“Eat these,” he said. “At least you will have something in your belly.”
As Sable and Cassius began to peel the eggs, across the hall at the entry, Rhoswyn had taken a pitcher from one of the soldiers who had brought forth the big wine barrel from Troy’s provisions. Most soldiers traveled with their own cups so there was no stash of drinking vessels to use. Rhoswyn had to hunt around in the kitchen yard and in the vault of the tower to find something to drink from, and she found a small collection of clay cups in the vault.
They were dusty but she blew at them, cleaning them of surface dirt, and prepared to provide them to her guests. She felt verily proud of herself for having found the cups at all. Topping off the pitcher of wine when she returned to the hall, she was just passing one of the tables when she heard the soldiers speaking on the meal.
“Slop,” one man hissed to the other as she passed behind them. “We’d be better eating what the horses are eating than trying to stomach this slop!”
His companion elbowed him. “You heard what de Wolfe said,” he muttered. “If anyone complains, he’ll throw them over the wall. And he will!”
The first man groaned. “But this isn’t fit for a man! The meat is like chewing on leather and the carrots are full of mud!”
His companion hushed him loudly and they both went back to drinking their wine while utterly ignoring the food. Having heard every word, Rhoswyn came to a halt behind them. Then, she looked around the hall to notice that no one else was eating the food she’d prepared but the dogs seemed to be quite well fed. They were moving from table to table, and men were taking their trenchers off the table for the dogs to eat on. As she realized no one was eating, reality dawned.
The food she’d served wasn’t fit to eat.
Mortified, Rhoswyn could only think of the fact that she had just served Troy’s knight and his lady wife a completely inedible meal that would surely embarrass her husband. And she’d worked so hard today; he’d even told her he was pleased with her. But now, with this terrible meal, surely he was anything but pleased. He was most certainly embarrassed about his inept wife.
Rhoswyn couldn’t face him.
Quickly, she spun on her heel and fled the hall, still carrying the cups and pitcher. She didn’t want to go to the kitchens because Audric was there, baking more bread, and she didn’t want to face the man, either. Certainly, he’d known the food was inedible but he hadn’t told her. He’d let her embarrass herself. Well, she didn’t want to see him at all. She’d made an utter fool of herself and she didn’t want to see anyone.
Verging on tears, Rhoswyn rushed into the tower and ran up the stairs, past the level that contained her bedchamber, and up to the top floor with its half-repaired roof. The English soldiers had been working on fixing the roof but it wasn’t finished yet, and the single big chamber was only half-covered. Rhoswyn could look up and see the stars above, with a cold wind whistling in, but that didn’t matter. She went over into the corner of the chamber and sat down, setting the wine pitcher and cups beside her. She was just so ashamed. The tears she’d been trying so hard to hold off were coming freely now.
She’d made a mess of everything.
Laying her forehead on her bent-up knees, she let the sobs come.
*
“I saw Rhoswyn by the entry but now she’s gone,” Troy said, standing up to get a better look over the smoke and crowd in the hall. “I wonder where she went?”
Cassius was on his seventh egg and Sable was on her third. When Troy made mention of his vanished wife, they, too, began to look around to see if they spied her somewhere in the smoky room, among the men, delivering more rotten meals.
“Where could she have gone?” Sable asked, bite in her mouth. “Should you go look for her, Troy?”
Troy thought it might be a good idea. Given that Rhoswyn was in a new environment, and not all that stable in it, he thought he might hunt her down just to make sure she hadn’t gotten into any trouble. As he moved away from the table, he realized that Sable was following him. When he looked at her curiously, she simply smiled.
“I would like to see this place a little more,” she said. “And when you find your new wife, I should like to speak with her. I was hardly able to say a word before she left.”
Troy didn’t see any harm in that so he let her come with him, but Sable couldn’t go anywhere without her husband, so Cassius brought up the rear. The three of them headed out into the dark autumn evening and Troy called to a couple of men within earshot, asking if they’d seen Lady de Wolfe. Both men pointed towards the tower, which Troy took to mean that she’d headed to the kitchen yard again.
