As he’d been saying all along… it wasn’t as if he could change things.
Rhoswyn would have to find her own way now.
CHAPTER TEN
For some reason, Rhoswyn didn’t want to bid her father a farewell.
She’d awoken, alone in the makeshift bed and feeling momentarily disappointed that Troy hadn’t remained with her. But the moment she sat up, she saw that the fire had been stoked and her clothes, which had been piled up in the corner, were lying on the floor before the fire to warm them before she put them on. That was an incredibly thoughtful gesture and one that brought a rather bashful smile to her lips. Even if Troy had left her sleeping, he’d still thought of her.
Somehow, that meant something.
So, she rose from the bed and pulled her warm clothes on, going to the window of the tower to see the northern part of the bailey and the fact that it was full of men and wagons, men preparing to depart Monteviot. She knew her father was out there, somewhere, but she didn’t feel much like seeing him. She knew he would ask her questions about the night, and if the marriage had been consummated, and that wasn’t something she wanted to share with anyone, least of all her father. She was still trying to process what had happened last night because, for the first time in her life, she felt like a woman.
She’d never felt that way before.
It was quite a paradox – the woman who had only ever wanted to fight like a man versus the sensual woman that had emerged under Troy’s expert touch. The way he’d touched her, kissed her… was that what it meant to be a woman? To feel warmth and excitement and tenderness? No one had ever told her that aspect of it although, in hindsight, she thought her mother might have tried, but she’d been too young to understand. Certainly, she couldn’t have grasped all that had happened last night. All she knew was that she liked, very much, what had happened last night and she was both ashamed to admit it and eager for more.
It made for a very confusing state.
But she didn’t want to talk to her father about it. She’d seen the man the previous night and he said all he needed to say to her – or, at least, all she wanted to hear. She didn’t want to spoil her memories of last night with her father’s questions or last minute advice, and she waited in the chamber as the sun rose until the last of the English troops filtered out of her line of sight. By that time, she could only assume that nearly everyone had left, including her father, so it was then that she put her boots on and made her way down to the entry level of the tower.
But she was hesitant about going outside. She stood in the doorway, peering out into the brisk early morning, and seeing that there were at least a few hundred English soldiers who hadn’t left. Some were cleaning up the clutter and debris left behind by the armies while others were repairing part of the stables. She even saw the priest who had performed the wedding mass going into the stables, perhaps to tend his horse. Everyone seemed to have assigned duties so Rhoswyn stepped out into the morning, keeping an eye out for Troy. She found that she very much wanted to see the man, but she was nervous to see him in the same breath. It made for a strange quandary as she headed for the great hall, thinking he might be there. She was nearly to the door when she heard her name being called.
“Rhoswyn!”
Sharply, she turned to see Troy heading towards her, jogging across the bailey from the direction of the stables. He was wearing almost all of the armor she had seen him wearing yesterday when she’d defeated him, but now with the sun glistening off of the steel mail, it glimmered like light reflecting off the water. There was some kind of surreal quality to it and her heart began to thump against her ribcage at the sight of him. Would he be happy to see her, too? Or would he realize what a terrible mistake they’d all made? She held her breath as he came close.
“How did you sleep?” he asked as he came to a halt. “I was up before dawn because my father and his men were moving out, but I did not want to wake you.”
That voice. Rhoswyn knew now that it wasn’t merely the sight of the man causing her heart to race, but that voice. It affected her like a potion, something that made her feel and react as if she had no control over it.
“I slept well,” she said, but the conversation stopped after that and she felt as if she should say something more. “I… I saw the men movin’ out earlier. It willna take long for yer father to reach his home?”
Troy shook his head. “Castle Questing is twelve miles from here,” he said. “They will be home before supper. Now, my brother, Patrick, will take longer than that. He will not reach home until tomorrow.”
Rhoswyn simply nodded. She wasn’t very good with small talk, especially to someone she didn’t really know. She’d never been very good with the art of conversation in general although, in this case, she wanted to be. She didn’t want Troy to think he’d married an idiot.
