“Those, too,” she said. “Though I am going to have to stop eating so much. My clothes will not fit me if I do not stop.”
He looked at her, noting her curvy figure with generous hips, slender waist, and full breasts. “Lass, you donothave to stop eating,” he said seductively. “I like you just the way you are, and you know it.”
She looked at him, knowing exactly what was on his mind. It was on it every day, and when they retired every evening, he let her know just how much he loved the body she had developed. But it went both ways—she’d learned to crave him as well, even catching him out in a lesser-known outbuilding once and initiating what had been quite a passionate rendezvous. He still talked about it. But as he waggled his eyebrows at her, she put her fingers to his lips to silence him.
“Hush,” she said, looking around. “You’ll not titillate me when there’s nothing we can do about it.”
He laughed low. “Apologies,” he said. “But the truth is that I cannot help it.”
“You’d better help it or you’ll make us both miserable.”
“Why?”
“Because we cannot do anything about it.”
He shrugged. “True,” he said. “But speaking of miserable, are you feeling better this morning?”
She shrugged. “A little,” she said. “I do not know why I’ve not been feeling well the past few days, but I feel better today. I’ll feel even better once I’ve eaten.”
“You still do not think that I need to summon a physic?”
“For what?” she asked as if it was a ridiculous suggestion. “There is nothing wrong with me. It would be a waste of money.”
He simply squeezed her hand, looking ahead to the bakers’ alley. There were four bakers on a small courtyard and two enormous ovens between them, going at full speed this morning. Smoke from the oven fires was blasting into the sky as the bakers worked the ovens and their stalls. Elle knew which stall she wanted, and she headed off to her right, straight into a stall where a husband and wife made braided bread with milk and honey, tarts with quince or raisins, and little cakes with oats and apples and cinnamon. Those were her favorite.
And the bakers knew it. They saw her coming in and were already pulling out the honey bread and the oatcakes. They put everything into a basket for her, and she took it gleefully while Curtis paid them well. When she wouldn’t share with him, the husband gave Curtis one of the oatcakes, and he took it appreciatively. He followed Elle out into the courtyard, where there were benches beneath an enormous yew tree, and as she sat down, he shoved the oatcake into his mouth for fear he would have to hand it over to her when she realized he had it.
“What more do you wish, my love?” he asked, mouth full. “I can see if the baker on the corner has any baked eggs left.”
Elle was already tearing into the honey bread. “I would like that,” she said, shoving the soft inside of the bread into her mouth. “Is it wicked of me not to want to share this with Melly?”
“Nay, it is not wicked.”
“She can procure her own, can’t she?”
“She can,” he said. “Asa can buy it for her. Moreover, you do not even share with me. If you feel wicked about something, let it be about that.”
She gave him a naughty little grin, one that had him smiling back. He swallowed the bite in his mouth, patting her on the head as he headed in the direction of the baker who sometimes had baked eggs with cream and cheese. He didn’t do it often, so Curtis didn’t have high hopes as he entered the stall. He asked the man about the eggs and was delighted to be told that there was some left. Curtis purchased all of it, wolfing down about half before his wife saw it because once she had it in her hands, the chances of him getting anything were slim.
As he’d said, she wasn’t apt to share.
Therefore, he was trying not to look like he was licking his lips when he brought the eggs back to her. The branches above were blowing gently in the breeze as he handed her the eggs, set in a bowl made of dried, woven grass. Elle was thrilled for the eggs and began eating them with gusto as Curtis looked around to the other bakers to see what they had to offer. One baker seemed to have two pieces of bread, very large pieces, with some kind of meat in between them. He turned to Elle to ask if she wanted some of it, only to see that she had vomited on the tree trunk.
Quickly, he picked up the bread and the remaining eggs from her lap as she struggled not to vomit again.
“I’m sorry, love,” he said, brushing tendrils of hair away from her face so she wouldn’t soil them. “What happened?”
Elle had the back of her hand to her mouth, eyes closed as she struggled not to vomit again. “I do not know,” she said breathlessly. “I thought if I ate, I would feel better. Everything was fine, and then… it just came back up.”
Curtis was sympathetic, grasping her arm and helping her to stand so she wouldn’t get any vomit on her skirt. “That settles it,” he said. “I’m going to find a physic. Is there one in the village?”
She nodded weakly. “The apothecary is also the physic,” she said. “Mayhap… mayhap he has a potion to help. I suppose I am not beyond seeking something to settle my stomach.”
“We shall go and see him.”
Elle was upset about the wasted food. “Look at this mess,” she said sadly. “I must have eaten something that had gone bad and not realized it. Now, the poison will not leave me. It is the only explanation.”
Curtis had his arm around her as he walked her out of the courtyard. “That is probably all it is.”
