‘I am aware of the fact.’
Harlan’s eyebrows rose. ‘You are?’
Thomas stood and began pacing. ‘Every merchant in the borough is showing up at that gate asking for something.’
The lord appeared to be in his late forties. He still had a good head of hair, which he wore long and combed neatly to one side. His straight back was held in place by an expensive waistcoat.
‘The merchants are doing it tough,’ Harlan said. ‘They’re surviving on whatever they can forage or grow right now.’
‘Are not we all?’
Harlan looked out the large glass window to where chickens roamed beneath bare fruit trees. Rinderpest had swept through the borough, killing all the oxen, but many families still kept goats. Judging by how taut the buttons of Thomas’s waistcoat were, they were getting by just fine.
‘Do you know how expensive meat is at the moment?’ Thomas went on. ‘Pure extortion.’
Harlan looked down at the table. ‘At least you have the option to purchase it.’ He could not bear to listen to the man complain about the cost.
‘You cannot buy live cattle, mind you. It seems they can only survive on the superior water in the farming borough.’ Thomas shook his head at the injustice.
‘Water is one way murrain is spread. The farmers have figured out how to contain outbreaks.’ Harlan rested his elbows on the table. ‘Perhaps you would like me to deliver a hen to the Suttone family on your behalf.’
Thomas stopped walking and looked at him. ‘Absolutely not. It will be stolen before it has a chance to lay. I hear the stories coming out of that borough. Rife with crime. Besides, I am responsible for the people residing in this manor foremost.’
‘I see.’ Harlan rose. ‘Would you like me to deliver a response to the family?’
‘That will not be necessary. I will travel there in person when my schedule permits.’
When his schedule permits?Harlan barely trusted himself to speak. ‘I shall see myself out.’
Thomas took a seat. ‘I apologise for your wasted time, Commander.’
Outside, a groom waited with his horse. Harlan took the reins and thanked him, and the boy retreated to the stables. As Harlan prepared to mount, he spotted a flock of chickens scratching at what was once a green lawn but was now a muddy swamp. He glanced in the direction of the house before leading his horse over to them. If Lord Thomas was not prepared to sacrifice one hen to help his family, Harlan would simply take it.
As he reached for the closest hen, a throat clearing stopped him in his tracks. He turned to find a young woman standing on the path that surrounded the house, watching him.
‘Afternoon,’ he said, taking a step back from the hen.
‘Commander Wright,’ she said.
Harlan vaguely recognised the face but could not remember her name to save himself.
‘Lady Kendra,’ she said, helping him out.
‘Of course.’ He tried not to look like a man who was about to steal a chicken and stuff it into his saddlebag. ‘Lovely place you have here.’
‘With lovely fat hens,’ Kendra said, a smile on her lips. ‘You brought my father news of my aunt and cousins, did you not?’
Harlan glanced in the direction of the house. ‘That’s right.’
‘And? How are they faring?’
He moved closer to his horse. ‘Perhaps it’s best you ask your father.’ He suspected the newswouldaffect her and did not want to be the one to tell her. If she cried, he would be forced to watch on awkwardly.
‘I am asking you, Commander,’ Kendra said. ‘What say you to an exchange?’ She moved closer. ‘The information you delivered for one of my healthy birds.’
He really did not want to get messed up in family politics, but he wanted the hen.
‘Do not fret, Commander,’ she continued. ‘My father will not hear a word about it.’
