“She has so far, has she not? But I will ask Lorelei if she needs Boudicca set in another room or the like. I have eaten at homes where there are dogs right in the room, just well behaved. I am hoping that, to stay near me, Boudicca will remain well behaved despite all those children.”
He laughed. “Good luck. That might be an empty wish for it rests on the ability of all of those children being well behaved.” He kissed her on the cheek. “This could be a time of madness for you but just remember, you can ask anything you want if there is something you do not understand.”
They walked into the big dining hall and it appeared as if chaos ruled. There was a massive dark wood table in the shape of a huge letter U that appeared to be already full, although Argus waved them over to two seats on his right. In the far left corner there was a small rectangular table where the women caring for the youngest members of the clan sat with those children. She quickly asked for and received Lorelei’s assurances that Boudicca was welcome and her dog disappeared under the table. Primrose could feel the dog draped over her feet but soon some child tempted the puppy away by holding something under the table. A fast look around the table told her that Boudicca was being fed by nearly everyone at the table. All she could do was hope her dog did not end up being sick.
Conversation swirled around here. There was a lot of teasing and the talk revealed to her that there was much about the world that she did not know. The number of gifts the people had told her a lot about the close ties the family maintained. They needed one another if only for a source of people who understood what they could do and help one another through any learning that needed to be done. It was a wonderful thing to see, she decided, and sighed with a strong touch of envy.
“Is everything all right?” asked Bened.
“Yes, fine. I was just admiring your family.” She patted his hand. “It is really quite miraculous, Bened. Mine was not bad—me, my father, and Simeon, I mean—but then there was the side that was my aunt and uncle. Yours is so close, so friendly with one another, so ready to help and that help being treated as the gift it is. As I said—you are a very lucky man.”
He was touched and then thought that he was indeed lucky but it was not his family he was thinking of. Hoping no one was paying too much attention, he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “Yes, a very lucky man indeed,” he murmured.
“Did she spill something on her hand?” asked a beautiful little boy sitting on the other side of Bened.
Bened looked at the boy with his wild, deep red curls and huge green eyes. “And which one are you then, lad?”
“Morris’s boy. My name is Gawain. I can see ghosts and, if you want, I can help you see them, too. My mother did not think it was fun,” he added in a soft voice heavily weighted with sadness. “So, did she spill something on her hand?”
“Yes, I fear she did,” Bened said, and patted Primrose’s hand. “I hurried to lick it clean. I was happy to find that it was something I like this time.”
“That is a good thing. You don’t want to have to lick up something that is evil-tasting like sprouts.”
“God save us all from such a fate.”
Primrose knew Bened had made a face because the little boy giggled so hard he had to put down his spoon. And she realized, right at the moment she watched him take that sad look out of a little boy’s eyes by being silly, that she was desperately in love with this man.
Chapter Eleven
Simeon woke at the sound of the door opening. The knot of fear he had been unable to shake since he had discovered he had been locked in began to ease. He sat up on the narrow bed and watched the young woman who, he hoped, had rescued him. The doubt he now had was because of how she had locked him inside and he wanted a good explanation for that before he even began to trust her. There were several good reasons for her to do that, such as an understandable fear for her own life or fear of a robbery. Despite all her talk of some sort of vision prompting her actions, she did not know him.
Then he noticed she was walking like an old woman, a slow shuffling step and bent over ever so slightly. He quickly went to take the tray from her hands and saw how pale she was. Her eyes were dark with a pain she could not hide from anyone.
“What has happened to you?” he demanded, setting the tray on the table before turning back to her.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” she answered, the firm annoyance in her voice weakened by its unsteadiness.
“Did I say I was worried? No. I worry about my sister, about being locked in here when I do not even know who you are, and I worry about that cursed murderous aunt of mine but I do not worry about this. This, whatever it is, is done and needs tending to. Did you bring that salve you used on me?”
“Yes. It is on the tray. I thought you might wish more of it. And, I am fine. ’Tis but fresh and the pain will soon pass.”
“Then it will do so much faster with the salve. Sit down and undo your gown.”