“You needn’t cover yourself with me,” he replied, stroking the calluses. “Stay here. I have something to make this feel better.”
When he returned, Amy was gazing out the window, her brow creased as she looked towards the trees in the distance. Of what was she afraid?
She startled at his return, and he was careful to approach her slowly. He stopped when moving closer would have pressed against her skirts.
“A salve for sore…well, sore cows,” he said, showing her the jar of udder balm prepared by his housekeeper.
“Is that what I am?” she asked. “A heifer?”
Erasmus sputtered until he realized she was struggling to contain a chuckle. What a world. His wife could laugh!
“Now, Amy Mangevileyn, we both know that’s not true,” he said, taking a dollop of the ointment and letting it melt on the back of her hand. “You’re more of a ewe.”
She dipped her head and giggled — actually giggled — as he rubbed the places her skin was still sore and scarred.
“I’m not a barnyard animal,” she said, trying to sound stern, but her voice belied her amusement. “But Iwasa laundress.”
“I knew you were a hard-working lass,” he said, massaging between her fingers. “But those days are over.”
“I’ve no problem working hard,” she said, suddenly serious.
“We’ll find something for you to do,” he said.
Her eyes met his, and he suspected his face had flushed because of the many ways to interpret those words.
Chapter 4
Three days later, Amywaited at Erasmus’s study door, where she watched Theodosia conclude her Latin lesson.
“Farewell for now, Pater,” she said to Erasmus, giving him a kiss on the cheek before gliding out with a nod to Amy.
She was a funny little thing, sometimes a miniature adult and sometimes a child. Like her father, she had a lingering sadness in her eyes that Amy wished she could somehow magic away.
“Have you come to practice, young lady?” asked Erasmus from the other side of the door, suddenly appearing in front of her.
Today, he wore spectacles. She had a difficult time concentrating when he wore the wire-framed glasses. It must have been the glare from the metal.
“You’ve brought your sampler?” he asked.
She held up the book of reading exercises and allowed him to draw her in.
***
“You’ve done very well,” said Erasmus at the end of their lesson, taking off his spectacles and rubbing his eyes. He’d risen early to oversee the haymaking so he could return for lessons in the afternoon. Poor man, he was working so hard between caring for Phin and managing the farm.
He was sitting in the chair behind his grand desk, a fine thing made of oak, polished to a shine by the Abbey’s capable staff. Erasmus was a man in his element, relaxed and surrounded by books.
Amy was staring at his wrists when she realized he’d said something.
“You’ve become quite the reader, my girl,” he repeated when she stood to leave.
My girl. It was a tiny, throwaway expression, an endearment used by shopkeepers and even men of the cloth thoughtlessly, with no real meaning. But to one such as Amy Abel Mangevileyn, it sounded like a benediction.
She’d not been anyone’s girl in that loving way since losing her papa eight years before.
Eager to dispel any awkwardness caused by her woolgathering, she bustled behind her husband’s desk, planted a kiss on his cheek as she’d seen Thea do, and said, “Farewell for now, Daddy.”
She was only half a step away when Erasmus caught her by the hand and pinned her against the edge, his thighs spread to cage her in.
