Twitch stumbled towards the carriage and made himself climb into the coach’s seat. He took the reins the ostler handed him. “You’re to pick him up outside his study. The Thain’s study, not his private one. You remember where that is now?”

Twitch had no idea where the Thain’s study was. He wasn’t the Thain’s usual driver. In fact, he had never driven the Thain or the Lady anywhere, for which he had always been grateful. He was too tired to fret over the prospect now. Instead, he politely asked for directions and listened carefully as the ostler rambled them off and pointed vaguely towards the next hill, under which lay the Great Smials of Tuckborough.

“Get on with you. He’ll be a waiting in his study for you, and he wanted off quick like. No dallying.”

“Yes, sir,” Twitch said. He tugged the reins and clicked his tongue. The ponies pulled gently forward and they were on their way.

Some minutes later, Twitch was navigating the tunnels of the Smials, hoping he was heading in the right direction and to the right door. He walked down the empty and silent passageways, his footsteps loud in the absence of any other noise. He held a candle in hand, picked up from the entryway, and he counted doors until he reached what he hoped to be the Thain’s study. 

He knocked lightly, tentatively, and was relieved at the immediate muffled response. He had the correct door and the Thain was offering admittance. Twitch opened the door and took a hesitant half-step inside. He spotted the Thain almost at once, standing at the window that overlooked his private garden. Outside the window, the earth was cool and blue under a waning moon. A single sconce glowed on the wall by the door, casting the Thain and the room in shadow. 

“Thain Ferumbras, the carriage is ready,” announced Twitch.

Ferumbras nodded. “I’ll be there in a moment. Take the baskets and wait for me by the carriage.”

Twitch spotted a pair of picnic baskets sitting by the door. He picked them up and retreated. He wanted desperately to know what was going on but knew his place well enough not to ask. He would be told what he needed to know in due time. He followed the passageways back the way he came, pausing at the entryway to blow out the candle and return it to its sconce. He stepped outside again and only then noticed that the carriage the master ostler had readied was not the Thain’s but a guest carriage instead.

More bewildered than before, Twitch climbed up to his seat and prepared to wait.

~*~

Chapter 3 – Many Meetings

Adalgrim woke the next morning feeling displaced but eager. Displaced, for he was waking in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room with the unfamiliar presence of his children surrounding him and his wife. Eager, because as much as he complained about being dragged halfway across the Shire to give his cousin advice on mayoral candidates, he had always enjoyed the Free Fair and this year would be no different.

In fact, this year would be even more special than any fair prior. Not only was it an election year, it was also a leap year; the two events corresponded only every twenty-eight years. More importantly, this Overlithe would be Ami’s thirty-second birthday, and while her official coming of age was still a year away, it was close enough to mark this as a very significant birthday indeed.

“And she’s perfectly healthy,” Adalgrim muttered under his breath as he hopped one-footed, struggling with his breeches in the dark of pre-dawn.

As careful as folk were, he would still catch them whispering about the so-called Curse of the Tooks. He shook his head, wondering how such sensible hobbits could believe in such ridiculous rumors. To think anyone would entertain the notion that his daughter was somehow doomed just for being born on Overlithe was absurd!

Adalgrim finally slipped into his breeches and buttoned them. He slipped his braces over his shoulders while scrutinizing his matted hair in the mirror. “Absurd,” he told his reflection.

“Nothing a comb won’t fix, dear,” Clematis said sleepily from the bed. She reached behind her and pushed aside the curtain to let in a sliver of grey light. “You’re going to wear that?”

Adalgrim looked down at himself and noticed the white shirt he had blindly selected from the wardrobe was actually a pale cream. It clashed harshly with the maroon breeches and braces. Muttering, he slipped off the braces and pulled off his shirt. 

“Do you have any plans for the day, dearest?” Adalgrim whispered, so as not to disturb the other sleeping forms in the bed and on the settee. He pulled another shirt from the wardrobe, double-checked its color and slipped it on.

“Oh, nothing so exciting as sitting in the Town Hole, interviewing potential Mayors and talking politics,” Clematis answered. “I’m sure I’ll manage not to get too horribly bored. Everyone else should be arriving today, so we’ll be on the campgrounds helping to set up their tents. Don’t you think we should have brought a tent as well? The children will want to sleep near their friends.”

