She ran her fingers through her hairand plaited it into one long braid as she walked to the kitchens,then removed her work apron and smoothed her skirt and stood forBerta’s inspection.
“Take the platters ofbread and cheeses first,” Berta ordered as the kitchen maidscarried the roasted pheasants in.“Then the squash and green beansand the cold ham while I carve the pheasant.”
Lara picked up a platter of freshbaked rye breads and herbed cheeses, squared her shoulders, andstepped into the dining hall.Count Nithard and his son anddaughter sat to the captain’s right, and the count’s men-at-armsmingled in amongst the garrisoned soldiers.She carried the platterover and stepped between Phillipe and Tree.They sat across fromthe captain, and she set the platter down before dipping her headto the captain, the ranking host of the meal, and bit down on agrin at the wary expression on his face.He looked worried aboutwhat she might do or say in front of the count and his company.Pressing her lips tight, Lara meekly dropped her gaze to her hands,stepped away from the table, and turned for thekitchens.
“I see you tamed yourvixenlidi,Guiscard,” Ranulf said loudly, though only his father sat betweenhim and the captain.“Well done.”
“I see your mannershaven’t improved one bit, Midered,” the captain answered as Laramade the kitchen door and pushed through it.
“The snake,” she hissed asthe door shut behind her.Then it opened again as Enid blewin.
“That wasn’t a very goodstart to the meal.”Enid shook her head.
Berta paused her carving knife andfork over the pheasant.“What happened?”
“The captain and Ranulfwere at each other over Lara from almost the moment she walked in,”Enid told her mother, who tsked at Lara.
“Excuse me.”Lara set herhands on her hips.“But wasn’t I the one bowing and scraping?Wasn’t I the one insulted by Ranulf?”
“And wasn’t it the captainwho took Ranulf to task for it?”Enid challenged.
“It isn’t my fault thecaptain despises Ranulf,” Lara said.“In fact, it shows his goodsense.”
Berta set down her knife and fork andput her palm to Lara’s forehead.“Are you feeling all right?Because I’m fairly certain you just said something nice about thecaptain.”
Lara playfully slapped Berta’s handaway.“I could stay here in the kitchens with you, Tante,” shepled, her grin dripping honey.
“No.”Berta picked up thefork and knife.“Now they’ve seen you, they’ll be looking for youand wondering why you stopped serving.”
“You’re right.”Larahuffed.“I should’ve slit Ranulf’s throat that day instead of hischin.I could’ve buried him in the woods, and nobody would’ve everknown.”
“You would have.”Bertapointed the knife tip at Lara.
“Aye, well.”Lara hoisteda platter of cold ham.“I still say it would’ve been worthit.”
Apparently, Nithard had taken controlof his son, because Ranulf kept quiet and only insulted Lara withhis sulking scowl as she set the platter of ham down.Both thecount and his son wore the full Roman robes they’d worn at Mallusand looked rather foppish compared to the captain and his men intheir leggings and jerkins.Lara had never seen the captain in arobe, but assumed he owned one, for he’d been at court with kings,a thing she had to admit intrigued her about him.
That he intrigued Ravenna, who wore abody-skimming gown of red silk with a low-cut bodice, was asobvious as the woman’s preening smiles as she leaned forward toface him and afford him a better view of her charms.That hesteadfastly ignored her smiles and her charms gave truth toPatience’s assertion that Ravenna wasn’t his wildcat, which somehowmade Ranulf’s leers easier for Lara to stomach.
The main course done, the captain andthe count started making their plans for the march to meet Charlesand the returning army.Serving the honeyed berries, Lara heardthem discussing a cook’s wagon.The captain’s company didn’t travelwith one, so the count would have to provide one.
“There is a retiredsoldier the next province over who I’ve heard will hire himself andhis wagon out,” Nithard told the captain.
“One cook for our twentyand your fifteen?”The captain speared a berry.“He’ll need ahelper.”
“Begging your pardon,Captain.”Lara formed a plan as she spoke.“I know of a lad whowould hire out as a cook’s helper to serve out his season ofmilitary duty.”
“Go on,” the captainsaid.
Lara glanced down at the platter ofmeat scraps.“His name is Hamm.He’s the only son of a widowedmother who taught him how to cook.”
“Does he cook as well asyou?”Phillipe asked, and Lara froze, fearing he’d seen rightthrough her crazy plan.Then she remembered how he’d eaten hercooking at her house the past few days.
“Almost,” shesaid.
“Then I say aye,” Phillipetold the captain.“Hire the lad and ease his widowed mother’sworries.”
“You would,” a harsh,hoarse voice rasped.All eyes, all ears, turned to Fulrad, who satat table to sup with the company for the first time since hisinjuries.“You would know,” he rasped louder.“You were up in thecaptain’s chamber with her every night he was gone, tasting hercooking.”He jerked his head toward a horrified Lara.“I seen you.Hell, everyone here seen you following her around by day and goingup to her chamber by night, they’re just too afraid to tell thecaptain.”
