“Good morn, Eli,” Simon said after a sip from his cup. “Sleep well?”
“Despite ye kickin’ me half the night,” Elias told him with a murderous look. “Aye, I did.”
“I know.” His friend grinned at him, stretching the small scar under his bottom lip. “And after crying out and walking the floors only once!”
Elias’ foul mood was shattered and replaced with mortification. He had night terrors last eve? He paled as memories returned, memories of blood and hellish odors, and a beautiful angel calling for him to come away and follow her. It had been Lily. Her voice, her touch, stealing him away from the horror, and bringing him into a different kind of radiant light.
She had seen him trembling. Afraid. “Lass, I…” Hell. He didn’t know what to say. He was lost. He had been a commander in King David’s army and now he trembled and tried to hide in the night. “I am not…forgive me fer…”
Her sapphire eyes grew rounder with compassionate for him. “What are you asking me to forgive, sir? That you witnessed things God never intended a man to see and it scarred you? It affected you because you are human just like the rest of us.” She smiled and made him ache to say more to her. “There is nothing to forgive, I assure you, Elias.”
Her voice sounded as it had last night; calm, sincere, and patient in her light, musical tone. He couldn’t help but smile. “I slept quite well after yer soothin’ ministrations.”
“I made you tea you did not even drink!” she told him happily.
It was being here. With her. She cared about people in the world. She was genuine. Being with her felt right. Better than anything else that he could remember since going off to fight. She made him want to stay here. Should he tell Simon later and take whatever penance came?
“Well,” she said bringing him his mead. “I am happy you finally slept well.”
“Better than all the rest of us, ‘twould seem,” Simon laughed then explained when Elias gave him a questioning look. “You are the last one up.”
Elias hadn’t overslept in years.
“Richard was the first one up. He left for the shop.”
Elias turned to have a look out the window. He would eat quickly. “Forgive me at least fer sleepin’ late.”
“No.” She turned only enough to grace him with her profile. It seemed she was unable or unwilling to look him straight in the eyes. “I’m happy you slept well. I want nothing more than to see you…” She stopped, shook her head and corrected herself. “…folks well. You do not like your mead?”
Oh, how he wanted to smile at her yet again. “’Tis apple, aye?”
She turned around fully to toss him a pleasantly surprised look at him. “Aye, how did you know? You recognize the fragrance?”
He nodded then drank from his cup. “’Tis perfect, Lily.”
He could feel Simon’s eyes on him, his own muscles trembling beneath his léine, his heart pounding like an alarm in his chest.
“I grew bored of honey and lemon,” she told him merrily while she prepared his bowl—and he tried to take his eyes off her. “I also use mint.”
“I would be curious to taste mint,” he chuckled. Hell, he chuckled. He hadn’t done the like in years.
“Tomorrow then,” she promised.
Was he staying until tomorrow?
She set before him a bowl of poached eggs and wilted, season greens. She also pushed forward another larger bowl of bread, along with cups of butter and honey.
He ate, and the food alone made him never want to leave Sevenoaks again. He didn’t ask for any more eggs, as she had done enough for them, but helped himself to the remainder of the bread after she insisted he finish it.
He and Simon helped her clean up, though she fretted about them doing so. Simon explained that they’d learned to clean up after themselves in the army. If they didn’t do it, no one would.
When the house was to her liking, they left together.
They saw two of Lily’s female neighbors. They wore wimples covering their hair, ears, and necks, along with dyed kirtles. They soon hurried over.
“Good day, Lily.” The ladies said in unison. One was Estrid, the owner of The Pheasant Inn. “I was just telling Agnes aboutyourguests.”
The shift of her eyes caught sight of Simon’s scars, and though this was now the third time she had seen him and Elias, she was still taken back by the marks. Most people were. Most grimaced straight at him the way Estrid did now. Elias was used to seeing it. He never stopped hating it.