“What about you?” Peter asked with a tight smile when we got to our feet. “Do you have a girl you fancy?”
“Nah, not me. And we know Roderick was married a long time ago … what about Lochlan? Is he seeing anyone?”
“Not that I know of. He’s too busy plotting and scheming with Roderick. Besides, he doesn’t need a wife. He already does the knitting and cooking himself.”
A strange sense of relief swept over me.
“And I guess he doesn’t need a wife for companionship because he has us,” I said. The cottage came into view, and I spotted Roderick through the window, still carrying around the bag of pixie dust but without the nosebleed.
“Do you think Roderick will punch you back after what you did?” I asked Peter.
“No. He didn’t like it, but he understands where my line is. Men like him need to be reminded of the strength of their partners from time to time. Now he’s less likely to double-cross me.” He shot me a shifty, sidelong glance. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention anything about Tess to the others. I don’t want them even thinking about her. She’s off-limits.”
I nodded. It was impossible to shake off the memory of Peter’s hand gripping my wrist to hold me back from Tess. If he cared so much, he ought to have said something to her. Today was the Day of Mourning. If they had been such good friends,she could’ve been there to mourn his passing if she supposed him dead.
But if Peter wanted to keep a few secrets of his personal life private, I was content to let him. I knew better than anyone how much secrets mattered.
CHAPTER 11
Peter and Roderick elected to stay behind the following day while Lochlan and I set up the knitting booth again. Roderick claimed he was going to work on parceling out the pixie dust into small bags for selling, and Peter insisted on helping him.
Just as Peter had predicted, Roderick didn’t retaliate over the punching incident. Instead, it seemed that he had a greater respect for Peter rather than hating him because of the attack. I shook my head. Even after trying most of my life to imitate men, they still didn’t make sense to me sometimes.
“I heard there are pipes under the streets,” I told Lochlan as we set up the booth at the market that morning. The street bustled with busy shoppers all intent on getting their purchases and getting back home as quickly as possible.
“That’s true,” Lochlan said, unloading another basket and setting out his sign. “The aqueducts carry water from the mountain streams to the cities below. Many pipes run under the city to cool the streets and provide water to the houses. Berkway employs many pipe workers to keep it maintained.”
“That’s neat,” I said, arranging the products so they were actually organized by color instead of the haphazard way Lochlan had laid them out.
He smiled at a little girl toddling past who was staring at him with big green eyes. “Handknits for sale!” he called to the passersby. “Always a fair price!”
Sales were better that day, likely because the market had been closed for Mourning Day. Lochlan sold several items for a few coins each, but no one asked about alpaca wool.
Near the end of the day, Brent passed by. When he spotted me, he gave a cheery wave and immediately made a beeline for our booth. “Hey there, Gil,” he called. “I didn’t realize you were a knitter. How long have you had this hidden skill?” Then his gaze flicked over to Lochlan and his brow furrowed. “Do I know you?”
Lochlan held out his hand. “I should hope so. I make some of the best scarves in all of Berkway. I’m usually here twice a week. Are you looking for anything special today?”
Brent shook Lochlan’s hand, but his frown remained in place. “No, I know you from somewhere else.”
“I went to a boys’ academy over in Banebridge when I was younger,” Lochlan said. “Maybe there? I’d be willing to give a discount for an old classmate.”
Brent seemed to shake himself out of his stupor. “No, I’m not from here. My mistake. I was surprised to see you with my friend. Is this where you’ve been hiding lately, Gil?”
“Yeah,” I said sheepishly. “Remember, my mam has a new boyfriend and I don’t like hanging around him, so I offered to help Lochlan with his stall.”
“How generous of you. Come here, I wanted to tell you something.” Brent beckoned me over so we could talk in private, and Lochlan continued to watch us much too closely for comfort.
“There’s a new bounty,” Brent whispered. “And Ambrose isn’t giving it just to Elvin. He’s opening it to everyone all at the same time.”
“Who’s the bounty for?” I breathed.
“That’s the thing,” Brent answered excitedly after a quick look around. “Ambrose said it isn’t a person. It’s an object. But he’s offering a hundred thousand gold shillings.”
I nearly choked. “A hundred thousand? That’s a lifetime of earnings.”
He nodded. “Ambrose says he has more information for anyone who wants it, and he’ll be briefing everyone tomorrow night, so swing by if you can. If Elvin gets it instead of one of us, I might lose my mind.”
Cries came from the far end of the street leading out of the market, which I ignored.
