Guy wasn’t sure he believed Allison’s claim that there was no witchcraft involved in making the pictures move on the thin box. But even so, he really couldn’t say anything. After all, he did have a genie living with him in his cabin.
“It must be nice not having to go out to the theater every time you wanted to be entertained,” Guy said as he sat back on the couch next to the young doctor. “And much better than having a group of idiot Morris Dancers on you land.”
He watched the movie while he ate his sandwich, actually rather pleased with the taste of the turkey. Sipping his water, he noticed that she was having a glass of wine. He wished he had thought to request the same, but it might have been a bit pushy of him to demand alcohol along with everything else she had done for him.
She had been exceptionally kind, treating his minor wound and even feeding and entertaining him. Some man was going to be very lucky to wed her. If it hadn’t happened already. He hadn’t noticed a ring on her finger, but that might not mean anything. As far as Guy knew, they no longer exchanged tokens of commitment when they got married in this New World.
“As enjoyable as this day is turning out, I’m not certain your betrothed would appreciate another man being in your home,” he said, casually fishing for information on her status. “And without a chaperone in sight.”