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“Is that all of us, then?” Aimee asked with interest.

“The maid of all work did not show up,” Golda answered sounding chagrined. “We will just have to make do with Unwin for now.”

Aimee nodded and firstly set Matthews to carry up her two wedding chests. “They are to go into the two largest bedchambers on the third floor. One for each room.”

Golda bristled at this. “You will surely be wanting both of those in your room, milady!” she protested.

“One for each room,” Aimee insisted. “One for my husband’s room and one for my own.”

“Do ye have a preference as to which one?” Matthews asked, scratching his head.

Aimee glanced from the lavish decoration of the bridal procession to the one of succulent fruits. “It is of no matter, for I like them both. Then I want these two matching chairs with the carved arms to go in his lordship’s chamber along with this studded trunk.” She moved from each group of stacked furniture directing where in the house they were going to go. The simple wooden benches were for the kitchen. The highbacked chairs with the rush inserted seats were for the dining chamber. The seats with the arched backs were for her own room. Matthews nodded and set about his work at once.

When Golda looked as though to leave them, Aimee forestalled her. “What about your own room, Golda, and the rest of the servants?” she asked. “Is there anything we need to send for?”

“There was a bunch of new palette beds in the attics, milady,” Golda said shaking her head. “We’re adequately provided for.”

“You and Unwin have everything you need? Have you allocated rooms for the rest of the servants?”

Golda nodded. “Ingrid has the small room between her mistresses. Jakeman is up in the attics though he has his own separate room. Stirling and Matthews will have to share.”

“Jakeman?” repeated Aimee. She did not think she had heard that name.

“That is his lordship’s manservant.”

“Oh, I see. And you are happy with the room you have?”

“Oh yes, Miss Aimee,” Golda said relapsing to her former title. “Most happy. I’m tucked in the farthest corner of the third floor. A little room facing the back of the house.”

Aimee nodded. “And Unwin? He will not be nervous up in the attic with all these newcomers?”

Golda hesitated a moment. “Unwin is in with me at the moment,” she said after a slight pause. “He’s a nervous lad and needs his –” she broke off. “My support,” she stressed carefully. “Soon as he’s ready he can go up and join the menfolk, but not before then.”

Aimee was a little surprised that brusque Golda, who had been so fierce to defend the boundaries of her duties as lady’s maid in her father’s house, should now be willing to share her quarters with a former stable lad. She nodded. “I’m sure you know what is best,” she murmured.

Aimee returned to the Great Hall and drank a cup of ale before she climbed the stair again to the third floor. As she reached the top step, Matthews came out of Lord Kentigern’s room and nodded to her. “I’ll fetch the other trunk now, milady,” he said and started down the stairs. Aimee took a deep breath and walked into her husband’s bedchamber.

Matthews had set the handsome wedding chest under the window, and glancing about the room, Aimee saw the bed had been straightened and the wash basin emptied out of the window. She wondered if that was the handiwork of the elusive Jakeman, for somehow, she could not imagine her husband tarrying to tidy his bedclothes after he had arisen.

Thoughtfully, she made her way over to the chest and unfastened it to start unpacking all of the purchases she had made for her married life. She spent a good hour unpacking only the first of the trunks. At the very bottom, she found the particolored gown she’d had commissioned using the colors of Lord Kentigern’s crest.

The robe was formed of sections of alternate blue and yellow satin with the portcullis motif emblazoned right across the chest. Aimee admired the garment prodigiously, though when she had declared she would wear it to watch her husband compete, her sister had looked at her a little askance.

“It’s just that – the daughter of an earl can wear something that will not draw even a murmur whereas the daughter of a merchant …” Ursula had let her words trail off, and Aimee had shrugged off the comment. Very likely the gesture did lack subtlety, but Ursula was so reserved and Aimee, quite frankly, was not. Aimee added the gown to the pile of things designated for her own room.

The very last item in the trunk was a gift for her groom, a doublet of burgundy brocade studded and decorated with velvet covered buttons. She laid this on the large scarlet bed for him to see and then closed the trunk and made her way to her own room, carrying her pile of things. On arrival, she found the second trunk had been placed at the foot of her bed and set about unpacking it at once.

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of Matthews and another man with the first of the large carved cabinets she requested for her chamber. This must be the cook, Stirling, she realized. She directed them to the spot she wanted it set down in, and they shuffled off to fetch the second one. Aimee found the small velvet pouch she had been looking for which she had rolled up in the toe of one of her stockings.

She did not open the drawstring bag, but instead went on her tiptoes and secreted it into a small hidden recess in the top of the wooden cabinet. A master craftsman had made the piece of wood that fitted into place so well that the join was scarcely discernible to the eye. Indeed, even the grain of the wood seemed a perfect match.

She had no sooner sealed up the hidey-hole, then she heard a soft scratching on the door. “Come in,” she called out, and Unwin’s head peered around the door. “Good morning, Unwin.” She smiled at the boy. “What have you there?” He came carefully into the room, balancing a tray against his hip. “Is that for me?”

When he stood mute in the doorway, she gestured toward a small table, and he set the small jug of ale and dish of fresh figs and nuts down there. “Thank you, that looks delicious.” Unwin gave a hurried bow and scurried from the room under Aimee’s rueful gaze. She would just have to trust that Golda was right and give the boy time, she supposed. The same way that she needed to with her husband.

10

The sun had long set by the time Konrad left the practice field. He ran a damp cloth over his face and neck before pulling his jerkin on over his shirt. He glanced over at Jakeman who had already started packing up his discarded armor.