gone likely three or four days. Maybe five.”

“Five!” Eden looked alarmed.

“Will you miss me then, wife?”

“It’s not that,” said Eden with exasperation. “I have no books nor instruments for music! No loom for tapestry making. How am I to spend my days?” Roland felt a twinge of irritation. “Is there even pen and ink for writing?” she carried on heedless of his darkening mood. “What am I to do with myself?”

Roland shrugged. “I could see about ordering you some such things when I’m on my travels,” he suggested.

“I suppose I could take walks, or ride if the weather permits,” Eden said, distractedly glancing out of the nearest slitted window.

“Not too far,” Roland cautioned. “And you’ll need to take a couple of dogs for attendants.”

Eden’s eyes widened. “Do you get many strangers hereabouts?”

“You never know,” Roland heard himself warn direly, even though it was very rare in this out of the way spot.

“Castor still does not like me,” Eden reminded him looking ruffled. “I would only be able to rely on Parnell and Seth.”

“Maybe it would be a good notion to should show you the nearest paths this afternoon,” Roland heard himself say, though he’d had no such intent just moments ago.

Eden perked up at that. “Could you show me the route to the village?”

“You would not go there alone,” said Roland firmly.

“What if Fulco were to accompany me?” she asked. Roland remembered glibly telling Fulco that his mistress would not give him too much trouble and felt a pang of guilt. “Or maybe this girl from the village would be agreeable?”

“She might at that,” he agreed. “And don’t forget you’re expecting a visitor.” With a bit of luck he’d miss having to meet their nosy neighbor.

Eden’s aspect brightened. “Oh yes! The Lady Orla. That’s true.”

“I daresay you’ll find plenty to occupy yourself with.” For some reason, the notion did not overly please him. She should, he thought, pine a little for her absentee husband of one week.

Eden seemed oblivious to his displeasure. “Will we walk or ride?”

“Walk.”

And walk they did, at least six miles in a circular route encompassing part of the woods and one of the neighboring slopes. Castor and Hector remained on guard, but they took the other four dogs with them and they gamboled about, as Roland threw sticks for them and encouraged them to jump into the stream.

“Won’t they get muddy?” Eden objected as her favorite, Parnell, stood poised in indecision on a large rock, barking.

“They need a clean. Otherwise someone will have to bath them at some point.”

Eden shrieked as Nudd shook his gingery fur dry next to her, splattering her with droplets of water.

“Here, Nudd,” Roland whistled, leading him to green grass to roll in. The dog’s tongue lolled out as he lay panting on the grassy bank.

“Don’t you miss them when you’re at the palace?” Eden asked curiously. Seth dropped a stick at her feet, and she gingerly retrieved it, wiped it with her handkerchief and then threw it in the opposite direction. He bounded after it, closely chased by Dimon.

“Of course.”

“Then why do you not keep at least one of them with you?”