Page 4 of Centerpiece (Infinite Grace #2)

“ Well .” Agreeable frowned, wishing he had a rosary too, if only to play with something as he thought.

Maybe that was what the beads were really for.

“I didn’t know your grandfather, as you’d expect.

But you’ve been all right to me, so far.

Fair. More than fair, really. Kind as well.

So if that would suit him, then I’d say you’re honoring him all right. ”

The man turned as if to look at Agreeable, then seemed to realize what he’d done and turned back.

“Sorry. But... thank you . Thank you for saying that. He would have stepped in for you. It’s what I thought of when I did it.

And that no one with eyes like yours could be a very good thief.

You’re not even a good liar—and he would have noticed that too. So thank you.”

“Ah,” said Agreeable with his insides going topsy-turvy and his skin aflame. “I’m done, if you’d like to enjoy your meal now.”

He skittered back to sit on the edge of the bed, kicking his legs to feel the brush of the skirt on his ankles and trying to keep his hands together in his lap. He left the cowl beside him. He was warmer now and the scarf ought to be enough to hide his short hair.

The man faced him again, considering Agreeable for several long moments as if a quick bath had changed Agreeable into someone worth staring at.

Then the man’s attention was on the table and the food.

He hesitated before pulling the chair from the corner to put it in arm’s length of the table, then took one of the plates laden with potatoes, chicken, and Betram’s wife’s somewhat burned rolls, and a fork.

Betram knew when he had a quality guest, no matter how simply the man dressed; he’d given him a fork. Agreeable debated asking for a roll when the man had finished eating, but kept his mouth firmly shut even while his stomach grumbled.

The man stopped in the middle of his first mouthful, which he had raised delicately to his lips with the fork, not once getting gravy or anything else on his fingers.

He swallowed, then gestured with the hand holding the fork.

“Help yourself. There is a plate for you as well. I wouldn’t.

...” He paused for whatever Agreeable’s face looked like.

“I invited you to join me for dinner, not to watch me eat. Unless you aren’t hungry. ...”

“No, no. I’m hungry!” Agreeable didn’t move except to extend his arms in a nervous, pleading sort of way. “I just didn’t expect.... The butter too?” He nodded toward the tiny dish overflowing with a slab of pale-yellow Heaven.

He first got a deep sigh for an answer, and then, “The butter too. Whatever you like,” in a warm, rich voice that would have had Agreeable trembling again if he hadn’t been so preoccupied to slathering butter over several rolls.

He didn’t shovel them all into his mouth at once because being around someone with delicate manners made him go slower than that.

But it was a struggle. He had two, exhaled and licked his lips with pleasure, and then would have been content but the man said, “Take a plate and eat your fill,” in that same voice, and Agreeable wouldn’t have been able to say no even if he’d had a feast day meal already.

He picked up a fork, for there were two, then set it down again. “I wouldn’t be as neat as you with it,” he admitted sheepishly. “And I’m too hungry to bother. I ran about a lot today.”

It earned him a small smile. “I’m sure you did. Eat. There’s wine as well, if that’s to your taste.”

Wine was also for feast days, or at least not for every day, despite the vineyards all around them.

Agreeable gave him a smile between bites of potato and more butter, and was so distracted by the taste he nearly forgot the purpose of the dinner aside from turning an empty stomach into a full one.

“What are you called? Or, if you are concerned with the truth getting out, what should I call you?” The man cleaned his plate but didn’t reach for more, except to take a small sprig of grapes and eat them one by one, delicate even with no forks involved.

“Agreeable,” Agreeable said absently, then flinched, for that name would surely get him caught if the man revealed it to anyone.

The man raised his eyebrows. “That wasn’t a joke earlier? That’s what people call you?”

“Um.” Agreeable hadn’t even had a drop of wine. “Some do. It’s not cruelly meant. Well, not for all of them, I expect.”

“But for enough of them.” The man slowly inclined his head. “And villages are small. And you attract notice.”

“I do?” Agreeable stopped, then focused on his plate, using another buttered roll to clean up the gravy. “Should I call you anything?” He peered over. “It doesn’t have to be your true name, either. I could understand not wanting to be connected to me.”

The man leaned over to pour himself half a cup of wine and took a drink. “My name is Holburn.”

A warm name.

