Slowly, Stuart turned. When he looked at her, he was smiling. “Congratulations, Della.” He kissed her cheek.
Della felt like she was between two snarling wolves in search of a meal and she was the hapless rabbit who crossed their paths.
“Thank you, Stuart.” Della took a step away from both men. “With your permission, Lord Blackwell, I will tell Isa of our guests.”
Brant stiffly nodded, but didn’t take his gaze off Stuart.
* * * * *
Strathfeld’s kitchen was quiet as Isa cleaned the cutting table with a brush and bucket of hot water. The servant had sent the maids to other chores, as was her custom, preferring to be alone right before the hassle of the eve meal. Going to the spit that hung over the blazing fire, she turned the last of the roasted chickens. Then, wiping her hands on her apron, she checked the baking bread.
“Isa, we have more guests.” Della’s heart pounded wildly as she looked at the servant.
Isa’s round face turned red. The cook poked her finger at Della. “I daresay that is thrice this last fortnight I have been called upon to cook fer guests. Before yer husband got here, we ne’er had guests more than once a year. It was fine by me like that. Now, I’m expected to cook fer the king’s whole army.”
“It is my cousin, Sir Stuart, Isa,” Della knew what the cook meant. They’d been plagued with many guests. “Please see that the best mead is brought to the tables.”
Isa shook her head in warning. “Yer brewing trouble, m’lady, and I well know when things are brewing.”
“What do you mean?” Della asked in surprise. Isa was one of the oldest fixtures in the castle and had grown to believe that gave her the right to freely voice her opinion to anyone. Usually Della found she didn’t mind, but today the woman’s words grated against her nerves.
“Do not think Lord Blackwell doesn’t know of yer desire to marry yer cousin instead of him. The whole castle knows of how you two have been fighting since the day you met.” Isa turned back to the fire. Lifting her apron, she grabbed a hot loaf and tossed it on the newly cleaned table. Continuing this way until all the loaves were out, she spoke, “It’s not well done of you to treat yer cousin so royally in front of yer husband. M’lord is not likely to approve.”
“I’m not treating Stuart like royalty. All I said is to put the best mead out.” Taken aback, she ran her fingers over one of the loaves. Was the whole manor really talking about them?
“Yea, first it’s the best mead. Next you will be saying to put out the best meat and to use the best herbs from the garden.” Isa shook her head. “Then you will find yerself catering more to Stuart than you do yer own husband. You are brewing trouble is all I am saying.”
Della bit her lip. She’d been about to request the best herbs for the chicken Isa was preparing. Removing her hand from where it hovered over the hot bread, she studied her fingernails thoughtfully. “Nay. Just the mead, Isa.”
Della quickly left the intuitive old cook. Brant and she had been prone to their fights, but mostly they kept them private. Then, touching her cheek, she fingered the slight scrape that was still there.
Well, perchance, we have not been as discreet as we should’ve been, Della admitted to herself. Did the manor really know about her first deception? Did they know that she had been checked for that deception? She shivered in embarrassment. Foolishly, she’d convinced herself no one would find out.
As she walked into the hall, a maid passed by her with the mead she’d ordered. Her husband and cousin had already found their way to the high table, accompanied by Roldan and Gunther. Roldan had sat at the high table with her father only to be moved down when her husband arrived. She was glad to see him back at his old place of honor.
Recoiling inwardly at the sight of their strained faces, she stopped. Even Roldan frowned disapprovingly at Stuart and she’d thought the knight liked her cousin. The maid stepped up to the table, setting goblets before the men. Brant’s face was stiff as he watched Stuart in unveiled mistrust. Deciding she didn’t want to face them in an empty hall, she turned to go back into the kitchen. She ignored Isa’s knowing chuckle as she scurried through the side door into the garden.
Taking a deep breath once outside, her chest heaving with apprehension, she smelled the potent herbs of the garden. She hurried around the castle, ducking into a secluded corner along the outside wall. No one would be able to tell she was there unless they specifically looked.
Della needed time to sort her thoughts. She saw how well Stuart had taken the news of her marriage. Had he not told her often when they were children that he didn’t want the title of ealdorman? He’d only been willing to marry her because she hadn’t wanted to marry at all and neither had he. In fact, Della was sure it had been she who had first mentioned the idea to Stuart.