Medieval Ever After (10 page)

“You already have almost one thousand men.”

“Indeed I do, but we had over eight thousand just two days ago. Most of the English commanders have already left and headed for home.”

“True enough,” de Lara rubbed his eyes. “I can send for another five hundred from Carlisle. Henry of Lancaster can send another five hundred. Perhaps you should ask Norfolk to leave a detachment; he is leaving on the morrow, you know.”

“I know. I have already asked him to leave me as many as he believes he can spare.”

They had reached the hall. Stephen opened the door and was hit in the face by the warm, fragrant air inside. It smelled like rushes and roasted meat, and he felt his hunger immediately. Stepping inside, it was a bright and busy world.

The first sight that greeted him was Joselyn, heading towards him from the east side of the room. She was dressed in the cranberry wool, her luscious figure emphasized by the cut of the garment. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face and the pale blue eyes were brilliant. Stephen watched her with appreciation as she smiled and curtsied politely.

“Welcome home, my lord,” she said, glancing to de Lara and bobbing another curtsy. “Lord de Lara.”

Tate acknowledged the lovely woman, grinning at Stephen when the man turned to look at him as if to reaffirm the fact that he had married a truly beautiful lady. Removing his helm, de Lara scratched his head and, still grinning, moved off towards the dais where a huge table of food was spread out.

Stephen didn’t notice that Tate had left; he was entirely focused on his wife. She looked absolutely radiant, a far cry from the cold and dirty creature he had met last night. Sleep, new clothing and an improving relationship with her new husband had worked wonders. He could hardly believe it was the same woman.

Joselyn gazed up at him, feeling the intensity of his stare as if he had reached out and grabbed her. Her cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink.

“I hope the meal pleases you,” she said, sweeping her arm in the direction of the table. “There were virtually no provisions left at the castle and we only had what your men brought in since yesterday.”

Stephen knew that the city of Berwick, including the castle, had basically been starved out during the siege but he made no reference to it. He didn’t want to dampen the mood and there was no point in reiterating what they both knew. So he took her gently by the elbow and escorted her to the heavily-laden table.

“The fare looks quite generous, my lady,” he reassured her.

In fact, he was quite surprised to see all of the food. There were dishes everywhere, things he didn’t even recognize. But he remembered that during that unpleasant encounter last night she had told him that the nuns of Jedburgh had taught her the art of cooking. He had no idea what she meant until this moment. He gestured at the table, somewhat in awe.

“Good Christ,” he couldn’t help the soft exclamation. “Did you do all of this?”

She nodded, somewhat modestly. “Your men brought flour, salt, bags of dried currants and apricots, wine, a few jars of honey, bags of nuts, and slabs of mutton and pork. I did what I could with it.”

He looked at her, stunned. “Surely you had help.”

She shrugged, reaching down for a wooden plate filled with something gooey and sweet-looking. “There were two women that aided me. Berwick has no cook, so the servants take turns.” She lifted the plate. “These are sweet cakes with apricots, nuts and honey. Would you try one?”

He just stared at her. Then, he reached for one of the pastries, realized he had his mail gloves on and paused to rip them both off, tossing them to the bench. He then took one of the pastries and put the entire thing in his mouth. Joselyn watched with trepidation as he chewed a couple of times, stopped, and then resumed at a slower pace.

“Is… is it not to your liking?” she asked timidly.

Stephen chewed a few more times before swallowing. He licked his lips and looked at her. “Lady, that was by far the most marvelous thing I have ever eaten and if you let anyone else have one, I shall be sorely disappointed. I would have them all for myself.”

She grinned brightly and he returned her smile, adding a bold wink with it. In truth, the little cake had been luscious. He gestured at the rest of the table. “What else do we have that is decadent and wonderful?”

Everything was. She had cooked the pork in honey, the mutton in rich gravy, and had a variety of completely fattening breads about the table. The only vegetable they had were carrots, which she had boiled in honey and cloves, the only manner of spice that they had. They were exquisite. Stephen sat down next to his wife and ate until he could hardly move. Even then, there was still more food on the table and he continued to try everything put before him. As the night wore on and de Lara joined them, Stephen was so gorged that he was sure he would become ill.

Tate was no better off. He, too, had eaten himself sick and he finally excused himself as the hour grew very late. As Stephen licked his fingers of the last of the apricot pastries, he watched de Lara wander away to sleep off his overindulgence. Joselyn sat next to her husband, her trencher licked clean of the pork she had stuffed herself with. When Stephen glanced at her, he caught her staring at him and he smiled.

“Lady, if I had not already married you, I would have married you this instant based on the skill of that meal alone,” he said, watching her blush furiously. “Do you mean to tell me that the nuns at Jedburgh taught you to cook like this?”

She shrugged modestly. “My tasks were mostly kitchen-related. One of the nuns was from Paris and she was a wonderful cook. I learned a great deal from her.”

“No doubt,” he replied sincerely. “But tonight was a feast fit for a king and I did not, in fact, see Edward at all this eve.”

“He was here earlier,” she told him. “I heard him tell some of his men that he would be leaving on the morrow.”

Stephen scratched his black head wearily. “I see,” he muttered. “Then I must seek the man out before he leaves.”

Joselyn watched him shove a last pastry into his mouth, hardly able to swallow it because he was so full. She laughed softly at him.

“This will not be the last opportunity for you to eat pastries, my lord,” she told him. “I will make more, I promise.”

He grinned at her, burped loudly, and then rose to his considerable height. “See that you do,” he commanded, but it was lightly done. “My lady, your culinary skill is beyond compare. I have never in my life had such a fine meal and I thank you deeply. I cannot help wonder if this was meant for a special occasion.”

