The Blight of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood 2)

As she had predicted, the kitchen was in an uproar. The smells struck her like a fist and she realized how starving she was.

“Another egg, Bryn. Over there…no, over there! Do not be wasteful.” Pasqua massaged her left shoulder, looking out of breath. She glanced over at Lia and shook her head. “Look at you, child. The Aldermaston had you out all night in that storm, did he? Another flood, I suspect? And here we have five hundred loaves baking, just like before.” She smiled, kneading her shoulder. “We have been busy, but Sowe and Bryn are good girls. They were working before I arrived, and I came early. Let me help you wash your hair. It is a thicket as always. You do not want to look like that in front of Colvin and Edmon. Not my girl.”

Lia almost told her that she had spent the entire night walking the Abbey grounds in the storm with Colvin, who insisted he accompany her in case any of the riders entered the borders of the Abbey grounds. She was so exhausted, she accepted Pasqua’s help because it would bring sleep faster. She hid the Cruciger orb and stowed her hunter gear and garb, while Pasqua went to the changing screen and started fetching warm water from the kettle.

“You heard about the Queen Dowager from the Aldermaston no doubt,” Pasqua said. “I got a good look at her last night. She is a dangerous one, she is. The cut of her dresses. It is shameful, this being an Abbey. Poor learners will not be able to concentrate at all while she stays. Let me hold up your hair, child. Oh, this is filthy. Like you were crawling through brambles and mud on purpose.” Warm water drenched the crown of her head and dripped brown from the muddy ends. With a cake of soap and a good scouring, Pasqua helped clean her hair and neck and talked about the visitors, the food they would serve, wondering how long they would stay, while Lia listened to the chatter from Sowe and Bryn.

It was the softness of their voices that attracted her interest. They were trying not to be overheard.

“I think he will come earlier today,” Bryn said softly. “Earlier than yesterday.”

“It will likely rain all day. He is bored and likes telling stories.”

“You know it is more than that. He likes you, Sowe.”

Sowe was quiet a moment. “He is very kind, but he does not care for me, Bryn. He is just friendly. Lia told me.”

“That may be what Ciana said, but I have eyes! You should see the way he looks at you. He does not look at me that way. Not at Pasqua.” Their voices fell even softer and Lia strained to hear. “How long was Colvin gone before Edmon even realized it? He enjoys coming here. Being with you.”

“Being with us,” Sowe corrected. “Besides, he is nearly finished with all his maston training already. He is bored.”

“I do not think so. And stop pretending you do not care, Sowe. I see the way you look at him when he talks.”

“You are acting like you are six,” Sowe muttered, quoting one of Lia’s favorite sayings.

“And you are not acting like you are nearly fifteen. Sowe, this is the year that the older boys start to notice us. Not the ones our age, but the older ones, like Edmon.”

“And Getman,” Sowe said softly.

“What I am saying is that you should watch for signs from him. Look for those little clues. He wants to be here in the kitchen instead of in the cloister with Ciana and Ellowyn. That says something. You should see his eyes light up when he makes you laugh. As if he craves it each time.”

“You laugh at his stories, too!”

“Of course I do! All I am saying is watch for it. Will he come earlier and earlier each day? How many times will he ask you to dance at Whitsunday? Will we…”

“He will dance with me once. Just like he said. He will ask us all.”

Bryn did not sound convinced. “You think so. But I have eyes. Tell me you do not care about him.”

“I do not care about him…not in that way. He is an earl, Bryn. I am a wretched. I do not love him. I do not love anyone.”

Lia remembered the quote Colvin had taught her. Someone who says o'er much I love not is in love.

As the warm water dripped from her chin, her thoughts turned to Colvin and she winced. It was absurd. It was totally, completely absurd. She enjoyed his company. She had shared with him all those experiences that bound them together in mutual affection and caring. But as she had listened to Bryn’s words she began to wonder if she had been blind. Was Colvin telling her things with his eyes that he dared not say with his mouth? There were many hints. He found Ellowyn’s quiet demeanor attractive in a wretched, not a wife. He craved companionship, being equals with a woman. He wanted to spend time with Lia instead. He wanted to meet her later by the laundry to show her something in his tome. Just the thought of it sent a crushing feeling inside her chest. She could not wait until the afternoon.