“You’re late again. Nell left for town early this morning. She’ll be back a bit before noon.”
“Again?” Robert’s brow furrowed. “That’s twice this week.”
Robert dismounted and crossed over to face her.
“Yes.” She replied. “The odd thing is, we’re not using any more provisions than usual.”
“Is there something you’re not telling me, Olga?”
Olga’s response was calculated, almost rehearsed. “It shouldn’t be so hard to figure out. She gets up early to ride into town, and she’s been doing it regular-like for the past few weeks, but she doesn’t seem terribly concerned with bringing back the provisions she left for. Sometimes she arrives after noon, and sometimes when she shows up her hair is mussed with strands of hay in it.”
“So you’re saying…”
“Come on, Robert. Figure it out.”
The realization sunk in. “Who’s the bastard putting it to her?”
“’Who’s the bitch?’ would be a better question. I followed her out last week, unbeknowest to her. She stopped at a farm just outside Colby. Her friend lives there. You know, the soldier’s wife?”
“Caitlyn?” As he began to process Olga’s words, his confusion became fury. “That little bitch…”
“Is probably tongue-deep in the soldier’s wife’s blonde flycatcher as we speak.”
“Why are you telling me this, Olga?” Robert’s scowl deepened, and his voice began to tremble slightly. “What do you stand to gain?”
“Gods, you’re daft, Robert.” She hauled her dress down to her waist, making sure that he caught an eyeful. “If you want, you know, revenge, there’s plenty of hay in the barn to roll in. Just say the word.”
“Cover your tits, Olga. You think I’d swive my best friend’s wife? You’re out of your mind.” He snorted in disgust. “Gods. Maybe she is, as you say, with Caitlyn. Maybe she’s having a good time. Then again, maybe not. Even if she is, having a roll with you wouldn’t make it right again. I have horses to take care of. Tell Murdo I stopped by.” He turned and left.
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