It was, therefore, a little confusing, as well as concerning, to find Audric the only person in the kitchen yard. Troy introduced Cassius and Sable to the priest, but the man hadn’t seen Rhoswyn, so Troy took a chance and headed into the tower on his search.
She wasn’t in the vault where the food stores now were, so he continued up to the first floor small hall, the second floor where there were two sleeping chambers, but still no Rhoswyn. It was purely by chance that he headed up to the third floor even though the roof had collapsed on it, simply to say that he’d searched the entire tower, and he was surprised to hear sniffling when they came up the stairs to the doorway that opened on to that level.
Troy could see Rhoswyn sitting at the far end of the open-roofed chamber, huddled up in the shadows. He could hear her soft sobs. Holding out a hand to Sable and Cassius, silently asking that they remain in place, Troy emerged into the chamber that still smelled heavily of smoke and burned flesh. He was about halfway across the floor when he spoke softly.
“Rhoswyn?” he said quietly. “Are you well?
Rhoswyn’s head shot up when she heard his voice. Startled, and embarrassed, she quickly wiped at her face as if to erase all evidence that she’d been weeping but her eyes wouldn’t quit leaking. The more she wiped, the more she streaked dirt across her face.
“I… I’m well,” she insisted as Troy closed the gap between them and crouched down beside her. She refused to look at him. “I… I was simply weary from the day. It has been a busy day, ye know. And ’tis so noisy in the hall and there are so many men I dunna know, so I came here tae be alone. Just for a moment, ye understand. I wasna shirkin’ me duties.”
“You were weeping.”
“I wasna!”
Troy didn’t believe her for a moment. He moved from a crouched position to a sitting one, right next to her, leaning up against the wall of the chamber and effectively boxing her up against the corner. But his expression was full of concern.
“I would not imagine you would ever shirk your duties, no matter how difficult they were or how unfamiliar,” he said softly. “Are you sure you weren’t weeping? Mayhap because you have been doing something you have never done before? I am still pleased, you know. You worked very hard today.”
She snorted, wiping at her running nose and smearing it up her face. “I worked hard at a disaster,” she said. “I canna cook meat, I canna bake bread, and ’tis only by a sheer miracle that the men in the hall are able tae eat anythin’ at all. The meat is like leather and the carrots are cooked in mud!”
The tears were coming again. The more she talked, the more embarrassed she became. Troy had to fight off a smile; he felt so terribly sorry for her but it wasn’t in a critical sense. It was in the sense that she was a proud woman and she tried something that she’d failed at. He could see that Rhoswyn was much like he was; he didn’t like failure, either.
“’Tis only your first time doing such things,” he said. “You cannot expect to be perfect the very first time, with no one to really help you. I am sure you will do much better tomorrow.”
Rhoswyn shook her head vehemently. “I am not goin’ tae do this again tomorrow,” she insisted, sniffling. “The priest says he can cook. Let him! I’ve shamed ye enough with what I’ve done tonight.”
She was starting to sob angrily and Troy reached out, putting
a hand on her back in a comforting gesture.
“Is that what has you upset?” he asked. “You feel as if you have shamed me? Lady, you have pleased me greatly with your attempts to learn. You tried something you had never done before and even if it did not come to fruition the first time, the fact remains that you tried. To refuse to try, or to quit, would have been to shame me. But I do not think you are a quitter.”
His words brought Rhoswyn a great deal of comfort. Wiping at her cheeks, she eyed him. “Not usually,” she said. “But I’d be a fool tae think yer men could take two nights of cookin’ like this. They’ll rebel and then where will ye be? With no army and a wife who canna cook! Ye’ll be the laughin’ stock!”
Troy burst into soft laughter. He liked the way she said it; quickly and self-depreciating. Rhoswyn scowled at him for a moment, as if insulted by his laughter, before breaking into a grin that she tried very hard to stave off. His hand, still on her back, moved to her shoulder and pulled her against him as he kissed her temple, a gesture that had Rhoswyn’s cheeks flaming deeply.
