by Sakwa, Kim
“Thank you, the both of you. I never imagined…” When she couldn’t finish, Isabelle wrapped her arm around her shoulders.
“Don’t cry, Gwendolyn. Greylen will come home soon.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just…I’m acting foolish.” She really wanted to tell Isabelle that she missed Greylen, but she couldn’t, not in front of Gavin.
“Come, ladies, back to the chamber. ’Tis still an hour or so before we can break our fast.” Gavin’s order was soft, though he looked at neither of them.
Gwen knew something had happened when she went in the library. He had no trouble speaking to them directly before. “Why don’t I make breakfast for us?” Gwen offered. “I love to cook and I’m starving.”
“If you’re hungry, lady, I can wake Anna.”
“You’ll do no such thing, Gavin, I’m perfectly capable. And that woman deserves her rest. Besides, cooking makes me feel better, and trust me, I need to cook right now.” Concerned for Isabelle, Gwen turned to her. “Isabelle, you seem awfully quiet, are you all right?”
“Aye, Gwendolyn, I’m fine,” Isabelle assured her, then looked at Gavin. “Gwen’s right, Gavin. There’s no reason to wake Anna, and I’m hungry as well.”
The look Gavin gave Isabelle was frightening. It was almost devoid of expression save the intensity of his eyes and a slight tic that marred his cheek, most likely from clenching his teeth so tightly. Gwen could almost feel his anger. She knew she could fix the situation if she could just get them into the kitchen.
“Gavin?” Gwen prompted sweetly.
“Aye, lady?” He sounded as if he knew he would not like what she was about to ask.
“Didn’t you tell me that I was to have anything I so desire per your laird’s instructions?” She had him now, and he knew it. Gavin gave her the same look he’d just given Isabelle, and it took all of her courage to defy him. “Come on, Isabelle, show me the kitchen,” Gwen said, holding out her hand and leaving Gavin no choice but to follow them.
They continued down the hallway, then walked through the swinging doors at the end. “Oh my God,” Gwen exclaimed, “this kitchen is fabulous.” She turned to them. “What would you like for breakfast?” she asked. “I can make omelets, French toast, pancakes,” then she added with less enthusiasm, “I suppose oatmeal, if that’s what you’d like.”
“What’s an omelet, Gwendolyn?” Isabelle asked.
“Do you like eggs?”
“Aye, we have them all the time.”
Isabelle sounded bored with her reply, and Gwen set her straight immediately. “An omelet is made with eggs, but filled with potatoes, cheese, onions, and ham.”
“That sounds delicious,” Isabelle exclaimed, her eyes bright once again.
“Well, what do you say, Gavin?” Gwen asked, turning to him. “You game?” Damn, he was tough, his face was completely expressionless.
“I’ll leave it to the two of you,” he answered. He walked away and sat at the large table on the right side of the room.
“Fine, just sit, Gavin. Isabelle and I will make you a meal you’ll never forget.” Hoping to give Gavin a few minutes alone, Gwen asked, “Okay, Isabelle, help me gather the ingredients?”
“The pantry’s on the left, and the cellar’s below,” Isabelle explained as she walked to the door and opened it.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves were filled with all kinds of foods: spices, nuts, dried fruits, and an assortment of canisters that Gwen began to open. There was flour, sugar, oats, and things that she had no idea as to what they were. There were large burlap sacks on the floor, and she opened those next. She hoped her curiosity wasn’t obnoxious, but she just couldn’t seem to help herself. The first sack she opened had potatoes in it, and she took out two, handing them to Isabelle. She looked in the one next to it and found onions. Gwen jumped up and down again. “This is great, you have everything we need.”
She already knew they had eggs and cheese, and the only thing missing now was some bacon or ham. She came out of the pantry intent to bring Gavin out of his stupor. “Gavin, is there any meat we can use?” she asked. He raised a brow but remained quiet.
Gwen tried again. “Something like bacon or ham. You know smoked meat, from a pig.” Gwen made an oinking noise, and he finally smiled, shaking his head as he stood.
