None comes ever to my door,
Or stirs the rushes on my floor.
Only memory with me stays.
Alden eyed the words, frowning. He decided that he was too ambiguous, and added,When I say “thought of you,” I meant that the words applied to me, and how I feel around you. Not that they applied to you.
Was that making it less clear? He was unsure, but decided to slide the note under her bedroom door and hope that she understood what it was he was trying to say. After all, she’d had a pretty good sense about his thoughts thus far; no doubt she’d get the reference.
He was halfway down the hall when he turned around, went back to his room, and on a piece of scratch paper, wrote,The poem is by Ethel Clifford, by the way. Just in case you thought I’d written it.
An hour later, his knuckles were scraped raw from stripping the stained and mildewed wallpaper from the old music room. Twice he slipped with the putty knife he was using to peel off the wallpaper, leaving him with a couple of bloody gouges on his left hand.
“Son of a—”
“None of that, now, there are ladies present!”
Alden jumped at the loud voice, spinning around to see Barry Butcher’s eyebrows at the door, with Barry not far behind. He had a big smile on his red face, and clutched in one hand the size of a respectable ham was the arm of a slight woman with short red hair, a pair of expensive sunglasses, and lips the color of lacquered cherries. “Oh... I... erm...”
“Knew you wouldn’t mind if I dropped by to give you the latest report by the HTC, and found this young lady wandering around looking for you.” Barry released the woman’s arm, glancing around curiously. “Stripping the walls, eh? Needs it.”
“Yes to both. Er... are you here for the medieval classes?” Alden asked the woman. Everything about the woman reeked money, from her stylish wedge sandals to the chiffon summer dress and a handbag with a well-known name.
“Heavens, no.” She pulled the sunglasses down, her bright red lips parting to reveal very white teeth. Her eyes, a rather unremarkable shade of brown, twinkled at him. “I’m Lisa Hauf, and I’m here to help out.”
“Me?” Alden stared at her for a few seconds, trying to work out who she was, and what she wanted. Just as he was about to ask those questions, it struck him—this was Alice’s friend.Thiswas the woman she had chosen specially for him. He fought back the urge to make some excuse and run from the room, taking a couple of deep breaths while remembering what Mercy had said about her experience at college. If she could stand an embarrassing scene, then he could deal with this situation. “Ah. You’re from... yes.”
“Wish I could get this kind of help aroundmyhouse,” Barry said with a loud bark of laughter. “Lucky sod. Well, now. Here’s the report I promised you yesterday. I think you’ll find our research on the nesting grounds of the Hairy Tit is above and beyond what you’d expect to see. We really pulled out all the stops on it, and I just know you’ll read it and see the reason behind our offer. Which still stands, by the way. I had a little chat with the board last night, and they all feel it’s vital to the well-being of the tit to spend the money on the land.”
“Tit?” Lisa slid a questioning look toward Barry. “Did Ihearthat correctly?”
“It’s a wee bird about so big,” Barry said, indicating three inches. “Very rare, and makes their home here at Bestwood in the north pasture. It’s all in the report—a qualitative analysis of the likelihood of survival if the Bestwood nesting area is disturbed, and a point-by-point examination of the offer to purchase the land for preservation.”
“How very interesting.” Lisa turned to Alden, her eyes doing a smiling thing at him that instantly tied his tongue up tight. “Dumplin’, my feet arekillingme. Is there somewhere I can get into something a little more suited to work?” She had a Southern U.S. accent, one Alden thought of as being stereotypical Deep South, but with an odd habit of stressing certain words.
With a start, Alden remembered his manners, and murmured a welcome, and that he’d be happy to show her to a room.
“I can see I’mde trop,” Barry said with an obvious wink at Alden. “So I’ll take myself off. Give me a call if you have any questions. I’ll be back tomorrow to discuss with you some recent geographical survey results that we have showing just how fragile the ecosystem is for the poor little tits.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Alden started to object, but Barry cut him off.
“No trouble at all. It’s worth taking the time to ensure you’re fully cognizant of what our plan is, and why it’s so important that we save the tits for future generations.”
Lisa snickered. Alden was too distressed by the arrival of Alice’s protégée to appreciate the assumedly unwitting pun. “This way,” he said miserably, and accompanied Lisa to the habitable wing, showing her an available room.
“Oh, it’s charming, just charming,” she said, glancing around the powder blue room containing only a dark Victorian bedstead and mattress, a massive wardrobe that was no doubt too large to get through the doors, and a broken ladder-back chair with only three legs. “A little sparse on the furnishings, but I could just eat it up with aspoon—it’s so cute.”
Alden murmured something about finding her blankets and bed linens.
“That would be much appreciated,” Lisa said, strolling around the room, her fingers trailing along the blue and white patterned wallpaper. “I do hope you’ll show me around the rest of the house this afternoon. I’dloveto see the rest of it. That nice Mr. Butcher, bless his heart, says you are renovating? I dolovethe thought of a historical home being brought back to life for all to enjoy.”
Panic swamped him, leaving him a bit startled by the strength of the emotion. He might not be comfortable around women, but he seldom felt quitesouncomfortable. He took firm control of his emotions, and said, “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“No? But I will be so very sad if you can’t find a few minutes to spend showing me around your wonderful house. And speaking of wonderful, this room has lovely dimensions. I can just picture it done over in shades of rose and a pale gold. Perhaps with a touch of cream? Ah, I see I have a view of the garden. Or is it the garden? Some sort of event seems to be taking place out there. Is it a fete?”
“No, that’s—” Alden paused, a thought occurring to him. “That’s a medieval combat fair. That’s why I can’t show you around the house. I will be down with the medieval combat class. In fact...” He made a show of looking at his watch. “In fact, I should be down there now. You’re more than welcome to poke around the house as you like. The kitchen is on the ground floor, on the south side. Please help yourself to anything there. Tea is in the cupboard above the electric kettle. If you wish to know more about the house, you can visit Lady Sybilla. She’s also on the ground floor, in the west wing.”
While speaking, he had been sidling toward the door, a sense of relief swamping him when he reached it.
