Doctor Archibald Frost.”
Owen offered Dr. Frost his hand. “You are most kind, sir, for taking me in. I apologize for my uniform…”
Archibald, a small man with a pear-shaped physique and apple-red cheeks, clasped Owen’s hand in both of his. The man’s cheeks fought a losing action against a broad smile as he pumped Owen’s hand warmly. “No apologies, sir. It is an honor. May I present my wife, Hettie.”
Mrs. Frost proved the opposite of her spouse, being tall and slender, even regal. She smiled warmly, though nowhere near as effulgently as her husband. “It is our pleasure to welcome you, Captain Strake.”
“You are most kind, ma’am.”
Doctor Frost turned and introduced a half-dozen children ranging in age from thirteen to three. Their names immediately fled Owen’s memory. He’d take abuse from Caleb when he had to ask about them again. He put it down to still wondering about Caleb, because the man who introduced him to the family was not the same man who had led him to the house.
But, then again, he’d have forgotten the names anyway, because the end of the introductions was when she descended the stairs.
Doctor Frost waved a hand impatiently. “There you are, Bethany.”
Bethany Frost combined the best of her parents. Slender and tall, with long, golden-brown hair gathered into a braid, she glided fluidly down the stairs. She had her father’s smile and bright blue eyes the same shade as his wife’s, but decidedly warmer. Her smile broadened as she first saw him, then she missed a step and almost tumbled down the stairs. She caught herself on the railing, then laughed delightedly, her cheeks flushed.
Owen couldn’t believe it. Had any Norillian woman come to the stairs late, it would have been with the intent of making an entrance. The stumble would have been taken as evidence of poor breeding and grounds for suicide. For Bethany, however, it appeared to have no more significance than a simple accident would merit.
She reached the bottom of the stairs. “A pleasure, Captain Strake. Forgive my being late, but I was making sure your room had been made up.”
“I thought he was sleeping in the stable.”
Doctor Frost chuckled. “Yes, Caleb, I’m sure you did.”
“Father.”
“Caleb, you see, Captain Strake, has some very definite feelings concerning Her Majesty’s government and how we are treated. He’s at Temperance College, studying for the Clergy. Alas, I fear he is becoming something of a free-thinker.”
“He was quite friendly, sir. A gentleman.”
Owen allowed himself to be steered down the central corridor and to the right.
A long trestle table had been set for one, with the seat near the fire. Dr. Frost sat at the table’s head, with Owen at his left hand. Caleb sat opposite. Owen’s host unstoppered a crystal decanter and poured red wine for the three of them.
He raised the glass. “To the Queen’s health.”
“Her health.” Owen drank. “Very nice. Better than I had in Tharyngia.”
“I should hope so. My father bought it thirty years ago and it has been maturing in the cellar.” Frost set his glass down. “And you have not fooled me by covering for my son. I know him well. He seems to forget that animosity does not excuse one from behaving as a gentleman.”
Caleb glanced into his wine. “I apologize if I offended you, Captain.”
“No apology required. I found our conversation very informative.” Owen turned to Dr. Frost. “And I, sir, would like to apologize for the behavior of the other officers you have hosted. I should like the names of the offenders. I shall take great delight in thrashing them at the first opportunity.”
“You’re most kind, Captain, but I doubt that will be necessary.”
Hettie entered bearing a bowl of stew. Bethany followed, bearing a small basket with sliced bread. Caleb reached for a piece of it, but she slapped his hand. His mother gave him a reproving stare, so he sat back and grumbled.
“You’ll forgive
Owen offered Dr. Frost his hand. “You are most kind, sir, for taking me in. I apologize for my uniform…”
Archibald, a small man with a pear-shaped physique and apple-red cheeks, clasped Owen’s hand in both of his. The man’s cheeks fought a losing action against a broad smile as he pumped Owen’s hand warmly. “No apologies, sir. It is an honor. May I present my wife, Hettie.”
Mrs. Frost proved the opposite of her spouse, being tall and slender, even regal. She smiled warmly, though nowhere near as effulgently as her husband. “It is our pleasure to welcome you, Captain Strake.”
“You are most kind, ma’am.”
Doctor Frost turned and introduced a half-dozen children ranging in age from thirteen to three. Their names immediately fled Owen’s memory. He’d take abuse from Caleb when he had to ask about them again. He put it down to still wondering about Caleb, because the man who introduced him to the family was not the same man who had led him to the house.
But, then again, he’d have forgotten the names anyway, because the end of the introductions was when she descended the stairs.
Doctor Frost waved a hand impatiently. “There you are, Bethany.”
Bethany Frost combined the best of her parents. Slender and tall, with long, golden-brown hair gathered into a braid, she glided fluidly down the stairs. She had her father’s smile and bright blue eyes the same shade as his wife’s, but decidedly warmer. Her smile broadened as she first saw him, then she missed a step and almost tumbled down the stairs. She caught herself on the railing, then laughed delightedly, her cheeks flushed.
Owen couldn’t believe it. Had any Norillian woman come to the stairs late, it would have been with the intent of making an entrance. The stumble would have been taken as evidence of poor breeding and grounds for suicide. For Bethany, however, it appeared to have no more significance than a simple accident would merit.
She reached the bottom of the stairs. “A pleasure, Captain Strake. Forgive my being late, but I was making sure your room had been made up.”
“I thought he was sleeping in the stable.”
Doctor Frost chuckled. “Yes, Caleb, I’m sure you did.”
“Father.”
“Caleb, you see, Captain Strake, has some very definite feelings concerning Her Majesty’s government and how we are treated. He’s at Temperance College, studying for the Clergy. Alas, I fear he is becoming something of a free-thinker.”
“He was quite friendly, sir. A gentleman.”
Owen allowed himself to be steered down the central corridor and to the right.
A long trestle table had been set for one, with the seat near the fire. Dr. Frost sat at the table’s head, with Owen at his left hand. Caleb sat opposite. Owen’s host unstoppered a crystal decanter and poured red wine for the three of them.
He raised the glass. “To the Queen’s health.”
“Her health.” Owen drank. “Very nice. Better than I had in Tharyngia.”
“I should hope so. My father bought it thirty years ago and it has been maturing in the cellar.” Frost set his glass down. “And you have not fooled me by covering for my son. I know him well. He seems to forget that animosity does not excuse one from behaving as a gentleman.”
Caleb glanced into his wine. “I apologize if I offended you, Captain.”
“No apology required. I found our conversation very informative.” Owen turned to Dr. Frost. “And I, sir, would like to apologize for the behavior of the other officers you have hosted. I should like the names of the offenders. I shall take great delight in thrashing them at the first opportunity.”
“You’re most kind, Captain, but I doubt that will be necessary.”
Hettie entered bearing a bowl of stew. Bethany followed, bearing a small basket with sliced bread. Caleb reached for a piece of it, but she slapped his hand. His mother gave him a reproving stare, so he sat back and grumbled.
“You’ll forgive
Similar Books
