“You think too much.”
“You do, too.”
“I do,” he agreed. “Why don’t we save ourselves from ourselves and talk about something far removed from where we are. What shall we discuss?”
“Where were you weaned?” she asked, latching onto the first thing that came to mind.
“Stafford,” he said easily, then he shot her a look. “It’s a bit north of Birmingham.”
She scowled at him, had another smile for her trouble, then shifted her youngest nephew more comfortably on her lap. “And then?”
“I was sent to—well, you could term it fostering, I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “In Edinburgh.”
“Which makes you a Lowlander of sorts, then,” she conceded. “How long were you there in Edinburgh, then?”
“Until I was released. I never returned home.”
“Were your parents gone, then?” she asked in surprise.
He smiled faintly and shook his head. “They’re still alive. They just have several other children and once I was released, I was a man and there was no need to go home.”
There were details enough there, she suspected, but she also sensed he might be as reluctant to discuss his family as she was to speak of hers. She was heartily sorry she’d asked, so she quickly cast about for something lighter to discuss.
“Tell me more about your friends sending you to Scotland, then,” she said quietly. “We might speak in French, if you’d rather.”
“That might be safer for the moment,” he agreed in that tongue. He considered, then moved a bit closer to her. “We call it a holiday. That horrible thing they sent me on, that is.”
“A holiday,” she repeated slowly. “And what does that mean?”
“It’s when you take time away from your normal labors and go amuse yourself.”
She frowned. “Thatisa horrifying thought.”
He smiled. “I agree.”
“I suspect the only amusement anyone is having, I don’t mind telling you yet again, is your lads at your expense.”
“I definitely agree with that.”
She would have snorted, but she feared to draw any attention to herself or wake children she could feel had drifted into theirusual boneless slumber. She envied them, truly she did, that bit of sleep where they knew no harm would befall them.
“Mairead.”
She liked very much the way he said her name. “Aye?”
“You’re safe right now,” he said quietly. “You could sleep, if you like.”
“I’m fine,” she said, “but I thank you—”
She jumped a little at the sound of shouting coming from the great hall, but it subsided almost immediately. She looked at Oliver.
“That happens often.”
“I imagine it does,” he said very quietly. “Your brother has quite a temper.”
“He does,” she agreed, then she cast about desperately for a distraction. “Do you think James and his bride went to—well, you know where—through the little croft in the forest?”
“I think there is a spot in the forest behind the hall,” he said carefully. “I haven’t had time to investigate it. What do you think?”
