Page 33 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

“I suppose so.”

“Morcom has been very good about looking after you, Thistle. I know he brings you little seedlings. He tempts you into being social. He’s trying to cheer you up. Perhaps you should thank him.”

“Yes.” Thistle nodded but her face was still turned toward the house. “I will do that,” she said absently.

Derowan sighed and looked again back towards her oak. “Yes. Please, do.”

CHAPTER3

That damned birdwas following him. It had to be the same one. Locryn had cut through the woods just like Gwyn and her sister did yesterday and he’d picked up an avian shadow when he passed the grove where the Pixie barrow stood.

He glared up at the chough as it perched on a branch just ahead of him. “If I were a different sort of man,” he told the bird, “I would take great pleasure and fitting revenge in stalkingyou, my fine, feathered friend, and I would interrupt just as you were showing all of your fine plumage and attempting to impress your mate.”

The bird squawked.

“You interfere with me today, and see if I don’t,” Locryn threatened.

He marched on, trying to forget his aunt’s words yesterday as he crossed the stream, hurried through the wood, and into Castle Keyvnor’s extensive gardens. He paused there, unsure. He had not made specific plans to meet Lady Gwyn. Should he go and ask after her at the castle? He was not familiar with the layout of the gardens, although he knew they were extensive and included a maze. Sleeping rose bushes surrounded him at the moment, but there looked to be a main path up ahead. He started toward it.

“You are looking for Lady Gwyn, aren’t you?”

He spun around, then relaxed as a boy peeked around from what would be a bank of roses, in the spring.

“Yes. I am. How did you know?”

“Oh, I heard her talking to Tamsyn about it. Lady Gwyn came out to the gardens just a while ago. You’ll find her plot if you follow that path, then take the second turn to the left.”

“Thank you.” The boy spoke well for one that looked so young. Locryn looked around for a nurse or a playmate. “Are you out here alone?”

“Yes. I’m just saying goodbye to the roses.”

Locryn frowned, but before he could respond, the boy continued. “Don’t worry. It’s quiet out here on Sundays. Lady Gwyn is waiting for you. She’ll hear your footsteps and come to fetch you before you pass by.”

Locryn glanced toward the path. “I appreciate your help.” He turned back. “Can I—”

He stopped. The boy was gone.

He stepped behind the bank of roses and circled all the way around. No. The child haddisappeared.

A shiver ran down his spine. With another long, uneasy glance around, he moved on.

* * *

Thistle started as Morcom popped in beside her. “Oh, Morcom. Good day.” She remembered what Derowan had said and offered up a smile.

“Good day, Thistle.”

She looked at him. Once. Twice. “You look very nice today,” she said with a little frown of surprise.

He blinked and one corner of his mouth lifted. “Thank you.”

“Is that a new tunic?” She couldn’t remember ever seeing him dressed in anything but drab, brown rags.

“Yes. It is.”

“The birch bark is beautiful. It looks so nice against your skin.” His lovely, mottled brown skin—which she’d never really noticed before. But then, he’d never worn a sleeveless tunic before, either. She had to stop herself from staring. Who knew Morcom had such nice, broad, strong-looking shoulders?

“What are you doing?” he asked.

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