by Barb Hendee
Two serving women hurried in carrying trays, and Jarrod waved me toward the table. “Over here.”
Miriam and I both moved to join him and Rolf, and I realized I wouldn’t be allowed to see my room and change for dinner. While I didn’t exactly wish to dine in a damp dress with my tangled hair hanging about my face, I was hungry and hoped fervently for a mug of tea.
In truth, anything warm would have sufficed.
I waited for Jarrod to take his seat so the rest of us could follow suit. He did not. To my shock, he stood beside the table and poured himself a mug of what looked to be ale. Then he poured another and held it out to me. I didn’t care for ale.
Of course, though, I nodded and took it, and he gestured down to a tray on the table. “Help yourself.”
The only items on the tray were two loaves of hardened bread and a half wheel of cheese with mold on the rind.
Sebastian had the good grace to look slightly abashed. He stepped in to begin cutting cheese and bread.
Kai watched my face carefully, and his resentment was unmistakable. He thought me a snob who viewed them all as far beneath myself, who viewed this place as far beneath myself. Perhaps he was not wrong.
“With your help,” he said slowly, “we can dine properly tomorrow.”
Without noticing his youngest son’s biting tone, Jarrod nodded at me. “The kitchen women have grown lazy. It’s your place to shake them into minding their tasks. You’ll see to it.” He paused. “I want to have guests here soon and not be ashamed.”
I was hungry enough to eat the chunk of cheese and sip at the ale to wash it down, but my mind reeled. These men expected me to take this bleak, decaying place and turn it into a home suitable for entertaining?
Could Helena even have managed that?
Maybe she could. I only felt daunted. No one had trained me to run a household. I’d been honed for other things—for watching and listening and helping my father to know whom he could trust and whom he could not. What did I know of organizing the kitchen staff?
After a few bites, I felt too exhausted to eat and set down my mug.
Taking note of this, Jarrod waved to one of the serving women. “Show your new lady to her room. You know which one.” He looked back to me, and his eyes were hard. “Rolf will be up later.”
Somehow, I met his gaze and nodded.
Then Miriam and I followed the serving woman out.
* * * *
Thankfully, the room I was given, on the second floor of the single tower, was not entirely awful.
It was—or had been—a woman’s room. I’d wondered if the Volodanes would abide by noble customs that the lady of the house should have a room to herself, where her husband might visit when he pleased. Apparently, they did, as there was nothing in this room to suggest Rolf had ever slept here.
The furniture was old, faded, and in need of a polish, but the four-poster bed was large, with a thick, eyelet comforter. The dressing table was well crafted from rich-toned mahogany. A matching wardrobe stood beside it. A moth-eaten tapestry covered one wall. There was no fireplace, but two candles burned on a bed stand, providing sufficient light.
Walking to the dressing table, I gazed into the mirror and cringed, as I was more bedraggled than I’d realized. I looked like a drenched peasant girl.
Miriam stood in the center of the room, taking in the furnishings. There was a second small table on the far side of the bed sporting a basin and chipped pitcher. I briefly wondered if there was water in the pitcher, but then I saw Miriam’s face. She was pale and stricken.
“Oh, my lady,” she breathed. “Your mother couldn’t possibly have known.”
“Yes, she did,” I answered shortly. “Or she didn’t care.” I sighed. There was no use for either of us to stand there feeling sorry for ourselves. This was our home, and we had to make the best of it. One of my chests had been carried and set at the end of the bed. “See if I have a clean nightgown in there. I must get out of these damp clothes.”
She needed out of her damp clothes too, but one thing at a time.
Taking action of any kind took my mind off the impending outcome of this night. Miriam peeled off my dress and my shift and then helped me into a long white nightgown. I sat down at the dressing table and she used an extra blanket to rub my hair nearly dry before brushing it out. Soon, it sprang in its usual curls around my face.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help saying, “I’m sorry I begged you to come. I was a coward, fearing to be alone here.”
She continued brushing my hair. “I’d never leave you, my lady.”
Her devotion did not assuage my guilt.
Before I could speak again, the door opened, and Rolf stepped inside. He hadn’t bothered knocking. Though I didn’t turn, I could see in the mirror that he’d at least removed his armor and sword.
“You’d best go,” I told Miriam quietly, and then it occurred to me I had no idea to where she was supposed to go.
As if reading my face, Rolf said, “A small room’s been readied. One of the servants can show her.”
With a reluctant nod, Miriam hesitated for a breath and then fled, closing the door as she left.
I rose from my chair and turned. As opposed to looking at me, Rolf looked about the room in obvious discomfort. He was dressed only in a wool shirt and dark pants. Even without his armor, he made an imposing figure. But here in the candlelight of the room, his face was not unpleasant. Though his features were broad, they suited him, even to the bump at the bridge of his nose.
“Whose room was this?” I asked.
His eyes flashed to me, and his discomfort grew. “My mother’s.”
Finally, someone had made reference to her. I had no intention of letting this pass. “How did she die?” For I was certain she must be dead.
“In childbirth. With Kai.”
“Oh . . .” The ramifications of that began to set in. “So this place has had no lady for twenty years?”
