“Of course, my lady,” Miriam answered, pushing up her sleeves.
And so, with that, I headed out of the room, down the passage, and down the curving stairs of the tower. I had an aging keep to try and put in order, and it seemed only sensible to begin in the filthy main hall.
The first things I saw upon entering were Sebastian and Kai, standing by the table, eating the rest of the cheese from the previous night. The pack of cheerful spaniels wriggled at their feet.
“Where is Rolf?” I asked.
“He and Father are out checking the wheat fields,” Kai answered. He took in the sight of my dress and hair and seemed slightly taken aback, but not displeased.
Sebastian, on the other hand, frowned in open disapproval. “Good gods, what are you wearing?”
I ignored the question.
Kai took a long drink of ale.
“Is that your breakfast?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “It’ll do.”
I shook my head. “No. It won’t.”
First things first though. The two women who’d brought this food the night before now came in seeking to gather the trays. Apparently, it was not unusual to leave such things all night. My mother would never have stood for such slovenly neglect. I turned to the women.
“What are your names?”
One was short and plump, the other tall and spindly. They both looked at my dress and hair in some confusion, and I suddenly realized why Miriam had been on the verge of arguing. I hardly appeared as the lady of the house.
“I’m Betty,” the plump one answered. “And this is Matilda . . . my lady.”
I nodded. “I want this hall swept out, and then I want the floor scrubbed. I want all the cobwebs swept down, and I want the walls prepared for tapestries.”
They both stared at me as if they’d not heard correctly, but Sebastian’s face went still. “Tapestries?”
“Yes. Mother sent four tapestries from storage in the manor.”
My family might be impoverished as far as ready money, but we had an endless supply of possessions. Had my father been able to sell any of it, he might have saved me the indignity of this marriage, but he’d not dared. Once a great family begins quietly selling off heirlooms, their financial need becomes public knowledge no matter how hard they try to keep the secret.
So, my parents might have taken a good deal of money from Jarrod Volodane, but to help save face regarding my dowry, they’d sent vases, dishes, goblets, paintings, casks of wine from my grandfather’s day, boxes of tea, and tapestries. If anyone asked Jarrod about my dowry, he would have a ready answer.
My father’s sense of family honor knew no bounds.
Still, my answer delighted Sebastian. “Tapestries!” he exclaimed, smiling.
Kai said nothing, but he wasn’t really given time as Sebastian turned to Betty and Matilda. “You heard your new lady.”
My orders seemed to have struck the women as bizarre. Still, upon Sebastian’s urging, they sprang into action.
“I’ll get the brooms,” Matilda said.
With the cleaning of the hall underway, I looked again at the remnants of breakfast and sighed. “I suppose I’d better go and sort out the kitchen.”
Sebastian stepped closer with his expression shifting to concern. “Shall I come with you? I fear the women in the kitchen are not as biddable as Betty and Matilda.”
With every fiber of my being, I wanted to jump at his offer. The thought of Sebastian’s support was beyond tempting. It had been easy enough to order the cleaning of the hall. But the knot in my stomach returned at the thought of sorting out menus with women who would most likely resent me.
Two things stopped me from accepting his help. First, he was not my husband, and even though Rolf wasn’t here, I felt it might be unwise to show too much dependence on Sebastian. And second, Kai was watching me carefully again. I remembered his challenge from the night before.
I needed to show him that I could manage this house myself. I needed to show them all.
“Thank you,” I told Sebastian, “but I can speak to the cooks.”
“Suit yourself, but don’t say you weren’t warned.”
He did not inspire more confidence. Turning, I left the main hall and was promptly embarrassed when I had to ask Betty directions to the kitchen. She was helpful enough and pointed down a passage leading west.
“All the way to the end, my lady. You’ll see the entrance on the right and a door leading outside to the gardens straight ahead.”
I thanked her and headed onward. Her words about the gardens caused me to alter my plans briefly. In all honesty, I’d not been expecting gardens, even though it was summer. This place didn’t seem well run enough for anyone to have been placed in charge of a kitchen garden.
As I reached the end of the passage, I saw the open entrance to the kitchen, but instead of turning right, I stepped outside into the morning air. Though overcast, thankfully, it was not raining, and a bit of sun peeked through the clouds.
To my astonishment, I found myself looking at a large square of well-tended vegetables: potatoes, carrots, onions, cabbages, peas, and beans. Beyond it was an herb garden, and beyond that was a strawberry patch. Looking to the right, I saw a thriving chicken coop with fat hens pecking at the ground. There must be eggs.
I could hardly believe my eyes. Why hadn’t any of this been served to the lords of the hall since my arrival?
A man in his early thirties, with a bent back, was on his knees in the herb garden. I approached him with quick steps.
“Good morning,” I said, admiring his work. “What lovely herbs. Your parsley looks especially fine.”
He blinked in surprise and confusion, as if wondering who I was.
“Forgive me,” I said awkwardly. “I am the new lady here. I have married Rolf.”
Blushing wildly, the man stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. “My lady, I had no idea that . . . no one told me.”
His own embarrassment somehow eased mine, and I smiled. “You are the gardener here?”
Of course, this was obvious, but it gave him a chance to nod. “Yes, I am Patrick.”
I smiled again. “Well, you’re quite skilled, and I shall mention this to my husband. But first I want to see what is being done with these vegetables in the kitchens.”
He blushed again as I turned away.
Having seen this abundance of readily available food, my curiosity over what I would find in the kitchen only grew.
I reentered the keep and walked through the open archway into the kitchen, and there I found three women among the ovens and pots and pans. One of them, the eldest, was quietly kneading bread on a table. She was slender with graying hair pulled back in a bun.
The other two women were barely past twenty, and they sat at a smaller, second table laughing and chatting with each other over mugs of steaming tea and plates of scrambled eggs with strawberries on the side.