The Snow Bride by Lindsay Townsend

Author:Lindsay Townsend
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Romance, Fiction, Historical, General
ISBN: 9781619269910
Publisher: BookStrand Publishing
Published: 2012-05-07T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

He found the holly bush and not a moment too soon—limping beside him, Elfrida was already half frozen. Again, Magnus regretted having to bring her, but he knew she would never consent to remain behind and, most important, her sister did not know him. He had tried to learn some of her dialect but not enough to explain to a strange, frightened girl that he was a rescuer, not a beast. A token of Elfrida’s might be interpreted the wrong way, so for now, it must be Elfrida herself.

“Sit down.” He drew his shivering witch into the heart of the huge holly where it was dry, and he unpacked the bundle as swiftly as his numb fingers would allow. The fact that she did not shove him aside to do the task herself he took as a poor sign, but he kept his words cheerful. “Fresh clothes here, so we shall soon be warmer. I have mead, too.”

He had no women’s things in the pack but had filched two sets of woolen tunics and linen braies from a stripling squire called Hugh, who fancied himself a person of good taste. Elfrida stared at the braies and shook her head. “I cannot wear those.”

“You will move more freely,” said Magnus cunningly, “and it will be a good disguise. We shall seem two packmen.”

“Ripe for bandits, then,” came the tart response, but she peeled off her less-than-perfect gown and did not protest when he rubbed her down smartly with it, seeking to dry her before she re-dressed. She tied the braies as she might a girl’s belt, which made him grin, and the green wool tunic was too long in the sleeves, but she had more color.

More fight, too, when she launched herself at the living circle of holly as he was rolling his shoulders in his dry tunic and retightening his belt. He caught her round the middle. “Shoes?” he reminded her.

“But she comes, she is coming now! I can sense her!”

“And we shall pick up her tracks.” He buffeted her lightly away from the holly thorns and waved two bag-like socks in her face. “Put these on first.”

She stroked the cloth and wrinkled her nose. “This is not wool.”

“It is woolen felt, from my manor. We know how to make it there.”

“It is warm,” she said in wonder and began to pull them on. He handed her a leather shoe next and showed her how to wrap pieces of wool about her feet and legs.

It took longer than for himself, but he did not care. The laundress would not be hurrying in this fine, bright, windless day, and he wanted Elfrida to be warm.

He handed her a short leather cloak, a riding cloak truly, but it would be long enough on her. “Tuck your hair under this cap, also.”

She widened her eyes at the dull, russet hood but did as he asked. Packing their damp things into the old, gray cloak he had brought the changes of clothes in,

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