ASHORT TIME LATER,Robert stared at his master seated in the solar.
“Alfred has gone?” he repeated with a combination of shock, dismay and concern, “and you’ve asked Lady Riona to take charge of the kitchen?”
“Yes,” Nicholas replied, trying to make it sound as if this was something not at all odd or out of the ordinary, although it was certainly both.
Yet what else could he do, with Alfred gone and guests still in Dunkeathe? He needed someone to supervise the kitchen, and it couldn’t be him, or Robert, either. His steward had enough to do without that additional burden. Instead, he’d immediately turned to Riona, as he would ask a trusted comrade to take over command of his men in battle. Perhaps he should have taken more time to think about this decision, but he didn’t regret it.
“I must point out, my lord, that Alfred’s a most excellent cook. I’ve had many compliments on your behalf for the fine table and he keeps a tight rein on the costs and now that he knows you don’t approve of his methods—”
“He beat the spit boy,” Nicholas reiterated, in a tone intended to convey, once and for all, that there would be no second chances after that.
Robert flushed and shuffled his feet. “My lord, if I had known, I assure you, I would have—”
“You knewnothingof what was going on in the kitchen?”
Robert’s blush deepened and he didn’t meet Nicholas’s gaze. “No, I didn’t, my lord, to my shame. I should have paid more heed to the way Alfred was treating his underlings.”
Nicholas nodded. “Yes, you should—and so should I. It should not have fallen to a guest to inform us of Alfred’s brutality. I want you to make it clear, Robert, that from now on, I will not countenance such treatment of any servant in my household, no matter how humble he or she may be.”
“Yes, my lord.” Robert cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, some of the other guests might wonder about this, um, selection of Lady Riona. They’ll surely think that’s a mark of your favor and take it as a sign of your intention to give her that place permanently, as your wife.”
“Since Lady Riona’s uncle claims she has many years experience in that regard, I thought I would give her a chance to prove it. I’ll also give the other ladies the same opportunity to demonstrate that they’re capable of running my household.”
Robert eyes widened. “As a sort of test, my lord?”
“Exactly.” He rubbed his chin. “And I’ve asked Lady Riona to supervise the preparation of something Marianne’s husband will like. He’s always complaining about Norman dishes.”
Robert looked shocked. “He’s never said a word to me about that, my lord.”
“It’s nothing,” Nicholas said, waving his hand dismissively. “I think Adair enjoys trying to annoy me. If it wasn’t the food, it’d be something else.” Nicholas gave his steward a hint of a smile. “So this time, I’ll provide him with food he should enjoy and see if I’m right.”
A relieved Robert grinned, then sobered. “I do hope Lady Riona’s abilities haven’t been overestimated by her uncle.”
From what he had already seen of her relationship with the servants and even his soldiers, Nicholas didn’t think they had. In some ways, she reminded him of Sir Leonard, who’d trained him after he’d left the vicious Yves’s command. Sir Leonard could drink and wench and tell stories with the men he trained, yet none ever forgot who was the master, and who the student.
He’d never expected to find that quality in a woman.
As for her comments on his methods of training his men, he didn’t need her advice aboutthat.
Yet Sir Leonard sometimes gave out praise. Nicholas particularly remembered one rainy day, when he was cold and wet and miserable and despairing he would ever be able to wield a lance. Sir Leonard had taken him aside and told him that although he would probably never be as good as some of the others—something it had galled him to hear—he was doing better every time.
“You can’t expect to be the best at everything,” Sir Leonard had said. “Settle for being the best at one, and adequate at the others. Your strength is in your sword arm, not aiming a lance or swinging a mace. All you have to do is get your man to the ground, where you can use your sword.” Then he’d givenNicholas one of his rare, sardonic smiles. “Just don’t let your opponent kill you first.”
The door to the solar burst open, and a very irate Lord Chesleigh strode into the room, followed by a scowling Sir Percival and an equally annoyed D’Anglevoix. Audric came last, although he looked less angry and more puzzled than the others.
“Is this true, my lord?” Lord Chesleigh demanded as he came to a halt, arms akimbo, utterly ignoring Robert. “Have you set that woman…that Scot…Fiona or Rianne or whatever her name is…in charge of your household?”
Nicholas rose as courtesy required, yet in a way that should have instantly told Lady Joscelind’s father that his host wasn’t inclined to look with favor on a man who stormed into his solar. Meanwhile, Robert sidled back into a corner.
“Lady Riona is temporarily in charge of my kitchen,” Nicholas replied evenly as he came around his table.
“What, will we have to eat that stuff those Scots make out of oats?” D’Anglevoix asked in his frostiest, most patrician manner. “God, it’s perfectly vile.”
Lord Chesleigh shot the man a disgusted look. “It’s not the food we’re here to discuss,” he snapped. “Am I to understand by this, my lord, that you’ve made your choice for your bride?”
“Yes, have you picked?” Percival seconded, looking far from pleased.
“No, I have not,” Nicholas replied. “Lady Riona had a confrontation with my cook over his management of theservants, with the result that the cook has left Dunkeathe. I needed someone to take charge of my kitchen, and for now, it’s going to be Lady Riona. After that, the other ladies will take their turn.”
