How to Train Your Knight: A Medieval Romance Novel
Page 16
“Would you like to visit his kiln? I keep it well hidden. I can ask the new stable master to get our horses ready.”
“Another time.” Sitting back on a stone warmed by the sun, he shook his head. A glassmaker, with a sister who teaches knife fighting in the middle of the forest. The people his wife attracted into their town was amazing.
Clearing his throat, he patted the stone next to him. “Sit, sit. I’d ask a favor of you, before you take your leave.”
“Anything at all.” Stephano put bread into a bag for carrying and perched on the edge of the stone wall, ready for flight.
“Would you be able to construct another window, the likes of what James has in the abbey?” He pointed to the window in the church and grinned.
“Of course. But it is quite a feat to recreate. The sand alone, to import—”
“I’d not have it take much of your time, maybe only several pieces each season.”
Stephano nodded but peered closely, as if looking for signs of madness. “At that rate, it could take mayhap a lifetime or even more.”
He winked. “Tis for the bishop. Once he’s done with his penance.”
Ann giggled, grabbed his arm tightly, and plopped down next to him on his stone. He was pleased she’d worn the yellow tunic again, along with the rescued ribbon. They’d come a long way since that day. He put his arm around her waist, tugged her close, and kissed her in front of all. “And one more thing.”
“Si?” Stephano eyed the two of them with obvious interest.
“From now on, you will have your sister come to the manor for my wife’s special lessons instead of deep in the forest.”
“You know?” His eyes widened while Ann jumped up off his lap and turned in a joyful dance.
Kneeling upon one knee, Stephano said, “Sir, I must apologize. But your lady, she insisted.”
Marcus lifted the young man off the ground. “Worry not. I’m beginning to understand why a lady might need to have such fighting skills and I insist it continue. I’ll pay you well. Where is your talented sister?”
“Her life has not been easy, so she prefers the quiet in the trees, but we can try to convince her, for Lady Ann’s sake, to leave on occasion. I must take my leave now. Grazie. For everything.” He bowed elegantly and strode away on the road that led into the forest.
Ann watched him depart deep in thought. “He comes infrequently and his walk is long. Mayhap we can send a horse for Christina on our lesson days?”
Marcus nodded. “Of course.”
A thick slice of dark bread, slathered with jam from her hand was his reward. A grand smile crossed her face and he smiled back. When they were in harmony, a bit of heaven settled within him.
She motioned for some women of the town to join them. These were the spinsters who worked the wheels. He’d already met the weavers, the dyers, and the shearers. Then there were the bathhouse men, and all sorts of people who worked the wool into cloth. Whenever he met someone, Ann explained their chores in detail as if she could perform the tasks herself.
“Are all your people tradesmen?” He’d listened to another exhaustive explanation about wool and was ready for a nap.
“Aye, It depends on what you call a trade, does it not? The men who grew grain, in my father’s time, were indentured to the land. I freed them to call them grain tradesmen and I have meat tradesmen who take care of the pigs and chickens. It’s wonderful, is it not? Fifteen years ago, I had a handful of starving serfs to feed. Now, look. Our town is wonderful and growing. I’ve even had people move here from London.”
“Do they ever leave?”
Her lips pursed just a bit, her brow furrowed, then she beamed brightly. “I suppose they could if they wanted. But they don’t. I make sure their goods are well sold and we all make profit and eat well. Your father and the king are happy with the taxes we pay.”
He smiled back. He was doing a lot of that lately. “Did you hear of the peasants rising against their masters in other regions? Is that why you tried this new way?”
She shook her head and black curls fell across her face. She tucked some back into the net. “No, not at all. What has happened?”
Odd. The woman had come to all sorts of rightful conclusions based on nothing, but the love of her people. “There are places where serfs live in huts made of only mud and straw. Whips are taken to their backs. Starvation is the norm. The livestock is better fed.”
“How awful. Why?”
He took her hand, indicating they should start their daily walk. “Greed, I would guess. Think of what motives your father had, and I suppose you have your answer.”
“Oh. So there are places where these people fight the landowners? Do they succeed?”
“Nay and it’s pitiful to behold. What you’ve built here is miraculous and I’m going to have my hands full trying to keep it safe. For the love of God, even Edward would need to send Stephano back, if word got out. Come, show me more.”
She led him down the main road, waved to men stirring the wool, and they waved back. “Well, you’ve already seen the looms, I hope the new ones come soon. And there’s my vat. And you met our candle maker. Fine of you to teach him about the beeswax. We’ve never seen the like and of bees we have plenty. In that home lives Jeb the carver. My door? He did that. He got tired of churches, though I never understood why, and neither did the Holy Father. Now, he only cuts scenes of nature.”
They wandered past several more stone houses. Most had thatched roofs, but some had tile. She pointed to one home where stacks of brown wares were piled high. “Pottery is made there. We have several kilns and there are women in the village that paint colorful flowers upon them. The brick maker is over there, and well, of course you’ve met the blacksmith. Did you know his swords are almost famous?”
One long building loomed ahead with a newly thatched roof. “And there? Widow spinsters. They enjoy each other’s company while they work the wheels. If you enter, be prepared to spend an afternoon, for their tales are as long as their yarn.”
