“I am going to get you eventually. It’s going to be a lot easier for both of us if you just stay still,” the farmer said, before making another lunge. Rose thought he was going to catch the goat thistime, but at the last moment the goat nimbly skipped away, then turned and bleated, as if to taunt the farmer. The farmer beat the ground with his fist.
“I say, what a terrible fix,” Edmund said. He slipped off his gloves and jacket, handing them to Rose before approaching the farmer.
“My good man, would you like some assistance?” Edmund called as he climbed over the gate. His boots got muddy as soon as they touched the ground, but he didn’t seem to mind. He rolled up his sleeves as he approached the farmer, revealing strong forearms.
Rose tried to ignore them, but she was not entirely successful.
“If you think you can, although I must warn you, I think the devil is in this animal,” the farmer said, his words burning with frustration.
“Then perhaps I should fetch a priest instead, but we’ll try to capture it first,” Edmund replied, pointing for the farmer to go one way while he went the other.
“If I didn’t need it, then I would fetch my gun rather than the priest. It’s a sorry state of affairs when a man depends on a goat to live.”
“We must simply teach it a lesson and quash this rebellion. I shall try to move him into your path. Are you ready?” Edmundsaid. The farmer wiped his hands on his thighs and nodded, bracing himself for another try.
Edmund held out his hands and approached the goat. He spoke loudly enough that Rose could hear.
“Now then, I have dealt with stubborn people before. There’s no need for us to butt heads. Just be reasonable, and you can go back home. I am sure you’re treated well, with lots of food and comfortable hay. There’s really no need for you to cause all this trouble.”
On this last word, Edmund exhaled a sharp breath and lunged toward the goat, seeking, if not to capture it, then to make sure it moved into the path of the farmer. Rose gasped as the goat moved toward Edmund instead of away. It lowered its head, clearly intending to butt heads with Edmund despite Edmund’s dissuading words.
“Ah!” Edmund cried as he twisted to avoid the goat. He bent back, whirling his arms to try and keep his balance, teetering back and forth like a blade of grass in the wind. Rose put her hand to her mouth, laughing at the sight. For a moment, it looked as though Edmund was about to fall fully into the mud, but he just managed to regain his balance at the last moment.
Meanwhile, the farmer threw himself at the goat and locked his burly arms around it. The goat bucked and writhed, trying to break free. The farmer slid down the goat’s body and wrapped his arms around the goat’s hind legs, straining back to avoid being kicked in the face.
“I have got him!” the farmer cried triumphantly, but his voice was strained, and he was still struggling. It didn’t seem like it would take much for the goat to break free. Edmund raced toward the farmer and took one of the goat’s legs.
Together, they dragged the goat as though they were pulling a wheelbarrow that had suddenly come to life and was intent on making things difficult. Edmund and the farmer kept having to twist and dodge to avoid the writhing goat’s hooves. Their boots became soaked with mud, and as the goat kicked, flecks of mud shot up and stained their clothes.
Rose only stopped laughing when she was moved by the animal’s anguish.
By the time they finished and the goat was safely back in the paddock, both men were red-faced, their brows glistening with sweat.
“Thank you for that. The name’s Jenkins, by the way. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” the farmer asked, reaching out his hand. Edmund took it firmly.
“Nice to meet you, Jenkins. I am Edmund,” Edmund said, and Rose was surprised that he didn’t tell the farmer that he was a duke. “And there’s no need to repay me. It was just a simple favor.”
“But your clothes,” Jenkins said, gazing at Edmund’s attire. “They look expensive.”
“Indeed, I shall have to ask for my money back. The amount these clothes cost… they should be able to withstand a little trouble from a goat,” Edmund said. He and Jenkins laughed heartily. Rose decided to join them, thinking that Edmund could use his coat. However, as she tried to open the gate, her glove caught on a piece of wood. It took her by surprise, and she gasped.
Edmund’s head twisted around immediately. He bid Jenkins farewell and came rushing to Rose’s side.
“Are you hurt?” he asked as he looked at her hand. He curled his fingers around her palm and gently pulled it away from the gate. The glove had been torn across the palm.
“I don’t believe so.”
“We should check anyway,” Edmund said, and peeled Rose’s glove away.
Today she was wearing short gloves that reached her wrist. Breath caught in her throat as his fingers peeled the fabric away from her skin. His fingertips brushed against the inside of her wrist and then her palm, following the path of veins. It felt more intimate than it should, and as his finger drifted across the middle of her palm, her fingers began to curl back involuntarily, as though they wanted to hold onto his finger.
“It seems that only the glove was damaged, thankfully,” he said, cradling her hand. He turned it over, inspecting it, and then let it go. She drew her hand back toward her stomach, feeling asthough it had been burned. Edmund took his gloves and coat, then grinned.
“Perhaps we should return to the others. We should be away from these vicious pieces of wood that accost you,” Edmund said, waving farewell to Jenkins.
“Why didn’t you tell him who you are?”
“I did. I shared my name.”