Agreeable nodded. “I thank you for the meal, Holburn, as well as the protection.” He didn’t mention repayment.

He had only one thing to offer and that didn’t seem to be wanted.

Holburn had asked for something else. “My ma might call you a good man,” Agreeable informed him.

“She works for the Count. Most from my village do now.”

“Why not you too?” A sensible question.

Agreeable shrugged. “I’m not trained in the ways of a grand house, and I was taught to farm, not to cook or smith or anything useful in a home.”

“All of you in the same situation, then? You and your not-thief friends?”

Another sensible question. Agreeable couldn’t be angry about it.

“You’re a sharp man, too. Your grandfather raised you well. And yes, I suppose that’s so. Where were we to go? We can be hired for the fields, but that’s not year-round, is it? And it’s a strange thing, tending to fields that used to be yours.”

“I imagine it would be.” Holburn had another sip.

“Eat and drink your fill. Don’t worry about me.

” Agreeable nodded and helped himself to more bread and gravy and a small bit of wine.

“Now,” Holburn continued, “you could be trained for work in a grand house. Not to offend you, but many lords and ladies prefer to have staff who are pleasing to the eye. Though I suppose there’s some danger there. ”

“Pleasing to the eye?” Agreeable sat up. “Am I?”

He received a puzzled frown. “Surely you knew that, if you are so sought after.”

Agreeable stared at him and then away from him, to the fire. “No one’s ever said. It’s more that I’m there, you see. Pleasing?” He looked back. “Am I really?”

“Yes.” Boldly stated, although Holburn did not go on to say why. “Your friends are true cads, exactly as I first named them.”

Agreeable started to argue, but had nothing to say.

He poked at his plate, the gravy-soaked hunk of bread, then tore that into small pieces to try to eat as delicately as possible.

When he was done, he put the plate on the table, had another sip of wine, cleaned his hands on the damp towel as if he were a good and well-mannered lass, and sat back.

“I don’t know what else to tell you of the Count.

I’ve only seen him in passing, or heard whatever my ma or his other servants have said. ”

“Does he treat them well? Pay them properly? Reward years of service?” Holburn tossed out questions quick as lightning strikes. “Do his guards act well? Does he start fights with his neighbors? How was he with the Duke of this region?”

“I guess you’d need to know all of that if you wanted to do business here,” Agreeable mused aloud, although he frowned as he thought it all over.

“His pay is all right. Though I don’t know what I’m supposed to compare it to.

I do worry what will happen when Ma gets too elderly for the hard work of the kitchens.

Though I try not to think on it, because where am I to house her?

I’ve no house at all. Just a place in the woods under a tree. ”

Holburn scowled. It was the least jewel-like he’d been so far. Agreeable had an urge to smooth away the scowl with a gentle touch. He’d seen a woman do that once. She’d been seated on her sweetheart’s lap while petting his frowns away.

“So, you don’t feel he’s treated you or anyone fairly.

” Holburn declared it with confidence. Agreeable had said no such thing but it had perhaps been in his heart.

“And I can’t say that you’re wrong. Not if there is a village’s worth of people living without houses while the Church has extra coin at his say-so. And this is to impress the Duke?”

Agreeable shrugged again. “So they say. There’s been no visit from the Duke in my lifetime. And no invite for the Count to go visit him. Not that I’ve heard of.”

Holburn continued to scowl. “And the punishing of thieves with beatings or worse also goes on, despite the obvious cause?”

“Obvious cause?” Agreeable stared without blinking. “You are likely very wealthy, so perhaps you can escape most consequences. But you should be careful when you say such things.”

Holburn’s scowl deepened, then slipped away as if it had never been. “I didn’t mean to worry you, Agreeable. I apologize.”

Agreeable opened his mouth but only a strained squeak emerged. He coughed and tried again. “You keep apologizing to me.”

“I do not say that everyone in the country is like me.” Holburn spoke as softly as Agreeable.

“I only say that things in the rest of the country are not as they are here. And I am sorry you haven’t known that, and that you have lived such a life.

Although you have stayed honest—as honest as an accused thief might be—and worried for the life of a stranger, and sweet in your manner.

If that is the doing of your parents, know that I think they are proud of you. Or should be.”

Agreeable drew in a breath and then could not speak. He lowered his head and stilled his kicking feet and finally let the breath out. “I will never be the same after that, Holburn.”