“I… I remember meetin’ yer brothers but I must confess, I dunna remember much about them,” she said, grasping for things to say. “Mayhap someday they will return and I will come tae know them better.”
Troy thought that sounded rather encouraging; he, too, had feared that he might meet with a wife full of regrets this morning and was pleased to see that, at least on the surface, it wasn’t the case. He had to admit that he was rather pleased to see her this morning. It had been a long time since he’d had the opportunity to greet a wife in the morning, although Helene hadn’t been much of a morning lover. She was up early, usually grumpy, and that didn’t wear off until midday. Funny how he found himself comparing Rhoswyn to Helene, noting one against the other.
With Rhoswyn, he was about to embark on a whole new world.
“Not only will my brothers return to Monteviot, but we shall also go to them,” he said belatedly. “I know you said that you have not traveled much, but I should like for you to see where my brothers live and meet their wives. Everyone will want to meet you.”
She looked at him, her expression torn between suspicion and apprehension. “Why?”
He laughed softly. “Because you are part of the de Wolfe family now,” he said. “My mother calls it the de Wolfe pack, you know. You shall hear it referred to that often.”
He said de Wolfe pack with a heavy, and perfect, Scottish burr and Rhoswyn’s eyes widened. “Yer mother says it that way?”
He noted her surprise. “She’s Scot,” he said. “Her father, my grandfather, was the chief of Clan Scott. Now, the chief is a close cousin, but my mother is much like you – she is also the daughter of a chief.”
Rhoswyn was astonished. “Is it true?” she said. “I dinna know yer mother was Scots. Ye dinna tell me.”
Troy shrugged. “We could only speak on so much last night,” he said. “You cannot learn everything about me all in one night. As the days go by, we’ll learn more of each other, including my mother being Scots. My brother, Patrick, married a Scots, too, as did my Uncle Paris and my Uncle Kieran. We have family ties to the Scots more than most, so my marriage to you really isn’t anything shocking in the annals of my family. In truth, it’s quite natural.”
Oddly enough, Troy didn’t seem so much of a Sassenach now that Rhoswyn knew his mother was a Scot, and there were evidently a host of other Scot wives in his family. That thought gave her a great deal of comfort, in fact. She was already warming to him, but that bit of news seemed to warm her even more.
“Then I shall be pleased tae meet yer mother someday,” she said. “But if she’s from Clan Scott, they dunna get on well with Clan Kerr. Did ye know that?”
He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “Hopefully, that will not pertain to you and me,” he said. “I know our introduction was brutal, but I hope we get on well, in time.”
That soft comment sent her heart beating so fast that she was coming to feel faint. It was flattery, she thought, or at least could have been. It was such a sharp contrast to yesterday and the chaos of the day that she had no idea how to gracefully deal with it. Rhoswyn was accustomed to dealing with men, with battles,
with commands and fighting, but introduce flattery into her world and she was at a loss.
Having no knowledge of how to respond to that, she simply looked away, looking across the bailey and saying the first thing that came to mind.
“It seems that everyone is workin’,” she said, sounding nervous and hating it. “I can work, too. What would ye have me do?”
Troy could hear the trembling in her tone and he fought off a grin. He made her giddy with kind words and she wasn’t accustomed to them; he could tell. He thought it was rather sweet in a way he’d not experienced in a very long time.
“You have a very big job, Lady de Wolfe,” he said.
She looked at him as he addressed her by her title for the first time. Of course, she’d heard it last night, from others and from his command to the other knight, but it was the first time Troy had addressed her directly.
Lady de Wolfe.
She rather liked the sound of it.
“I am not afraid,” she said firmly. “What would ye have me do?”
Troy’s eyes twinkled at her before he turned to point at the tower and the hall. “All of this is your domain,” he said. “There is a nooning meal to be planned and then an evening meal. Stores must be inventoried and food must be cooked, and then you must do it all again tomorrow. You are chatelaine now and that is the biggest duty of all.”
