Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
“Surely that’s enough now,” says Ethram, dropping his basket on the ground. His back is aching. “I’m done.”
Ky laughs. “It’s barely been an hour,” he says. “You need to leave your desk more often.”
Ethram, hands sticky to the wrist with berry sap, glares.
He doesn’t know how a few innocuous canes from the market have become the nightmare that he is currently enduring.
He’s filled both his baskets and, somewhat optimistically, thought that meant he might be done, only for Ky to procure another empty basket from thin air.
Ky, crouched in amongst the thorny tangle, is unflinching. “You’re fortunate the birds have been eating so many of them, or we’d be here even longer.”
“The birds,” says Ethram dourly, “might have tried a little harder, for my sake.”
“You’ll like them well enough when they’re jam,” says Ky, all mildness.
Ethram doesn’t argue, because he will.
“Here, this one is good.” Ky leans over, holding a berry to Ethram’s lips.
It’s sweet, tart. Ky’s fingers linger against his mouth. Ethram glances up, and Ky’s face is frozen, paused halfway to a smile, like he’s been struck. Then the moment moves on, and Ethram thinks he must have imagined it.
“We’ll have too much jam,” says Ethram as the baskets pile up. Really, wherever did they get so many baskets? Ethram can’t remember buying even one of them.
“Then we’ll give some away. Everyone here takes good care of us. It will be nice to be giving for change.”
Ethram picks a stray autumn leaf from his pickings. He’s worked through the elderberries and primberries and even some of the hawthorn haws, but the bulk are bramble berries from the tangle of bushes that Ky left at the back of the garden.
If Ky continues growing the garden at this rate, they’ll hardly have to go to the market at all. Unless it’s to start selling their own excess produce, that is
His pleasant thoughts are disturbed by a knock at the door. He barely catches it, out where they are, but it comes again, forceful and loud. He sighs, puts his basket aside.
“I’ll get it,” says Ky, and heads in. He ducks under the door, as he always does.
Ethram sits on one of the larger stones that edge the garden beds, and nibbles at the berries in his basket.
After a space, Ky returns. He’s a sight, tousled and a touch sweat-damp, shirt undone at the collar, lips darkened with berry juice.
His sleeves ride up his arms, and the picture he makes is a fair way past indecent.
Ethram wonders if he might convince Ky that the autumn leaves are just as lovely for lying in as the summer meadow grass.
As if he catches the direction of his thoughts, Ky’s mouth crooks. Self-satisfied and a little regretful. “Alas, my heart,” he says, standing before Ethram in a way that rather emphasises the thoughts Ethram is currently having. “You’ve things to attend to.”
“I certainly do,” says Ethram feelingly, and Ky laughs.
“I rather meant that there’s a delegation from the university on our front path.”
The words take a full few seconds to make sense, and then Ethram is on his feet in alarm. “Here?” He looks Ky over again. “Gods, and you answered the door like that?”
“They looked alarmed. Curious creatures,” Ky says, unashamed. “I told them you’d be with them shortly. Wash your hands and change your shirt, perhaps.”
Ethram thanks the stars he is not susceptible to blushing, because his ears are burning.
He shoves his basket at Ky and gets himself decent in record time.
He washes in the kitchen sink and runs a comb through his hair.
Then he changes entirely into town clothes, because he’d rather not appear to his colleagues in a knitted jumper and cord trousers.
There are three of them, and a university carriage on the street behind them. They turn as he comes to the front gate, and Taylor and Yates won’t meet his eyes. Larsen is grinning.
“Professors.” Of course it had to be these three. “What brings you here?”
It’s nothing much, in the end. The Luminary board is convened, and they’re at a stalemate in some decision, and have been for some hours. There are only three Luminaries in Esk who are not in attendance, and they are being rather forcibly collected in order to settle the vote.
Taylor had been sent to fetch him. Yates and Larsen had come along because the trio are inseparable and irrepressibly tiresome.
“I’ll fetch my robes,” says Ethram after a moment. “You can tell me all the details on the way.”
The door to the cottage opens, and Ky ducks out. He leans back against the doorframe, Ethram’s robes in his hand. He smiles, and Ethram knows exactly what he’s doing and what the professors are thinking. He can feel their gazes all the way back down the path.
“You are a wretch, Ky,” he mutters. He takes his robes before Ky can think to try putting them on him.
“I’ll see you this afternoon, love,” says Ky, and he isn’t even quiet about it. “I’ll meet you at the tram if it’s getting late.” He ducks to press the lightest of kisses to the corner of Ethram’s mouth.
They’re on their front doorstep. Ethram’s colleagues are on the street behind them, and if they have any decorum, they’ll be looking elsewhere.
“A wretch,” Ethram hisses, and strides off to the carriage. After a beat, his colleagues fall in behind him.
There is a protracted silence as the doors shut. Larsen shuffles in his seat, and then the carriage rolls into movement. Yates opens her mouth, and Ethram pins her with a look that makes her shut it again.
“Hart,” says Larsen, still grinning. “I didn’t know you were married.”
It’s on his lips to deny it, but that would just make more explanation. Ethram shifts his gaze to him. “I do not know if you’re married, either,” he says. “What does it matter?”
“I’m not,” offers Larsen, as if Ethram could possibly want that information. “But hells, if I had someone like that at home, I’d skip Luminary meetings, too.”
Yates snorts back a laugh. Taylor is intent on something out the window, but there’s a smile at the corners of her mouth that she is trying very hard to smother.
Ethram sighs. Half of the faculty will know by the end of the day.
“He’s very tall,” offers Yates. Larsen nods his head in emphatic agreement. “Quite a lot of him.”
Ethram blinks at her. She smiles.
Gods, they’ll get the gossip mill going with comments like that. He resolves to avoid the university for at least the next month.