Page 30 of Must Love Lavender and Little Lies
“I never paid much attention to marriage customs. But maybe… I remember now, just a little, there was one older orcish man in our village who was unwed. There was a story about him being left at the altar. I don’t remember the details.”
“But, Granik, your family… If we break off the engagement?—”
“They will be humiliated,” he groaned, then closed the book.
“What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, we’d best figure it out soon. They’ll be here tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 10
GRANIK
Juniper spent the rest of the night plotting, but the deep sense of dread that swelled in my belly would not abate. This was not a real engagement. But when I called it off, there would be real consequences for my family and for me. As for me, I didn’t much care. Orcish law said I couldn’t marry. Considering I hadn’t given marrying any thought, I didn’t mind—much. But my family… Already, my moving away from Orcish lands had raised eyebrows. Now, if I called off my engagement to Juniper, their reputations would be ruined. I never wanted that.
I hardly slept that night.
When the sun rose the following morning, I dragged myself out of bed. There was work to do. Not only was it the Greening, but my parents would arrive today. I needed to start getting ready, including giving everything a good cleaning. Gree-Gree, my grandmother, would not miss a single speck of dust.
A bucket of soapy water in hand, I set to work cleaning my old farmhouse. I started with the three large guest bedrooms. When I bought the house, I’d thought it would be perfect if I ever met someone and had a gaggle of children, but the right person never crossed my path. That said, I hardly ever missedhaving someone. Juniper and I did just fine keeping one another company.
I had just finished in the house and was headed to the guest cottage outside when I heard commotion and a familiar laugh. I pushed open the screen door to see Juniper headed my way, Primrose, Winifred, and Rosalyn with her, Rosalyn pulling a wagon filled with supplies and her fluffy white caticorn.
“Ladies,” I called. “And Merry,” I added, greeting the caticorn.
“Merry met,” Juniper replied with a grin. “I brought reinforcements.”
“To…”
“To domesticate the place up a bit,” Rosalyn replied with a laugh. “It needs to look like you have a woman hanging around, doesn’t it? We have flowers, bread, groceries, and—” she looked at Primrose, “a little bit of magic.”
Primrose laughed. “Merry met, Granik. I thought maybe some subtle touches of domestic magic might help. If you don’t mind, of course.”
“My house is yours,” I told them. “I’m on my way to ready the guest cottage.”
“Do you have those goats penned up?” Juniper asked.
“Yes,” I replied with a laugh.
“Thank goodness. I’ll help you,” Juniper replied, then turned to the girls, giving instructions. Juniper then grabbed a basket laden with daffodils, bread, and jam jars with gingham-cloth-covered lids. “We’ll put these in the cottage. Come on,” she told me, leading me away while Primrose and Rosalyn headed inside.
We made our way to the cabin where we both began, wordlessly, working on tidying the place up. Juniper stripped the beds and took the linens outside to launder. I watched as she washed them, then hung them up on the line to dry, the sunlight making her hair glow golden and casting bright rays on the whitesheets. I smiled as I watched her. She was chatting with Abraxis, the most curious of my snufflecorns, who was using his horn magic to help her place the linens on the line. When she was done, she patted the pig, then came inside and started scrubbing counters. Her face was fixed with determination, but her mind was many miles away, no doubt readying herself for the green avalanche of excitement headed her way. When she was done, she set out vases of daffodils, baskets of bread, and placed her homemade jams on the table. Afterward, she went outside and started sweeping the front porch.
I mended some loose screws on the cupboards, repaired a broken handle, then joined her.
From the main house, I smelled the homey scents of grilling onions and something sweet.
“Is Rosalyn cooking?” I asked, confused.
Juniper laughed lightly. “She’s fixing an orcish stew, so you have something on hand to feed your family.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” I said, suddenly worrying what else I had forgotten.
“Thanks,” Juniper said with a grin. “It was my idea. The recipe, however, is courtesy of Portia, who has an orcish recipe book.”
I laughed. “And that is…” I said, gesturing to the pony cart headed my way.
“Emmalyn, with the ale and wine,” Juniper said, then looked at me. “Did you really think they’ll drink only tea?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
