Page 3 of Peregrine's Call
“I can stay no more than two nights, though one would be better. It depends on how much Lord Rainald can tell me this evening.”
Alric shook his head. “Alas, Rainald is not here.”
Octavian’s hopes fell. “I came this way specifically to speak to him.”
“A private matter required him to travel to Wallingford. He’ll be gone at least another fortnight.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Alric chuckled. “Unfortunate? Why do I have the sense that any other man would have a string of curses on his lips?” It was something of a joke among the knights that Octavian never swore, despite being in many situations calling for a curse or two.
“The brothers always knew how to train a boy out of swearing,” Tav noted, remembering the punishments meted out at the monastery where he’d been raised after being orphaned. “I’ll explain what’s happening after supper.”
Alric nodded once. “Indeed. And however short the visit, it’s good to see you.” He kissed Tav and said, more cheerfully, “Cecily will want to know how you are. I’m surprised she hasn’t swept down upon you already.” He turned to a passing servant, asking, “Where is my wife?”
“The gardens, my lord,” the girl replied.
Of course Cecily was in the gardens, Tav thought. The woman was constantly kneeling in soil, no matter the season. She took her role as lady of the manor seriously, and there was no finer herbalist in the shire.
When the men found her, she was in her garden workshop, carefully blending a concoction as it heated over a low flame. The smell of honey permeated the air.
“Just a moment,” she said, eyes on her work. “One of the tenants is ill, and this remedy must not boil or it will lose its effectiveness.”
“We’ll wait,” Alric assured her.
Octavian looked around at the various drying herbs and the many bottles and clay jars on the shelves. Cecily’s workshop always had an air of mystery.
After a little while, she removed the pot from the flame to cool. A smile lit her face as she focused on them at last. “Octavian! How wonderful!” She stepped away from the work table and kissed him once firmly on the mouth. “We just heard you were on the road. Has Alric kept your visit for a surprise?”
“It was a surprise to me as well,” Alric said. “And we don’t have him for long.”
Cecily gave a little pout, but linked her arm in Alric’s, leaning against him. Then she held out her other hand to Tav. The three began to walk back toward the manor. She said, “If the visit must be short, let us make the best of it. Octavian, we have fresh venison for supper. I wish my father were here!”
Cecily asked a slew of questions as they walked, everything from the news of London to the latest rumors of the war’s progress to the health of his liege lord Denis. Tav answered them as fast as he could, all the while noticing how Cecily and Alric communicated in gestures and glances as much as words. Tav caught the way Alric leaned against Cecily for a moment, and without understanding how he knew, Tav was certain Cecily was with child again.
He didn’t say anything, because it wasn’t his place, but he smiled, warmed to see the couple so happy.
But underneath that was a layer of cold, drawing the warmth down to drown in it. He’d felt it before, but chose to ignore it. He had work to do, and soldiers never complained about being lonely.
Tav instead answered Cecily’s next question, though she interrupted when the manor house itself came into view. “Ah! Look who’s come to greet us.” Cecily pointed to the doorway.
Octavian looked over to see a young lady in an elegant green gown standing there. He’d never met the woman before, because he surely would have remembered. Petite in stature, but obviously confident in herself, to judge by her posture and the cool, calm smile on her face. Thick brown hair tumbled down her back, contained only by the simple green and gold headdress. He approved, because that let him see her rich blue eyes. Those eyes met his almost defiantly, reminding him of…
“Robin.” He said the name aloud without even realizing it.
“Who else?” Cecily returned cheerfully. “You seem surprised, Tav.”
Surprised? He was stunned. He couldn’t rip his gaze from the woman in green.
Thiswoman was Robin? The Robin he knew was barely more than a child, maddening and charming and mischievous all at once. She dressed in boy’s clothes and ran in the woods and in general acted as if she were part squirrel and part imp. She wore mussed-up braids and had dirt on her skin. Tav had always liked her—it was impossible not to like Robin. But he was also very glad she wasn’t his responsibility, since she was a whirlwind.
The Robin standing in front of him now was a full-grown woman, and looked it. The green gown skimmed her figure, hiding nothing of what she had become, which was a slight but absolutely lovely lady. He did wish that the neckline wasn’t quite so low, because no man should be able to see just how she’d…matured. Tav was uncomfortably aware of being caught up in her presence. She’d become a whirlwind of a different kind.
Then Robin smiled at him, saying, “Sir Octavian! What a surprise to see you.”
“Lady Robin.”
“It’s only Robin,” she said, wrinkling her nose in reaction to the title. The gesture was adorable.