“Aye, lady, we’ve smoked meat—from a pig.”
He walked past her, and she followed him. He picked up the wooden door built within the floor of the pantry, then proceeded to go down the steps to the cellar.
Gwen went back to opening sacks while Isabelle waited patiently by the door. There was one pushed far into the corner and Gwen pulled it out. She screamed happily when she saw what was inside.
Gavin came up, meat in hand. “Good God, lady. Your screams have probably awoken the entire holding.”
“Gwendolyn, what is it?” Isabelle asked.
“What is it you ask? It happens to be coffee, and I can’t live without it.” She danced around in a circle, smelling the beans she held in her hands. She had coffee!
“It came on our last shipment,” Gavin explained, “but we’d no idea of its use. Though it smelled wonderful, all of Cook’s attempts left us…let’s say, very unsatisfied.”
Gavin seemed to be easing into a better mood much to Gwen’s relief. “Gavin, you’re in for a real treat.” She smiled, and then frowned when she looked at his hands. “Where are the eggs?” she asked. Didn’t he remember they were making an omelet?
“I forgot.” He sighed, giving her the small slab of meat.
“Thanks,” she called behind him before adding, “We need cheese, too, that soft orange one we had yesterday would be great.” Gwen smiled at Isabelle. “Come on, let’s get started.”
They placed the items on the large island in the center of the kitchen. An enormous wood-burning stove ran along the back wall. It had two separate surfaces on top, one that looked like a large griddle while the other had various-size burners. There was a large fireplace, as well, with iron handles and rings set within the sides that she supposed were for roasting.
Figuring she had a couple minutes, Gwen took Isabelle by the shoulders. “What happened, Isabelle? Everything seemed fine when I went in the library, but when I came out, everything had obviously changed.”
“Gwen, h-he…” A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and Gwen wiped it away.
“Tell me, Isabelle, I won’t break your confidence, I just want to help.”
Isabelle tried again, this time whispering her words. “He held me, Gwendolyn. He pulled me against him, and we rested along the wall. My back was pressed to his chest and his arms held my waist. I could feel his head, Gwendolyn, it leaned on mine. We remained that way the entire time you were in the library.”
Gwen’s heart went out to her. “Oh, Isabelle, I’m sorry. Gavin probably feels guilty. He’ll come around, just give it some time.” Their conversation came to a quick stop when they heard Gavin close the cellar door. They busied themselves cleaning vegetables.
Beautiful wooden cabinets lined the walls, and Isabelle showed Gwen where the dishes and utensils were kept. For such an imposing room, it was just as charming as the rest of the house, especially the island where they stood. It only needed flowers. Then it would be perfect. There were three sinks, too, and each had a water pump and a drain.
They had plumbing after all.
After a while, the silence became deafening and Gwen had had enough. She wanted to enjoy her time with Gavin and Isabelle, and that’s just what she intended to do. “Gavin, would you light the stove for me and put some stools around the island?” she asked. “That table’s too big for just the three of us.”
Gavin quietly went about the duties that she asked of him, and Gwen turned to Isabelle next. “Isabelle, why don’t you set the table, but find a fry pan and a small boiling pot first.”
&nbs
p; “She’s bossy isn’t she, Bella?” Gavin asked with a soft smile.
“Aye, Gavin, she is,” Isabelle replied with a cautious smile herself. “But we are going to keep her.”
“Aye, Bella,” he answered, returning her smile. “We are.”
Their exchange hit Gwen so hard she almost cut herself. They were in love with each other. Deeply in love. Gavin obviously had a reason for keeping his distance. But Gwen was determined to find out what it was. Then she would put an end to it.
Thinking of how to approach him when she had the chance, Gwen put the fry pan on the stove and added the meat she’d cut into small pieces. She walked to the cabinets again, digging around. “Yes!”
“What have you found now, lady?” Gavin asked dryly.