“Do you really think so?” Adalgrim asked, feigning innocence. A moment later, his face split into a grin and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his wife through the mirror. He finished with his wardrobe and attended to his hair with a few quick pulls of the brush.

Clematis chuckled. “Planning to get me alone, are you?”

“Planning. Hoping. Wishing. Bribing if I must,” Adalgrim answered. He turned from the mirror, leaned over the slumbering forms and kissed his wife. “Don’t count on me for luncheon, but we should be done by tea. Meet you here?”

“Come alone,” Clematis purred and kissed him back. “I’ll be waiting.”

“We are awake, you know,” Ami muttered.

“Shh!” Pally hissed.

“Keep quiet! You’ll embarrass them!” Esme whispered.

“I will not keep quiet if they’re going to start doing that!” Ami countered. 

Clematis and Adalgrim kindly obliged, their eyes meeting over silent laughter. Tea. Alone. Adalgrim pressed his wife’s hand, then slipped out the door.

The room grew silent again, its occupants warm and content in their wrappings. Then…

“Does this mean we have permission to sleep wherever we want?” Pally asked.

“Within reason, yes,” Clematis answered.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Mum,” Esme said, giggling. “Pally’s idea of reasonable isn’t very reasonable.”

Ami sniggered next to her. Pally managed not to box them both on the ears, but it was a near thing.

“If you’re going to insist on being awake,” came Heather’s groggy voice from the settee, “would you be so kind as to be useful and put in our order for breakfast?”

“You’re closer to the door,” Pally pointed out.

“I had to sleep on the settee all night!” Heather complained.

“So?” the others asked.

“We drew straws. You lost,” Esme said.

“Shhh!” Amber hissed, but not in time. Arlo woke, whimpering. “Oh, good job!”

“Thank you,” Pally said and was quickly reminded that Amber did not possess his restraint. “Ow! That was my ear!”

“Serves you right,” Clematis said, rising. She pulled on a robe and quickly straightened her hair. “Since we’re all awake, we can all get up and go out to breakfast together. I’ll fetch Arlo some milk.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Amber said, rocking Arlo in vain hope he might drift back to sleep.

Clematis went out the door, and Heather rose from her makeshift bed, her back cracking. She shuffled about the room, lighting oil lamps and sconces, then peeped outside the curtain. The sky was lightening to a pale blue tinged with pink and yellow, and already hobbits were bustling about, making ready for the day. She dropped the curtain and tapped Pally hard on the head.

“Out, you,” she ordered.

“Why me?”

“So we can get dressed,” she replied.

“I won’t watch,” Pally promised. His nose wrinkled at the thought of spying on his sisters.

“Right you are, because you won’t be here. Out,” Heather ordered again.

“Why don’t you go – OW!” Pally suddenly roared, ending any hope of Arlo returning to sleep. The child woke with a startled cry. “That was my leg!”

“Yes, and this is your arm,” Ami said, aiming to pinch again. 

Pally scooted away, but Esme prevented him from getting too far. “Will you stop it!” he demanded.

“Get out then,” Esme said, pinching him smartly on his cheek.

Pally retaliated by pulling her hair. “Don’t do that to her!” Ami ordered and kneed him in the buttocks.

“Hey!” Pally protested. 

“This is getting out of hand,” Heather said, stating the obvious to little effect. 

“WAAAAAH!” Arlo wailed, confused with all the ruckus. 

“ENOUGH!” Amber exploded, getting up. She picked up her son, grabbed Pally hard by the ear and hauled him from the bed. She ushered him to the door, pushed him into the hall and thrust Arlo into his arms. “Get him milk!” she ordered and slammed the door in his face.

Arlo stopped crying, stunned into silence along with his uncle.

Pally blinked at the door, then down at his nephew. “Well, how do you like that?” he asked. “Abused, assaulted, violated and thrown out like rotten fruit. Is that any way to treat one’s brother?”

Arlo blinked back at him. It was too early in the morning for him to form coherent thoughts, much less make sense of anything that just happened. He was however quickly overcoming his shock of having his mother slam a door on him. His lower lip pouted outward and tears were quickly forming in his big green eyes. “I’m hungry, Nuncie Pally,” he complained.

