“Intentionally so,” he told me as his eyes flitted over me. “If all the fair maidens of the other realms knew my desire, they would rush to please me. I would marry one of them, believing a ruse.”
“And be very disappointed,” I added.
He flashed me a grin. “I would certainly refrain from showing my disappointment until after the wedding night.”
“Unless she proves to be ill-experienced in bed.”
“Indeed. In which case, the wedding will be all the shorter.”
By this time, we had reached the village and now sauntered up the main road. Little shops dotted the thoroughfare, with houses stuck between them.“Excuse me.”
We paused and turned to our left, where a young woman had just exited the grocery store. She was a pretty thing of eighteen, with thick, long brown hair tied into a tail that trailed far down her back. She had bright brown eyes and a few freckles on her otherwise unblemished cheeks. The young woman wore a plain gray and brown dress with a sash around her waist, and a basket hung from the crook of her right arm. Though I found the day rather warm, especially with how sunny it was, the woman wore a scarf around her neck.
She took a reluctant step toward us and bit her lower lip. “Are you…are you by chance the people who were asking the way to the squire’s house?”
Cassian offered her a warm smile and a nod. “We were. Do you work there?”
A faint blush accented her cheeks. “I do, sir. If you’d like, I could show you the way.”
He inclined his head. “That would be very kind of you.”
She waved a finger at the road ahead of us. “It’s this way, just a few steps.”
“First, allow me to introduce my wife and me,” Cassian insisted as he gestured to me. “This is Mrs. Grace Holt, and my name is Cassian Holt.”
She bowed her head to us. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He used a hand to gesture to her. “And might we know the name of the kind stranger who is offering her services to us?”
She perked up a little at his question. “My name is Vesta. Vesta Cornelia.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, daughter of the Cornelia clan.” He grasped my upper arms and leaned me close against his side. “Now lead on, and we shall gladly follow. My dearest wife and I have had a long journey, and your offer is very much welcome.”
We followed along behind our young guide, and I noticed Cassian’s gaze had settled on the woman’s neckwear. “Pardon my asking, but are you cold?”
Miss Cornelia turned her head, and one eye blinked at us. “Pardon?”
Cassian nodded at her scarf. “Your scarf. I couldn’t help but admire its beauty, but isn’t it rather warm?”
She reached up and clasped the ends in her fingers. I noticed her hand shook a little. “I-I am a little. My master has a very cold cellar, and I was in there all morning clearing out the empty bottles.”
Cassian offered her a gentle smile and a slight nod. “I see. May I see the scarf later? I would like my lovely wife here to knit me one, and she must study the pattern.”
A little color drained from Miss Cornelia’s cheeks. “I-I suppose so.”
“That would be most wonderful.”
I noticed Miss Cornelia quickened her step, and we soon arrived at the top of a gentle incline. The squire’s house was definitely unmistakable. It was one of the few homes that featured two floors, and they were both quite large. The structure had been hewn from thick, ancient logs harvested from the local woods, their massive bodies carved into huge walls that towered above us. Paned windows were the only interruption to the imposing dominance, but their black molding didn’t add any warmth to the viewer. A half dozen chimneys stuck out of the steep-pitched roof, where shingles nestled against the local stone as though seeking the warmth that even then flowed out of the tops.
A short wooden fence made of small poles and tied together with wire surrounded the lush green yard, with notices posted every ten feet.
* * *
Do not allow your animals to graze here by order of Squire Torquatus!
* * *
I stopped in front of one of the signs and studied the bold, dark lettering. A chicken strutted past me and through the slots between the poles. She pecked at a few of the longer blades of grass, eating away at the seeds, before strolling back out.