The town still overwhelmed him. He’d seen similar in Italy, but never in England, in the middle of nowhere. “When next, do you take your wares for selling?”
She did a little jig, unable to contain her excitement. “We take our wares to fair at the next full moon.”
He held her shoulders to stay her from bouncing away. “That’s only ten days hence. I may have a better suggestion. What say we go to London, on the following moon, instead?”
“London?” Her eyes went wide and she gave him the best of smiles and a hug that almost toppled him. “Oh, that would be grand. We could do that? But we still have so much to do. Could you come with me to the dye vats? I want to show you. We need your men to watch the children in the fields. They’re going to gather blue flowers in the north.”
Good Lord. He tried not to shout. Had she forgotten everything that had just happened? “They can’t, remember? No one is to go near the land that borders Abernathy’s.”
“But that’s where the blue flowers are abundant. Please? With those monies, we can do much good.” She kissed the frown off his mouth and he gave her a grin. For once, she waited on his approval and it should be rewarded.
“I’ll send my men.” He leaned over to kiss her nose.
“To pick flowers, my Lord? Surely they will balk.” She raised an eyebrow.
The look she’d borrowed from him was an excellent mockery. He couldn’t help, but laugh. “I’ll tell them it’s for sword practice. Not to come back until they have a wagon full of blue heads. That will be my proof they’ve practiced.”
“Oh, yes, that’ll be wonderful. You’ve the best ideas.” She clapped her hands, reached behind his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss.
“I’ve one more good idea. I’ve invited my brother, his wife, and family to come for a visit.” He held his breath while waiting for her response.
Like the sun ducking behind a cloud, her face darkened. “The earl? When?”
“Oh, no. I wanted to do this right. I need to prepare the manor. This is so important. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She swatted him on the chest, then brought her injured fingers back into her mouth with a painful mew.
He raised them to his lips and kissed them. “Don’t worry, so. All will be well.”
“They have children, right?” She tugged on his hand and rushed back toward the manor, huffing, already out of breath.
“Let me think. This and this.” He stopped and indicated their heights with palm down.
“Oh, very helpful. Boys or girls?”
“Nephews.” He picked up his stride to catch her while waving at Peter at the forge.
“Will they share a room?”
“How would I know, dearest?”
“Our manor is quite full. Can we ask two of your men to move to the abbey?” She lifted her skirts so she could walk even faster.
“Ann, Ann, Ann. Do what you like. It’ll all be well by me.”
“Anon. I need to get busy.” When they arrived at the green, she waved her arms at him as if he were a sheep. “Shoo … shoo … Away with you. See to the tradesmen. See what they need to finish their wares. I’ll tend to the house.”
He grinned. “So now you trust me?”
“You’ve given me no choice. Shoo.”
He laughed once more and turned to leave, but not before he spun his wife into his arms and off her feet. “Wife, you make me complete.”
She turned and smiled. “Aye, it’s like that, is it not?”
Chapter 15
By the time she heard the clomping of multiple horses, she’d worked herself into a panic. What if they didn’t like her, or her manor, or her food? What if the bedrooms were not to their liking? Marcus’ brother was eldest son to a powerful earl. The slightest misspeak and she could be cast out. She smoothed a non-existent wrinkle from the fine wool blanket one last time. She’d let them have the best room of the house.
Marcus shouted from the courtyard, “Ann, dearest, they’re almost here. Come down now so we can greet them together.”
“Coming.” She ran down the great staircase, tripped on her gown, and landed ungracefully on her derriere. “Damnation.”
When she looked across the room, the earl and his wife stood at the double door with their mouths agape. Thankfully, Marcus snorting out a laugh, strode to her rescue, and helped her to stand. With his back to his family, he winked at her, took her hand, and led her to their guests.
“Ann, wife, please meet my older brother, Anthony, future Earl of Thornhill and his wife, Penelope. The boys are Bartholomew and Arthur.”
The two boys bowed gracefully at the waist and said in unison, “Very pleased to meet you.”
She brushed the dust off her tunic and curtsied back. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.” Turning to Anthony and Penelope, she curtsied again. “Thank you for coming to visit with us.”
“We’re very happy to meet the woman who has tamed The Beast.” His brother’s eyes twinkled. Mayhap this visit would not fare so badly after all.
“Give me just a moment, I’ll see to the men.” Marcus bowed briefly and went outside. With the door open, he directed Charles to care for the horses. Then he greeted the armed knights by their given names.
She couldn’t think of anything clever to say so she smiled at the earl-to-be and shrugged at the silence that ensued. The two brothers resembled each other, but she much preferred her husband’s lean muscular form to his brother’s soft, wide girth. Truth be told, she also preferred her beast’s plain tunic and sword as compared to the opulence displayed by the man who stood in front of her. The gold jeweled belt that tied under his large form seemed out of place here in the country as did the jeweled cloak and fine feathered hat.
Anthony grew impatient, slid his large frame between tables, and leaned out the door. “I’m sure the men can see to themselves.” He turned to her. “He always wants to make right with the servants. Odd are the ways he learned while away in the East.”
