Chapter 26 Liam #2
Whatever he said next was drowned out by the sound of Ma’s cleaver slamming through the evening’s meat. “Gonna stare at that door all night or help me get these meals out?”
“Sorry. It’s just—”
“Chop now. Talk later.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I resumed my work but reserved part of my effort for more strained listening, though the stranger’s tone had vanished in favor of the guests’ raucous chorus once more.
Hours later, the last guest finally retired to their room, allowing us to remove tankards and wipe down tables. The evening had been a success, with the players and Mr. Pretty Bum stealing the stage and more than a few hearts.
Ma chattered away, but I heard none of it.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the Priest.
I saw his eyes, his rounded lips, the curve of his chest beneath his clinging, silky robe.
Stop that, I chided, wiping my now-sweaty brow with a shirtsleeve. He probably lives by some code of celibacy or reclusiveness or self-loathing. Who knows? Just stop thinking about him.
I glanced down and realized I’d been cleaning the same spot for several minutes and laughed at my own silliness.
“Do you always laugh when you clean?”
I nearly jumped out of my smock.
“Forgive me,” the amused Priest said from the doorway. “I did not mean to startle you.”
“Well, you did!” I said sharply, immediately regretting my tone. “Can I help you?”
He smiled and gave me a deep bow.
What is it with him and his bowing?
“I did not see you earlier. Were you able to hear my words?”
I eyed him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity, unable to resist his gaze. “I heard a little from the kitchen. It’s noisy back there, so I didn’t get all of it.”
“The players were kind enough to allow me their stage before the show. I used it to introduce myself to the town, and to ask for their support in caring for those affected by the war. Their needs are great, and the Crown can only do so much.”
I stiffened. “I’m sure the Queen is doing all she can. She only took the throne a short time ago.”
“I meant no offense to Her Majesty. I am sure you are right.”
“I assume you didn’t come here to talk about the royal family. Is there something I can do for you, Father? What do I even call you?”
“Seth, please just call me Seth. I may wear the frock, but I am just a man trying to do his best in a dark world.”
I couldn’t decide if my suspicion rose or fell at that.
“All right, Seth, what can I do for you? We’re trying to wrap up for the night.”
He smiled and ducked his head—again. “I came to see you.”
A flush of heat ran through my arms and into my chest.
“Me?”
He smiled innocently.
I shivered.
“Yes, you. I understand you are not married, as I had . . . hoped. It seems no one in this town has managed to win your hand.”
Another flush.
I dabbed my cheeks with the towel, then tossed it on the table. “I . . . well, no, I’m not married. What would that matter to a Priest?”
He took a step forward, and my heart raced faster.
“It has nothing to do with the Priest, but has much to do with the nervous man standing humbly before you.”
I coughed a laugh. “Nervous? You? That’s not a word I’ve thought to describe you all day.”
His brow raised. “So, you thought about me all day?”
My eyes widened at the net tightening about me.
“Well, no. I mean, yes, I may have. Oh, bother, what do you want with me?”
“I would very much like to have a glass of wine with you and to learn more about the most enchanting man I have seen in all my travels. Would that be all right?”
“Enchanting?” I snorted, though something kept my eyes glued to his. “Well, uh, I have to finish—”
“Two wines, coming right up.” Ma’s voice cut through the tension in the room. “He needs a drink ’bout now, I can tell.”
Seth grinned as Ma chortled from behind the bar. I hadn’t heard my portly mother enter, nor did I realize she’d heard the whole conversation.
“Ma!”
“Hush. I’ll finish up. We wouldn’t want a man of the cloth—whatever cloth that is—to stand around waitin’, would we?”
I rolled my eyes. “I suppose I could have one glass.”
The thunk of a newly opened bottle slammed onto the wooden table before I had finished speaking. Two glasses appeared a second later.
“Take yer time. He’s off t’morrow, whether or not he tells ya that.”
And with a flourish, Ma vanished back into the kitchen, leaving me staring at the bottle and Seth shifting nervously from one foot to the other.
Later that night, as I lay in bed staring out the tiny window in my room above the kitchen, I thought the stars shone a bit brighter than they had all winter.
I leaned forward and squinted at the pinpricks of light as they danced in the darkness, then shook my head at the boy who’d apparently had a little too much wine.
Still, thinking back to the hour or so with Seth, I couldn’t help but smile.
He wasn’t anything like I expected.
When we first met, he was cloaked in darkness and shadow, giving the impression his life would likewise be veiled in secrets, but that hadn’t been the case.
A few sips of courage had him recounting a childhood in the countryside with his older brother and two younger sisters.
He laughed as he described antics that must’ve driven his mother mad.
As we talked, I realized his life—at least his life before donning his robe—had been similar to mine.
He talked of tending his family’s land and herds.
I didn’t have brothers and sisters to terrorize, nor did I tend livestock or till soil, but I did have routine and duty to my family and our business.
I understood his upbringing and admired his openness and quiet strength.
My mind wandered to his square jaw.
Enough of that, I told myself. You barely know the man.
But a flush flared through me again as I saw his eyes in my mind.
I pulled the covers over my head and laughed before rolling over and drifting off to sleep.