His father's blood friends had helped generously in the rehabilitation of his fortunes, and Constans had worked hard with his own hands. Now the task was finished, and he had persuaded Esmay to ride over from the River Barony and pronounce in person upon its merits. For let it be known that Piers Minor had lost no time in bringing home his bride, and both he and Nanna had insisted that Esmay must live with them. And Esmay had accepted gratefully, for all that she was an heiress in her own right, through inheritance of her uncle Hugolin's estate, and could have bought and sold Piers Minor and Nanna, and all their holdings, ten times over. But all of her red gold could not buy love, and Esmay was wise enough to know this. Moreover, the River Barony was but twenty miles distant from the Greenwood Keep, and at least twice every week Constans rode over and spent the night. It was pleasant to hear him tell proudly of the progress of the work; how yesterday the roofing of the guard-house had been started, and how to-day they had turned for the first time the waters of the Ochre brook into the moat. Esmay always listened attentively, and it pleased her to think that Constans looked at her when he talked, even though his actual words might be addressed to Piers Minor or to Nanna. Listening always, but speaking seldom, for she felt that he was waiting purposely until some milestone of achievement had been passed, and she feared that he might consider her unwomanly. So the summer had gone, the great work was accomplished, and now they were viewing it together. They had seen everything, going in turn from lighting platform to calving-barn; from forge and smithy to my lady's bower. And Esmay had duly admired all and pronounced it good.
Now they were standing in the great hall watching the martins as they circled around the red-capped gatehouse, and the white doves cooing in the eaves. A silence had fallen between them, and Constans, leaning against the window-casement, seemed to have forgotten of Esmay's very existence. Quietly she drew aside and left him, impelled by an irresistible desire to know if he would notice her absence and would follow her. Hardly had she stolen five steps away than she heard him start, and then turn to seek her. A sheer delight coursed through her veins, and she began to run.
"Esmay!" he called, but she would not stop, gathering up her skirts in both her hands, and trying not to look behind her. But he was quickly at her heels, and an inexplicable terror seemed to seize her; she looked about for a hiding-place; a door presented itself, and she clutched the handle desperately, but it refused to turn. Seeing her discomfiture, Constans believed that he was entitled to enjoy his triumph. He walked up with leisurely deliberation. "You are a goose," he said, and took her hands in his, as one who reproves a wilful child.
She assented meekly.
"To run away like that—so foolish, when I had something serious to say to you. Why do you suppose I brought you here? Why should I want you to see the house? why did I build it at all? Be good enough to answer me."
She looked up at him with the most innocent expression in the world. "Why?" she echoed, as though mightily puzzled, and immediately the male creature became miserably bewildered, and lost his confident bearing in the twinkling of an eye. Had she really misunderstood him? had he been deceiving himself from the very beginning? He turned pale and dropped her hands, and she, misinterpreting this relinquishment of ownership, felt the blood receding from her own checks. Two utterly foolish creatures, and yet their folly is not to be argued away by the wise men. For while it is the accepted theory that a woman always knows when she is loved (with which men please themselves), and per contra that a man is never unconscious of the favor in which he stands (with which women torment themselves), yet the truth is that neither man nor woman is ever certain of the fact until it is finally proclaimed in actual speech. So this is why lovers are always being asked to repeat and repeat again the magic words upon which all their happiness depends.
"The reason—you know—the reason why," he stammered, and then she came to his aid.
"Yes, I know, but tell me."
And thereupon he did tell her.
A year later, and Constans and his wife sat on a high point of land that overlooked the waters of the Lower bay and the broad, salt sea beyond the dunes. Several of Constans's neat-cattle had strayed, and he had determined to ride to the fishermen's village below the Narrows to inquire if the estrays had been seen in that direction. Esmay had accompanied him, and they had been all day in the saddle and were weary. Nevertheless, they were satisfied, for the lost cattle had been recovered, and in the morning the herdsmen would be sent over to drive them home.