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“I think I do,” he said, frowning in thought. “I know I have ideas of what I could do with the ingredients you got at the market. Maybe I’m a cook or work at an inn, though I’m not sure what a cook would be doing with armor and a sword.”
Elwyn couldn’t think of a way to protest. Either she let him try or he would want to help her, and she didn’t know what to do with the ingredients she’d bought. “Be my guest,” she said weakly, hoping Gladys didn’t take offense or interfere.
The way he got to work suggested that he did know what he was doing. His brisk, efficient movements were the sort that came from long practice, so that he could do this automatically. He put butter in a pan and put it on a rack over the fire, then cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked them thoroughly before chopping herbs and adding them to the mix. It looked like Gladys was staying out of the way, until the butter began sizzling in the pan, and the pan moved itself away from the fire.
He didn’t notice at first, since his back was turned. Elwyn was just about to jump up to make it look like she was the one who’d moved the pan when he turned around and saw the pan shifting on its own. He glanced at Elwyn, then back at the pan, a crease forming between his brows. “Did that just . . .?” he asked, shaking his head. “No, it did.”
“I, um, have some help with the housework,” she said. “Helpers often come with healers’ cottages. It’s a way of freeing us up to look after others without having all the work of taking care of ourselves.” She gestured toward the pan that was being shaken over the fire to distribute the melted butter around it. “Meet Gladys. She’s been doing all the cooking.”
“Nice to meet you, Gladys,” he said. “I’ve been enjoying your excellent cooking.” With a wink, he added to Elwyn, “And there you were, taking credit for it all.”
“I was trying to hide her from you, since I never know how people will react to magic.”
He frowned in thought. “I don’t think I have a problem with magic. At least, this news doesn’t unsettle me.”
It turned out that he was an excellent cook. Elwyn didn’t dare say so, but he was better than Gladys. She made good, simple food, but he had a deft touch that elevated food to an art form, and it seemed to be something he enjoyed doing. After the meal, Gladys whisked the dishes to the sink and fluttered the curtains, making it clear she was reclaiming her territory.
Instead of going to the sitting room, they went out to the garden. Elwyn wanted to check some of her plants, but she also wanted to talk without Gladys listening in. “You might be a cook,” she said once they were outside. “That was the best meal I’ve had in ages, since I was at court.”
“I wonder if I do that as a trade or if I have a family to look after. Maybe I’m a valet to a nobleman who doesn’t have a full household staff. That might explain the armor, if I was traveling with him. But then was he the one who injured me, or was I defending my master, who was then taken by his enemy?” He went silent as they walked around the garden, and Elwyn gave him the space to think, only speaking after a few minutes had passed.
“The fruit trees seem to be coming along,” she said when they reached the orchard. “If I’m still here in the fall, I should have plenty of apples and pears, and there will be cherries soon.”
“You aren’t sure you’ll be here in the fall?”
“I can’t be sure of anything.” After a long pause, she decided she might as well be honest with him. If he was looking for her, he didn’t remember that at the moment. “I’m afraid I’m something of a fugitive,” she said. “I had to flee my last post, and they were still hunting me down when I found this place. If they catch up to me, I’ll have to leave again. I think I want to stay here, but I’m not sure I can. It’s been a nice respite, though.”
“Why are they looking for you? Does this have anything to do with why you aren’t a healer anymore?”
She examined the leaves on a nearby plant before answering, “Something went wrong with a patient. He wasn’t that badly hurt, but he died, so I must have missed something. I was accused of deliberately letting him die.”
“Did you?”
She bent to smell a rose. Gladys would probably want some petals to make rosewater. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “I didn’t like him. I’d had to rescue many a serving girl from him and deal with the aftereffects. He was like that peddler today, only the court tended to side with him. I have to admit that I wasn’t too heartbroken at his death. If I’d stayed where I was, my life would have been easier without him, though I’m sure there would always be someone behaving like he did. I know I didn’t deliberately cause his death, but I can’t be entirely certain that I did absolutely everything within my power to care for him. I don’t think I fought for him the way I might have cared for someone I didn’t dislike.”
“That’s just being human, isn’t it?”
“A healer doesn’t get to be human in that way. Everyone gets the same treatment.”
“You were at a court, not another cottage like this?”
“Yes. For the past five years I was at the court of a duke.”
“And that’s how you know all about knights.”
“A lot of what I did was patch people up after tournaments and training injuries. I did also look after the people within the palace, including the duke’s children and the staff, so it wasn’t as though I was merely a tournament medic. I was still working as a healer.” Eager to deflect the discussion away from her past, she said, “But I’m curious as to how you know so much about my work. It’s almost as though you’ve trained as a healer, and I’ve never known a male healer.”
“I’ve been wondering that, myself. There are male physicians, and wizards are trained in herbalism.” He frowned. “I’m not sure how I know that. I know a great many things that I don’t remember learning, but I don’t know what I know until I come across it. I’ll have to keep trying new things until I get that vital clue that unlocks my memory.”
“Perhaps you should see if you’ve ever worked in a tea shop. I imagine I’ll be busy today.”
“I was hoping you’d ask.”
Elwyn had guessed correctly that people would be coming to the shop after the morning’s events in the marketplace, either to check on her or to find out who Bryn was. Bryn was particularly popular in a village made mostly of women. The concentration of women got to be too much for Bryn, as gregarious as he was, and he fled after an hour, leaving the shop to her. She couldn’t really blame him. They were all eyeing him as potential husband material, and he had to have felt self-conscious. There was much giggling following his departure.
“Please, ladies,” Mair said. “Elwyn already has first claim on him, and after her it’s me, so there’s no point in hoping.”
“I have placed no claim on him,” Elwyn said as she refilled teacups. Or had she? It wasn’t that she didn’t want him. She couldn’t want him because she didn’t know who he was or whether he was even free. “But I believe it’s his choice what he does.”
