Elara followed the sconce-lit, single hallway of the cottage, lined with bedroom doors, and went out to the communal space. The cottage was very different from Constantine’s large family estate in London, but as Elara looked around again, she found it quite cozy.
The communal space was a spacious open room, with a kitchen on the left and a sitting area on the right. There was a large hearth on the opposite wall from where she stood, now crackling with a fire, and in front of it were several pieces of comfortable brown leather furniture and multiple end tables, each topped with an oil lamp. The kitchen had a matching fireplace, and along the other walls, counter space and numerous cabinets stretched above it. In the center of the room, occupying mostof the space, was a large rectangular wooden table that seated eight. On it were four candelabras, each holding two burning candles, and a large plate of biscuits that the wet nurse had purchased from the nearby bakery.
Elara was once again taking in her new surroundings when the front arched door opened, and Constantine walked through. Immediately, Elara felt her body tighten. A typical wife might rush to him and greet him with open arms or even a kiss. However, their particular relationship did not hold such affection, so she let her feet stay planted as Constantine tiredly shut the door, walked to the leather sofa, and sat down with a huff.
“We should have brought more staff,” Constantine muttered, leaning his head against the high back of the sofa as he closed his eyes. “I would pay James double right now just to help me take my boots off.”
Elara let out a huff of a laugh and relaxed a little.
“We will make do,” she replied, going to the plate of biscuits. “This place is quaint but small. We would not have room for all the staff you usually require.”
She looked over the selection of biscuits for a moment and then picked up one she suspected was flavored with treacle.
“I would not have to worry about room if you had stayed behind in London as I originally planned,” Constantine replied dryly.
Elara rolled her eyes as she held the biscuit between her teeth, picked up the plate, and carried it over to the small, knee-high table in the center of the room. They did not usually do nice things for each other, but Elara figured that if the tired sound of his voice was any clue, their first day of espionage had not gonewell.
Constantine looked at her curiously as she set down the plate, then bit off a bit of biscuit as one hand came to hold it, and the other rested on her hip.
“Well, wearewith you, and that is not going to change,” she stated matter-of-factly after swallowing her first bite. She had been right. It had indeed been treacle. And cinnamon. Her favorite sort of biscuits.
“So there is no use in whining. You will have to accept that for the next week, you will have to remove your own boots,” she added, then took another bite of her biscuit.
Constantine’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, glaring at her.
“I do notwhine,”he stated, his tone cutting.
Elara nearly choked on her biscuit as she scoffed.
“As you say, Your Grace,” she answered tauntingly, then sat in the high-backed armchair to his left as he began the work of removing his boots.
“What have you discovered today?” she asked before he could hurl another barb or excuse at her. “I take it from your fouled mood that it did not go well.”
Constantine let out a weary sigh as he accomplished the undoing of his first boot.
“Aside from the fact that my brother was infamous for heavy drinking and having pretty company? Nothing,” he replied, pulling the boot off and setting it aside.
Elara felt her heart sink a little at the news. “And my brother?”
Constantine finished removing his second boot and leaned back into the sofa.
“What of your brother?” he asked.
Elara tsked her tongue as she shot him an agitated look.
“You know what I mean,” she snapped. “What did you learn of him?”
“Nothing,” Constantine replied with a shrug. “I did not ask.”
Anger shot through her veins, forcing her to her feet.
“What do you mean you did not ask?” she countered, leaning toward him with her hands on her hips.
“Our plan was to ascertain whether Augustus was here or not so that we may inquire uponhimfor the details of your brother,” Constantine retorted, his tone biting as he stared at her with a look of annoyance that matched her own. “Do not forget, Elara, that your brother has made many enemies before he either died or disappeared. Asking around about him will most probably shut doors and encourage others not to speak with me.”
Elara wanted to contradict him so badly that her hands shook. Yet as she tried to reach for an argument, she found none. Whether she liked it or not, Constantine was correct. Their best bet was finding Augustus.
“I have finally settled William,” she said. “If all goes well, he should be in much better spirits tomorrow, and I can come with you to the track.”
