Part 9 (1/2)

I woke up in the most beautiful room I had ever been in. The large canopied bed swathed with velvet fabric enclosed me in my dreams. I confess that my dreams mostly revolved around Eliot, his beautiful eyes and quiet smile. There lingered a tension between us from our former encounters, a magical feeling that I could not put my finger on-did not want to put my finger on, lest it dissipate. I knew he still wanted me, and I still wanted him, and though we had both accepted that we could not have each other, there was still a longing that I saw in his eyes which I am sure was reflected in mine.

I dressed quickly in jeans and a light sweater, splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth in the granite sink with copper fixtures. Everything here gave off an air of old elegance, of beauty enhanced by age rather than deteriorated by it. I tiptoed down the hall and down the main staircase. There was a chill in the air here that was not in my room, but my sweater kept me warm.

”h.e.l.lo?”

”Brynn?” His voice came from just around the corner on the first floor. I hopped down the rest of the way down the stairs and turned the corner to see him at the stove, the countertop covered in flour. Lucky sat on the edge of the countertop, licking at a small saucer of milk. Both kitten and man were dusted lightly in patches of flour-Lucky on his tail and Eliot on the end of his nose.

I clapped my hand to my mouth to stifle a giggle.

”Before you say anything, know that we-both of us-had the best of intentions with breakfast.” Eliot came over to me and gave me a chaste hug, careful not to transfer any flour from his body to mine. I reached out and swiped my thumb across his nose to get rid of the flour. He stared cross-eyed at my fingers and caught his breath. I stepped back and surveyed the kitchen, my hands on my hips. The sinks looked like they had been hit by a tornado, with piles of plates and gla.s.ses left unwashed, sprawling over the countertops. Behind them the huge windows gave a picturesque view of the mountains covered in snow, a fir forest creeping up to the edge of the estate.

”What exactly is it you are trying to make?” I asked.

”Pancakes. It seemed so simple at the university dining hall,” Eliot explained. ”I found a recipe in a book, but I must have added too much water. Then I tried to put more flour in to rebalance, you understand.”

I nodded seriously, my suppressed grin threatening to come to the surface.

”And that's when I realized we were out of eggs. And this little one-” he said, frowning and pointing with a batter-covered spoon, ”would not leave me alone. I had to give him cream to get rid of him!”

”That is a shame.” I petted Lucky on the head, and he purred happily, rubbing himself on my hand. He already looked happier than when I had found him yesterday.

”My mother always used to make such delicious palacsinta,” Eliot said, sitting down with a sigh in one of the kitchen chairs. ”Like pancakes, but stuffed with things, you know.”

”What do you normally have for breakfast?” I asked.

”Oh, just tea and bread with b.u.t.ter and honey,” he said. ”And a side of bacon. The butcher has such fresh cuts here. Much better than in America.”

My stomach grumbled, and Eliot raised his eyebrows.

”Sounds good to me,” I said. ”How about you make us some breakfast while I clean this up?”

Lucky meowed in apparent agreement and I got to work on the dishes while Eliot put a kettle on for the hot water. He happily fried up thick slabs of bacon, and the kitchen filled with the rich, heady scent of the meat. We sat down at the countertop with large mugs, the windows to the backyard now showing the first rays of sunlight coming over the mountaintops.

”What a gorgeous place,” I said. I sipped my tea. Eliot brought over the plates full of bread, honey, and bacon.

”Sometimes I forget how beautiful it is,” Eliot said. There was a sadness in his voice. ”We can go and walk the grounds later today, perhaps. I don't want you going out into the woods on your own.”

”Why not?” I bit into the loaf of bread, sweet and b.u.t.tery and crusty. My stomach calmed down as I continued to feed it the most delicious bacon I had ever tasted. I bit off the fatted parts first, leaving the crisp meaty bits for the end.

”Poachers.” Eliot sipped his tea and put the cup back down on the granite countertop. ”Among others. The deer are out, now, and the poachers come too close to my house for comfort. They're not allowed, of course, but when they track a deer past the boundary line...”

He shrugged. ”Let's just say that they don't care too much about whose property is whose.”

”They wouldn't shoot me, though!” I caught Eliot staring at my carefully dissected bacon. While he averted his eyes, I hastily ate the rest. My food routines would seem strange to anyone, and I didn't want Eliot to think I was weird.

”Of course not. At least, not on purpose. But always wear something bright to go out. I'll make sure Marta knows to buy you a brightly colored coat.”

”Marta?”

”My brother's wife. I called and asked if she might take you shopping today for some warm clothes.”

”Oh.” My mind raced. ”But, I really can't. I mean...”

Eliot looked at me, all questions in his eyes. How could I tell him that I was too poor to buy breakfast, let alone a coat?

”I think I'll be fine once the heater is on in the apartments,” I finished lamely.

”Nonsense,” he said. ”You'll freeze just walking to the academy from there. I really should have known. You can't ask a girl who lives her whole life in California to pack warmly for Hungary.”

”But,” I protested, my skin growing warm. ”I mean, it's just... I really don't have the money, you know.”

A flash of realization crossed his eyes, but Eliot waved his hand in the air casually.

”Of course, but Otto owes me a debt from long ago. I've already arranged it.”

”But-”

Eliot took my hand in his, and I felt a rush of warmth from the pressure of his palm over mine.

”Please, Brynn. It's no trouble at all, and we can't have students traipsing around the city dressed for summertime.”

I swallowed, nodding.

”And that reminds me, you'll be needing money for lunches and things.” He dug into his pocket and brought out a handful of bills. ”I noticed you hadn't changed any of your money yet.”

I took the money from him, startled with the generosity that he pressed on me.

”I'll...I'll pay you back.” I looked down at the bills. There were a half dozen 10,000 forint marks. I had no idea how much that was in dollars, but it felt like a lot.

”Of course, but no rush, no rush.”

”Who's the guy on the money?” The face looking back at me from the red and blue bill resembled Jesus, a man wearing a crown of crosses with a beard and long hair.

Eliot peered over. ”Him? That's Saint Stephen. Some say he was the first king of Hungary, although really there were others before him. He ruled over the country when the Pope gave us independence from the Roman Empire.”

”So he's famous here?”

”Well, we get a holiday for him. You're always famous if you have a holiday. That way people are sure to remember you, if only because they get a day off.” Eliot winked.

”The only saint we have a holiday for is Saint Patrick,” I said, tucking the bills into my pocket. ”And I'm pretty sure people think he was a leprechaun.”

”Saint Stephen was a good one as far as they go,” Eliot said, his voice turning quiet. ”'Be strong lest prosperity lift you up too much or adversity cast you down.' He preached a good doctrine, even if he didn't always follow it.”

A knock sounded from the front door.

”That must be Marta,” Eliot said. He got up from his chair. ”Early as always.”

”Can Lucky stay here with you while I'm gone?” I asked.

Eliot eyed the kitten warily. ”As long as he promises not to claw my leg when he wants cream.” He left to go open the door for Marta.