Part 12 (1/2)
”How long do you think it will take me to learn to play?” she asked.
”I suppose it depends on how much you practice.”
”Should I practice every day? How much do you practice? How long did it take before you were any good? You said you taught yourself, so how did you learn without anyone to teach you?”
Ewan winced as her questions a.s.sailed him, but deep down inside he was relieved. In truth, he had been concerned by her earlier quietness.
Now she was back to her normal, chattering self.
They rode for several hours before they neared the meadow where he normally rested his horse when he made this trip alone.
Today his favorite spot under the large oak tree was already occupied. d.a.m.n. He'd have to find them a new place to settle down for a rest.
Ewan was leading her away front the small group of people who were eating when an older man waved to them.
”Greetings, my lord. Would you and your lady care to pa.s.s the midday meal with us? We've plenty to share.”
Ewan sized them up. It was an older man, three younger ones, and a woman. With the exception of a blond man who watched them with deviltry in his eyes, they appeared harmless enough. Either peddlers or gypsies of some sort judging by their covered wagon and clothes.
The woman had hair as black as jet and eyes that were slanted like a cat's. The older man had the same dark skin, but his hair was all gray.
His gaze went back to the blond man who gave him a nod and a smile and appeared to be amused now, not threatening.
Nay, there would be no harm in resting with them.
”What say you, Nora?”
She offered him a broad smile. ”I think it would be pleasant to pa.s.s a meal with someone who will do more than grunt at my questions.”
He grimaced at her.
”Or give me that look,” she added.
Ewan accepted the invitation. He helped Nora down and noted the way she continued to clutch the lute to her as if it were unspeakably precious. It was all he could do not to smile at her actions.
How could anyone derive so much pleasure from so cheap a gift?
The youngest of the men came forward to help him tend the horses. His skin was almost as dark as a Saracen and his black hair was curly and thick. He wore a green s.h.i.+rt with a red sash knotted at his waist.
”My name is Bavel,” he said, extending his arm.
Ewan inclined his head and shook the man's proffered arm. ”Ewan MacAllister.”
Bavel indicated the older man who had waved them over. ”That is our Uncle Viktor, and my cousins Lysander and Catarina. The blond man is another traveler we picked up who goes by the name of Pagan.”
Ewan nodded at each of them in turn while Catarina quickly befriended Nora.
”What brings you to MacAllister lands?” Ewan asked Bavel as the man moved to rub down Nora's mare.
”Just pa.s.sing through.”
”Are you peddlers?”
”Entertainers. There's a fair in Arrowsbough that we're headed to.”
Ewan fell silent as he fed and watered his horse. Nora's easy laughter and chattering filled his ears as she and the others talked.
”Have you traveled all your life?” she asked Catarina.
”Aye, since the moment I was born.”
”Where have you been?”
”Everywhere.”
Nora took a sip of wine before she continued her inquisition. ”Have you ever been to Aquitaine?”
”I was born just to the south of it.”
”Nay, truly?”
”Truly.”
Nora's face turned dreamy and soft, making Ewan's body react instantly. He would love to put that look on her face after a night spent sating his aching loins.
”Oh, I would love to travel about,” Nora said, her voice thick and heady. ”You're so fortunate to have an uncle who allows you to join him.”
”Aye, I am indeed.”
After a few minutes Bavel leaned forward. ”Does your lady ever run short of questions?”
”Nay, she does not.”
Bavel pulled back from him and muttered. ”No wonder you drink.”
Ewan stiffened at the words that had been whispered under Bavel's breath. Words he barely heard. ”I beg your pardon?”
Bavel cleared his throat. ”I said I would be drinking if I had to travel with such a woman.”
Ewan frowned. Had he heard the man wrongly?
”Ewan!” Nora called. ”You must come taste this stew. 'Tis marvelous fare. The best I've ever found.”
Catarina beamed in satisfaction. ” 'Tis a recipe my mother taught me.”
”Does your mother not travel with you?” Nora asked.
”Nay, she is in Anjou with my father.”