Rhoswyn stared at him. Then, she looked to the enormous tower, the hall, and she felt a rush of anxiety.
“But…” she said, stammering over her words. “I… I dunna know anythin’ of managin’ a house. I wouldna know where to begin.”
Troy looked at her, seeing that she’d literally gone pale over the past few moments. It was the first time he’d really seen fear in her expression.
“You are being modest,” he said. “Surely you know something.”
She shook her head, her fear growing. “Nay, I dunna.”
“But you said your mother taught you things that ladies should know. Did she not teach you how to manage a house?”
As Troy watched, tears sprang to Rhoswyn’s eyes, tears that she very quickly blinked away. “I was never in the kitchens,” she said. “Me pa dinna want me tae do woman’s work. But… but I can repair the roof of the stable. Would ye let me do that instead?”
Troy wasn’t particularly surprised to hear what must have been a difficult confession. She’d been raised as a son; he knew that. He just didn’t know how deep that training ran. Now, he could see that it more than likely ran very deep and Rhoswyn was either terribly embarrassed to admit it or afraid to admit it. In either case, she was looking a little shaken, afraid that she couldn’t fulfill what he’d asked her to do.
“I do not need you to repair the roof,” he said. “I need you to handle the kitchens and the chatelaine duties. You were truly never taught?”
She shook her head, looking miserable. “Nay. I… I am sorry. Are ye sure there’s nothin’ else I can do?”
Troy felt rather sorry for the woman. Was it really possible that, trained in a man’s world, she knew nothing of a woman’s place in it? It seemed far-fetched, but perhaps not so outlandish in Rhoswyn’s case. He didn’t know a lot about kitchens or tending the house and hold, but he’d seen his mother and wife go about their duties. He supposed he could help Rhoswyn figure it out because, for certain, he didn’t want her doing things that his men could do.
“Rhoswyn,” he said, rather seriously. “I have men to mend roofs and repair walls. I have men to shoe horses and tend the weapons. What I need is a wife who will tend to my house and hold, and make a comfortable home for me. If your father would not let your mother teach you some things, then that was unkind of him. A woman’s place is to please her husband and tend his home. You do understand that, do you not?”
Rhoswyn looked rather lost with his question. After a moment, she shrugged. “I remember watchin’ me ma as she went about her duties,” she said. “But I was always with me pa, learnin’ from him. And after me ma died, the servants took up her duties. I never learned.”
Troy cocked a dark eyebrow. “Then you are about to learn,” he said. “That is where I need you most. I believe you are an intelligent woman and you will learn what needs to be learned. Are you at least willing?”
Rhoswyn looked into his face, thinking that if she wasn’t willing, then it would disappoint him. Yesterday, she wouldn’t have cared, but this morning… she cared. Her father had told her to be worthy of her new husband… but, God’s Bones, she wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t. She only knew how to fight and not how to be a wife. Was she willing to learn? For the first time in her life, she was willing to learn what a woman did. And it wasn’t to lift a sword.
She was embarking into new territory.
“Aye,” she said after a moment. “I am willin’.”
He smiled faintly at her in a gesture that made her knees go weak. “Good,” he said. “I do not know very much, but I think I know the basics of it. Come along with me; let us determine what it is you need to do.”
Taking a deep breath for courage, Rhoswyn followed.
*
“I suppose these are the kitchens.”
Troy said it as if he didn’t quite believe it. They were at the rear of the tower, in a small, walled area, but the entire area was torn up. There were farming implements scattered on the ground and two big iron pots laying in the mud. A couple of chickens were scratching about and there was a nanny goat with a kid nibbling on anything they could get their lips on. Troy scratched his head.
