only to herself. “Hello, blossom,” I said, rolling up onto my elbow. “Where has your mam gone?”
The little darling giggled and pointed to the door. “Come here, sprite,” I said, holding my arms out to her. She needed no coaxing. Up she jumped and dashed into my arms, her bare feet slapping the beaten earth. I gave her a hug and settled her in my lap. We sat together and broke branches and bits of bark into the coals on the hearth to build up the fire again. By the time we had a small blaze going, Nóin returned with freshly baked loaves of barley bread, a knob of new butter, and a jar of honey. She planted a kiss on my rough cheek, then busied herself preparing the food to break our fast.
“I must have fallen asleep,” I said as she spread a cloth on the floor next to the hearth, “but I don’t remember.”
“I’m not surprised,” she replied. “You were already halfway gone when you sat down. It did not take much to send you on your way.”
“I’m sorry.”
“How so? You were near worn through from your journey.” Nóin smiled, more to herself than to me. “I have no cause to blame you, Will, nor do I.”
That was good enough for me. She broke open a steaming loaf, slathered it with butter, and dribbled honey over it. “You know,” I said, trying to sound as if I had just thought of it, “you are a right fine woman who needs a man, and I am a fella without a wife. If we got married that would fell two birds with a single stone.”
“Oh, would it now?” she said, turning to regard me with a look I could not quite read. She folded her hands in her lap. “What makes you think I care to get married?”
“Well, I . . . I don’t know. Do you?”
She said nothing, but tore off a bit of the prepared half loaf and passed it to Nia, handing the remaining portion to me.
“Nóin, I’m asking you to be my wife if . . . if you’ll have me, that is.”
“Shush! Will I have you? Do you have to ask?” She smiled and began buttering the second half of the warm loaf. “Was I not thinking the same thing the moment I laid eyes on you?”
This was news to me. “Were you?”
“If you’re a man of your word,Will Scarlet, our friar could marry us tomorrow.”
“He could,” I agreed, my head swimming a little at the turn this conversation had taken.
“I’ve already spoken to him. We talked while you were gone.”
“And?” I asked, thinking this was all happening far faster than I could have imagined.
“He said he could not do it,” she replied just like that. “He said that he would give up Holy Orders before he allowed the likes of you to tie the knot.”
“What? He said that?” I started up, climbing to my feet. “He has no cause to—”
“Oh, sit down, you big ox.” She laughed. “What do you think he said?”
“Well, knowing him,” I conceded, “it might be anything.”
“He said he would be honoured to do it. We have but to name the day and it is good as done.” She handed me the bread. “So? What day shall we tell him?”
“Tomorrow it is,” I said.
“Tomorrow,” said Nóin, and now the doubt crept into her voice. “Are you certain that is what you want?”
“No, of course not. Today! That is better still.”
“William!” she cried. “It can’t be today.”
“Why not?” I reached for her and pulled her close. “The sooner the better, I say.”
“There are things to be done!” she exclaimed, pushing me away.“ Eat your bread and stop talking nonsense.”
“Tomorrow, then.” I reached down and cupped Nia’s face in my hand. “What do you say, snowdrop? Shall your mam and me get married tomorrow?”
The little mite laughed and hid behind her mother’s shoulder.
“See? She likes the idea. I’m going to go hunt the biggest stag in the forest for our wedding supper—and a boar or two, as well.”
“Listen to you,” Nóin said, beaming with pleasure at my bold talk. “Eat.” She pushed a chunk of honeyed bread into my mouth and kissed the sweetness on my lips.
“One day more, then,” I murmured, drawing her close, “and we will be together always.”
Oh! Would that I had said anything but that, for the bread and honey was still warm in my mouth when Iwan appeared at the door. “Will Scarlet? Are you in there,