"I really don't understand this obsession tallfolk have over our ears." She sighed in mock exasperation, then flicked her ears at him. "They only freeze in cold weather. Speaking of." She went and fetched her grey squirrel-skin hat. "This shouldn't take very long."

"What?" Marcello asked. "The hunt? Or do you have to take Omauduan out again? I assumed the hunt would last hours, doesn't it?"

"No, just to the stables," she said. "I don't think I'm going to the hunt, dear. I'd rather be here. The house is going to be mostly empty then, anyway. I'll visit with Meg, if Brammie isn't with her."

"Oh," Marcello replied. He frowned. "Are you...going to miss it later?" he asked. "I know you've been looking forward to it."

She raised a shoulder. "Oh, if I go I'll just end up spending the whole time fretting o'er what's going on here. Plus, if most of the guests are gone, I'll actually be able to visit people properly instead of trying to spread myself out."

Marcello grinned. "Are you going to visit with me?" he asked. "Will I have the opportunity to count all those shirts?" Then he nodded. "It's a good idea. I really haven't seen much of anyone, either. Apart from the Queensman."

She crossed her arms over her chest to defend her shirts. "You can dream of how many shirts I have on. I'll take your little sisters to the stables too," she said, cheered. "They'll like the horses. Or we can play in the snow. I'll drag out Bram and Elaine too."

"Ah, I think Portia wanted to go," Marcello said cheerily. "You should take her. I..." He frowned. "Can I come, too?" he asked, after a moment. "I'm not doing anything else."

She giggled. "Of course you may. You don't have to ask, love; you're my husband." She gave him a stern look. "But if we have a snow-fight, you're on my team."

"Only because you're afraid I'll clobber you and put snow down your pants otherwise," Marcello teased. He kissed her. "Of course I'm on your team. Let me get dressed; I'll meet you at the door."