Ethelwyn’s neck is again threatened
Flann had not set foot in the study since the night she had arrived a month and a half before. Sir Egelric had declared it off-limits to the two of them, and when Egelric growled, the girls listened.
However, they did wonder why they had been banished from the room. Was it because it was so private, windowless, and cozy? Was it because Egelric and Ethelwyn both liked to come here to work—or simply be—alone? Was it because the door to Ethelwyn’s bedchamber was right there on the far wall, next to the bookcase? Delightful possibilities, all.
It was a wonderful, warm, and manly room, too, she thought. There was not a scrap of lace or braid in it, but only books and pens and knives, cushionless benches, and, half-hidden on a shelf, a few cups and a tightly-corked jug of wine. The remarkable thing was that it was so tidy. This no longer seemed incongruous to her, though; she knew now that Ethelwyn was a very tidy man. And wouldn’t it be something to have a husband who picked up after himself!
Ethelwyn closed the door behind them and went to stand in the center of the room, feet planted well apart, back straight, arms folded across his chest, and head high. Wouldn’t it be something to have a husband who looked so fine even when he was about to scold one!
“Swimming?”
“Isn’t that how you say in English?” Catan asked.
“If by ‘swimming’ you mean ‘removing all or some part of one’s garments and immersing oneself in some body of water in plain view of God and who knows who else,’ then, yes, that is how we say it in English.”
“That’s it, then!” Catan laughed. “Swimming!”
“Oh my God!” He turned away from them and stroked his hand anxiously through the curls that cascaded down the back of his neck.
“We know how to swim,” Flann pointed out.
“I’m glad to hear it! But, ladies! You can’t—where did you go?”
“There’s the sweetest spot about a mile up the hill,” Catan explained eagerly, “up the stony path. With a wee waterfall of a rill, and a pool just right for swimming! Have you ever seen it?”
“Seen it? Oh my God! Ladies! Many people know that spot! Many people go there. I go there!”
“You do?” Catan gasped.
“When do you go?” Flann asked him.
“Never mind when I go! But you can’t go there! What if someone had seen you? What were you—what did you—”
His face was growing red enough that Flann was able to fill in the missing half of the question. “Oh, we don’t wear anything at all. Why?”
“Oh my God!” he moaned. “What if someone had seen you?”
“That’s why we brought our maids! They watch, we swim!”
“Why? What do your English girls wear?” Catan asked.
“Nothing!” he cried. “I mean—they don’t swim at all! I mean—not the ladies! Ladies!”
“But what do they do to get cool in the summer?”
“How in the—the name of goodness should I know? But they don’t swim. Ask my lady if you want to know what they do. But you must not swim in the out-of-doors.”
“I don’t like that at all!” Catan said.
“Then you may discuss the matter with Sir Egelric when he returns, but for now he has gone off and left me to watch over your virtue, and if I—”
“Left you!” Catan laughed. “That’s fine!”
“Leave a handsome young bachelor to watch over the virtue of two young ladies!” Flann laughed with her. “I like this country!”
“I suppose you leave a cat to watch the cream, too!” Catan hooted. “And a mouse to watch the cheese!”
Flann jabbed her elbow into her sister’s ribs. The Duchess had told them they mustn’t mention mice in Ethelwyn’s presence. She hoped that Catan had only forgotten. She also hoped that Ethelwyn’s red face was only due to his confusion.
“I only meant that there are no other men here to watch over you with a—a man’s point of view.”
“Are you watching us, then?” Catan smiled slyly.
“I mean,” he said gruffly to hide his discomposure, “that my lady might not realize that there are men who would deliberately sneak up there to try to see you…”
“They shouldn’t!” Flann huffed. “That’s not right.”
“They don’t care about wrong and right! They only want to… to see you…”
“And if they do?” Catan cried. “What is that to us? They won’t steal our beauty by looking at it!”
Ethelwyn’s eyes went wide. Flann thought that her sister had been a little overbold, but her statement might have been calculated to draw precisely that reaction. It would be something to have a husband who was so much fun to tease!
“Then, ladies, you force me to remind you that there are men who would not content themselves with looking.”
“And for them we have this!” Catan whipped out the slender knife she wore in the waist of her dress and had it at Ethelwyn’s throat before he had the time to recompose his dour expression after pronouncing his unnecessary reminder.
“Oh… my… God…” he whispered. But Catan was not holding him, and he was able to slowly draw his head away from the blade.
“Our father taught all of us to fight with knives,” Catan grinned as she put her knife away. “I suppose your English girls can’t.”
“I suppose not… But where do you…”
“When we swim?” Catan giggled. “That’s our secret!”