He shook his head. It was indeed a house of men.
“Poor Kai,” I said without thinking.
His eyes were still on my face. “Why?”
“To grow up without any mother at all. No wonder he’s so angry.”
Rolf hard face softened slightly. “Sometimes, I think he blames himself, but none of us do.”
I realized then that Rolf cared for Kai, and this changed my opinion of him. At least he cared for someone.
As we fell silent once more, the tension in the room became palpable, and I realized something else. Rolf had no more desire to be placed in this situation than I did. Oh, he’d wanted me to choose him well enough. He thought it his due as the eldest brother. He’d wanted the connection to the house of Chaumont and all that went along with such a connection.
But maybe that was all he’d wanted, and now he was faced with the stark reality of a wife. His father most certainly expected the marriage to be consummated and for grandsons to follow soon.
Rolf wasn’t stupid though, and as these thoughts ran through my mind, he watched my face.
His own face hardened again, and he pointed to the bed.
A measure of fear settled in my stomach. While I knew I could not refuse him, I wasn’t entirely certain what was about to happen. My mother never spoke of such things. Still, there was nothing to stop it now, so I walked over and crawled under the comforter on the bed.
Rolf pulled his shirt over his head and got in beside me. I’d never seen a man without a shirt. His arms reminded me of tree branches.
For few moments, he did nothing and almost seemed to expect me to do something. If that were the case, he would be sorely disappointed. Finally, he sighed and leaned over and touched his mouth to mine. It was not unpleasant. It simply felt as if he was acting out a duty. I tried to respond, but wasn’t quite certain how.
Then I felt his hands on my sides, pulling up my nightdress.
Apparently, he did know what to do.
What followed was both invasive and uncomfortable, but it didn’t last long, and I had the distinct impression it wasn’t any more pleasant for him.
Once again, this was not an auspicious beginning to a marriage.
* * * *
The next morning, I was relieved to awaken and find Rolf already gone.
Miriam brought me water for washing, and then she pulled the yellow muslin gown from a chest.
“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll wear my old blue wool. It’s warmer and I want to look like myself again.”
Though she hesitated and seemed on the verge of argument, she held back and fetched my favorite dress. It was a simple gown of blue-gray that had probably been washed too many times. It fit me well and laced up the front.
Once I was dressed, I had her weave my hair into its usual thick braid and I pushed the new shorter strands behind my ears. If I was the “lady of the house,” I should be allowed to dress as I pleased. Rolf probably wouldn’t care one way or another, and I had a good deal to accomplish today.
“I’m going down,” I told Miriam. “Would you mind sorting through these chests and putting my gowns in the wardrobe?”
I wasn’t entirely sure what the chests held as my mother had packed for me, but I’d managed to stash my blue wool when she hadn’t been looking.
“Of course, my lady,” Miriam answered, pushing up her sleeves.
And so, with that, I headed out of the room, down the passage, and down the curving stairs of the tower. I had an aging keep to try and put in order, and it seemed only sensible to begin in the filthy main hall.
The first things I saw upon entering were Sebastian and Kai, standing by the table, eating the rest of the cheese from the previous night. The pack of cheerful spaniels wriggled at their feet.
“Where is Rolf?” I asked.
“He and Father are out checking the wheat fields,” Kai answered. He took in the sight of my dress and hair and seemed slightly taken aback, but not displeased.
Sebastian, on the other hand, frowned in open disapproval. “Good gods, what are you wearing?”
I ignored the question.
Kai took a long drink of ale.
“Is that your breakfast?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “It’ll do.”
I shook my head. “No. It won’t.”
First things first though. The two women who’d brought this food the night before now came in seeking to gather the trays. Apparently, it was not unusual to leave such things all night. My mother would never have stood for such slovenly neglect. I turned to the women.
“What are your names?”
One was short and plump, the other tall and spindly. They both looked at my dress and hair in some confusion, and I suddenly realized why Miriam had been on the verge of arguing. I hardly appeared as the lady of the house.
“I’m Betty,” the plump one answered. “And this is Matilda . . . my lady.”
I nodded. “I want this hall swept out, and then I want the floor scrubbed. I want all the cobwebs swept down, and I want the walls prepared for tapestries.”
They both stared at me as if they’d not heard correctly, but Sebastian’s face went still. “Tapestries?”
“Yes. Mother sent four tapestries from storage in the manor.”
My family might be impoverished as far as ready money, but we had an endless supply of possessions. Had my father been able to sell any of it, he might have saved me the indignity of this marriage, but he’d not dared. Once a great family begins quietly selling off heirlooms, their financial need becomes public knowledge no matter how hard they try to keep the secret.
So, my parents might have taken a good deal of money from Jarrod Volodane, but to help save face regarding my dowry, they’d sent vases, dishes, goblets, paintings, casks of wine from my grandfather’s day, boxes of tea, and tapestries. If anyone asked Jarrod about my dowry, he would have a ready answer.
My father’s sense of family honor knew no bounds.
Still, my answer delighted Sebastian. “Tapestries!” he exclaimed, smiling.
