Regretfully, the maids still scrubbed the hall floor. They were almost finished with their task, and had even started to place fresh rushes over parts of the stone. A maid passed with a bucket and Della reached out to stop her. The woman’s nose was red and she rubbed it on her sleeve as she looked expectantly at her mistress. “Mary, have the others finish the stairs and the hall as quickly as possible, but leave off the walls until the guests leave.”
The maid curtsied, but did not speak. Della turned her attention back to Rab.
“Get you to the stables. Help Boothe with the horses.” She gave Rab a gentle shove. “Mayhap some of the king’s knights will be out there and the other boys might want to meet the ealdorman’s new page.”
“Yea, m’lady.” His face brightened.
“I promise to tell you what happens tonight.”
Rab smiled and ran from the kitchen to do her bidding. Della watched him scurry off before turning to the men. She wondered if she should wait to be called, but curiosity got the better of her as she made her way across the hall to her husband.
“King Guthrum begs me to present you with this before we did so much as drink.” An older gentleman with a lazy eye handed over a rolled missive to Brant. “He bid you to read it immediately and make your mark.”
Della nodded in approval to several of the maids working industrially as she passed. Then, turning her full attention to her husband, she forced a pleasant smile on her face. Brant frowned as he slowly unrolled the missive. Knitting his brows in concentration, he narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the document for a long moment.
The men shifted uncomfortably as her husband stared at the parchment. Della made her way closer, noting the grim set of determination on her husband’s face. The man with the lazy eye looked at his dark friend in amusement.
He cannot read! Della realized with sudden insight. Though it was not unusual for Vikings to be illiterate, having no real written language of their own beyond a few scribbles, she found the revelation surprising. Brant had appeared educated and capable. He spoke like a gentleman, though his heathen accent thickened his words. And, although she had tried to find it otherwise, he appeared to be quite capable of making the decisions of his title.
Oh, nay. They are mocking him! Della frowned, instantly becoming protective as a jeering expression alighted on the little man’s face.
Della rushed forward, mindless of her uninvited interruption, desperate to save Brant from the inevitable humiliation. Again, she forgot her displeasure over her marriage as she went to his aid. Her heart beat with a familiar ache as she tapped his arm gently.
“M’lord husband.” Della smiled prettily as she looked at the two men. Threading her arm over Brant’s to draw his concentration away from the missive, she squeezed it insistently.
“Yea?” he said, clearly baffled by her attention. For a moment, the entirety of the hall faded into the clearness of his gaze. She found the slight curve of his smile and she couldn’t keep the blush from heating her features as her lashes swept over her eyes.
“I don’t believe I have been introduced.” Della glanced expectantly at the two men. She gave them all a sweet smile.
Brant didn’t answer at first and she worried that he wouldn’t indulge her request. A man like him would probably think it was curiosity in their guests which caused her to ask. Della had to admit, that was part of her motivation, but mostly she wanted to save her husband from humiliation. As if finally deciding there was no harm in her meeting the king’s ambassadors, he cleared his throat. Presenting her hand to the first man, he said, “M’lady, may I present Lord Aurick of Lester.”
Lord Lester was the condescending man with the lazy eye. She gave him a simple smile, all the time cursing him in her mind. He might have looked like a noble in his new, padded green tunic with the gold stitching, but he smelled like rotted cream. Della suddenly appreciated all the bizarre morning rituals she’d witnessed from the Vikings. They cleaned themselves daily and changed their clothing often.
How could I have thought they were the smelly ones? She tried not to gag as the nobleman’s breath hit her face. She would wager that Lord Lester hadn’t bathed in well over a fortnight.
“M’lady,” Lord Lester squeaked in a high, nasally voice, as his cold fingers firmly grasped her hand. He rubbed his thumb inappropriately on her palm and she hid her revulsion as he kissed her hand. Opening his mouth, he pressed his greasy lips to her flesh. She shivered in disgust and Lester smiled at her reaction. Brant didn’t notice as he looked over the missive.
Della waited for Lester to drop her hand. As he righted himself, the nobleman watched her through veiled eyes, but didn’t let go. Jerking back from his lecherous grasp, she offered her hand to the second man. Lester frowned. Brant smiled in approval. Della ignored them both.