Lord Strathfeld grumbled under his breath about meddling women, but said nothing. He turned toward the door leading to the bailey yard. “I will meet you and your men at the stone bridge outside the gate, Lord Blackwell.”
Her intended waited until the ealdorman was well from earshot. Then, turning slowly, he scowled. Della forced herself to meet his hard expression.
“Would you like to explain that comment, m’lady?” Brant’s fists were tight at his sides.
“There is naught to explain, m’lord. It’s just an observation that someone is not pleased with our match.” She gave him an innocent look and his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Or that someone wants to make the match appear more necessary than it is.”
“Methinks m’lady would do well to watch her tongue,” Brant warned, “lest I be tempted to watch it for her.”
She snapped her mouth shut, but her eyes shot icy thorns in his direction.
“Gunther, stay close in the event your services are needed,” Brant ordered, “and keep Lady Della company. Make sure she stays out of mischief.”
It is not I who needs the watching, you miserable boor.
Della clenched her teeth, but said nothing. She hated to admit that even now she wanted to touch him. The fact only served to enrage her more.
Gunther nodded. It was obvious he didn’t look forward to the task of playing nursemaid to a sharp-tongued woman. Brant stormed off, following her father out into the bailey.
“M’lady, if I may offer some advice?” Gunther asked.
Della turned her icy stare to him. “Yea?”
“It’s not wise of you to be too public in yer dislike of my lord. He is a generous man, but methinks you test yer limits too boldly.” Gunther smiled at her. “It would be too bad if he were to make public his example of you.”
“And if I may?” Della smiled back. She tried to stay angry, but couldn’t in light of Gunther’s puerile charm. The man had a way about him, even if he was part Norse. By the look of him, he had some Anglo-Saxon blood in him as well.
“Yea, m’lady.” Gunther nodded in mock seriousness.
“It’s not wise of you to take the attentions of too many maids at once. They are not likely to enjoy the competing. Methinks you test your limits too boldly.”
Gunther’s eyes rounded in obvious surprise at her astuteness and he laughed. “Yea, m’lady, mayhap you are right.”
* * * * *
Della spent the day showing Gunther the grounds and introducing him to the people who worked them. As the soon-to-be seneschal, he needed to know how things were expected to run. She didn’t want Lord Blackwell to think he could change their highly effective system once he was ealdorman. Della had worked too many hours to perfect it.
Besides, to her delight, she found out that Gunther was indeed only half Viking. His other half was Welsh and not at all offensive. She turned to smile at him as they passed the blacksmith’s workshop.
“Old Alston has been blacksmith here since before I was born.” She nodded to the man who turned a brilliant piece of metal over the hot coals. His hands were deftly precise, even in leather gloves. Behind him a large stove burned, making a wave of intense heat come from the half-enclosed building.
“M’lady.” Alston waved hurriedly before turning back to his work.
“How is your throat?” She gestured with her hands to illustrate what she asked. “Have you been taking the honey?”
The old man nodded and waved to her with a smile.
She turned back to Gunther. “Poor Alston had a bad throat and could not talk for a fortnight. Finally, the midwife said to make him take two spoonfuls of honey a day until his voice came back. I don’t know if it helped, but his voice did eventually start to come back.” She again walked. “Oh, that man there, the one with the absurd covering on his head. That’s Boothe. He’s in charge of the stables and fancies himself an inventor of clothing, thus the headdress. The man he is talking to is Lamar. Lamar is the groundskeeper. Lamar’s twin brother, Lamont, works in the kitchen with Isa. Lamar and Isa are married.”
Gunther stopped, a look of widespread amusement on his face.
“What?” She put her fists defensively on her hips.
“It’s remarkable how you know everyone and how they are connected. I know some ladies who do not even know the names of the servants who wake them in the morning.”
“I have no respect for those women. I love the people who work here and would die for any one of them.” She refused to be embarrassed by her convictions. “And, methinks, they would die for me.”
“And Rab?”