Page 33 of Wed By Proxy

“No,” he said, rounding the nearest chair and dropping into it. “They are yours to do with as you please.”

She smiled nervously. “Thank you.” He opened his mouth to try and apologize for the manner in which he had left her that morning, but she forestalled him. “Did Rob tell you about the chickens?” she asked.

“He did.”

“And to think,” she marveled. “We none of us heard a thing!”

Guy nodded, clearing his throat. “It is surprising it never woke any of us,” he agreed.

Mathilde nodded. “Will you have your supper with us this evening?” she asked brightly.

“Aye.”

She fixed an intent look on him. “You did not bring Temur or Waldon with you?”

He shook his head. “Mathilde, about this morning…” he started hesitantly.

“I think I might just change for dinner,” she blurted, leaping up from her seat. Seizing the scarlet dress, she practically fled from the room.

Guy was just wondering if he had seriously offended her when the door opened again and Prudence appeared with a jug of ale and some plum juice. She set down the tray and immediately started gathering up the scraps of discarded fabric which littered the floor.

“It will just be you and my mistress for supper,” she said briskly. “Master Robin means to eat downstairs and finish his plans for the hen house.”

“I see,” he glanced over at the log pile. “I’ll go down and fetch more wood in.” He felt far too ill at ease to just sit there idle.

“Thank you kindly, milord,” Prudence surprised him by actually looking grateful for once. “It will give me chance to set all this to rights,” she said glancing round at all the pinned gowns and garments that were littered over the backs of chairs.

He nodded and made his way downstairs, where he found Robin frowning over his sketches. His cat sat on the low footstool in front of the fire now, washing her face.

“Where did you find the cat?” Guy asked. He didn’t remember seeing one at the lodge before.

“She followed us back from Helga’s hovel,” Robin said absently. “I wonder if a hinged roof would work better?” The last was muttered, almost to himself.

“Old Helga?” Guy asked sharply. How strange. He had only thought of the old crone for the first time in years a few days ago, and here was mention of her again.

“Aye, we stumbled on her cottage while walking in the woods,” Robin answered, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“She still lives close by then,” Guy muttered to himself, as he passed out into the garden and picked up the axe to start chopping up the logs. The little cat followed him outside and watched him awhile, before growing bored, and jumping up onto the window ledge, mewing for Robin’s attention. The boy soon hurried to let her back in.

He cast an anxious look up at the darkening sky. “I’ll have to get the hens in before ere long,” he observed. Guy glanced over at the hens, who looked none the worse for their recent ordeal. “I told Prudie you agreed they could sleep in the buttery until their new house was ready,” Robin said furtively, glancing back over his shoulder. “So if she says anything to you…” Guy grunted as he swung the axe. Robin took this as agreement, and headed back inside with a satisfied nod.

As soon as he had a sizeable pile, Guy gathered an armful and took it inside. First he stacked up a good pile next to the kitchen fire where Robin and Prudence would be sitting this evening. Then he carried up armfuls to the sitting and the dining room, unsure where Mathilde envisaged them spending the majority of their time. He knew which room he wanted her to entertain him in, but it wasn’t either of those. Hesitating a moment, he fetched another armful up and tapped on the bedroom door.

“One moment!” he heard hurried footfalls and then the slamming of a trunk. “Come in.”

Guy opened the door and found Mathidle swathed in a woolen mantle. “Are you cold?” he asked in concern.

“N-no, I was just, trying on my new shifts,” she said, her cheeks flushed. “They are rather thin, so …”

“I’ll light the fire in here,” said Guy with a frown. “And get it warmed up for you.”

“Thank you,” she said and hovered nearby while he laid the wood. “Do you, er, do you think it might be as well to have a small table set up in here for us to eat our supper?” she asked breathlessly. “As it will only be the two of us. It seems foolish to have so many fires lit in the house…” Her words trailed off.

Guy shot a look at her. She was practically wringing her hands. Why was she so anxious? The unpleasant thought occurred to him that it might be down to him. He was just worrying that it could be due to his behavior the night before, when her words finally registered with him.

“That would be most agreeable to me,” he admitted gruffly, as it sank in, that she actually wanted him in her bedchamber with her. A warmth spread throughout his body and he relaxed slightly. He couldn’t have been so very terrible a bedfellow, he thought with relief. Not if she was willing to have him in there with her again, so soon after.

He was just coaxing a flame, when Prudence and Robin carried in a small round table and two chairs, setting them down before the fireplace. Mathilde flitted around it, placing down knives and spoons as Robin carried up the dishes and Prudence fetched him water to wash.