“What? No, I don’t.”
“But ye do.”
“I think I would know if I had a forge.” His hand gestures grew larger in his frustration and, as they did, her eyes grew wider and unseeing, her lips thinner.
“Xander,” I interrupted.
He turned to me, flustered.
“Why don’t we make sure Miss Gillan will have enough to eat?”
“What?”
“I’ll help her get settled in. Why don’t you see about some luncheon and after, we’ll make a list of what needs done.”
“But… Fine.”
He pressed open the door and turned to stare at it in astonishment before making his way down the hall.
The girl still wore an unsettled look.
“Thank you. For fixing the door. You did nice work.”
“Needs a new hinge.”
“I’m certain you’re right.”
“There is a forge.”
“All right. Do you want to show me, and we can see what it needs to be functional?”
She nodded, her gaze somewhere over my ear. Before I realized she’d agreed, she began to wander off in the direction of where I assumed the stables were.
“The door looks nice,” I added, still trying to smooth over any upset.
She shrugged.
“I’m certain His Grace is deeply appreciative.”
Her pace increased and I was left to keep up.
“Xand— His Grace has had an eventful few days. We all have.”
No response, beyond her breezy breaths as I panted beside her, desperate to keep up.
We rounded a bend and the stables appeared behind a copse of trees. They could use a few repairs as well but, astonishingly, were in better condition than the house itself. I suspected the use of sturdier, less ornate woods and materials left the structure more prepared to withstand the elements. The last remnants of a path continued over a small hill.
As we crested the hill, a small forge came into view below. It was open on the sides, with a massive hearth, long cold.
Miss Gillan finally slowed as we approached, then reached to drag a hand along the smooth metal of the anvil before inspecting the tools I knew neither the name or use of.
She nodded, mid-toned curls bouncing along her forehead. “This’ll do.”
“All right…”
We set off back up the hill, the morning’s events catching up with me. I couldn’t lament last night’s lack of rest, not after the events of the morning, but both my body and head had been through a great deal.
Rather than slow as we neared the house, Miss Gillan strode right over to my approximation of a sheepfold. She made a critical tut before grasping my post and yanking it from the earth in one smooth motion.
