Adam announced early the next morning. “If we are to bring in greenery, we will have to do it before midday, for I believe it will soon begin to snow again.” “We’ll need a Yule log,” cried Blaise, entering into the spirit of his father’s suggestion. “I know where the mistletoe grows. Let us ride into the forest as soon as we have broken our fast and see what we can find there.” “Constance, Lady Aline, you will join us,” Adam commanded. “Oh, no,” Constance replied. “I cannot. The cold – and I would have to ride. Oh, no, my lord, I beg you, let me remain here and supervise the cooking. There is so much to be done before the holy day. Oh, my lord, do please allow me to stay behind.” “Nonsense, Connie.” Aline broke into the stream of protesting words. “It will be fun, and you deserve a break from your chores. The fresh air will make your cheeks pink and give you an appetite.” “Now, there you are right,” said Blaise, who had given Aline a strange look upon hearing her nickname for his wife.
