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The mare rubbed her jaw on his shoulder, and he stepped away. But not too far. The contact was soothing.
“You, my lady, are strong of heart and fearless. Very like another new acquaintance of mine.” Each encounter with the lady apothecary was like a draught of cool fresh water after decades in the desert. Unlike the rest of that lot in Lowell Hall and, before that, Carlton House, he did not detect an ounce of fear from her, whether due to his species or his state of being. When she ate with her fingers! “Had I been the duke I was,” he said, stroking Delilah’s jaw, “I would waste no time in investigating the possibility of theconiunctio.”
The mare’s ears flicked with interest. “Amongst my kind—not the Welsh, the lions—we have an elevation of thevera amorisbond, which we have kept amongst ourselves. Theconiunctiodemands the bonded pair bring their example out into the world, to serve allversipellestogether, no matter their species. It is a tremendous responsibility, one many are relieved to find they do not have. It is not for the faint of heart, oh no. It is the truest balance of masculine and feminine, discernment and empathy wedded with compassion and detachment. I had hoped, before I was taken, that I might…”
The horse pricked her ears and nudged his shoulder until he turned.
Speak of the lady and the lady appeared.
And she appeared to have attracted the attention of more than oneversipellis.
***
One of Lowell’s seemingly numberless footmen had brought a note from Felicity, asking for Tabitha’s assistance with one of the stable lads. He’d run afoul of a patch of nettles and required a poultice.
While she did not wish the poor lad pain, she hoped this was an actual need for her intervention and not a sop to her supposed role. Busywork was not going to occupy her for long; she had started concocting creams and soaps with her healthful combinations of herbs for lack of anything better to do. She would not wish illness on anyone either, but she sincerely wanted to be useful.
Would she be any use at all to the Welsh duke? As gauche as her choice to eat with her fingers was, it had allowed him to feed himself. Eating well and properly would serve to increase his physical health; the health of his mind could only follow. She had neglected to pursue that line of thought over the teacups: Did he think himself into his animal skin—no, into his essential self?
She was so lost in her thoughts, she almost plowed into a man. “Oh! Do forgive me, I was walking and woolgathering.”
“Sadly, I am not a sheep.” Tabitha would never mistake the rangy fellow for one of that species. His smile seemed to be full of more than his fair share of teeth, and his scrap of beard waggled as he laughed. He was clearly a goat, from his bowed legs to his narrow eyes, which lit on her with pleasure. “Were I one, I would gladly donate whatever wool I could spare did you require it.”
“You are, er, most kind.” Oh dear, that was effusive. “Wool is an effective bandage, and one can never have enough of it.”
“You don’t want no truck with the sheep around here, dozy lads, the lot of them.”
“I shall take your word for it.” They stood. The man beamed and said nothing more. “I am Miss Barrington.”
“I am Mr. Giles. Please accept this token as my way of welcoming you to Lowell Close.” He thrust into her hands a log of cheese, done up with some flair in a brightly colored tea towel.
“How very kind of you. I will be sure to—oh.”
The goat was jostled out of the way by a fellow whose roundness of shape and wideness of mouth indicated he was a frog. “Miss Barrington, you are very welcome to our little part of the world.” He bowed and extended his hand. “I am Mr. Padmore, and here is a mere token of my army’s—er, my clan’s delight at your arrival among us.” He handed her a muslin bag whose contents clattered; she felt it rude to examine it in his presence and put both the cheese and this offering in her trug.
“Oh, lovely, I will be sure to—”
“Miss Barrington,” the frog began.
“Miss Barring—” the goat said; he was elbowed by the frog and gave as good as he got. “I was here first, Padmore, jog on like a good lad.”
“Your hesitancy is not my fault, Giles, you sneaky little—”
“Miss Barrington, I would very much like to fetch you a cup of cheer on Ostara Eve,” said the goat.
At the same time, the frog blurted, “Miss Barrington, if you would accompany me to the lighting of the fire and thecursio, I would be most honored.”
“I am sorry, both of you, but O’Mara has cautioned against myself and my brother attending.” The relief Tabitha experienced was mighty indeed.
“If I may trouble you, then, for a salve?” Mr. Giles gestured vaguely at his head. “I’ve the worst case of, of hives. On my scalp?”
“I am in need of a tonic something fierce, miss!” Mr. Padmore exclaimed. “My indigestion is troubling me. In the night? Destroying my sleep.”
Neither sounded convinced of the legitimacy of their woes. “Leave that with me, gentlemen. I see the Duke of Llewellyn near that paddock and must consult with him.”
The men bowed, disappointed but, by their expressions, undaunted. She picked up her pace and stopped short of a full-out run.
“Good day, Your Grace,” she called as she came upon him at the fence. This was where Felicity kept her mares; the one in company with the duke was Delilah, against whom she and Timothy had been warned. The horse had an uncannily measuring look in her eye, and Tabitha was tempted to curtsy. If she didn’t have the information of her senses, she would think twice before she named this one ahorsehorse.