“Come on then,” Pally said. “Let’s get you some milk.” He put Arlo down and took hold of his hand. They walked down the hall to the common room.

“Why are you limping, Nuncie Pally?” Arlo asked, bouncing on his feet. Whatever had happened in the room, he was now on his way to get food, which was all that really mattered to him.

“Because your aunties and mum are very mean, wicked sisters,” Pally answered. “Be glad you don’t have any sisters, Arlo. You’ve been spared a torment I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.”

“What’s an enemy?” Arlo asked.

“Someone you don’t like,” Pally answered.

“Like who?”

“Your Auntie Darling and Auntie Esme come to mind,” Pally muttered, entering the common room and heading towards his mother at the bar.

The Town Hole of Michel Delving was actually a house, though built in the fashion of a smial: long, domed and topped with turf. Many round windows peeked out of the turf in all directions, and two round yellow doors stood at the east and west ends. A smaller house for the Mayor’s residence stood behind it.

Adalgrim entered the main house through the west door and into the hallway that dissected the Hole into two halves: the Mayor’s Hall to the south and the various conference rooms and studies to the north. He walked the few short paces to the Mayor’s Hall, where the 

various functions of the Mayor’s position were performed. The Lithe weddings were performed here at every Free Fair, just as several other seasonal feasts and celebrations were throughout the year. The annual meetings of the post messengers and bounders were also held here, as were the rare Shire-moots and even rarer trials that were brought forth to the Mayor for his ruling. 

For today and tomorrow, the Hall would be hosting the Shire-moot for the election of the next mayor. The stage that stood at one end of the hall was bare today; tomorrow it would hold chairs for the current mayor, the Thain, and the Master of the Hall, as well as the mayoral candidates. On the main floor, the benches were currently arranged into opened squares, to allow for the family heads and candidates to mingle in small groupings. Tomorrow the benches would be arranged in rows facing the stage for the final interviews. 

Only a handful of hobbits was present at the moment but more arrived every minute. Adalgrim spotted Fortinbras near the center of the hall. He was already speaking with their first cousins Sigismond and Flambard. Adalgrim swept the room with his eyes as he made his way towards Fortinbras, and he spotted their other first cousins congregating near the stage. They were surrounding Isengar’s widow, Gardenia Clayhanger Took, the only remaining Took of the previous generation and Lalia’s first cousin once removed. The only first cousin not in attendance was Isemond, Isembold’s youngest son. Isemond had been lost to the plague of winter last. His widow, Delphenia, sat beside Gardenia, looking tired from the journey but determined to do her part in her husband’s place.

“Good morning Peanut, Siggy, Rabbit,” Adalgrim greeted. “How is she?”

“Morning Algie,” they greeted in return. 

Fortinbras looked in the direction Adalgrim was pointing. “Delphi is as stubborn as Aunt Gardenia. I told her a dozen times that no one expects her to attend this year, and that just made her all the more resolute that she must come.”

“Clematis and I will need to invite her to tea before the fair is ended; we didn’t get to spend as much time with her as we had hoped during our visit,” Adalgrim said, then set his gaze disappointedly towards the nearly bare buffet tables that stood against the wall. The tables were dressed with festive cloths, and plates, cutlery, cups and napkins sat at one end, but not a crumb of food was to be seen. “No breakfast yet?”

“Soon enough, Algie,” Sigismond assured. “How was your night at the Pheasant?” 

“Fine enough, though I’m hoping tonight will be finer,” Adalgrim replied coolly.

His cousins grinned, not to be fooled. “Caltha and I will be happy to keep your children over the night,” Sigismond offered.

“I thank you,” Adalgrim said. “I will mention it to them, though they may well have arranged their own sleeping quarters by the time I see them next. If you want to shepherd off Rosamunda and Ferdinand later in the week, don’t hesitate to ask. Same goes for Adelard,” he said to Flambard.

Flambard waved a hand. “That lad is never about at night anymore. He’s always off visiting some friend or other. In fact, he didn’t even come with us this year. Couldn’t bear the thought of being away from his sweetheart for so long.”

“Has he asked for Isabella’s hand then?” Fortinbras asked.

“He plans to do so this very Overlithe,” Flambard answered. “He’s quite nervous about it, but I don’t imagine she would turn him down, not the way she dotes on him. And what of Rumbi? He’s getting to an age where one expects grandchildren.”

