Page 79 of A Bluestocking’s Secret Courtship

Inside there was a slender woman with inky black hair that shimmered when she tilted her head. Her obsidian eyes lit when she saw Menar, her lips parted in surprise. They exchanged several words in their language, and Menar gestured to Evangeline.

“This is wife, Kiya,” he said. “You draw her now?”

Evangeline smiled. “I would be delighted, but I need my supplies.”

“Bath first,” Kiya said. “You look tired.”

“Oh! You speak English.”

“Some, yes.” She grabbed a long swath of cloth and a bar of soap. “Come.”

The men stepped aside when Kiya bustled for the exit. Evangeline hurried to keep up. Discreetly, she sniffed under her arm to see if Kiya’s rush was justified. Not horrible. But she probably looked like a mess after days on the road. More likely, she was being swept away because they wanted to keep her and Jonathan separated. She would do the same in their position.

They followed a rocky path that wound through overgrown oleander bushes tucked against boulders. Their pink blossoms swayed in the light breeze. In the distance, sunshine glinted off a creek, and as they drew closer, she spotted Timothy with two boys who looked like miniatures of Menar.

“Are those your sons?” Evangeline asked.

“They care for donkey.”

“Thank you. Truly.”

The woman glanced back at her. “No need thank you. You are guest.”

“I appreciate your hospitality all the same. May I express my gratitude with a drawing? I promised your husband a portrait of you, and I will draw your children if you like.”

Her expression softened as she watched her children playing. “Yes, I like.”

Evangeline quickly washed her face, arms, and legs without undressing, and they headed back to the camp with Kiya’s sons running ahead. She glanced back at Timothy, who seemed content to nibble grass along the bank.

The men were gone when they returned. She looked around for Jonathan, her heartbeat speeding up.

“Gavundi,” Kiya said.

Evangeline furrowed her brow.

“Men gavundi,” Kiya repeated and tapped her fingers against her thumb several times like it was a mouth.

“Talking?”

“Yes, tell big stories.”

“Ah, gossiping.”

Kiya shrugged and laughed.

Their belongings had been brought to Menar and Kiya’s tent, and Kiya informed her they would be staying with the family. They were definitely keeping her and Jonathan from speaking privately.

Her smile was tight as she thanked their hostess.

Kiya kept the boys out of the tent while Evangeline changed into a clean gown. When she returned with her sketchbook and charcoals, Kiya wanted her sons drawn first, which was quite a feat when they wanted to wrestle every few minutes.

Their mother would break up their scuffles and force them to sit, and Evangeline would race to capture their precious faces before another tussle ensued.

“Done,” Evangeline said and passed the drawing to their mother. Kiya’s eyes glimmered with tears as she studied it.

“Thank you for big gift.”

Evangeline’s cheeks heated with pleasure.