He smiled and leaned over the table to pat her hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of this.”
She looked around and laughed. “I still cannot believe any of it is real. You would think after a month I would be used to Uber cars and smart phones, alarms blaring and people bumping into my shoulders while I walk. But no.” She laughed again, and Arthur thought about how fair she was. She looked to be in her forties, perhaps a decade younger than he. Her hair was gray with streaks of black. She wore it long and braided and dangling down her shoulder and breast.
“What do you like the best about this century?” he asked, feeling her exuberance with her.
“T.V.! I could sit in front of it day and night!”
“Mm hmm.” He nodded and motioned to the waitress to bring more coffee.
“Oh, and wash machines! Claire would weep if she saw one!”
“Well, I don’t know who Claire is,” Arthur said, “but I wouldn’t want her to weep if she saw a washingmachine.”
“She’s the laundress at Scarborough Castle,” she continued on as if he hadn’t corrected her. “She cared for Nicky before Kes came along.”
“She gave up so easily?” he asked, then also asked the waitress for sugar and cream.
“You have not seen the way Nicholas looks at Kestrel. ’Tis as if his next breath depends on hers.”
He smiled. He liked hearing that kind of news. “So, you raised Sir Nicholas?”
“Since he was seven,” she told him, sipping her coffee black. “And oh my goodness! This!” She held up her cup and he laughed. “This is a potion of some sort. It must be! I take it back. Coffee. Coffee is the best thing. How could Kes give this up?” She took another sip then closed her eyes. She opened them an instant later and gave him a guilty look. “Well, no, I mean, how could she give you up, not coffee. Coffee is just a drink. I—”
“Elianora?”
“Aye? Yes?”
“Are you nervous?”
“Yes.” Her wide eyes changed from green to gold. “How can you tell?”
She was delightful. He couldn’t help but grin.
“Why ever would you be nervous around me? I’m not going to throw you out on the street.”
“I’m hoping to make my own money and get my own place to live.”
“Of course. Are you ready to order some breakfast?”
She nodded and ordered what he suggested. Blueberry pancakes with strawberries and bananas and whipped cream, and if she ate meat, two sausages on the side.
When their food came, he watched her eat and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. He liked the way her lips moved, and the way she marveled over the food. He especially liked the sound of her voice when she told him about his daughter. She cared for Kestrel. That meant a lot to him.
“Why don’t I take you shopping?” he suggested. “You will need some clothes when you get this job you want.” He didn’t want his time with her to end, not even for a little while. He hadn’t found anyone so easy to speak to since…Guin.
Suddenly, his heart stalled in his chest. Elia could be Guinevere and neither of them would ever know. His blood chilled in his veins. No. No, he couldn’t live with that.
He pushed his food away and sat back with his palm spread across his belly.
“What is the matter?” Elia asked.
He scrutinized her and then threw back his head and almost growled with frustration.
“Why did you want to come here?” he asked her.
“I wanted to meet you. Kes spoke of you often.”
“You don’t give up your life and your son because you want to meet someone,” he insisted.