“A new job for you,” she answered with a smile. She handed him the bowl and pestle, then scooped some coffee beans from the canister she’d placed them in earlier. “Not too fine, Gavin,” she instructed, “or we’ll be drinking mud.”
Gwen went back to the stove, adding diced potatoes and onions to the pan. Then she boiled water for the coffee.
“Isabelle, will you find some teacups and grab the sugar, too, please?”
“She’s bossier than I ever imagined, Gavin.” Isabelle laughed.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Gwen said defensively, “we’re almost done, and I promise you’ll be happy. Gavin, we need one more thing, please.”
“Aye, lady, what else can I get for you,” he muttered with a sigh. “I swear, next time you’re hungry, you’re waiting for Cook or Anna.”
Gwen was relieved that his normal tone was back now. “The last thing we need is cream for the coffee,” she promised. Then she added the ground coffee to the boiling water and the eggs to the fry pan. When the eggs set, she added some cheese and turned her attention back to the coffee. She placed a cloth over each mug and carefully poured the liquid through. She wanted their first coffee experience to be a good one—coffee addicts liked company.
Gwen went back to the stove and folded the huge omelet before cutting it in three pieces, the one in the center larger. Then, using a towel, she brought the pan to the island and served the largest piece to Gavin.
“Isabelle should be served first, lady,” Gavin instructed softly.
“I’m sure that would be appropriate, Gavin. But you didn’t sleep last night and you deserve a good meal.” With her free hand she reached out and held his chin. “I expect you to relieve yourself after breakfast,” she ordered.
If Gavin seemed humbled by Gwen’s display, then Isabelle’s expression could only be described as shock, but her words explained their reaction. “Gwendolyn, you sound just like my brother.” She laughed. “Not that Greylen would have shown any tenderness with such a command. More the like, he’d have knocked Gavin to the ground with his demand.” Gwen smiled at her explanation, then Isabelle asked, “Should we say grace?”
“I have a better idea, but first we have to add sugar and cream to our coffee and pray that it tastes good,” she said, laughing. Then Gwen did something she always wanted to do. And it was the perfect opportunity to bring Isabelle and Gavin closer together.
She held out her hands and smiled as they took them. Gwen explained that they would take turns stating something they were grateful for, and she offered to start. She was having more fun with them than they would ever know. Especially since Gavin and Isabelle had entwined their fingers, instead of just clasping their hands as they did with hers. Progress. Definite progress.
“I’m thankful I have both of you. You’ve each helped me so much, and I’ll treasure whatever time we have together.” Gwen’s tone was very upbeat, hoping they’d play along. “Okay, Isabelle, it’s your turn.”
Isabelle stole a quick look at Gavin before turning back to Gwen. “I’m thankful you’re here, Gwendolyn. This has been the most wonderful morn I’ve ever had.”
Gwen squeezed Isabelle’s hand and noticed, from the corner of her eye, Gavin did the same. “Okay, Gavin, your turn.” She expected a fight and was surprised when he answered quickly.
“First, allow me to explain something, Lady Gwendolyn, and I will try my best not to suck at it. Your time here is infinite. I swear it on my life,” he said emphatically. “Now, as to something I am thankful for…I am thankful this torture is almost over, for I truly believe that you can cook.”
“I’ll cook for you whenever you’d like.” Gwen grinned as she reached for her coffee. Then she closed her eyes and moaned as the warm liquid slid down her throat. When she opened them again, Gavin and Isabelle were both staring at her like she’d lost her mind.
“Go on.” She waved her hand. “I dare you both to try it and not like it as much.”
Gavin took a small sip, then more as his eyes widened in surprise. “Lady Gwendolyn, first thing this morn, you’re to show Cook how you made this.”
“I told you,” Gwen returned. “Now try your omelet.”
They devoured their omelets, and Gavin and Gwen each had another cup of coffee after their meals. Together they cleared their dishes and placed them in the sink. But when Gwen tried to wash them, Gavin threatened to sit on her again, telling her that she’d done enough already.
