Page 44 of Alder Woodacre and the Acorns of Affection (Amaranthine Interludes #3)
“Lord, what will they think of next!” grumbled Boniface, carefully lowering himself to a chair at the kitchen table.
Joe set aside the seed catalog he’d been perusing to ask, “Is something wrong?”
A thin smile. “I suppose that depends on who you ask.”
“I’m … asking you …?”
The man eased into an apologetic posture. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I have never in my life, ever once considered that it was possible to purchase clothing in a … a feed store.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Having acquired this new knowledge, your usual ensemble makes so much sense.”
Joe ventured, “Is that where Harrison took you?”
“Yes. And I am grateful. How was I to know that such a hidden gem even existed?”
That had sounded sarcastic, but Boniface brushed at his shoulder. Joe supposed he’d have been just as far out of his depth in the world a gentleman like Boniface came from.
Boniface’s phone hummed, and he murmured an apology before checking his messages.
He was looking rather frazzled, so Joe quietly moved around the kitchen, pulling together a standard snack—slices of apple, cheese, and a couple of spice doughnuts that sparkled with cinnamon and sugar.
He also poured a mug of coffee and set out the creamer and sugar bowl before returning to his chair.
“You should eat.”
The man pouted. “I know.”
“Do you not like this? I can find something else …? Mom made rhubarb bread.”
“I’m not turning up my nose. It’s only that I don’t have much of an appetite.”
Joe hadn’t noticed. He looked more carefully now and was puzzled by the number of sigils that shimmered slyly against the edges of his awareness. He didn’t think he was meant to notice them at all. “It’s almost like you’ve been stashed.”
Boniface looked alarmed.
Suddenly understanding what he was seeing, Joe quickly lowered his gaze. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were … umm. I won’t tell.”
“How …? Lord, I suppose it doesn’t matter how . Nobody here knows, all right? And I’d rather not tip them off. Especially not Argent bloody Lord Mettlebright.”
Joe simply nodded.
Boniface stirred milk and sugar into his coffee before returning to his previous topic. “While the feed store certainly wasn’t my milieu, Jackie did insist.”
“Your brother?”
“He needed some local flavor for the going away party.”
“Not a welcome party?”
“This isn’t for Harrison. It’s for Jarrah. Jackie’s putting on a brave face for the lad’s sake, but he does this thing with big, sad eyes.” He put on a mournful face, then cast it aside just as quickly. “It’s unfair that it still works.”
“I thought bringing Jarrah here was his idea?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if it was. Look, I told him how quickly Jarrah took to you and to this farm. But my brother is the doting sort, especially lately. Very devoted to the people he cares about. He’s been pestering Nonny, too, wanting details about how the lad’s getting on.”
“Couldn’t he come for a visit? See for himself.”
“I think he will. Eventually.” Boniface fiddled with his phone, then set it aside. “Speaking of details … they really are important. Might I rely upon you for a … oh, let’s call it the piece de resistance , hmm?
Joe nodded again. And wondered if the people who hadn’t noticed Boniface’s circumstances were similarly unaware that he was also the doting sort. In his own way.