Tristan looked around for something to throw at his younger brother, but the chamber was sparsely furnished and nothing came to hand. He found the grace to smile and waved him in.“Come inside and shut the door, lest I give one of the girls a fright.”
Unperturbed by his near-nakedness, Tristan stretched both arms above his head and yawned widely as Jonah closed the panel. The months he had spent in France had turned his skin golden-brown, whilst his regular training kept his muscles honed. Tristan prided himself on his skills with a sword and on his speed and stamina in the saddle. He kept his body fit and healthy. Last night’s over consumption of wine was not a customary habit.
He leaned out of the window, once again noting the flurry of activity coming from the stable yard around the corner. However, since his chamber looked out over the paddocks and hills to the west of the hall, he could not see what was causing the disturbance.
“Why all the noise?” he asked Jonah, puzzled.
His younger brother folded his arms and leaned against the plastered wall, an unreadable expression passing over his face.
“As ever, we all rush to fulfil your every command.”
Tristan was in no mood for puzzles. “Speak more clearly, brother. I do not have time for this.”
“Indeed you do not.” Jonah’s voice was smooth. “Mirrie is already waiting in the yard. Her bags are packed and her horse is saddled. I came only to see what was keeping you.”
Tristan frowned. “My intention is to bathe at the cove and break my fast before setting out for Wolvesley.”
“And yet you bade Mirrie to be ready to leave at first light.”
Tristan sank down onto the window ledge, his hopes of a swim in the sea plummeting. “I did, didn’t I?” He sighed. “Damnation. I was over-eager to be gone.”
Jonah inclined his head. “Perchance a little.”
Irritation swirled in his gut, firstly at himself, for speaking so rashly yesterday eve, and latterly at those who so unthinkinglyfollowed his instructions. Was it too much to ask for a little peace? To clean the dust from his skin before embarking on another day-long journey?
“There is no need for such haste,” he declared. “Tell Mirrie to rest awhile. I will not be overly long.” Jonah’s face remained impassive, but Tristan was a quick reader of expressions, and he could see a flicker ofsomethingbehind his brother’s blue eyes. He rose to his feet and opened his arms. “What is it?”
“’Tis naught.” Jonah offered a slight bow. “I will take your orders to the yard.”
“Nay.” Tristan raised a hand to stop him. “Has Mirrie been ready a while?”
“Since first light.” Was there a hint of sarcasm in Jonah’s voice?
Tristan bit down on his lip. His irritation had been joined by another emotion, which he belatedly recognised as guilt.
“No one woke me,” he muttered.
“’Tis a hard life indeed, without a manservant.” Now the sarcasm was undeniable.
Tristan stamped down on his displeasure. “You have made your point, Jonah. I will join Mirrie directly.” He glanced about the chamber and scowled. “Is there no bowl of water with which to wash?”
“Warmed water is available in the kitchen. But I will fetch it for you.” Jonah paused in the act of leaving the room. “For Mirrie’s sake,” he added.
Aye. Just as it was for Mirrie’s sake that Tristan would forgo his longed-for dip in the sea.
But it was forhissake that dear Mirrie was leaving her home and entering into a subterfuge which went against her honest nature. He must curb his impatience and remember this.
Jonah returned soon enough with a bowl of tepid water, much of which had been slopped over the stairs on the journeyfrom the kitchen. Again, Tristan silenced the complaint before it reached his lips.
Much longer at Ember Hall and he would turn into a veritable saint.
He expected Jonah to leave whilst he washed, but instead he walked with his uneven stride towards the window, averting his eyes from Tristan’s ablutions.
“May I make a request?”
Tristan had splashed water onto his face and was now rubbing at the grimy skin on his arms with a washcloth. He did not pause.
“Aye.”