“Those knights are your servants?” She peered out the door. They didn’t look any different than their armed men. Mayhap a bit smaller.
“Aye, of course. They belong to me.”
“That’s odd.” She’d never thought of the knights that traveled with her husband as belonging to him. Apparently, neither did he as he joked and made ease with them.
Penelope gushed into the awkward silence from where she stood by the hearth and gazed at the wool tapestries. “What a beautiful manor. I’ve never seen such a building. It rivals the Thornhill manor, does it not? Prithee, take us through it.”
Anthony held a palm up and raised an eyebrow, thoroughly resembling Marcus. “Mayhap the Lady Ann could provide us a moment to clean and freshen up?”
“Oh, of course. Please forgive me.” Before Anns could say more, Stephen, dressed to the hilt in silks and the finest wool, appeared like magic out of the kitchen.
“This way, Lord Thornhill, Lady Penelope, and gentlemen.” He strolled by her with his nose in the air, turned, and winked.
Marcus reentered, slid beside her, and rested his heavy arm upon her shoulder. She exhaled a sigh of relief when the family turned at the top of the stairs and out of sight.
“They don’t bite. They’re just used to things running a bit differently.”
Keeping her voice lowered, she said, “You schooled Stephen on how to behave with them?”
“Aye, I might have.” He squeezed her shoulder.
Ann squirmed out from under him, climbed two stairs so as to meet him eye to eye and kissed him. His lips curled up under her tight lock and tiny wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. “Thank you.”
He chortled, put his hands to her waist, and lifted her back to the ground. “I prefer your ways, wife. Especially if I’m to be rewarded so well.”
All week long, she’d focused on the manor. The mosaic floor shined beneath their feet because her husband had insisted thatch was unnecessary. He said that people merely needed to refrain from throwing food upon the floor. Barbaric, was the term he’d used. It took some getting used to. Now, every grain of mud showed upon the small white tiles. Soon, she’d need to declare a tradesman of floor cleaning. “Did you prepare the rest of the staff, too?”
“I may have instructed them a bit.”
“Oh, dear. Are we that backward?” She sat down on the stairs with a pout. She’d tried so hard to get everything perfect.
“I prefer forward. Our way is the future.”
“I didn’t know your brother would bring so many knights with him. I may not have enough pallets prepared.” She glanced nervously out the door.
Outside, Thomas was instructing men hither and yon, but glanced into the great room constantly. She could see that the extra knights made him nervous in a completely different manner.
“They won’t expect their own rooms. My brother would have them house with the servants.”
“That’s just it. We don’t have servant’s quarters, we have barracks.” She stood almost in tears, but the corners of her husband’s eyes were still creased with amusement. When had those little wrinkles become the norm?
“Stop fretting. I’ve already asked Thomas to have my men double up with my brother’s men. That will work for all. There’s plenty of room and plenty of food.”
“When did you get so good at being Lord of the Manor?” The great room really was magnificent, now that the thatch had been removed. She’d never really paid attention to the intricate tiled swirls that he’d insisted upon showing.
He held out his arm gallantly and spoke with an aristocratic voice, “Come wife, prithee sit by the fire while we wait for our guests to attend us.”
She giggled, picked up her needlework, and turned it around and around to find her place. Had it been weeks since she’d last sat by the fire and
worked the tapestry? Her finest bone needle still held her husband’s blood and she shuddered. How her life had changed since that day.
After sitting, Marcus pulled a knife from under his leggings and worked on the steel’s edges with a nearby whetting stone.
“Should I do the same?” She glanced up from a hopeless knot in her tapestry work and put it down. Her knife work was far superior to her art with a needle.
He feigned to be horrified and winked. “See that you don’t.”
When the earl and his family descended the staircase, she popped out of her chair to greet them. “Is all well? Do you need anything else?”
“Oh, please. Would you show us around?” Penelope looked to her husband as a child would to her father. The boys squirmed and eyed the outside with longing.
She tried not to roll her eyes. The girl was young, mayhap not even ten and seven. “Of course. We could start with the baths? They are most unusual, built at the time the ancient Romans lived here.”
The boys groaned. Obviously that wasn’t their choice of amusement. Penelope seemed not to notice. She stomped her feet and put her lower lip out in a pout. “You’ve baths? You didn’t tell me that. I, for one, would love to not only see them, but to use them. Are their servants to warm them? At home, by the time the water is heated and poured, the water is all, but chilled again.”
Ann smiled. “Not to worry. The Romans who built this manor desired the same. There is a central fireplace that heats the rocks under the baths and warms the waters. Come. The schedule is free right now. We could even have our husbands join us. Meanwhile, mayhap Thomas could take the boys into town? There’s much to see.”
Marcus nodded with a wink and tossed each of the boys a coin. “Behave yourselves.”
The boys were out of the main room in the blink of an eye. Thomas’ muffled commands for the two to slow down sounded from out the front door.
“So, to the baths for you ladies?” Marcus’ eyes roved over her body. The man was impossible. He had, but one thought on his mind constantly. That spot between her legs twitched and dampened, and she wanted all guests to disappear so they could attempt baby-making again.