Elinor and Bronwen if he wasn’t mistaken.
There…he saw a blonde head walking along a small path towards the forest.
It must have been her…and…wait…?
He frowned, blinked, and stared again.
She was completely alone.
Chapter Three
She had to be a little “simple”, he thought was the correct word to use. It was the only logical solution. She had inventedor imagined herself at a London ball, and made herself the heroine of the hour. And then related the tale to an invisible friend, pretending to be the other voice?
Caleb had spent a good portion of the afternoon puzzling over what he’d seen and heard, and it was still on his mind as he shrugged into his jacket and headed down to the small parlour he favoured for his meals when at the Abbey alone.
“Your dinner awaits, my Lord,” Baglan Deryn bowed gracefully as his master came downstairs to the hall.
“Deryn, you are a gift from the Gods. I could definitely eat a horse, since I worked up an appetite clearing away what felt like half a forest.” He wriggled his shoulders. “Still does.”
The tall man, who was at least a head above his master, merely nodded. “Exercise is always good for the mind and the body, sir. As you well know.”
“Indeed.”
“However, you will be pleased to know that there is nothing equine on this evening’s menu.”
Caleb grinned. “You relieve me.”
He took his seat at the small table and sniffed. “Well, whatever it is, it smells wonderful. Please tell Mrs Deryn once again that if she decides to leave you, I shall wed her in an instant for her cooking alone.”
He took a piece of warm bread and let Deryn serve him some soup, both of which were—as always—delicious. “Mmm”. He nodded and smiled. “Good.”
“She will be pleased to hear your sentiments, sir.” The butler offered a few letters. “As always, the delivery of any communication seems to only take place when that lazy lad in the village feels like indulging himself in a stroll.” He sighed. “However, these letters arrived earlier. If you would like to read them now? Or I can put them by the fire in your study…”
“I might as well look at them now. If any contain matters which might put me off my meal, I’ll be sure to leave those well enough alone.”
“Very good, sir.” Deryn bowed himself out.
Caleb glanced at the small pile of letters as he finished his soup. He could have enjoyed another bowl, but his nose told him there was a fresh pork pie waiting for him, and perhaps roasted potatoes as well. So he rummaged beneath the covered dishes, and settled back into his chair with a substantial meal on his plate.
Glancing to his side, he could see that the top two letters bore the marks of a familiar source.
J. Worthy & Sons, Publishers.
He smiled. It was about time he heard news from Jonas Worthy. Even if it was only a few lines about his son Freddy, it would still be an interesting read.
Freddy, who was of Caleb’s own age, give or take a few months, had become a close friend several years ago, when both were finishing their education by doing the Grand Tour.
Caleb had dragged a semi-lucid Freddy out of a disreputable inn one eventful night in Greece. In return, Freddy had managed to extract Caleb from a certain Spanish lady’s bedroom when her husband had arrived home unexpectedly.
Such adventures formed a bond between the two, and Caleb was glad of it. He didn’t make friends easily, so any news or letters from one of the few he had was very welcome.
In addition, Freddy’s family had been of the utmost help with Caleb’s recent endeavours. He hoped that one of these missives might contain the news he had awaited for at least two months, if not more.
His thoughts turned to that matter, and he ate his meal, appreciating the flavours, but with half his mind elsewhere.
The pirate, he thought. He needed to consider the pirate’s role, since it could well be pivotal and affect so much of what lay ahead.
Finishing his repast with a fresh peach, Caleb sighed with pleasure as his astute and prompt butler reappeared.