Fortinbras glanced at Adalgrim and shrugged. “He is wanting to ask Darling, of course. He thought to do so on Overlithe as well. It’s a lucky day for making Promises, they say, and it’s her birthday as well. I wasn’t going to say anything until he had a chance to speak with you, but I’d rather save us all the misery of anticipation and just have it done.”

The cousins laughed. “I will speak with him,” Adalgrim said. “He arrives today?”

“Tomorrow,” Fortinbras said.

“No, today,” Flambard corrected, pointing towards the doorway, where Ferumbras stood.

“Son!” Fortinbras called over the murmur of the room. He waved his hand to help Rumbi locate them. “You are early,” he stated without need when Rumbi approached.

“I had no choice,” Rumbi said, nodding hello to his cousins. “Darling is bent on apologizing to Mother. Have you seen her? Mother, I mean. I went to your tent, but she was already gone.”

“She’s with the wives across the hallway,” Fortinbras said, lifting his eyebrows at Adalgrim, who nodded. “But surely your mother can wait. You must have ridden all night to get here. You must be exhausted. Have some refreshment and take a rest first.”

“Come, Rumbi,” Adalgrim said, steering the lad towards the buffet tables, where the cooks were now setting out the food. “Let’s get some food, then you and I can talk.”

“Talk?” Rumbi asked, taken off guard by this. Then his eyes darkened and he glowered at his father. “Da!”

Fortinbras shrugged. “What can I say, son? Your cousin Algie is a persuasive hobbit. Had it out of me before I knew what happened.”

“I’ll bet,” Rumbi muttered but followed Adalgrim to the tables, his father and cousins not far behind.

Plates full of sausages, ham, eggs and hash, Adalgrim led Rumbi to a corner near the empty stage where they could speak more privately. 

Adalgrim had sensed this day was coming for some time. He and Clematis had spoken of it just a few weeks before. They liked the lad dearly, and were as fond of him as they were their own children. They did not doubt he would be a good husband to their daughter. He could keep her grounded, where otherwise she’d likely fly off for the Blue. There was, of course, his position to consider, and they wished nothing more than to see their beloved Darling set up as the next Lady of Tookland, their future grandson in line for the Thainship. 

There was also Lalia. They bore her overbearing presence with as much grace as they could, but they were hesitant to agree to such a contract as Ami would then be forced to endure much more than annual visits. Lalia would be her mother-in-law, as well as her tutor and guide for learning her future role and duties as the Thain’s Lady. Ami would likely be with Lalia on a daily basis, shadowing her around the Smials and Tuckborough, doing for her like a servant and being treated nearly as bad. That Lalia was fond of Ami was little comfort, as her regard and esteem was nearly as flighty as Ami herself. It would take very little for Ami to fall into Lalia’s poor esteem. Before Adalgrim and Clematis could agree to putting their daughter in such a position, they needed first to be reassured that Ferumbras would protect her at all cost if such a need arose. 

Adalgrim motioned for Rumbi to go first. 

“Cousin Algie,” Rumbi began. He was unprepared for this, having spent the last two days going over speeches that would convince his mother to be forgiving of Ami. Once that obstacle was successfully behind him, he had then planned to prepare his speech for Adalgrim. Now Adalgrim stood before him, and he had nothing to say. 

“Rumbi-lad,” Adalgrim returned and took a bite of his sausage. 

Ferumbras ignored his food, too nervous to eat. The little box that he carried safely in his inner-pocket pressed hard against his chest, reminding him of just what he planned to do in a few days. Well, one way or another, this conversation was going to take place. Might as well get it over with, even if it meant appearing unpolished.

“I am fond of Darling, as I’m sure you know,” Rumbi began. “I’ve known her all her life and these past few years, I have seen her grown into a very special young lady. She has a spark, a charisma, that pulls others to her, and she is the kindest, sweetest lass I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. I would like nothing more than to ask her to be my wife, if that pleases you and Clematis.”

“I think it’s more important that it pleases Darling,” Adalgrim said.

Rumbi nodded. “Of course, her wishes are foremost in my thoughts. I assure you, she will not be left wanting for anything, whether that be freedom to continue her drawings, to visit her family whenever she wants, or simply buttered scones for second breakfast.”