“Well,” he sighed. “At least you can hold a sword. If I have no army, then it will be you I send into battle. Surely there would be no fiercer warrior in all the north.”
Rhoswyn was coming to feel the slightest bit better. Troy was comforting and kind, exactly as he had been nearly the entire time she’d known him. He wasn’t angry that she’d destroyed the evening meal, nor was he shamed. In her estimation, that was an extremely patient man. She was coming to appreciate him more by the moment.
“Are ye sure ye’re not ashamed of me?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Absolutely not. As I said, to shame me would have been not to have tried at all.”
Her tears were fading now, comforted by a husband who seemed to know the right thing to say. As she opened her mouth to respond, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and caught sight of Sable as she came into the chamber. Rhoswyn stiffened, embarrassed at what Sable might have heard, but Sable smiled gently at her as she approached.
“I am sorry to intrude, Lady de Wolfe,” she said, “but I wanted to thank you for inviting me here to Monteviot. I enjoyed the bread and the cooked eggs you made. And I also wanted to thank you for pulling me out of Kale Water Castle. I am hoping you can use me here, to help you with your duties. I have grown so bored at Kale that coming to Monteviot is a lovely change.”
Troy smiled faintly at Sable, a smile of thanks, before turning to look at Rhoswyn, his arm still around her shoulder. “Do you hear that?” he said. “Lady Sable is at your service. If you want her to show you how to cook a meal or sew a garment, then she can do that. You can learn a great deal from her.”
Rhoswyn looked at him, coming to understand that these English weren’t here to shame her. They were here to help her. She’d never had such help in her life, not from anyone, so it was a foreign concept. But she knew that, much as they were being kind to her, she must be kind in return. In truth, she was very grateful for their offer.
“I am thankful ye came when ye did,” she said to Sable. “Ye can save the English from one more night of me cookin’.”
Sable grinned. “I am very happy to help, my lady,” she said. “In fact, if you’d like, I can start helping tonight. Will you allow me?”
Rhoswyn was very interested in what she meant. “How?”
There was so much Sable could show her tonight, from preparing rooms for her visitors to preparing for the morning meal. So very much that she was happy to take charge of. Sable moved closer, holding out a hand. It was the hand of friendship, the hand of help. Rhoswyn looked at it dubiously, then looking to Troy for reassurance. He nodded his encouragement and she hesitantly reached out to take it. Sable pulled Rhoswyn to her feet but didn’t let go of her hand, looking her straight in the eye as she spoke.
“I’ll show you,” she said quietly. “Worry no more, Lady de Wolfe. Help has arrived.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
There was something about the scent of Rhoswyn that fed Troy’s lust in a way he’d never before known.
Womanly, musky. Something that filled his nostrils and went right through to his brain. She had long limbs and a long torso, and an hour before dawn, he’d managed to pull her clothing off, roll her onto her back, and cover her with his body. His mouth was all over her flesh, feeding on her breasts, as he wedged himself between her legs and thrust into her warm and tender folds. She gasped a bit and he knew it was because she was still sore from the previous night, unaccustomed to a man’s intrusion into her body.
But that was going to change.
Perhaps it was because Troy hadn’t been with a woman since Helene’s death. Or perhaps it was because something about Rhoswyn really did arouse him. Whatever the case, he thrust into her mercilessly until he found his release, but he didn’t relinquish her after that. He simply remained on top of her, holding her, his body still embedded in hers, kissing and touching her until he could feel himself grow hard again. Then he made love to her a second time, climaxing so hard that he bit his lip with the sheer force of it. And then he kissed her, deeply, his tongue tasting the honeyed recesses of her mouth as he moved in and out of her until his manhood was flaccid. He could feel what he’d put into her, making her very slick, and he wondered about the magnificent sons he would have from the woman.
Considering the mother, they would be the most powerful sons the Marches had yet to see.
