grey hesitated at the base of the tree before scurrying over to sniff the offering. Deeming it suitable, he delicately removed it from her fingers and dashed off.
Out of the corner of her eye Elinor saw Basil appear. He sat down just as the grey hopped over to take another nut.
"Trusting little fellow."
“Yes, he came down rather fast considering they don't come in contact with many people." Elinor remained still so the squirrel wouldn't be scared off.
As though sensing Basil's ghostly presence, the squirrel laid his half-eaten walnut down and scampered over. He sniffed furiously, sat on his haunches and chittered at Basil. The noisy chirping continued for about a minute before he stopped and appeared to wait. Apparently concluding he wasn't going to get anything worthwhile, he showed his backside, gave his tail several hard shakes and scurried back to the walnut.
Elinor leaned close to Basil. "I believe there was a rude comment about you in that tail action."
"Probably still bears a grudge over the squirrel-trimmed cloak I gave my mother one year." He peered over Elinor's shoulder and noticed her little walnut pile.
Basil shifted so he knelt on one knee and pointed to the nuts in her hand. "Do you want to know an old custom of ours?"
"I'd love to."
He placed his hand over hers so she'd close her fingers. "We used acorns, but walnuts will do. You throw a handful into the air and make as many wishes as you can before the first one lands."
Elinor stood and threw upward as high as she could. The squirrel's ears perked as the nuts landed softly in the leaves. "I got three wishes in. I've never heard of that custom."
"I'd be surprised if you had. I just made it up. I needed to lure you away from your woodland friends so you’d go for a walk with me." Basil extended his hand, and they strolled along the bank of the stream.
The mist hung thicker and heavier in the places where the stream widened. The trees formed a canopy, thinning only where the spring sunlight filtered through. The alder leaves had a silver hue in the light, intermingling for a pretty mix with the greens of the oaks and ash. Surrounded by the forest’s neutral tones Elinor felt part of an artist’s watercolor.
They walked without speaking. Basil kept his hands clasped behind his back and the pace slow.
When he first sat down, she hadn't paid attention to his clothes. Now, as he got a few steps ahead, she noticed his white linen shirt and black breeches resembled the attire he'd tried to wear to the village. Were those breeches as formfitting and thigh hugging as the ones today? She'd been too nervous that day to take in all the details. Her gaze slid down his thighs where soft black boots came up to his knees. Elinor surreptitiously scanned his backside. Oh yeah, you definitely benefited from all that time in the saddle.
His hair was pulled back into a queue again only today he sported a small gold earring. In a million years she'd never have pictured Basil wearing an earring. Guy yes, Basil no. It suited him. He looked like a pirate, a very sexy movie pirate. She reluctantly broke off the lusty perusal before she got caught and embarrassed herself. Good thing too, because Basil turned to her a moment later.
"Last night you asked me whether I loved Gwendolyn. And by the way, I forgive you for your outrageous outburst. You seemed quite curious about her."
Elinor stopped several feet back, hands jammed into her jeans pockets. She gave him her best, stone-faced stare, feigning umbrage. Basil's "forgiveness" didn’t offend her, not really. However, she didn't want the haughty devil to think the audacity of his comment went unnoticed. Her pretended indignation failed.
Basil impatiently motioned for her to catch up. "Don't get your feathers ruffled and come here while I'm talking to you."
“Devil,” Elinor huffed and joined him.
"I wondered if you've ever been in love."
Although they stood side-by-side, Basil's face was shielded from her view
Out of the corner of her eye Elinor saw Basil appear. He sat down just as the grey hopped over to take another nut.
"Trusting little fellow."
“Yes, he came down rather fast considering they don't come in contact with many people." Elinor remained still so the squirrel wouldn't be scared off.
As though sensing Basil's ghostly presence, the squirrel laid his half-eaten walnut down and scampered over. He sniffed furiously, sat on his haunches and chittered at Basil. The noisy chirping continued for about a minute before he stopped and appeared to wait. Apparently concluding he wasn't going to get anything worthwhile, he showed his backside, gave his tail several hard shakes and scurried back to the walnut.
Elinor leaned close to Basil. "I believe there was a rude comment about you in that tail action."
"Probably still bears a grudge over the squirrel-trimmed cloak I gave my mother one year." He peered over Elinor's shoulder and noticed her little walnut pile.
Basil shifted so he knelt on one knee and pointed to the nuts in her hand. "Do you want to know an old custom of ours?"
"I'd love to."
He placed his hand over hers so she'd close her fingers. "We used acorns, but walnuts will do. You throw a handful into the air and make as many wishes as you can before the first one lands."
Elinor stood and threw upward as high as she could. The squirrel's ears perked as the nuts landed softly in the leaves. "I got three wishes in. I've never heard of that custom."
"I'd be surprised if you had. I just made it up. I needed to lure you away from your woodland friends so you’d go for a walk with me." Basil extended his hand, and they strolled along the bank of the stream.
The mist hung thicker and heavier in the places where the stream widened. The trees formed a canopy, thinning only where the spring sunlight filtered through. The alder leaves had a silver hue in the light, intermingling for a pretty mix with the greens of the oaks and ash. Surrounded by the forest’s neutral tones Elinor felt part of an artist’s watercolor.
They walked without speaking. Basil kept his hands clasped behind his back and the pace slow.
When he first sat down, she hadn't paid attention to his clothes. Now, as he got a few steps ahead, she noticed his white linen shirt and black breeches resembled the attire he'd tried to wear to the village. Were those breeches as formfitting and thigh hugging as the ones today? She'd been too nervous that day to take in all the details. Her gaze slid down his thighs where soft black boots came up to his knees. Elinor surreptitiously scanned his backside. Oh yeah, you definitely benefited from all that time in the saddle.
His hair was pulled back into a queue again only today he sported a small gold earring. In a million years she'd never have pictured Basil wearing an earring. Guy yes, Basil no. It suited him. He looked like a pirate, a very sexy movie pirate. She reluctantly broke off the lusty perusal before she got caught and embarrassed herself. Good thing too, because Basil turned to her a moment later.
"Last night you asked me whether I loved Gwendolyn. And by the way, I forgive you for your outrageous outburst. You seemed quite curious about her."
Elinor stopped several feet back, hands jammed into her jeans pockets. She gave him her best, stone-faced stare, feigning umbrage. Basil's "forgiveness" didn’t offend her, not really. However, she didn't want the haughty devil to think the audacity of his comment went unnoticed. Her pretended indignation failed.
Basil impatiently motioned for her to catch up. "Don't get your feathers ruffled and come here while I'm talking to you."
“Devil,” Elinor huffed and joined him.
"I wondered if you've ever been in love."
Although they stood side-by-side, Basil's face was shielded from her view
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