Chapter Fifteen #4
Brooke approached. “You cannot be disrespectful to me any longer,” she came to a halt in front of the younger brother. “My husband would be most displeased if he knew how mean you were to me.”
Edgar’s face turned red. “I wasn’t mean to you.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You will address me as Lady Aston. That’s my name.”
His cheeks grew redder. “Lady Aston,” he repeated.
Brooke studied him closely for any sign of insubordination. “You are indeed very mean to me. I have no idea why you treat me so badly. I have only been nice to you and have even shared my treats with you.”
Norman looked away and rolled his eyes. Brooke was taunting Edgar; he could see it and he had to do something before Edgar exploded and Sir Dallas came down on both of them. He turned back to the pair.
“Lady Aston,” he addressed her correctly. “We have work to do, if you don’t mind. I would beg your leave.”
Brooke’s gaze lingered on Edgar a moment longer before looking to Norman. “You may go, Norman. But I want Edgar to stay here and help the cooks.”
“What?” both boys blurted. Then Norman spoke quickly. “My lady, Edgar has a good deal of work awaiting him in the stables. It is his duty to feed and water the chargers.”
Brooke’s stubborn streak took hold. “I need him here to help in the kitchens. You can handle the chargers by yourself, Norman. As lady of the keep, I demand it.”
Norman didn’t know what to say. God help them, she was the lady of the keep. He looked at his brother, still red in the face. He did not want to think on what would happen were he not there to act as a buffer between Brooke and Edgar.
“Edgar is not a kitchen servant, my lady,” he said, hoping she would see his point. “He’ll probably burn the keep down if you try to force him. He wouldn’t know what to do.”
“But I wish it. We need the help. Go away now, Norman.”
He sighed reluctantly. “Very well, Lady Aston.”
Brooke watched Norman walk away. She looked back to Edgar, who had his head down. A fiendish sense of pleasure swept her to think that he was now in her power.
“Come along, Edgar,” she said, turning back into the kitchens. “You have much work to do.”
“Like what?” Edgar blurted. “I am not a kitchen servant. I would not know the first thing about working in a kitchen.”
She frowned at him. “You are going to learn.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Edgar came to a halt, glaring hatefully at Brooke. “You cannot order me around. I serve Sir Braxton. In fact, I do not have to listen to you at all.”
Brooke’s mouth pressed into an angry flat line. “You do too have to listen to me. I am the Lady of Erith. My husband is Sir Dallas and if you do not do as I tell you, then I will tell him that you are insubordinate and need to be whipped.”
Edgar shook his fist at her. “Go ahead. You are nothing but a skinny, ugly girl that Sir Dallas was forced to marry. I’ll bet he hates you already!”
Brooke’s mouth popped open in outrage. “How dare you say that to me!”
“It’s true! Just look at him and see how much he hates being married to you!”
Brooke charged him; it was inevitable. Edgar dodged out of the way and she smacked into the cutting table, bruising her wrist. But she would not let Edgar get away. As he barreled out of the kitchen, she barreled out right on his heels.
Edgar was well acquainted with running from Brooke. He’d been making a career out of it over the past few days. His ankle was sore from his fall in Milnthorpe but worked well enough. He would make sure to step in no more rabbit holes.
Edgar tore a wild path out of the kitchen yards and out towards the stables.
His arms and legs were pumping so fast that they were in danger of getting all tangled up.
Brooke screeched after him, her skirts hiked up around her knees as she ran.
Edgar looked over his shoulder to see that she was gaining ground and he ran faster.
Out into the main ward he ran, flying like the wind with Brooke hot on his tail.
He roared through the destroyed entry as some of Braxton’s men were working on the crumbling portcullis, heading out to the road beyond. Brooke roared after him.
The men working on the crumbling wall and destroyed gate watched curiously.
Braxton, his head bent over a section of the wall that was particularly shattered, heard the distant hollering and looked up just in time to see Edgar shoot from the ward and out onto the road with Brooke right behind him. He shook his head and sighed heavily.
“Dallas,” he called.
Dallas’ dusty blond head suddenly popped up from a mound of rubble; he had been inspecting the foundation of this particular section of wall.
He looked at Braxton, who pointed to the two running figures moving down the road.
Dallas’ eyes widened briefly before he muttered a curse.
Then he leapt from the hole he had been standing in and bellowed for a mount.
Someone brought about a horse just as Norman ran past. Dallas vaulted onto the animal’s bare back.
“Norman,” he shouted as he gathered the reins. “What is going on?”