Now it was Adalgrim’s turn to nod. “I know Peanut approves of the match. What about your mother?”

Rumbi kept his face neutral with much effort. “She is fond of Darling. She couldn’t ask for a better daughter-in-law. I will of course be moving out of my parents’ apartment once I’m married. I am not required to live within the Smials while my father is still the Took.”

Adalgrim chuckled under his breath. Straight to the point then. “I think that would be best,” he agreed. “A little cottage near town perhaps.”

“Wherever Darling wishes to settle and make a home,” Rumbi said. “Even Whitwell. There will be more than enough opportunities for Mother to instruct her on visits.”

Now Adalgrim laughed. “That is true enough, I suppose, though perhaps not to your mother’s liking.”

“She has everything else to her liking,” Rumbi replied smoothly. “She will just have to learn to live with disappointment in this one small area. I am sure that she will recover.”

“Very well then,” Adalgrim said. “I will discuss it with Clematis. Will you be taking supper here at the hall tonight?”

“I will be,” Ferumbras replied. “I am to take over for my father one day, and so must learn to mingle diplomatically.”

“I will speak to you again tonight,” Adalgrim promised.

“Thank you, cousin,” Rumbi said, then dropped his cool visage, letting a hint of worry leak into his eyes. “Do you… Do you think Darling will be pleased?”

“I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be,” Adalgrim replied, patting Rumbi on the arm. “She is fond of you as well.”

“I rather hope so,” Rumbi said.

“You’re a good lad,” Adalgrim said. “I will be more than happy to call you son.”

By this time, nearly all the family heads and mayoral candidates were gathered in the hall. While there was no formal agenda for today, the Mayor would be calling everyone to attention once they had eaten to give his customary opening speech and introduce the candidates, who would then have a few minutes to say something about themselves. After the speeches, the candidates, who were each assigned a certain square, would speak casually with the family heads who visited them. There would be breaks for meals and to allow for ventures to the privies, but most of the day would be spent in the busy business of conversation and gossip.

Rumbi returned to his father’s side and watched the bustle about them. Rorimac had just entered the hall, with Bilbo behind him. The new Master of the Hall looked just as exhausted as Rumbi felt, and he wondered how much of that had to do with the long journey from Buckland and how much from the loss of his father this past autumn. Yule in Brandy Hall had been a somber affair compared to previous years, or so he had heard. He nudged his father and lifted his chin towards the door, where a small crowd of sympathizers was gathering around Rory.

“He looks to need rescuing,” Rumbi said and followed his father to Rory’s side.  He could wait until the speeches were over before speaking with his mother.

Ami and Esme left the inn together as soon as first breakfast was finished. They had eaten enough to see them through to luncheon, as they would be busy greeting their cousins and helping with the arrangements of the festival tents with their mother this morning. Clematis would be following behind once Amber and Heather had Arlo ready for the day. Pally, as far as they were concerned, could hike out to the Elf Towers and never return. From the look he had given them when they left, the feeling was mutual.

They quickly left the town behind, rounding the inn to the north and coming over the fairgrounds from the far side. They crunched over the grassy plain, dodging carts, carriages and ponies and narrowly avoided being shepherded into a temporary pigsty by an overeager dog and his flustered master. 

They finally reached the other side of the grounds and headed first to the largest circle of tents, which belonged to the Tooks. They were not the only visitors there. Menegilda and her sons, Saradoc and Berilac, stood talking with Flambard’s wife, Alaura, in the center circle near the cooking fires. Ami and Esme joined Rosamunda and Ferdinand, and after a while, the two Brandybuck lads came to join them as well.

“Morning all,” Sara said, sitting next to Ferdinand. Mac sat on Sara’s other side and mumbled hello.

“Morning,” the others greeted. 

“What is your mother talking to Alaura about?” Esme asked.

“To see if it’d be all right to join your circle,” Mac answered. 

“Don’t you usually take rooms at the Pheasant?” Ami asked. The Brandybucks and families of the Eastfarthing usually celebrated Lithe in Buckland, and so they didn’t have a designated area set aside for tents. Usually, they joined another circle, took up rooms in the inns, or stayed at residences with beds to rent.

