He relayed what Elspeth Muir had said about Peregrine’s being adopted. “Ah,” she had said. “That explains some of the rumors.” “Meaning?” “Well, he doesn’t really look like any of them. Father nor mother. The rather mean village tittle-tattle should not be repeated, but it does get around.” He should have known, Awena was not one to pass along unsubstantiated gossip. “What do you know of the family? You’ve been here much longer than I have.” “Not much, really. Only hearsay. Old tales about how the son was supposed to have been in hospital but emerged as hale and hearty as you please, and far too big for the age they claimed he was. Nothing that amounted to fact, you see. Just silly conjecture. You know how people can be. Especially since the family was seldom around and had not made itself popular, there was a lot of room for speculation.” Max thought, Awena would have been a very young woman, newly arrived in the village and busy establishing her shop, when the young lord came on the scene.
