A knock rapped on the door.
Before an announcement could be made, it opened and the Queen Dowager entered, with Prestwich looking flustered.
“Aldermaston, I warned her that…”
He held up his hand. “What is it now, Queen Dowager?”
She looked at Lia and Colvin, at their mud-spattered clothing. “I was going to ask for fresh horses for our ride tomorrow. But I am told, as you say, that Muirwood does not have sufficient stables? What guests are these, Aldermaston? More arrivals from the storm?”
“You will recognize the Earl of Forshee, I am sure,” the Aldermaston replied, his eyes glinting with anger at the sudden interruption. “The other is the Abbey hunter. They were indeed caught by the storm.”
The Queen Dowager looked at Lia, her eyes running from her tangled damp hair to muddy boots. Lia had never met someone so darkly beautiful before. Raven hair spilled down her back. She wore a raven dress threaded with silver weave and a bodice cut so low that it was shocking. Earrings made of diamonds and ropes of jewelry around her neck and throat, with a large spider-like medallion showing a family crest set against her pale olive skin. She looked amused by Lia’s appearance, her full mouth smiling, but her eyes disdaining.
“A very strange choice in hunters,” the Queen Dowager said mockingly. “I had heard he was an old man.” Then she looked at Colvin and a wicked glint came to her eyes. “So it is Lord Price. I hardly recognized you. I have gratitude to be returning in time for the Whitsun Festival. A quaint tradition in this country. I shall look forward to dancing with you.”
* * *
The sunrise came through a break in the clouds, painting the heavens in orange and gold. The thunderheads loomed over the Tor and another blast seemed destined to arrive shortly after, turning the already muddy grounds into an impassable mess. Lia and Colvin walked side by side from the gatehouse toward the kitchen.
“Thank you for walking the grounds with me tonight,” Lia said, trying not to yawn. “Right now, Pasqua and the girls have been awake for a while getting ready to feed all these guests. Pasqua will be in high dudgeon because it was unexpected and the ovens will be hot. Which means I will get a warm bath. And since she is awake and I have not slept, I will sleep in her bed in the manor house instead of up in the loft.” She smiled at him.
“A bed is better than sleeping behind barrels and listening to Pasqua in high dudgeon. I understand you completely.”
“Get some rest, Colvin. If you leave your clothes with Prestwich, I will clean them when I go to the laundry later.”
“That is thoughtful of you. May I join you there?”
She looked at him. “Washing clothes is not very interesting work.”
“But I enjoy your company. I wanted to share something with you as well, if you recall and preferred to wait until daylight.”
The words sent a thrill through her heart. “What about now?”
He smiled. “We are both exhausted. Later then?”
“Very well. I will be anxious to know what it is. When it comes time for you to move on to another Abbey, you will be tired of me. I have not had anyone I could talk to like this…before. I enjoy being with you.” A question came to her mind and before she could think better, it blurted out. “A few days ago, I saw you and Ellowyn by the laundry. What were you talking about?”
He looked thoughtful, his gaze ahead at the sunrise. “The Medium. I tried to explain it in terms she could understand. That the Medium can channel anything – that the Leering nearby could summon water as well as mix with fire to warm it.” He looked at her smugly. “So really I was teaching her something that you taught me. I thought that by putting it in a familiar setting that she would understand better – water and scrubbing and purple flowers – that it would help her.”
“Did it?” Lia asked, already suspecting the answer.
He shook his head. “She is still so frightened by it. You would make a better teacher than my sister or I. That the power of the Medium is already inside of her, just waiting for its freedom. But the Aldermaston forbids it. He does not want anyone else knowing about you.”
Lia was grateful to be spared that. Oh, she pitied Ellowyn’s inability to muster anything with the Medium. But considering her advantages – her noble bloodline, her training in languages and tomes, Lia had difficulty rousing much sympathy for the girl.
They reached the manor and parted ways, Lia waving to him as he entered while she went on to the kitchen. Already the separation from him began to torment her. The memories bonded them together in ways that did not exist with others, not even Sowe. They had shared hunger and thirst, slept on the same prickly ground, witnessed the burning of a grove by a Leering with her face carved in it, buried a man under a pile of stones. They even shared a blood-stained battlefield in common. There were no forced words between them. No inward questioning about what to say next. And he had something he wanted to show her, something written in his tome. She pulled open the kitchen doors, anxious to clean herself before seeing him.