Sara nodded. “Usually Grandmother makes the arrangements for the rooms, but it slipped her mind this year,” he explained. “She’s still grieving for Grandfather.”

“I’m so sorry about Gorbadoc,” Ami said, taking his hand for a brief squeeze. “I was fond of him.”

“How are you two taking it?” Rosamunda asked. “It can’t be much easier for you either. Have you had to move yet?”

“Not yet,” Mac said. “Father is Master now and so we should be living in the Master’s apartments, but we don’t want to put Grandmother out, obviously. She is seeing to having a smaller apartment redone for her and once that’s ready, we’ll make the switch.”

“We’re doing fine enough though,” Sara said. “It’s odd. Sometimes I wake up and think, ‘I’m supposed to get more pipeweed for Grandfather,’ and then I remember. It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore as it did right after he passed. Time heals, or so they say.”

“Indeed it does,” Ferdinand said. “Well, I’m sure there will be no problem with you putting up a tent. We’ve plenty of room. If not, you can always bunk with someone. You could stay with us. I’m sure Mum and Da won’t mind.”

“Mother probably would, and so would Father,” Saradoc said. “They’ve been grumbling about having to sleep rough as it is. I don’t see what the problem is. It’s no different than falling asleep atop Buck Hill or along the River. It’ll be a little adventure.”

Mac grinned at his brother and just barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “You and your adventures,” he said. “But how you are?” he asked Ami and Esme. “How are your sisters? We heard about their husbands.”

“They’re well enough, though still grieving as well,” Esme answered. “We’re just worried about them, and little Arlo. Mum convinced them to come home with us for the rest of the season.”

“And none too soon, poor dears,” Rosamunda said, in what she no doubt thought was a sympathetic tone. “They’ve been adrift all year and it’s getting worse, if you ask me.”

“I don’t recall anyone doing so,” Sara said dryly, seeing the offended looks on Ami’s and Esme’s faces. Rosamunda had the sense to appear contrite. “Care to get some food?” he asked them.

“We already ate,” Ami answered, rising. “Mum should be here soon, actually. We’re to help organize today. We should go look for her.”

“We’ll see you around then,” Mac said.

Ami and Esme made their way through the avenue of tents to the outer circle, each deep in her own thoughts. Then Ami stopped suddenly and turned on her heel. She returned to the cooking circle and waited for Alaura to take notice of her.

“Yes, Darling?” Alaura asked.

“Where is Lalia?” Ami asked. “I need to speak with her.”

“She’s at the Town Hole,” Alaura answered and returned to Menegilda. “You can put up a tent next to us. I’ll fetch out some of the lads to help.”

“Sara and Mac can manage on their own. It’s a small enough tent, and they’ve put it up before. Just show us where,” Menegilda replied, lifting a hand to wave over her children, who were just about to serve themselves breakfast. “You can eat later. Tent first.”

Ami gave them a sympathetic shrug and went on her way. She met Esme outside the circle and took her arm, leading her back into town.

“Where are we going?” Esme asked.

“To speak with Lalia,” Ami said, tightening her hold on her sister’s arm so she couldn’t get away.

“Why do I have to go?” Esme protested. “I’m not the one who stole her riding shawl.”

“I didn’t steal it either!” Ami protested. “I just forgot I had it. She’ll understand, don’t you think?”

Esme snorted. “Oh, Darling-dear, you do amuse me,” she replied unhelpfully.

Lalia was not understanding. She listened to Ami’s apology in silence, and when Ami finished, she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. She then proceeded to gently chide Ami in front of nearly every family matron in the Shire, lecturing her as she would an errant child caught nipping biscuits from the tin.

“But it wasn’t just the shawl, was it, Amaryllis?” Lalia began in a cool, calm tone. “You neglected to bring me my coat the other night at the feast, and you were the one who offered to get it. You forgot entirely about promising to help decorate the ballroom for Fort’s birthday party. As I recall, you decided it was more important to go into town and waste farthings on lace you didn’t need. You didn’t need it because you never did anything with it, did you? You were too busy sanding calluses into your hands making chairs or other such foolery than doing proper lass’s work. You left my son alone in the parlor the other day because the maid was feeling ill and you just had to go fetch the healer for her. It would have been a kind gesture if you had actually found the healer, but the maid ended up having to find her herself, didn’t she? Meanwhile, Rumbi had to sit there for nearly an hour before you saw fit to come back. The shawl is simply the final stroke.

