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Usually he writes in his study, but now I see that he is editing, massive amounts of text annotated with a red biro. I try and read in between his scribbles but I can't make head or tail of anything this far through a plot, so I abandon the task. I hang the hand towel on the Aga rail and leave the clean flagstone kitchen just in time to see Eliot going up the stairs with Byron's clothes in his hands. I follow him up at a distance, my footsteps heavily muffled by the thick pile carpet.I stop outside our room and lean against the door jamb, as he disappears into Byron's room to put away his clothes. I can watch him from here.His long ebony ponytail falls over his shoulder as he bends over to pick something up off the floor, bare feet, jeans and a white t-shirt. He stops in Byron's doorway and I smile at him. His face is grim and his jet black eyes are downcast. Slowly he comes toward me and I wrap my arms around him as he buries his face in my shoulder. I can feel his hot tears through. With Mistress Olina, the Court Healertravelling with Sir Nevan's parents, someone needed to go to the Keep."Sir Miles is sick as well."Aislin grumbled, of course he was. "Let me get dressed." I brought you a horse." Oh joy," she said. Her bottom hadn't recovered from yesterday's ride."Nevan." Yes Milady." I need to get dressed." Yes." The young Knight had not moved, not realizing what she wassaying.She sighed. "That means I need my privacy, take yourself and yoursnickering companions to the front room. I will be with you in a fewminutes."More laughter burst from the other side of the cottage, as the youngKnight with a half-smile on his lips, ordered his men to make a hastyretreat.Entering the front room, in a time that surprised most of the men,Aislin set her grandmother's bag across her shoulders. She had ponderedfor a few minutes what to garb herself in. Obviously, with most of hermother's clothes, she needed Macha's help to get dressed; however, oneoutfit in particular caught her.
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” It was my turn to be impressed. “I have never heard of French Coffee as a colour.” Emma smiled and said, “Do you like the colour I am wearing?” “They are very fetching, but they are suntan are they not?” I said. “Very good. Well French coffee is a darker shade, one that would be perfect with that shade of green. They are a 50s style vintage stocking.” “Can you get me a pair?” I asked. “Yes ma’am,” she responded. “It’s Julia,” I said. “I will get you a pair,” she paused smiling coyly at me, “Julia.” As she walked away, I watched her waiting for the look back, as expected, it came with a sly smile. I looked at Gwen and said, “What do you think Gwen? Think I can seduce her?” Gwen looked at me with a look I could not read. “Well few have ever been able to resist the Julia charm.” It should be noted that Gwen has seen me seduce many men and women throughout the years. “You did,” I paused, “Well mostly.” Gwen blushed, but before I could continue cute little Emma returned. The brunette.

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