Home to him, maybe. She knew nothing about it. “What’s your house like?”

“I’m a single man in apprenticeship, or was until yesterday, no call to set up my own place. Matthew and Sarah have a good-sized home with a second bedroom. That’s where I’ve been living, and we’ll live together this winter.”

Eleanor took a deep breath. “You want me to share a house with strangers? And it’s their house?”

“Matthew’s my trade-master. It’d be strange if we didn’t, at least to start. You can dream up your wishes for our own little place in the coming months and pick out a spot for us to start clearing land come spring.”

That had a horrible ring of permanence to it. She focused on the now. “And how are your trade-master and his wife going to respond to my arrival? Are they going to snigger, like the farmer? Or sneer like his wife?”

Cadan said. “If you’ll let them, I think they’ll be delighted in you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Cadan pulled the horse to a stop and turned to face her. “From what very little I know of you, you are intelligent, determined, and observant. You prefer to do your observing from a distance though, and that’s not going to work in a place as tightly tied as Woodbine. You’re going to have to pull down your town girl walls and let people in.”

“Like the farmer and his wife this morning?”

He said. “No, not like them. They want to be town, but can’t seem to make the final step, and it makes them jealous of those who are.”

She pondered that. “And especially someone who seems to be giving up town in favour of village life. Are there any like that where we’re going?”

He fiddled with the reins. “Maybe one or two, it wouldn’t be fair to lie. But not Matthew or Sarah, they’ll be so excited to welcome you. And I promise I’ll be by your side every step as you learn our ways.”

He was rather sweet when he wasn’t being annoying and better than Sebastian no matter what. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

She smiled at him. “You’re going to regret that promise, but I’ll hold you to it anyway.”

He leaned a little closer. “I have a feeling, Nora, that I will never regret anything when it comes to meeting you.”

Eleanor felt her cheeks heat and was glad he turned back to the horse and started the cart rolling again, rather than wait for an answer from her. She had no idea what to say.

Woodbine Village was difficult to make out in the dark, Eleanor could only get a sense of several squat, square buildings, some dark, some with light escaping through chinks in the shutters before Cadan pulled up outside one that looked slightly longer than the others and grinned at her. “Tis always a good feeling to end a journey.”

Her smile was forced and nervous, her journey was just starting.

Bashful shook her head, setting the metal buckles and rings in the harness to jangling. As Cadan jumped from the cart and shook out his legs, the door of the building opened, spilling light out onto them, barely checked by the large figure striding out to greet them.

His voice boomed. “What took you so long? I’ve been unsure whether to consign you to another day of town revelry or send out a search party.”

He stopped by the front of the cart and peered up at Eleanor, concern creasing his brow. “And who’s this?”

Eleanor watched as Cadan stood taller, and even puffed out his chest. “This is Eleanor, she’s my wife.”

He sounded so proud of their marriage, of her, she didn’t know where to look.

Matthew, it had to be him, burst out laughing. “Never tell me you managed to find a sensible young woman prepared to have you.”

He turned to Eleanor with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m presuming you’re a sensible woman, lass.”

That made her laugh in turn. “I used to think so, Sir, although I am wondering a little right now.”

The big man reached up to help her down, then steadied her when she tottered. “I have no doubt you’ll do very nicely. Now, Cadan, get the poor girl indoors and warmed up before she realises her mistake. I’ll take care of Bashful.”

Cadan wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her towards the light-filled doorway.

She whispered. “What mistake?”

His hold tightened. “Marrying me.”

She gave into temptation and leaned into him, just a little, as they took the three stone steps up to the entry.

“Any mistakes made last night weren’t mine,” she bit her lip, but went on, “and your mistake was knocking on our door at precisely the wrong moment.”

Cadan squeezed her again. “It was the right moment. I told you, not one regret.”

He turned to a woman rising from her seat by the wide stone fireplace to greet them, her expression much like Matthew’s had been. “Sarah, I’d like you to meet Eleanor, my wife.”

Eleanor looked up at his face. “You really do like saying that.”

She stepped just far enough from Cadan’s arm to be able to bob a neat curtsey. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m sorry it’s such a surprise, and we’re so late.”

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