Fresh bread from Evan, of course. Some early berries—tart but juicy—and cheese. She hoped he was well fed, and Jane had reassured her he was being treated properly in all regards.
But she worried, in spite of everything. She’d also added parchment and charcoal pencils to the basket. Perhaps he might like to sketch something—to while away what must be long and empty hours by using his talents to create his magical art.
Adalyn shivered a little as she remembered his drawings—and the one she’d planned on asking him to do of her. Would it ever happen?
If she and everyone at Wolfbridge could find more answers about the Fairhurst business, then yes, it could happen. They had to find something that would free Trick, but she felt no closer to that than she did the day he was taken.
After half an hour’s journey, she saw a scattering of small houses through the window and realised that they’d arrived.
Her driver knew where to go and within moments they pulled up at the aptly named Roundhouse, a sturdy building that was square in the front with a large round protuberance at the back.
“Here we are, m’Lady.” The driver came to the side of the carriage. “Yer goes right in there.” He pointed to the old oak slab that resembled the portcullis to a small castle more than it did a door.
“Thank you.” She allowed him to help her down. “I will be an hour at most.”
“I’ll be ‘ere, Ma’am.” He touched his cap respectfully and passed her the basket.
She walked in, her heart in her mouth, not knowing what to expect.
It was a surprise, and not an unpleasant one.
There was a desk, with papers on it, some shelves, what looked like a very large and ancient cabinet which probably housed a hundred years’ worth of records, and an elderly man rising to his feet.
“Good day, Ma’am.” He bowed, a genteel move betraying his heritage. He was a gentleman, without question.
“Good day to you sir,” she dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I am Lady Wilkerson of Wolfbridge Manor and I would be most pleased to be able to visit with my head groom, who is currently residing in your Roundhouse.”
“Ah, yes. Our Trick. Pleasant lad. It may sound a bit strange, but I have enjoyed having him here. We’ve had a few lively discussions of an evening.”
Adalyn’s tension eased a little at his words.
“Come this way, if you would…” He led her into a narrow passageway that headed away from the office area. “He’s lucky it is spring. We have yet to come up with a good way to heat this place when the weather gets very cold.”
She noticed the stone walls and understood his comment.
They reached the end and turned to the right where a barred door allowed light through into the passage.
“Visitor for you, Trick…” The gentleman called out politely, took a bunch of keys from a hook high on the wall behind him, and unlocked the door.
Adalyn stepped inside and looked around the corner.
There he was, rising with a look of wonder on his face. “Adalyn,” he whispered.
She held her finger to her lips and motioned over her shoulder with her head.
He nodded. “My Lady. This is a signal honour. Won’t you sit? I cannot say how delighted I am to see you…”
The door clanged shut as she walked to Trick.
“Call when you’re done, Ma’am.” The elderly voice sounded hollow as it echoed against the thick walls.
“I will. Thank you, sir.” She called back as she sat on a bench formed by stones at the bottom of what must be the outside wall. Trick joined her and took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly and dropping a kiss on her knuckles.
She reached out to touch his face, hesitant lest they be observed.
“Is this all right?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he murmured back. “I cannot be seen unless I move to the door area.”
