Devin couldn’t sleep the rest of night. From the occasional snores coming from both Gaspard and Marcus, his companions had no similar problem. He kept going over the incident with Marcus in his mind. He would probably never be certain whether he had actually seen his bodyguard outside or not. The trouble with waking dreams was that, for an instant, a chair could be transformed into a monster or a friend into an assailant. Though the images were short-lived the uneasiness they inspired tended to linger. All that was left after last night’s incident was suspicion and animosity on both Marcus’s and Devin’s part. It promised to make the next few days unpleasant, if nothing else.
Birdsong broke the silence long before the darkness faded into a gray dawn. Devin finally sat up and brushed off a few persistent wisps of hay. Gaspard lay sound asleep but Marcus opened a wary eye. He rolled over without comment when he realized that it was only Devin disturbing his sleep.
Devin went down the ladder and out into the yard determined to ascertain for himself if any evidence lingered to suggest a clandestine meeting last night. The overcast sky promised rain and the dirt in the yard was already damp and muddy. Tracks from cows and wagons marred the ground making it impossible to determine who might have loitered there a few hours before. He had just completed a circuit of the courtyard when the door to the house opened.
“You’re up early,” Adrian commented, as he thrust his arm into his jacket sleeve.
Devin shrugged. “I had trouble sleeping last night.”
“Not enough wine before bed,” Adrian diagnosed with a laugh. “My father claims a drunk never misses a good night’s sleep, while a sober man lies awake and counts his transgressions.”
“He’s probably right,” Devin agreed good-naturedly.
“I hope our celebrating didn’t keep you awake,” Adrian replied. “My mother and the aunts were still chattering long after I went to bed.”
Devin shook his head. “I didn’t hear them. Thank you again for taking us in last night. Would you allow me to make a donation toward the wedding preparations?”
“And incur my mother’s wrath?” Adrian asked. “Hospitality is an obligation not a choice. Don’t shame her by trying to compensate her for good manners.”
Devin smiled. “But surely there is something I can do to thank her?”
“Would you stay for the wedding?” Adrian asked, picking up a bucket and carrying it to the well.
Devin followed. “Thank you, but I’m afraid our plans won’t allow time for that. I hope to be in Lac Dupré by tomorrow night.”
Adrian hooked the bucket onto the rope and began to lower it. “It’s too bad that you will miss Armand.”
“Armand Vielle?” Devin asked.
Adrian nodded. “He is coming here for the wedding.”
“But I was going to Lac Dupré to hear him!” Devin protested.
Adrian beamed. “Then stay, please. Armand plans to share some of the Chronicle at the wedding reception.”
Devin shook his head. “I can’t impose like that.”
“The entire village is coming and my mother asked me to invite you especially.”
“Not Aunt Genevieve?” Devin asked.
“Oh, Aunt Genevieve plans to snag you at breakfast. Your place beside her has already been staked out. Be careful she doesn’t drug your coffee and carry you off to her bed.”
Devin laughed. “I’ll trust you to defend my virtue!”
“What virtue?” Gaspard asked, coming to join them. “You lost whatever virtue you possessed at the Université along with the rest of us.” He put an arm around Devin’s shoulders and spoke close to his ear. “You should be aware that Marcus is watching you from the loft window. He saw you looking for tracks.”
“Let him watch,” Devin replied. “I’ve yet to convince myself that I didn’t see horsemen in the yard last night.”
The pail of water splashed onto the ground.
“You saw horsemen here?” Adrian asked in alarm.
Gaspard waggled a hand. “Maybe ‘yes’, maybe ‘no.’ Devin’s not the most reliable witness when he’s half asleep.”
Adrian left the bucket lying on the ground. He leaned back against the stones of the well, frowning. “Perhaps, you’d better tell me what happened.”
Devin told him what he’d seen, omitting his suspicions about Marcus. “My friend,” he added, hoping his bodyguard was in earshot, “went down to the yard to investigate but he saw no one.”
Adrian grunted. “This is worrisome,” he commented, bending to retrieve the bucket. “In Ombria, in case you haven’t noticed, only rich men own riding horses. A man on horseback generally means trouble for a small farmer like my father. It could be the shérif, a soldier, or the tax collector and none of them are men I want outside my house in the middle of the night.” He turned to look at Devin. “You’ll do me a favor?”
“Of course,” Devin said.
“Let me know right away if you see them again?”
“It’s the least I can do,” Devin replied.
“Be aware, Adrian,” Gaspard said with a playful look at Devin. “That this is an undocumented sighting. Don’t concern yourself unless there are further incidents.”
“Still,” Adrian said, hefting the bucket down from the wall, “Devin saw something in the yard. I think it bears investigation.”
Devin smiled. It was nice to be believed without question.