She stood up next to him, so petite against his considerable height that she only came to his diaphragm area. Her smile faded as she groped for words.

“I suppose it is a special occasion,” she ventured. “I wanted to show my gratitude for what you have done for me and for my mother.” Her smile vanished as she looked up at him. “I said terrible things to you last night, my lord. I called you heartless and cold, and clearly that is not the case. What you did for my mother, and for me, goes beyond what I believed you capable of. I am very sorry that I said such horrid things. I hope that someday you will forgive the tongue of a scared, exhausted woman.”

His blue eyes grew warm and a faint smile played on his lips. “There is no need to apologize,” he murmured. “I know it was a difficult night and I further know that I did not make it easier for you. War dictates my behavior, lady. Last night, we were still at war. Today, we are not.”

She smiled gratefully. “You are too forgiving,” she said. “But I thank you just the same. I hope this meal was a worthy token of my gratitude for your kindness.”

Stephen reached up and stroked her tender cheek; he couldn’t help himself. “It is more than worthy,” he said softly. “As are you.”

Joselyn flushed brilliantly and he laughed softly. “You’re still unused to sweet words, are you?” he flirted gently.

She shook her head vigorously and he continued to laugh, taking her by the hand and gently pulling her away from the table. Together, they made their way towards the great hall entry door.

“Well, you had better become used to it,” he told her frankly. “I intend to speak a great many sweet words to you in the days and years to come. Would you like to hear more?”

She was beside herself with embarrassment, but it was of a good sort. She had never in her life known any manner of flirting or interaction with a man, so her experience with such things was nil. Her cheeks were hot and she put her free hand on her face, looking away from him.

“I do not think I can,” she said, muffled by her hand. “If my face grows any warmer I will go up in flame.”

He laughed loudly. “I have not seen a woman go up in flame yet, no matter how flattering the words,” he gazed up into the summer night sky, brilliant with stars. “Let me think. I suppose I could tell you that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, but I believe you already know that.”

She shook her head, hand still against her face. “Nay, I do not.”

He bent over, peering down at her and trying to look at her lowered face as they continued out into the darkened courtyard. The night outside was cool and clear in sharp contrast to the sultry day, bringing some relief from the cloying hall.

“You do not?” he repeated, straightening. “A pity. Then I shall tell you, quite honestly, that your beauty outshines that of any woman I have ever known.”

She peered up at him now that he was not trying to look her in the eye. “How many women have you known?”

He looked down his nose at her. “Only two or three.”

Now it was her turn to laugh at him. “I would not believe that in the least.”

“You would not?”

“Nay,” she said firmly. “Sir Stephen, I am not sure if you realize this, but you are an exceptionally handsome man. I cannot imagine that every woman you have ever come across has not realized that, which leads me to believe that you have known more than two or three woman in your life. You probably have armies of them that follow you around, begging for a lock of your hair or a glimpse of your smile. Am I wrong?”

He suddenly grabbed her and pulled her tight against him, looking around frantically as if he was deeply fearful.

“Dear God,” he breathed. “Now that you know my secret, will you protect me from these ravenous females?”

She laughed. “Not a chance. You must fend them off for yourself.” He looked down at her as if she had just grievously insulted him. She would have believed it, too, had she not seen the smile playing on his lips.

“You are my wife,” he reminded her pointedly. “It is your duty to protect me.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh, very well, you coward,” she pulled away from him, hands on her hips as she looked around the bailey. “Where are they? Well?”

He just stood there and grinned at her. “I seem to have escaped them for now, but have no doubt, they will be back,” he reached out a hand to her. “Until then, shall we retire and hope for the best?”

She laughed softly, placing her small hand in his and allowing him to lead her into the keep. Inside, it was dark and cold as they made their way up the spiral stairs to the second floor. There were two rooms on this floor; a smaller servant’s chamber and then a larger master’s chamber. Joselyn opened the door to the larger chamber and Stephen was surprised as he stepped inside.

At some point while he had been away, she’d had the smaller bed removed and replaced by a larger bed with a rope frame. A mattress sat atop it and he pushed on it, feeling that it was firm with fresh straw. Several coverlets draped over the bed, clean from what he could see, and the room itself had been cleaned and swept free of all dirt and cobwebs. A warm fire burned in the hearth and he turned to look at her curiously.

“Is this the same room you slept in last night?” he asked a question with an obvious answer, simply because it had been so nicely transformed.

Joselyn nodded, smiling at his approval. “I had the smaller bed removed and replaced with a larger one that had been stored in another room,” she told him. “The same women who helped me with the cooking also helped me repair and re-stuff this mattress, and the coverlets were from a chest we found on the fourth floor of the keep. There is a room up there stuffed with all manner of items, things that the last occupant must have left behind. I had some of it brought to this room.”

Stephen looked around to the table she had brought down with two fat tapers burning on top of it. There was a small chest under the lancet window and a pile of thick, pale linen atop the chest. He went over and fingered the material.

“What is this?” he asked.

She motioned to the canopy frame around the bed. “Curtains for the bed,” she replied. “They are old and need to be mended, but I believe they are serviceable.”

He nodded, letting go of the material and inspecting the corner near the edge of the bed. There was a little pallet on the floor, surrounded by rushes. He pointed at it. “What is that?”

She wandered over to see what he was pointing at. “That is for the fawn,” she said. “He was sleeping there this afternoon.”

“Where is it now?”

“In the kitchen with the servants. It is very warm in the kitchen and he seemed to like it better in there.”

“So am I to understand that you now have a pet?”