“It is more than just irresponsibility,” Lalia continued, still calm, still quiet though there was a bite to her tone now that made Ami flinch. “It is inconsideration, not to mention a flagrant disregard for others. You do not forget things that are important to you, and so you clearly demonstrated that your promises to me and my son were of no importance to you whatsoever. Now what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I believe she already apologized,” Dora said, stepping neatly into the melee. She spoke softly while shielding Ami and Esme from Lalia’s glare. She was possibly the only matron is the Shire with the nerve to stand up to Lalia, except for Gardenia, who was unfortunately across the hall with the fellows. “A simple reminder to be more vigilant would suffice, if you are incapable of accepting her apology gracefully.”

“You dare to interrupt me?” Lalia asked, incensed.

“I do, and what’s more, I dismiss you, Darling, to go about your day. You’ve done enough here,” Dora said, looking sharply at Lalia. 

“Thank you, Auntie Dora,” Ami said, shaken by the encounter. She was tempted to apologize one more time but Esme’s pull on her arm made her think twice about it. Best to let Lalia calm down before attempting to speak with her again. She curtsied instead and fled as quickly as she could, missing the way the other matrons were glaring at Lalia on her behalf. 

“That went well,” Esme said once they were clear of the Town Hole and again nearing the fairgrounds. 

“How so?” Ami asked. Her face was still red hot with shame and not a small amount of anger. 

“She could have banished you from the Smials,” Esme replied. “I think there’s hope still.”

Ami rolled her eyes. “I think you’re sleeping on the settee tonight.”

“Come, Darling,” Esme said. “Let’s find Mum and see what we can do to help.”

The speeches finished, Rumbi excused himself from the hall and went across the way to the conference room where the ladies were gathering. They too would go into the Mayor’s Hall to interview the candidates, but they preferred to congregate in the conference rooms to discuss their opinions away from their husbands. 

He found his mother standing alone near the far window. He went to her and lightly pecked her cheek. “Morning, Mother,” he said.

Lalia looked at him in surprise before a grin split her face in cheer. “You’re early!” she exclaimed. “I was not expecting you until tomorrow. What a pleasant surprise!” She mussed his cheek in return.

“Mother, I need to ask you a favor,” he began.

“Anything you want, dearest,” Lalia said.

“I hope so. I want you to forgive Darling for forgetting about your riding shawl. She’s going to apologize to you at some point today, and I would appreciate it if you could be gracious,” Rumbi said.

“Oh, Rumbi,” Lalia said, her voice strained. “She already apologized. I was not gracious. I had a disagreement with your father this morning. It’s not an excuse.”

“What?” Rumbi said. “What do you mean? Darling was here already?” 

“She was,” Lalia admitted. “I may have snapped at her a little.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gathering her composure. “I will apologize for my rudeness, though if you do intend to make that lass your wife, you will need to teach her respect.”

Rumbi felt his hackles rise at these words. It wasn’t a far leap to guess just what the scene had been like, the way the other ladies were keeping their distance. “What do you mean, ‘that lass’? You have always been fond of Darling. She made one little mistake. She forgot. It’s not like you’ve never forgotten anything before.”

“Everyone forgets sometimes. She forgets all the time,” Lalia said. “That’s not a quality one looks for in a future Lady. I may have to reconsider giving my consent to this match. I had my reservations from the start.”

“Reconsider it all you want,” Rumbi said, keeping his voice low so that no one would overhear. “I am asking Darling to be my wife, and if she says yes, she will be the Lady one day. You’re just going to have to get used to that idea. You will apologize to her for overreacting, and you will not insult her again. I don’t care what disagreements you have with Father; she is not a part of that.”

Lalia met her son’s burning gaze with a fiery glare of her own. “I already said I would apologize.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Rumbi promised. He turned on his heel and left the room. 

He had to find Paladin and discover why he had failed in his assignment to keep Ami at bay. Then he needed to find Ami and make sure she was all right. She was not accustomed to being scorned or scolded, especially in public; she must be shaken, no doubt in shock.

He turned left out of the Town Hole and made his way across town to the Pheasant.

To be continued…

GF 7/5/11