Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [53]
"I like horses." I yawned again. "And I nearly think I could sleep now. Do you mind if I stay?"
"A bear-witch." He wasn't ready to let it go yet. "With D'Angeline blood?"
"Aye." I shrugged into my dress. "Do you mind? I won't even ask to share your blanket. I've one in my pack."
He thought about it, a slow smile spreading over his face. "A bear-witch and me. No. I don't mind."
I fetched my blanket. "Good."
In the morning, I woke to find Theo splashing at the horse trough, scrubbing himself with a rag and a bit of soap. He gave me a shy, wondering smile and offered to share his soap, as well as journeycake and cheese from his own satchel.
"Or I could buy you a meal at the inn," I suggested. "I ate a capon with the most delicious herb there last night. Rosemary. Do you know it?"
He laughed. "Yes, of course. All right, then."
The morning's meal was just as delicious, eggs whipped and baked in a manner Theo told me was called an omelette. There was goats' cheese melted into it and it was scattered with another shredded herb unfamiliar to me. I sniffed at it when the platter was set before me.
"Basil," the serving woman said in response to my inquiring glance.
"Basil," I echoed. She shook her head and walked away.
"I take it the—" Theo lowered his voice. "The Maghuin Dhonn aren't much for cooking."
"Oh, my mother's a right skilled cook," I assured him. "It's only that these are herbs that don't grow wild in Alba—or at least not where we lived."
He looked askance at me. "You lived in the wild?"
"Aye," I said wistfully. "But I'm learning." I took a bite of my omelette. The melted cheese was pungent and so hot it almost scalded my tongue and the basil was unfamiliar and delightful. "This helps."
As we dined, I could see Theo grow more at ease in my company, deciding by daylight that mayhap a bear-witch wasn't entirely as fearsome and mysterious as legend would have it—or at least not one so easily pleased by a simple dish of cooked eggs. I felt strange after what had passed between us last night, but not as guilty as I might have thought. Life called to life. Somewhere, the bright lady smiled. Theo seemed a decent enough fellow, and his black hair and dark eyes reminded me of home and family in a nice way. By the time we returned to the post station, I thought mayhap the remainder of the journey might be more tolerable than I'd reckoned.
I was wrong.
There were two new passengers joining us, D'Angeline ladies of middle years. They were overdressed, overcoiffed, and over-perfumed, chattering together in voluble tones. My heart sank when I saw them.
"Oh, my!" One of them lifted a magnifying glass on a stick to her eyes and peered at me through it. "Wherever are you from, my dear?"
"Alba," I murmured.
"She must be a half-breed" the other whispered in the overly audible tones of the hard of hearing.
The first tut-tutted. "Such a pretty thing! So exotic." She fiddled with a lock of my hair and sniffed. "But you simply must do something with your hair, my dear."
I glanced around for Theo, but he was making adjustments to the harness and avoiding my gaze. I sighed. "Aye, my lady," I agreed. "No doubt I must."
In short order we were bundled into the coach.
The ladies—widowed sisters come from visiting a third sister and her family, introduced themselves as Florette d'Aubert and Lydia Postel—insisted on drawing the curtains to cut the wind's chill. They settled into the seat facing me, their stiff, voluminous skirts spreading to crowd the space between us. The scent of their perfume permeated the coach.
"Now." Florette smoothed her skirts. "Moirin, is it?"
"Aye, my lady." I'd given my name as Moirin mac Fainche, reckoning it wiser not to mention the Maghuin Dhonn to these two.
She lifted one finger in admonishment. "Don't say aye, dear. Only vulgar common people say aye."
"Yes, my lady," I said obediently.
"I can't make out what she's saying!" Lydia complained in a harsh whisper. "Her accent is atrocious!"
I cleared my throat and mimicked Florette's tone. "Yes,