Alek Davies pushed open the heavy wooden door to the village pub. The small, dim room wasn’t much better lit than the night-dark street, and Alek grimaced. This wasn’t the type of place he favored, poor and provincial and homely, but at least it was clean. Relatively. He found an empty seat at a crowded table and waved over the publican for an ale and a hot meal. Sipping at his drink, he studied the others around the table. Farmers, most of them, he guessed; maybe a couple of business owners. Perhaps the miller and shopkeeper, and that bloke at the end could be a blacksmith with arms that thick. Locals, the lot. Gradually, Alek eased his way into the conversation, laughing along, dropping a comment here and there, buying a round of drinks.
A lull in the conversation gave Alek the opening he needed. “Say, who lives in that cottage south of the village? Big family?”
One of the men across from him nodded. “Sheppard. Wife’s a laundress. Got eight kids.”
“How old’s the eldest girl?”
This question got a few raised brows. A young fellow down the way, lanky but well-muscled, narrowed his eyes at Alek and muttered, “Eighteen.”
The man beside the surly youth clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Sloane, here, has got his heart set on Miss Honora Sheppard, pretty thing that she is.” The rest of the table chuckled as Sloane’s face reddened. “Gonna marry her someday, eh, Sloane?”
“Just need to save up a bit more,” Sloane said. He was soft-spoken enough that Alek had to lean in to hear him. “Should have enough by Lady Day.”
“Hmm,” Alek murmured, half to himself and half to the man beside him. “And how does she feel about it?”
The man shrugged. “Does it matter? Big family like that? Money’s tight, food’s scarce—she’ll jump at the chance, won’t she?”
Alek sat back and nursed his ale, letting the conversation wash around him. He thought of the girl he’d seen, undernourished but strong and fearless as she watched over her brothers and sisters. There was something compelling about her, something forthright and honest. She was exactly what he needed.
His neighbor’s words repeated in his head: big family, money’s tight, food’s scarce. A small smile pulled at his lips, and he took another sip to hide it. There was no doubt he could offer the girl more than her young swain, even in his current situation. He could sweeten the deal for her family, too, and he could make the offer long before Lady Day. He had to for his own reasons, not just competition.
His eye fell on Sloane, who was eyeing him with a scowl of jealous distrust. Alek bit back a grin. The boy would be disappointed, but the choice was Miss Sheppard’s.
Ignoring his rival, Alek finished his meal, paid the publican, and slipped out into the night.
Copyright 2025 by Eliza Prokopovits
