The Stolen One by Suzanne Crowley Page B

attention back to Rafael, who sat at the table with the wide grin of a wolf on his face. There was no sign of the minstrel he last was, for he was dressed now for all the world to see as the son of a lord, his clothes rich and fine, with a bit of a foreign look to them. He pushed away his elaborate breakfast and put one booted leg up on the table.
    “Well, Mamá?”
    “ Fa , you bad son, you.” Lady Ludmore slapped him on the top of his head.
    “Ouch,” he yelped.
    And she slapped him again. “Do you know how much misery you’ve caused me?”
    “Yes, yes.” He was half yelping, half laughing. She continued to slap at him. Maisy and Ava peered from the kitchen, their hands over their mouths.
    “Why, I’ve almost died, I have, looking for you. Kicked by a cow in Wiltshire. Brought down sick in Oxford by a ghastly blackbird pie. And do you know what trouble you’ve sown with your wicked ways? Do you?” Ava’s face disappeared from the doorway, then Maisy’s.
    “Mamá, is this the greeting I’m to get?”
    She finally stopped slapping him and stood back, breathing hard. “Get your nasty feet off my table. Have you not ever learned your manners?” He moved his feet down, still smiling at her.
    “You must be hungry. You are thin as a bog reed, you are.” She clapped her hands. “Maisy,” she bellowed. “More food for my boy!”
    But her boy had turned his attention on Anna. Anna did not return his stare.
    Lady Ludmore narrowed her eyes. “You won’t be staying here tonight. I have guests. And they are good girls, the both of them.”
    He turned his eyes to me. And I held them fast. “You, I’ve seen before,” he said. He smiled and laughed. “Why, it’s the little country heartbreaker.”
    Lady Ludmore narrowed her eyes at me, then looked back at her son. “As though your heart could be broken,” she said. “That will be the day I can rest in peace—when I know you truly possess a heart.”
    “Oh Mamá,” he said, taking a swig of ale. “Always hysterics and tears. She didn’t tarry with my heart. She tarried with some poor, spineless pear farmer. I heard all about it in an alehouse in Gloucester. Seems she left him standing in the abbey, and when he set out to search for her, the idiot stepped in a rabbit’s hole and broke his foot.” He laughed.
    Anna had moved behind me. She was gripping my arm, trying to get the best view of his lips she could. “Your mother is right,” I said loud and clear. “You have no manners or heart.”
    “Oh, don’t look so stricken maids, the both of you. Your love will be fine. Some old hooked-nose woman set the bone.” But this knowledge did not in any way ease my worry—Old Hookey, for this is who he spoke of,for sure—used the ancient ways in setting bones. The last one she set belonged to her own husband, and he hobbled for years afterward. “And all those old women are bringing him food. And of course he has the marked attention of the alehouse’s daughter.” God’s me. Piper. He was talking of Piper.
    Maisy entered with another tray and set it in front of Rafael. He pinched her rear and then started to eat, like a big hungry bear. Lady Ludmore collapsed in the chair next to him.
    “If you will excuse me.” I nodded to Lady Ludmore, curtsied, and backed up, ready to make my escape. I started for the stairs, feeling Lord Ludmore’s gaze upon me as I did so. Anna, relieved, followed. I’d immediately pack our bags. We’d go home to Christian. He needed us. Those old women would not know how to take care of him. Nor his lambs. And Piper. My face started to burn. But there at the top of the stairs was Bartolome, wide-eyed and agitated. When I reached the top of the stairs, he clung to my legs so long I thought I’d fall over. Finally he whispered, “Don’t leave.”
     
    The next morning Anna had another one of her spells, not as bad as before, but she could not sit up. The nightbefore we’d all stayed late at the table, Lady Ludmore full