Two days of knowing Rhoswyn had brought him to some conclusions. As he lay in the pre-dawn darkness, listening to the fire as it popped and crackled, burning low in the hearth, Troy knew that there was something about her that wildly aroused him, as if he couldn’t control himself. The smell of her, the feel of her – all of it created a combination he couldn’t seem to resist. Another conclusion was that for all of the lust he was feeling for her, that was all he wanted to feel for her. He couldn’t let his hunger for her cross the line into emotion. To do so would be to diminish the love he had for Helene. Gone or not, she was still the wife of his heart.
He wanted to keep it that way.
But, God… he had a feeling it was going to be difficult. As he lay there and listened to the birds, coming alive as a hint of dawn approached the horizon, Rhoswyn was laying on her side and he was right up against her, their warm flesh touching. His arms were around her, his right arm slung over her and his right hand by her left breast. He had his hand around it, feeling the warmth and softness in his palm. He kept thinking about their first full day together, and how hard she had tried to please him. And, God’s Bones, she was humorous when she wanted to be. When she smiled, she had slightly protruding eyeteeth on an otherwise brilliant set of teeth, but he found her smile very charming.
Just like the rest of her.
There was a soft knock at the chamber door, rousing him from his thoughts. Before he could move, Rhoswyn was leaping to her feet, grabbing at the tunics that were cast on the ground. She also grabbed for a dagger, all of this as Troy sat up in bed, watching her rush to the door with the blade in her hand ready to kill whoever was on the opposite side of the door.
“Who is it?” she demanded.
The voice was muffled on the other side of the panel. “It is Sable, my lady,” she said. “It is time to go to work.”
Standing naked at the door, Rhoswyn turned to look at Troy with a rather apprehensive look on her face. “I… I must dress,” she called back as Troy tossed the woolen coverlet off and went for his clothing. “I’ll be out in a moment!”
Troy could see that Rhoswyn was trying desperately to dress and not expose herself to him, so he turned his back on her as he went for his breeches and tunic. He found them quickly, sliding them on his muscular body and stoking the fire as Rhoswyn pulled on her leather breeches and the layers of tunics she usually wore. Troy glanced over his shoulder at her as she pulled on her boots, tying up the leather straps. In a flash, she was throwing open the chamber door.
Sable was standing on the la
nding, looking properly groomed and radiant in a dark blue wool traveling gown, one that was made for the rigors of travel or work. Rhoswyn came barreling out of the chamber, smelling of smoke and sex, in that order. Sable had been married long enough to know what a man’s musk smelled like. It didn’t seem to vary much. She smiled pleasantly at Rhoswyn but looking at the woman, her heart ached for her. She was an utter mess. Her beautiful hair was in a rat’s nest and smelling as if she’d just rolled in a man’s bed and probably a few pig pens, too.
Sable knew she couldn’t let the woman walk around like that, not if she was to be a proper wife to a very important border lord. She further knew that if the de Wolfe women got a look at her – Troy’s mother, for example – there would be hell to pay. She put her hands up to prevent Rhoswyn from rushing down the steps and on to the duties that await them.
“Good morn, Lady de Wolfe,” she said. “Will you wait here a moment? I must speak with your husband.”
Rhoswyn nodded, looking at Sable curiously as the woman entered the chamber where Troy was. She continued to watch as Sable whispered something to Troy, something that made him look at Rhoswyn as if considering what Sable was telling him. She suspected that whatever it was, it was clearly about her, because Troy finally nodded before both he and Sable turned to approach her as she stood in the doorway. Troy cleared his throat softly, perhaps a bit nervously, as he began to speak.
“My lady,” he said. “Lady Sable has pointed out something to me that we must address. Now, I realize that you have spent your life being trained as a warrior and living among men. For that reason, you have picked up the unfortunate habits of men.”
Rhoswyn cocked her head curiously. “Habits?” she repeated. “What habits?”
Troy wasn’t quite sure how to tactfully tell her that she looked like an unwashed animal, so Sable spoke kindly.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 230
