‘Nowyou choose to visit?’ Presley said.
Astin stopped at the edge of the bog. ‘Good to see you too.’
‘It’s all right, Rose. It’s just your silly brother.’
His youngest sister’s expression changed from wary to curious. ‘Is that your wife?’
Lyndal immediately let go of Astin’s arm. ‘Fletcher remains blissfully unwed.’ She walked over to the girl and bent down, gently squeezing her bicep. ‘Just as I suspected. Much stronger than your brother.’
Rose giggled.
‘I’m Lyndal, by the way.’ She extended a hand, and Rose took hold of it.
‘He’s stuck really good this time.’
Lyndal turned to face the exhausted bull. ‘I see that.’
‘You going to help or what?’ Presley called to Astin.
‘I’m in uniform.’
She let out an exasperated breath. ‘We couldn’t have a defender muddying up his boots, now could we? Do they still regularly sweep the wall walks so you can stroll debris-free up there?’
Astin was about to reply but stopped when he spotted Lyndal unlacing her boots. ‘What are you doing?’
She tugged one off. ‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to help.’
Presley’s eyebrows rose. ‘I like her.’
‘This is Lady Lyndal the third of Cardelle Manor,’ Astin said.
Presley flattened her palms on the bull’s rump. ‘Fancy.’
Lyndal threw the second bootathim. ‘Except I’ve never lived at Cardelle Manor.’
‘I’ve heard about you,’ Presley said, pushing. ‘You’re the merchant girl everyone’s been talking about. The only woman to capture the king’s short attention span.’
‘You’ll have to forgive my sister for speaking poorly of our king,’ Astin said.
Lyndal began unbuttoning her skirt. ‘Don’t worry. I have very selective hearing.’
‘Stop,’ Astin said. ‘If the king finds you standing in the mud with your clothes off, he won’t be pleased.’
Ignoring him, Lyndal stepped into the mud and sucked in a breath. ‘Goodness, it’s colder than I realised.’
Rose was watching Astin, waiting to see what he would do next. With a heavy sigh, he removed his boots and socks, rolled up his trousers, and followed them into the mud.
‘What do you weigh?’ Astin asked Lyndal over the top of the bull. ‘You’re probably the equivalent of two sacks of flour?’
‘That’s a very rude question to ask a lady.’
‘This bull weighs at least fifteen times that. I’m just doing the math.’
‘Ready?’ Presley asked.
Lyndal reached a hand around the bull, and Astin reluctantly took hold of it. ‘Speak up if anything doesn’t feel right. I don’t want you injured.’
‘He dislocated my shoulder once,’ Presley said.