Norman paused long enough to look at the knight. “Last I heard, Lady Brooke was ordering Edgar to work in the kitchens. He must have disobeyed her.”
Dallas cursed again and spurred the horse after his wife.
Norman, without a horse, was much slower.
Galloping down the road, Dallas caught up to Brooke about a half mile from the castle.
She was still running as fast as she could.
Edgar, however, had slowed considerably.
Dallas reached his wife about the time she was nearly on Edgar. He grabbed her by an arm.
“Stop,” he shouted, sliding from the horse before it even came to a halt. He had Brooke with both hands. “What in the world are you doing?”
Brooke’s pretty face was flushed and she was panting heavily. “He… he called me ugly and skinny. He must be punished!”
Dallas still had hold of his wife as he turned to Edgar, now lying in an exhausted heap in the grass several feet away. “Edgar!” he bellowed.
The lad shot to his feet and weaved a weary path back towards the knight. He, too, was flushed and panting. “My lord?”
Dallas’ expression was hard. “Did you call my wife ugly and skinny?”
Edgar’s weary expression was replaced by a fearful one. “I…I….”
“Speak up, boy.”
Edgar’s gaze moved between Dallas and Brooke. He finally lowered his head. “Aye, my lord, I did.”
“He said that you were miserable because you had married me,” Brooke wanted to get Edgar in trouble. But half way through her statement, she burst into tears. “He said you hated me.”
Dallas looked at his wife with some concern before turning back to Edgar. “Is this true?”
“Aye, my lord,” Edgar mumbled.
“I see,” Dallas’ eyes narrowed. “Have you anything to say in your defense before I dispense your punishment?”
Edgar was still looking at the ground. “She… she wanted to make me a kitchen servant, my lord, even though I had to tend to the chargers. That is my job. She told me that she was the Lady of Erith now and I had to do what she said. But Sir Braxton is my liege. I only do what Sir Braxton tells me.”
Dallas looked at Brooke, wiping tears off her cheeks. “Did you order him to tend the kitchens?”
After a brief hesitation, she nodded. Dallas’ grip loosened and he let her go, his attention moving back and forth between his wife and the young squire. He sighed heavily and scratched his dusty head.
“I am not entirely sure why you two seem so intent on harassing each other, but it is going to stop here and now,” his voice was low, threatening. “Brooke, Edgar is indeed Braxton’s squire and you may not order him about. He answers to Braxton alone. Is that clear?”
Rebuked, she kept her gaze averted but nodded her head.
Dallas looked at Edgar. “And you,” he addressed him.
“I will hear of no more insults dealt to Lady Aston. She is my wife and your words are slanderous. She is neither skinny nor even remotely ugly, and as for my being unhappy that I married her, I will tell you now that I am quite satisfied. If I hear of you calling her any more names or harassing her in any way, I will blister your backside. Is that understood?”
Edgar’s head was also still lowered but he nodded firmly.
Dallas put his hands on his hips. “Now go,” he ordered quietly.
“Take this horse with you. Tend all of the chargers and when you are done, you can clean out their stalls and make sure they have fresh bedding. Then you can clean my armor and Sir Braxton’s armor until it shines.
I want to see my face in it come morning. ”
“Aye, my lord.”
Edgar fled back towards the castle under Norman’s silent escort. Dallas and Brooke were left standing alone, Brooke wiping at the remainder of her tears as Dallas turned his attention to her. His expression softened.
“You will leave Edgar alone,” he said quietly. “No more fighting with him. It is beneath you.”
She nodded, wiping daintily at her nose. Dallas took pity on her and took her hand, gently tucking it into the crook of his elbow as they began their walk back to the castle. Brooke remained silent but for an occasional sniffle.
“Did you hear what I told him?” Dallas asked quietly.
She looked at him, her expression guarded. “What do you mean?”
He met her gaze. “That I am satisfied with this marriage.”
She hiccupped. “Are you really?”
His lips twitched with a smile. “I am. So do not let his words upset you so. He couldn’t be more wrong.”
She smiled timidly. “Are you sure?”
Dallas returned her smile and took her in his arms, gazing down into her lovely young face.
His eyes were intense as he studied her, thinking her to be a beautiful creature indeed.
His soft kiss was met by a powerful response as Brooke threw her arms around his neck.
He reacted by squeezing her so hard that she gasped. He laughed low in his throat.
“I hope this means that you are growing to like my kiss,” he said as he released her.
She nodded, breathless. “Do it again.”
He did, with pleasure. When Braxton looked out to the road to see what was keeping Dallas, he saw the passionate embrace in the distance. With a grin, he turned back to the crumbling wall.