Catherine Archer - The Bride Of Spring

Benedict looked at Raine, who seemed determined to change the subject now as she asked, “Have you eaten, William?”

William flushed, glancing at Benedict and away. “Please do not fuss over me, Raine.” He shrugged, his gaze meeting the man’s then as if their maleness forged a bond between them. “She’s always wanting to know if I’ve eaten, thinks I’m too small.” He finished with a trace of defiance.

Benedict could see what this admission had cost him. He murmured, “One of my own brothers was quite small when he was your age. He’s nearly of a height with me now.”

William looked up at him in amazement. “Truly?”

Benedict nodded. “But it is also true that he has ever shown a hearty appetite. He would no more miss breaking his fast than a day of hunting, which I may tell you is no small matter in his mind.”

He could see that this information was being taken into account most seriously. William looked down at his own spare frame. “As you see, my lord, I am somewhat lacking in size, but you give me hope that it will not always be so.”

Benedict asked, “Was your father a small man?”

A shadow passed over the lad’s face at this mention of his father, but he answered evenly. “Nay, my lord, he was a tall man, though not so large in form as you.”

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