The warmth engendered by Henry’s words of appreciation fled.
“I’m not selling myself.”
Henry replied with aggravating condescension. “Of course you are, just as the women will be. But there’s no need to lose your temper, brother. That’s the way of the world. Goodbye, and good luck.”
AFTERHENRYhad left him, Nicholas again went to the window, hands clasped behind his back. The sun was past midday. Henry would have to ride swiftly if he was to reach Dunbardee. He’d enjoy that. Henry was young and he’d always been reckless—because he could afford to be.Hehadn’t had to pay for their sister’s time in the convent.Hehadn’t had to ensure that his brother had the best training and arms, while he managed with whatever he could afford after their needs were met. Henry had never slept in stables to save the cost of a night’s lodging at an inn, or gone without food.
Henry hadn’t been the one to promise their dying mother he would always look after his brother and sister, a vow he’d willingly made and done his best to keep.
Henry didn’t know that as the years of struggle had passed, Nicholas had vowed to do everything he could to rise in the world, to a place where he’d be rich and respected, safe and secure, where no one could take anything away from him, or threaten him or his family.
With that in mind, he’d trained and fought and won this estate by dint of his skill at arms alone, without the benefit of noble patronage or connections.
Yet even so, that wasn’t enough to rest and be content, not in this world. To hold it, he needed a rich wife from a powerful family.
And, by God, he’d get one.
CHAPTER THREE
JOINING HER UNCLE,Riona came out of the chamber made over to her use while they were in Dunkeathe. Together they were going to the hall to enjoy the special feast in celebration of St. John the Baptist’s Day and, so Uncle Fergus said, to welcome all the guests in fine Norman style.
Since their two small rooms were farthest from the hall, it made more sense to leave the building by the guarded outer door than go along the upper corridor. Riona suspected their rooms were really intended for the body servants of the household or the guests and had been pressed into service because so many had come to Dunkeathe.
The size and location didn’t trouble her a bit. The chambers were more than large enough for herself and Uncle Fergus, and they had the additional virtue of privacy. At home, she shared ateachwith several other women of the household; here, since she had no maid, she had the chamber to herself. Tonight, she wouldn’t have to listen to Maeve snore, or hear Aelean get up to use the chamber pot. She wouldn’t be bothered by Seas and Sile whispering for what seemed an age before they fell asleep. Tonight, she would be blissfully alone, in welcome silence.
“I wonder what they’ll feed us,” Uncle Fergus mused as they strolled through the courtyard. “I’ve heard the Normans drown everything in spicy sauces.”
“I’m sure there’ll be something we’ll like,” Riona assured him as she linked her arm though his.
The air carried a whiff of smoke from the bonfires being kindled in the village to celebrate Midsummer’s Day.
“Aye, I suppose,” her uncle replied. He slid her a wry glance. “I’m also wondering what you’ll think of Sir Nicholas.”
Riona tried not to betray any reaction at all, but she couldn’t subdue a blush. “He’s probably a very impressive soldier.”
“Oh, aye, he’sveryimpressive. A fine fellow.”
Uncle Fergus looked particularly pleased, as if he were contemplating a great secret. Her suspicions aroused, she immediately asked, “Did you meet him?”
And if so, what did Sir Nicholas say to you?
Instead of answering her question, Uncle Fergus ran a studious gaze over her simple dark green woolen dress. “I should have bought you a new gown.”
“This is more than good enough,” she said, smoothing down the gown with her hand. “I’d feel uncomfortable in silk or damask or brocade. Did you meet Sir Nicholas earlier?”
“Something smells good,” Uncle Fergus noted as he pushed open the doors of the hall and ushered her inside, still not answering her question.
Which was momentarily forgotten when Riona entered the magnificent, and crowded, hall. It was easily sixty feet long and thirty feet wide, with a raised dais at the farthest end and pillarsdown its length to support the high roof. Wide beams rested on corbels carved to resemble the heads of various animals. A long table covered in white linen stood on the dais, along with carved chairs. A colorful tapestry hung behind it, and more decorated the walls. The rushes beneath her feet released the odor of rosemary and fleabane.
More than finely dressed nobles filled the room and created the noise. Here, as in the courtyard, what seemed a bevy of servants hurried through the hall, some still setting up tables and covering them with linen, others lighting torches. Hounds wandered about, snuffling at the rushes and looking around expectantly, often in the direction of a door that led to the kitchen, for wonderful odors wafted to her from that direction.
More than once the servants collided, argued and cast annoyed looks at their fellows. A few of the younger servants appeared utterly confused, and had to be pointedly reminded about what they were to do.
There was no woman who seemed to be in any position of authority here, only the steward they’d met at the gate. Standing in the corner near the dais, he looked harried and rather lost. Obviously he wasn’t prepared for this responsibility, or maybe he was overwhelmed by the number of guests.
She could have told him that the tables should have been set up much earlier, with the linens to come shortly before the meal was served. More specific directions would help bring better order to the rest of the activity, and the younger servants should only be entrusted with the most basic of duties.
She wondered how well the kitchen servants were organized, until it occurred to her that none of this was her concern. She was a guest here, like all the other nobles.