The sun had just started to rise as Gavin hurried them upstairs. Since they were still in their nightclothes—or Greylen’s, in her case—she could tell Gavin hoped to avoid being seen by any servants who might be starting their duties.
When they stepped inside Greylen’s chamber, Isabelle told Gwen she was going to dress and would meet her in the great hall. Gavin quickly excused himself and followed after her.
The halls were still dark with just the soft flicker from the sconces, and he caught Isabelle just as she reached the steps of the landing. “Bella, wait,” he whispered, reaching for her arm. She looked up, her blue eyes wary and so disconcerting in their depth.
“I’m sorry I upset you earlier. ’Twas never my intention. I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have touched you, Isabelle. ’Twas wrong and I seek your forgiveness.” He felt as though his honor was at stake and hers as well.
Earlier when Isabelle had started to follow Gwen into the library, he’d pulled her back. He’d reached around her waist with one arm while closing the doors behind Gwendolyn with the other. “Gavin, why—” Her words stopped when her back came to rest against his chest.
“Shh, Isabelle,” he’d whispered in her ear. “Allow Gwendolyn to see this herself.”
He hadn’t said more and assumed Isabelle would have allowed Gwendolyn to live the rest of her days in the library, so long as he didn’t make her move.
He didn’t.
Isabelle didn’t ask him what had changed his inhibition toward her, and neither spoke of it then. Gavin kept backing up and pulling her with him until his body rested against the wall. His arms wrapped around her waist as she leaned against him and he gathered her even closer. They stood facing the library doors. He had closed his eyes, and sensed Isabelle had done the same. They had remained that way the entire time, silently enjoying the embrace that each of them had only dreamed of.
“You owe me no apology, Gavin,” she whispered, bringing him out of his reverie while continuing to stare at him.
“I can offer you nothing, Bella.” He all but choked on the words.
She reached for the lock of hair that had fallen to the side of his face, stroking it between her fingers before brushing it back. “You’ve more value than you know, Gavin,” she whispered.
Then she turned and walked slowly back to her room.
As adjustments go, it could’ve been a lot worse.
But truthfully, it wasn’t that bad.
Gwen found a place among Greylen’s family in the long days that followed. She fell easily into a routine and truly enjoyed herself in this place she now called her home. And though she battled endlessly with Gavin, she was grateful for the bond
they had formed.
She awoke early every morning and later had breakfast in the great hall with Isabelle and Lady Madelyn. She acquainted herself with Greylen’s men-at-arms and though she liked them all, it was Gavin with whom she felt most comfortable. After that first night he’d stayed in her chamber, as it was now referred to, he changed his rotation of duties. He slept after dawn and saw to his duties in the afternoon. Then he would resume her guard after their evening meal.
No one ever mentioned that she, Isabelle, or Gavin ate lightly at supper. For now, they enjoyed the habit of sneaking to the kitchen when everyone retired. Gwen made wonderful meals late every night, and they sat around the center island of the kitchen, always holding hands before speaking of something that they were thankful for.
She hadn’t seen Gavin approach Isabelle again. Instead he stole looks at her when he thought no one watched. Sometimes when they retired to Gwen’s chamber, she and Gavin would sit by the fire and talk quietly, while other times they didn’t speak at all. Gwen knew they relished the time they spent together, each it seemed for different reasons. Yet there seemed no mistaking they shared a common bond: contentedness.
During the day, Gwen spent time with Lady Madelyn, and walked along the paths throughout the holding and those around the keep. She visited the chapel, as well, and Greylen’s men always gave her privacy to seek her solace alone. She met Father Michael and liked him at once. He was a wise man, old in years, and he often prayed with her. They spoke of the loneliness she’d felt with her family. The happiness she found in what she now assumed as her home. And Father Michael continued to assure her that if she was true to her heart, God’s plan could only follow.
She almost laughed in his face the first time he’d said it. But she hoped he was right. She loved it here. She loved Isabelle, Lady Madelyn, Anna, and Gavin. And she loved Seagrave and all of its people. She’d finally found a home, a place where she belonged.