Page 49

She laughed softly. “I think it looked rather pretty.”

He ran his hand up the back of his head just to make sure there were no more green stragglers.

“Then put it in yer hair,” he said. “It’ll look better.”

She did, tucking it behind one ear, and Titus thought it was about the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. “Like that?” she asked.

A smile played on his lips as he looked at her. “Like that.”

He wanted to say more to her, but he wasn’t sure what, exactly, to say. Cam had told him to tell her she was lovely, and he thought he had. Sort of. He told her the flower would look better on her, hadn’t he? But he wasn’t sure what more he needed to say and it made him nervous. In a desperate bid to change the subject, he pointed to the broom.

“I thought ye did the cleaning yesterday,” he said.

Esme was still smiling as she looked at the broom in her hand. “Oh, I know,” she said. “I did quite a bit of it, but there is always something more to sweep or clean. Truthfully, I am enjoying it immensely.”

“Are ye?”

She nodded, tendrils of dark hair in her eyes. “At Culroy, all we did was sit around and watch each other sing or paint or dance,” she said. “Did you know that about Lady Ayr? She never believed in labor for noblewomen. We could only have refined interests, which is why I can read and write so well. When I wasn’t reading, I was writing.”

“Oh?” he said, warming to the conversation quickly. “What did ye write?”

She shrugged bashfully. “Poems, mostly,” she said. “Sometimes memories of my life at Santacara. I even wrote a story once.”

“What about?”

“A little Roman boy from the Roman ruins at Santacara,” she said. “He lost his dog and set out with his friends to find it.”

“Did he?”

She grinned. “He did,” she said. “A terrible woman had stolen the dog and refused to give him back, so the little boy and his friends outsmarted her. Confidentially, the woman in my story was a duchess with a mean husband.”

She meant like Lady Ayr and he chuckled. “Good on ye,” he said. “She deserved it.”

Esme laughed, a tinkling sound that set Titus’ heart to racing. “She did, indeed,” she said. “She deserved that and much more. But Lady Ayr aside, are you hungry? I have food inside if you are.”

He was, but mostly, he was just glad to see her again. Each day saw her more charming than the last.

“I can eat,” he said. “Will ye eat with me?”

Esme nodded. “I will,” she said, gathering the broom and heading for the door. “I thought that I might ask the cooks here to teach me how to cook. Do you think that is a good idea?”

She pushed open the door, entering, and he followed close behind. “If ye wish it,” he said, shutting the cottage door. “But I told ye that I dunna expect ye tae cook for me.”

“I know,” she said, setting the broom aside. “But I would like to learn. One should never stop learning, you know. There is always something new to know.”

He sat down at the table as she went over to the hearth, stirring something in the pot over the low flame.

“I suppose that is true,” he said. “That is why I train every day. It keeps my skills sharp but, sometimes, I learn something new. But dunna tell the others. I dunna want them tae think they can teach me anything.”

She snorted. “Is that where you went this morning? To train?”

He nodded, realizing there was a pitcher of watered ale on the table and he poured himself a cup. “Aye,” he said, smacking his lips after taking a drink. “That is what every warrior at The Cal does, every morning. We train.”

Esme began spooning the thick pottage into bowls. “Is it permissible to watch you train?”

“If ye wish.”

She nodded. “I would like to,” she said. “I find it fascinating to watch you fight. And as I watched you last night, I realized something.”