Mother Curran arranges things

Ethelwyn now regretted not having used his hour on horseback to think of some “business” he could transact in order to have an explanation to present to his master when he returned home. That hour had certainly not permitted him to think of something coherent to say to the girl when he saw her, and since he was not to see her anyway, it would have been wasted even if he had.

Paying a short visit to Lady Iylaine and Sir Malcolm was not the sort of excuse he could present to Sir Egelric – if he did, he would surely be in for several days’ teasing about his sudden passion for the Warty Mother – but it would at least give him a chance to warm up his aching ears while he thought of another.

“Wyn! Wyn!” Mother Curran declared when she opened the door. “Oh my stars! Come in, come in out of the cold, you poor lamb! And with your poor ears uncovered! For shame! I never knew a man what loved his hair more and his ears less! Mind you, I love them both! You dove!”

“Good evening, Mother,” Ethelwyn smiled and dodged her attempts to pull his cloak from his shoulders. “I only stopped in to see Sir Malcolm and his lady, if they’re in.”

“Well, of course that blessed lamb is home with her blessed baby, but Sir Malcolm, he went out to dine at Sir Sigefrith’s, that he did, and left his poor pigeons to me.”

“They could not be better guarded, I’m certain,” Ethelwyn said.

“But my little lady don’t feel all that chatty tonight, and I did tell her to take a lie-​​down till her lord come home, but if you’re here…”

“No, no!” Ethelwyn gasped. “I don’t wish to disturb her. Of course, not, Mother. I only hoped to greet Sir Malcolm, since I was passing by… but if he’s not here…”

“Well, that don’t matter. You just come in and sit a while by the fire,” she said, tugging on his cloak again, “and warm up your poor ears. And I’ll give you something hot to drink. You had supper already?”

“Yes, Mother, I already ate,” Ethelwyn said, laughing desperately. “I shan’t stay. I’m only passing by. I have some business around here.”

“Oh, well!” Mother Curran huffed.

“But… you don’t… you don’t need someone to take a message to Sir Malcolm, do you? I might pass that way on my way to do my business…”

“No, I don’t see what.”

“Oh!” Ethelwyn said, nodding in agreement though he thought it rather a shame.

Mother Curran busied herself straightening and brushing off his cloak, since he would not allow her to remove it. Ethelwyn was so utterly out of ideas that he stood idly and watched her do it.

“Well…” she said thoughtfully after she had him arranged to her liking. “You might stop and tell him that his lady feels a little low tonight, and he might not want to tarry too long, since she do like to stay up to wait for him. But that’s only if you’re passing by,” she said. “It’s not real important. Sir Malcolm he never do stay out too late anyway, not since he had his precious turtle. And who would? I wonder!”

“I don’t know…”

“I know you’re thinking you might,” she said confidentially and patted him on the shoulders. “But just you wait till you have some turtles of your own, and then you’ll see.”

“Perhaps,” Ethelwyn said. “But I believe that – if I have children, of course – I shall simply have ordinary babies, and not turtles or pups or whatever this family will invent next.”

“You say that now!” Mother Curran said sagely. “I think you’ll be the silliest one yet! Having hedgehogs or ferrets or – what do I know? Rodents!”