[Envinyatar]

“Is this to be a surprise for the hand fasting I have heard so much talk about?”

Derufin brushed his arm across his forehead. It was hot in the noontime sun. Shading his eyes with his hand, he smiled widely at the young woman. ‘It is a surprise . . . Mistress Cornthrift, is it?’ With his free hand he made an open gesture toward the great oak tree. ‘Let’s finish our talk in the shade, what do you say?’

Egbert Proudfoot left them as the three headed toward the table set in tree’s shade. ‘You’ll join us for lunch won’t you,’ he said to Jinniver, making it more of a statement than a question. ‘Buttercup!’ he called out to serving lass as she buzzed about the table setting out baskets of bread and pots of butter. The five lads who had been helping at the cottage followed close behind her – she’d commandeered their assistance in setting out the bowls and table ware and mugs. She looked up and smiled to see him approaching.

‘We’ve another for lunch, Buttercup,’ he grinned, nodding at Jinniver. ‘Can you and Cook accommodate her?’

‘Her and half the Shire, if need be,’ laughed Buttercup. ‘Don’t you know Cook’s gone and made enough stew and blackberry tart to feed a multitude?’ Buttercup motioned for Ferdy to come near. ‘Be a love, now won’t you! Just go and fetch an extra stool for the lady?’ she instructed him, turning him about and pushing him toward the kitchen’s door. There were baleful looks from the other lads as Ferdy stumbled past them, his cheeks crimson.

‘Listen, Buttercup,’ said Derufin pulling the Hobbit aside. ‘Can you keep Zimzi from the cottage until after the wedding? I’ve a little surprise for her that I don’t want her to know about.’ Buttercup looked round Derufin to where Ferdy was just seating Jinniver. ‘And I suppose that one there has something to do with the “surprise”?’ ‘As a matter of fact she does.’ Derufin hurriedly explained his ideas as Buttercup nodded her head. ‘I’ll let Cook know. She’ll find plenty to keep Zimzi occupied.’

Derufin seated himself next to Jinniver just as the servers were going about the table pouring cold cider or ale. ‘I have to say that I know nothing, really, of flowers . . . only that my lady is fond of them and I would have her happy. Horses I know about and the fixing and building of things. But the mystery of growing things escapes me. If you are agreeable, Mistress Cornthrift, I would be happy to leave the planning and plantings in your hands. Something bright and colorful and welcoming would be enough for me.’ ‘There is one other thing you should consider . . .,’ he said, passing her the basket of bread that Andwise had passed to him. ‘The hand-fasting will be in a week’s time. Will that be enough for you to work your magic?’