Yet with Hugh by her side there would be no more questioning of vendors either—another day lost in helping her family. And she didn’t like it.
‘Then you’ll leave?’ she said, walking again.
He kept pace with her. ‘Why do you go to Mitchell’s?’
He was stubbornly by her side, and unhelpful with his answers. She needed Hugh gone.
‘I am not going to Mitchell’s.’
He placed his hand on his chest. ‘Come, Alice, I’m weary, and I only wish to be a gentleman.’
‘You wished to be something else.’
His expression darkened before she realised what she’d said, and she wondered where this boldness had come from when she had no experience with it. Probably from frustration and worry. She had no patience because the King would have no patience, because William was worried about his Boy Bishop duties, because winter storms would soon arrive and families needed work and shelter.
She closed her eyes, rephrased. ‘I mean, you are up to something else.’
‘What could I possibly be up to?’
Everything. Nothing.
She hurried her pace. She was more than suspecting now that his presence had to do with the King, but if he wasn’t telling neither was she. And he still wasn’t leaving her side.
‘I’m going to the south-west corner of our land,’ she said. ‘I’ll need to stop at the house for supplies first. After that, if you insist, ride with me there.’
Her family’s land was vast, with thousands of sheep. Hugh had never been privy to surveying it before. The old horse his father had kept was used only for the most necessary trips. But there were days when he didn’t want to return home, and on those days his feet had taken him almost out of Swaffham.
‘There was a barn there...falling apart.’
‘If you come, you have to help.’ She stopped, stared at him the way she had in the garden. Assessing.Commanding. ‘Youwillhelp.’
‘With what?’
‘You’ll see.’
He tilted his head. ‘Is Mitchell there?’
She waved her hand at him and sped up her footsteps. Even if she hadn’t gone silent he would have known her patience was gone.
So was his.
‘Secrets?’ he said. ‘I’ll know them all, Alice, no matter how fast you walk away.’
* * *
Hugh heard the commotion before they turned the bend in the road. Pounding against metal, shouts, smells of burning coal and wood. Fires and smoke clashing with the winter wind.
Whatever he had been expecting by following Alice here, this industry was not it. It was already late afternoon. Delay had been caused by the retrieval of two horses, the saddling of two more.
The winter light was dimming. They had no more than a few hours’ daylight left, but everyone worked as if the day had just begun.
When others spotted their arrival, there were more shouts. Children and their mothers strode forward. Alice’s two horses carried large sacks and baskets. Food, blankets, supplies. Now he knew why.
As Alice alighted she was greeted warmly and with much chatter. He shook his head at the sight before him.
All morning in her presence there’d been suspicion between them. Since he had insisted on accompanying her, she’d kept a stony silence. Though he’d burned for information, he had gathered his patience to wait until they arrived. He had thought this trip would be useless—until now.
Alice was surrounded by people. The worry in her eyes had eased, a smile curved her lips. She held the hand of one small child.
