Defiantly, damning him for everything he was, she headed upstairs. A moment later she ran back down again, tee shirt over her costume and towel in her hand, and made for the cooling waters of the pool.
Lycos was strolling in the gardens. He’d intended to fetch his laptop from the boot of his car, but as he’d headed outdoors, refreshed after his shower, the early evening air had drawn him into the gardens instead. He stepped down to the lower levels of terracing, inhaled the heady scent of lavender and watchedthe sun lowering behind the trees. From far away he thought he could hear cattle lowing and the faint, plaintive bleat of sheep. As he made his way back up to the top level, he realised he could hear the sound of water lapping. Curious, he glanced through to the pool area.
Arielle was swimming. Not as he had swum, with vigorous freestyle, but with a slow and graceful breaststroke. Her head was up out of the water with her hair piled up on top. All he could see of her was her shoulders and the dim outline of her body beneath the surface. He watched her for a moment as she headed away from him, unaware of his observation, and then he let her be as he went back to exploring the grounds of his new possession.
Returning via the courtyard, he entered the house by the kitchen door, drawn by the appetising aroma of the dinner cooking. He picked up the long wooden spoon resting on a plate and lifted the heavy lid of the iron pan, starting to stir the contents.
‘What are you doing?’
The voice from the doorway was sharp.
He looked round, unperturbed. Arielle stood there in the doorframe, glaring at him.
‘Giving it a stir,’ he said.
‘It’s fine,’ came the retort.
His eyes went to her. She had a towel wrapped around her, and was dripping on the tiled kitchen floor.
‘It smells good,’ he said.
‘I’m glad you approve.’
Lycos ignored the sardonic note. ‘When you’ve showered and dressed you can share that aperitif with me,’ he said.
‘I’ve got to feed the hens first and lock them up. And the ducks,’ she retorted.
‘Well, when you’ve done that you can share that aperitif with me,’ Lycos amended. ‘I’ll give you a hand with the poultry. Mathilde and Maurice may not come quietly,’ he added, with a twist of humour.
‘No, they come with a lot of quacking and a great deal of expectation of being fed as well as locked up for the night!’
Lycos’s eyes glinted. ‘You see, you can do humour too, if you put your mind to it,’ he said.
Immediately, her expression tightened. Saying nothing, she walked past him and a moment later he heard her padding up the stairs. He went back to stirring thebourguignon. He should not have teased her, it had been unkind of him.
Today has not been good for her.
He set aside the wooden spoon, replaced the heavy lid and walked to the kitchen door. The daylight was definitely fading now and evening was starting to gather. So, he realised with a sudden tug at his mouth, were the hens. He could see several pecking about near the gateway, clearly knowing it was their suppertime. One particularly bold, or hungry, hen headed towards him making a clucking noise.
‘Not me,madame,’ he said apologetically. He watched a while as, unwilling to believe he did not have her feed about his person, the hen pecked near his feet, at what he did not know. Upstairs he heard the sound of shower water. Then, moments later, it cut out. He leant against the doorframe, relaxing against it. It really was very peaceful here, the evening air soft and warm. His eyes went to his car, visible through the open gateway. It seemed quite out of place.
A peck at his feet distracted him. He glanced down. The hen had clearly not believed him.
‘Madame,’ he informed her apologetically. ‘That is my shoe, not your dinner!’
A voice behind him spoke. ‘That’s Hortense—she’s always first in the line.’
Arielle was coming into the kitchen, dressed now. She’d put on long cotton trousers and a light, but long-sleeved sweatshirt, both in blue. The colour matched her eyes, Lycos noted absently, making them look even bluer. Even more beautiful.
‘Their feed is kept in the barn,’ she said.
Lycos watched her head across the courtyard, opening the feedstore door and emerging with a metal bowl filled with corn. Immediately she was surrounded by the entire flock of hens, clucking loudly. She led them into the hen- house, their wings flapping eagerly. Moments later she backed out, shutting them in and locking the door with a lowered bar. Then she turned around.
‘Time for Maurice and Mathilde,’ she announced, heading back into the grain store to emerge again with the refilled bowl. A noisy quacking filled the air and suddenly Maurice and Mathilde were bustling forward from the direction of the pool, necks outstretched.
‘They sleep next door to the hens,’ Arielle said and led them into the duck-house, repeating the procedure as with the hens.
‘All done,’ she said, replacing the now empty bowl back in the grain store.
