“Our own mint?” asked Adalyn, dousing the lamb on her plate with the rich green liquid.
“Of course,” he replied. “I picked it fresh this morning. It’s tucked into a little space where it will get sun, but also protected from the worst of the snow and cold.”
The conversation turned to spices, herbs and gardening, and Adalyn broached the notion of walling in more of the kitchen garden to offer additional protection for the tender plants.
Giles looked intrigued, but referred it to Daniel for cost outlay thoughts—and thus the meal passed with talk ranging around the table, ideas being shuffled back and forth, and the general business of Wolfbridge providing fodder for the six sharing the bounty of their land.
Adalyn remained silent more often than not, enjoying the sound of male voices as they discussed, argued, joked and exchanged thoughts. There seemed no acrimony amongst the men; to her surprise they all treated each other with respect, a measure of affection such as gentlemen were wont to display, and listened to every opinion or suggestion with interest.
She wondered if this was unique, or perhaps just something she’d not experienced. Even Giles, older and more mature though he was, took part in the conversation willingly, unafraid to ask questions or give his own thoughts on some matter.
She couldn’t help contrasting it with the silent meals she’d grown up with. Her father had insisted that any communication at the table should be of a modest or reflective nature, and if such topics could not be found, then silence would be the preferred alternative.
It had been repressive, she realised. How wonderful it would have been to be able to ask her father and mother questions over an evening meal. To talk with them about things that interested her and to listen to their conversation over similar topics. But that had never happened. She had grown up thinking all meals should be eaten without comment, and her marriage had not altered her beliefs, since her new husband had managed to be mostly drunk by dinnertime and either loudly abrasive or silent with the fog of alcohol surrounding him. On the rare occasions when he was still sober, he would look at her with an expression in his eyes that she found unsettling because it forewarned her of the night to come. And sure enough, her assumption would be proved correct.
Such a short marriage. But so much pain and disillusionment within those few days.
She sighed and Giles must have caught the slight sound, since he turned to her with a question. “If my Lady will permit…perhaps tea in the parlour?”
She smiled. “And brandy for the gentlemen?”
There was a murmur of agreement.
“With your permission,” grinned Giles.
Adalyn rose, as did the men. “Then in that case, of course. And perhaps a wee drop for me as well, rather than tea…”
“You are most thoughtful, my Lady,” smiled Evan. “A lovely way to end the evening.”
Giles snuffed out the candles on the table and covered the remaining dishes.
“Let me make sure everything is tight, Giles,” said Evan. “There might be a hungry mouse or two, and I’d rather not encourage them.”
“Join us when you’re ready, Evan,” said Adalyn. “And thank you for a delicious meal.”
Since the fire had been burning all day, the parlour was warm and the soft chairs most welcome. Adalyn felt she’d done little enough today, and that the gentlemen probably relished the chance to relax in comfort even more than she did, but it didn’t diminish the oddly wonderful moments she was experiencing.
Giles poured her a small brandy, and she sipped, wrinkling her nose at first, then widening her eyes and staring at him as the liquor warmed her from within.
“Oh my goodness,” she held a hand to her heart. “That is quite…potent.”
There were smiles and chuckles.
“Indeed, my Lady. Many a man—and woman—have found themselves laid low by the subtlety of it.” Trick saluted her with his glass.
She rose, attracted by a portrait to one side of the fireplace. “Giles, who is this? Do you know?”
He nodded. “That is Lady Panthea. Our last mistress.”
“She is very beautiful,” observed Adalyn, gazing at the reddish blonde curls and the sapphire blue silk of an evening gown that emphasized a fine bosom and creamy skin.
“She still is,” Evan answered. “She moved away when she married. We missed her, of course, but we all wished her happiness. She found it.”
“How lovely.” Adalyn smiled. “A local gentleman?”
For a moment there was silence.
“You might say so, yes,” Giles stepped into the breach. “However, they do keep in touch now and again.”