Kai said nothing, but he wasn’t really given time as Sebastian turned to Betty and Matilda. “You heard your new lady.”
My orders seemed to have struck the women as bizarre. Still, upon Sebastian’s urging, they sprang into action.
“I’ll get the brooms,” Matilda said.
With the cleaning of the hall underway, I looked again at the remnants of breakfast and sighed. “I suppose I’d better go and sort out the kitchen.”
Sebastian stepped closer with his expression shifting to concern. “Shall I come with you? I fear the women in the kitchen are not as biddable as Betty and Matilda.”
With every fiber of my being, I wanted to jump at his offer. The thought of Sebastian’s support was beyond tempting. It had been easy enough to order the cleaning of the hall. But the knot in my stomach returned at the thought of sorting out menus with women who would most likely resent me.
Two things stopped me from accepting his help. First, he was not my husband, and even though Rolf wasn’t here, I felt it might be unwise to show too much dependence on Sebastian. And second, Kai was watching me carefully again. I remembered his challenge from the night before.
I needed to show him that I could manage this house myself. I needed to show them all.
“Thank you,” I told Sebastian, “but I can speak to the cooks.”
“Suit yourself, but don’t say you weren’t warned.”
He did not inspire more confidence. Turning, I left the main hall and was promptly embarrassed when I had to ask Betty directions to the kitchen. She was helpful enough and pointed down a passage leading west.
“All the way to the end, my lady. You’ll see the entrance on the right and a door leading outside to the gardens straight ahead.”
I thanked her and headed onward. Her words about the gardens caused me to alter my plans briefly. In all honesty, I’d not been expecting gardens, even though it was summer. This place didn’t seem well run enough for anyone to have been placed in charge of a kitchen garden.
As I reached the end of the passage, I saw the open entrance to the kitchen, but instead of turning right, I stepped outside into the morning air. Though overcast, thankfully, it was not raining, and a bit of sun peeked through the clouds.
To my astonishment, I found myself looking at a large square of well-tended vegetables: potatoes, carrots, onions, cabbages, peas, and beans. Beyond it was an herb garden, and beyond that was a strawberry patch. Looking to the right, I saw a thriving chicken coop with fat hens pecking at the ground. There must be eggs.
I could hardly believe my eyes. Why hadn’t any of this been served to the lords of the hall since my arrival?
A man in his early thirties, with a bent back, was on his knees in the herb garden. I approached him with quick steps.
“Good morning,” I said, admiring his work. “What lovely herbs. Your parsley looks especially fine.”
He blinked in surprise and confusion, as if wondering who I was.
“Forgive me,” I said awkwardly. “I am the new lady here. I have married Rolf.”
Blushing wildly, the man stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. “My lady, I had no idea that . . . no one told me.”
His own embarrassment somehow eased mine, and I smiled. “You are the gardener here?”
Of course, this was obvious, but it gave him a chance to nod. “Yes, I am Patrick.”
I smiled again. “Well, you’re quite skilled, and I shall mention this to my husband. But first I want to see what is being done with these vegetables in the kitchens.”
He blushed again as I turned away.
Having seen this abundance of readily
available food, my curiosity over what I would find in the kitchen only grew.
I reentered the keep and walked through the open archway into the kitchen, and there I found three women among the ovens and pots and pans. One of them, the eldest, was quietly kneading bread on a table. She was slender with graying hair pulled back in a bun.
The other two women were barely past twenty, and they sat at a smaller, second table laughing and chatting with each other over mugs of steaming tea and plates of scrambled eggs with strawberries on the side.
At the sight of this, all my nervousness fled, and when I thought on what Sebastian and Kai, young lords of the keep, had eaten for their own breakfast, anger rose inside me. How would my mother have handled this?
The woman making bread saw me first and froze. Then the other two looked up. One of them was strikingly pretty with black hair, pale skin, and a charming smatter of freckles. The other one was somewhat stocky with reddish hair pulled back at the nape of her neck.
The guilt washing over that second one’s face let me know these women were not ignorant of my presence as Patrick had been. They knew of my existence and my arrival.
However, the pretty one expressed no guilt whatsoever. She nearly sneered at me as she took in my dress and my hair. The mild regret I’d felt upon greeting Betty and Matilda was nothing in comparison to what I felt now. I should have listened to Miriam. I should have donned the muslin gown and earrings and let her pile up my hair.
“What do you want?” the pretty girl said in open contempt.
“Lavonia!” the older woman gasped, but the redhead took her cue from the one called Lavonia and crossed her arms sullenly.
The elder woman admonished the second girl, “And Cora. This is your new lady.”
I stared only at Lavonia. Though I’d never found myself in a situation like this before, I instinctively knew I was being tested, and I couldn’t show an ounce of weakness. Reaching inside myself, I channeled the cold strength and imperious nature of my mother.
“What do I want?” I repeated in my mother’s haughty voice and was rewarded by seeing Cora, the redheaded girl, shrink back in uncertainty. “I came to see why two sons of this house are eating moldy cheese for breakfast.” I let my eyes fall to the eggs and strawberries.