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I suppose the first thing to do is to determine what you have to work with. Pots and that kind of thing. Then, you should probably make sure these animals have feed. The feed, I would guess, is in the barn or around here somewhere. Pen up the chickens and see if they’ve laid eggs somewhere. You will need those eggs.”
Rhoswyn was trying very hard not to feel overwhelmed. She looked around at the utterly neglected area, seeing that the goats looked a little skinny. She’d always had a soft spot for animals so she went to the pair before she even looked to anything else, petting the little kid and running her hands over the nanny’s body.
“Poor wee beasties,” she said. “They’re hungry. I’ll go find their feed right away.”
Troy didn’t stop her; she was already disoriented enough so he didn’t want to upset whatever balance she was trying to find. If she thought the goats needed tending first, then he would let her. But he remained in the yard, finding three eggs, while Rhoswyn was off finding something for the goats to eat. It didn’t take her long because she pilfered from the horse’s feed, the dried grass and grains that Troy had brought with him in his provisions wagons. As Troy found a fourth egg in the ruined yard, Rhoswyn came rushing back with a sack of grain in her arms.
“Here we are,” she said as she rushed over to the goats and dropped to her knees, setting the sack to the ground. She tried to rip at the sack but she couldn’t break the seams, so Troy pulled out a small dagger and handed it to her. Smiling gratefully, she slit a small hole in the sack and poured the grain onto the ground. “Eat, wee sweetings.”
The goats began to munch hungrily and Troy herded the chickens towards the grain so they could eat also. With the animals being fed, Rhoswyn set the sack of grain against the wall of the tower, since the kitchen yard backed right up to it, and brushed off her hands.
“There,” she said, as if feeding the beasts was the most important thing in all of this. “Now, what more would ye have me tae do?”
The fact that she would feed the animals before anything told Troy that Rhoswyn had a softer heart than she let on. A little something more he was learning about her. He put his hands on his narrow hips, looking around the yard.
“As I said, inventory what you have here,” he said. “I found four eggs and put them in the hen’s pen over there. That looks as if it can use some repairing, too. Mayhap you could fix that so your chickens do not run away or get eaten by hungry men. Once y
ou have cleaned this area up, find me and we shall determine what needs to be done next.”
“Next?” she repeated. “How will we even know what tae do next? Although I appreciate yer help, I feel as if one blind man is leadin’ another in this matter. Neither one of us knows much about kitchens. Mayhap I should send tae Sibbald’s for one of the womenfolk tae come. At least I could learn from her.”
Troy scratched his head. “That is a possibility,” he said. Then, he cocked his head thoughtfully. “But I have a better idea; I will send for one of my knights and he can bring his wife. I was not going to bring any of my knights here but, in this case, I think I should. His wife can teach you how to run a house and hold, at least the way I am used to things. Would you be willing to learn from her?”
Rhoswyn looked at him dubiously. “An English lass?”
“She could teach you well.”
She mulled it over, suspecting it might make him happy if she agreed. She’d married an Englishman so perhaps she’d better learn the English way. Therefore, she nodded reluctantly.
“As ye say,” she said. “But… but she willna think me a fool, will she? For not knowin’ what I should probably know, I mean.”
Troy smiled. “She will be very kind and patient with you, I promise,” he said. “Shall I send for her, then?”
“Aye.”
“Good.”
“When will she come?”
He glanced up at the position of the early morning sun. “If I send a swift rider to Kale Water now, she can be here by sup, more than likely. Kale Water Castle is only ten miles to the north.”
It all sounded reasonable to Rhoswyn. She looked around the yard, at the mess around them. It would be a daunting task for anyone. “Ye’d better warn the lass of what she’s comin’ intae.”
There was some dry humor in that statement and Troy grinned. “No warning needed,” he said. “English women are not as weak as you seem to think they are. But until she arrives, you can tend to the animals and repair what you can around here. Then we need to discuss what to do about an evening meal. My men will be hungry.”
DarkWolfe: Sons of de Wolfe (de Wolfe Pack Book 5) Page 16
