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Tea with the Elf
The problems with the booth for the Spring Faire had been sorted out to Granny Oldbuck’s satisfaction. A nice large spot, beneath one of the large oak trees would be roped off for the herbs and medicinals tables. And not too far from the path up to the Inn. They’d be better seen there, Cook had told her. And it would be a shorter walk to the Common Room if they wanted to rest up a bit and have a smoke by the fire. She’d left Granny to supervise the two ‘lovebirds’ as she termed them who were sitting at the smaller table in the kitchen talking quietly. Granny’s attention, though, she noted as she picked up her basket and headed for the door was focused more on the warm plum tarts and mug of sweetspice tea in front of her than on Ginger and Ferdy.
Cook stopped at the door and put her basket down for a moment. She grabbed her cloak from the peg and fastened it round her shoulders with an economy of motion. Her bonnet she clasped on her head, tucking a few stray curls beneath it. ‘Just going out to have tea with a friend,’ she called out to no one in particular as she opened the door. ‘Help yourself to a few more tarts is you will, Miz Oldbuck. And Ginger, you make sure she has plenty of hot tea if she wants it.’
The sun was bright as she stepped out from the kitchen. Shading her eyes against it, Cook took stock of the back yard. All seemed in order. She stepped off the porch and headed toward the edge of the Inn yard, toward the bower of trees near the groundskeeper’s cottage.
‘Are you there, Master Lithmîrë?’ she called out. ‘It’s just me, Vinca Bunce. I’ve brought some refreshments.’
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