Page 188 of Feathers in the Wind
So many books.
Jessie the Witch must put great store by learning. Not since the great library at Oxford have I seen such a collection. Every book I own is precious to me and cost dearly. I sometimes closet myself in my library and take each one out for the sheer pleasure of the touch of the paper and the smell of the leather binding.
There is one book more precious than all the others that I keep locked away and only bring out when I want to dream. I have thought much about it in the last few days.
In a glass cabinet, Jessie has an odd assortment of broken pottery and keys. My breath stops in my throat as I recognize one of the objects. Despite the rust, it is still familiar, just as my sword had been. Such a little thing but is this what binds us?
‘Why is this here?’ I ask Alice.
‘You will know in time,’ she replies.
* * *
Icame back from my morning run to find Nat fully dressed, standing in front of the cabinet containing the odd pieces of the cottage’s past that I had found during the renovation. I have enough interest in history to appreciate the value of the broken bits of pot, old bottles, bits of clay pipe and other pieces of household detritus that kept turning up as I worked on the house. They told the story of the previous inhabitants, and their story had become the story of the house.
I particularly liked the keys, which ranged from a giant iron door key to small cupboard keys and one particularly interesting item with the rusted remains of a fine filigree pattern on its head.
He turned around as I entered, inclined his head and smiled.
‘I have been looking at your books.’ He waved a hand at my overfilled bookcases. ‘You must be wealthy to possess so many books.’
I laughed. ‘No, I’m not. It’s just that books are cheap and I’m a voracious reader.’
His eyes met mine and he smiled. ‘Then you are blessed. Even I can only afford the luxury of purchasing a book every now and then.’ He frowned and looked me up and down. ‘What is that strange garb you are wearing?’
I sat and unlaced my running shoes. ‘I’ve just been for a run.’
His left eyebrow shot up as it did when some new concept intrigued him. ‘Who were you running from?’
‘No one. I just went for a run. It’s how I keep myself fit.’
‘The women of my household have no need of running.’ He narrowed his eyes, as if imagining the women of his household out for a morning jog.
‘From what I know of housekeeping in your era, I’m sure they didn’t need to do any extra exercise. I, on the other hand, have a stressful job and I find going for a run in the morning helps clear my thoughts for the day.’
He shook his head as if the concept utterly defeated him. ‘Perhaps I will come for a run with you, just to see what magic there is about it that has eluded me thus far in my life?’
I padded barefoot into the kitchen.
‘You’re quite welcome but we will need to get you running gear--suitable clothes for running,’ I said as I busied myself with making coffee.
He followed me into the kitchen, and leaning against the kitchen bench, looked me up and down, taking in my black singlet and matching leggings.
‘They make clothes just for running?’ That now familiar smile curled the corner of his mouth ‘They suit you.’
I felt a different heat color my cheeks and changed the subject. ‘So you like my books? Are you only interested in books on science?’
He considered that question for a moment before replying. ‘Science? What is that?’
I cast around for another word. It never occurred to me that the word did not exist in 1645.
‘Knowledge.’
‘No, I like poetry too. Have you read the works of Dr. Donne?’
I set the kettle down with a thump. ‘I love Donne. I even took an extra subject at university to study poetry.’
‘So, perhaps we are not so very different?’ Nat straightened and came to stand behind me as I plunged the coffee. With his voice lowered, he quoted,
