Had We Never Loved by Patricia Veryan

Glendenning. He muttered, “And then Mr. Cranford rescued you. Hmm. Do you remember nothing of your childhood before you were stolen?”
    The youth considered, and said slowly, “I remember a big bed, and a dog, and a white pony. And a tall, very kind man, who told me stories at night. But … I do not think he spoke to me in English, sir.”
    â€œDo you know which language he did use?”
    Florian shook his head. “But I could read English. Not much at first, but Absalom helped me. He is such a fine man. When I ran away he let me borrow his donkey and cart, but the tribe said I’d stolen them. I’ve got a horse of my own now, and I brought back Uncle Ab’s donkey and cart.” His eyes flashed. “As if I’d steal from him !”
    â€œNo, of course not. He would appear to have been a very good friend to both you and Amy. You said she would be safe with him. Safe from what? Did someone threaten her?”
    â€œShe started to grow up,” said Florian simply. “And she was pretty. Absalom adopted her to keep them from selling her to a Flash House, but the chals —er, the young men, were always fighting over which one would buy her for his wife. She would have none of them, and she has her little knife, but Absalom was often away, and they gave her no peace. She caused much trouble, and by the law of the tribe, sooner or later she would have been forced to take one of them for her mate. So Absalom bought her out of the tribe and they came here to live.”
    â€œThey live here?” Glendenning looked around at the stark chamber, the few pieces of rickety furniture, the single window high up in the cold rock wall. “Good God!”
    The youth smiled mirthlessly. “This is a fine place for such as us, sir. It is dry, and there is another room we use for a kitchen, and where Absalom sleeps when he’s here.”
    â€œâ€™Tis a blasted ruin! It was the cellar of some old house, I’ll warrant.”
    â€œYes. The main part of the house was on the hill. It burned down long ago, and was abandoned. Nobody comes here now because it is said to be haunted. But this cellar is partly below ground, and quite hidden away, and we built a fireplace, so it’s not too cold in winter.”
    â€œAnd why are you here now? Did the Cranfords turn you off?”
    â€œI hope not, milord. Amy can write.” He said it as though it rated a twenty-one gun salute, and, quite aware of the effort that must have gone into such an achievement, Glendenning said gravely that he thought that splendid. The youth beamed, and went on. “She sent a letter saying that Absalom was ill, and she couldn’t manage. So I had to come. He is better now, and will be off, and I must go back.” His teeth flashed in a white grin. “Mr. Peregrine Cranford cannot go along without me, you see.”
    Glendenning stared at him. “What d’you mean? Where will Absalom be off to?”
    â€œHe’ll be off about his business,” growled Absalom, coming in the door holding a bulging sack. “And you need not be thinking as ye can—”
    â€œWhat’s all this?” Following him in, Amy frowned. “You shouldn’t be up so soon, lordship! Florian, I told ye plain—”
    â€œYou see?” said Florian, laughing. “Good-bye, milord. Good-bye Ab. I’m away!” He seized Amy, gave her a quick kiss, and was gone.
    â€œWait, ye young care-for-nobody!” Absalom thrust the sack at Amy, and hurried after Florian.
    Amy eyed the viscount anxiously. “How are you this morning? You must be fair daft to—” She faltered, and smoothed her windblown hair, her cheeks becoming pink. “Why d’ye stare at me so?”
    Yesterday, after she had dressed the infected wound above his right ankle, he had been exhausted and had slept most of the rest of the day away. With the instinctive reaction he’d developed