Chapter Three #3
Adam led her up onto the dais. A massive table was set upon it, full to bursting with food.
The enormous hearth, at least eight feet tall, was directly behind them blasting heat in their direction.
The brothers took their usual places at the table while Matthew took up a seat on Alixandrea’s right side.
Usually he sat at his father’s right, but tonight that privilege was reserved for his future wife.
The introduction of Alixandrea was short and to the point.
There wasn’t much Adam could say that wasn’t already obvious.
Every man in the room was gazing hungrily at her.
Matthew felt like a dog guarding his bone; he could see that this situation could potentially become deadly if he did not establish the rules from the beginning.
“I would add one thing to my father’s introduction of the Lady Alixandrea,” his voice boomed when Adam was finished.
“As you love and respect me, love and respect my wife. Know that she is mine and, as such, will be given all due reverence. Any transgression against her, no matter how small, will be forcefully dealt with. That is my word.”
The men knew Matthew well enough to know exactly what he meant.
He was quite fair and, on occasion, congenial with his men.
He would interact with them where other knights of his stature would never dream of it.
He had been known to roll the dice with them while on campaign and inquire on the health of even the lowliest soldier when warranted.
For that, he was unique and for that, he was very much loved.
He inspired a loyalty that most men could only dream of.
On that note, the meal was brought forth without further delay.
Matthew offered to share his trencher with her before his father could make the suggestion and the old man glared at him.
Matthew glared back. The dogs, having been relatively quiet in the corner of the hall, suddenly came to life as the food came out.
Alixandrea watched the great platters being set forth across the table as Matthew reached out and grabbed the nearest knuckle of beef.
He laid it upon the trencher and handed her a knife. “My lady?”
She turned to look at him, seeing that he was offering her the first of the food. With a smile, she took the knife and cut at the well-browned meat.
“I hope this is to your liking,” Matthew said.
“It looks wonderful,” she pulled off a succulent piece and popped it into her mouth. “It is very good.”
He smiled at her and ripped off his own hunk of beef. But there were more dishes being set down and Alixandrea studied each one with great interest until Matthew took the hint and began pulling all of the dishes across the table.
“This is peacock,” he ripped a browned bird leg off of the body and put it on their plate. “And this,” he tugged at a smaller bird leg, “is waterfowl. Swan.”
She nibbled at the peacock. “Do you always eat this well?”
The corners of his blue eyes crinkled. “Only when we have very special guests.”
Chewing, she watched him with a smile on her lips until he turned to look at her. “I am a guest, am I? I thought I was to be a resident. Was I wrong?”
He lifted his eyebrows as he reached for the wine. “Nay,” he poured some sweet red liquid into her cup. “But your arrival is certainly an occasion.”
“A happy one?” she teased.
“Aye.”
She swallowed her food. Leaning in his direction, she put on her best serious expression. “Are you sure? We are not married yet, after all. I suppose you could still delay the marriage if you had a mind to.”
Thoughts of her supple body silhouetted through the sheer robe by the firelight crossed his mind. “I have no inclination to.”
“Surely?”
He sighed heavily and leaned into her just as she was leaning into him. Their faces were mere inches from each other. As she held a mock serious expression, he matched it.
“You are never going to forgive me for delaying our marriage, are you?”
“Eventually. But not today.”
He could see humor playing in her eyes. “Are you always this vindictive?”
Her eyes narrowed, though it was in good fun. “This is nothing, my lord. You should see me when I am rightly angry.”
“I do not ever wish to see you rightly angry,” he assured her. “And in private conversation, you will call me Matthew. Or Matt. I will answer to whatever you choose.”
A moment of jest had turned into a genuine moment of warmth. “As I will answer to Alixandrea,” she said quietly. “Or wife. I will answer to whatever you feel is appropriate and worthy.”
“Alixandrea is a very long name,” his voice was low; he was enjoying her closeness. “Were you never called anything else? A nickname, perhaps?”
She thought a moment. “My mother used to call me Ali when I was a child. But that was long ago.”
He smiled. She smiled. He could not help himself from reaching up and stroking a finger across her soft cheek. “Ali is for a child,” he murmured. “Alixandrea is for a woman, and a beautiful one at that.”
He might as well have scorched her face, for that was the same effect his finger had upon her flesh.
She could still feel the heat from it and it set her heart to racing.
Their eyes held one another for an eternity of small moments until someone shouted encouragement to Matthew of a personal nature and he broke away, looking out over the room.
To his right a table of his men were shouting at him to kiss his bride.
He waved them off. He did not want their first kiss to be a spectacle.
Alixandrea returned to her fowl. A servant had set a marzipan subtlety in the shape of a little castle near her left hand and she commandeered a slice of it. Off to her right was an almond milk pudding with raspberries and sugared rose petals; she took some of that, too.
Matthew watched her as they ate, smiling when their eyes met.
The wine was particularly good and she downed two cups of it in short order.
With the music and festivities, she forgot about her harrowing day, only thinking of the wonderful life she was sure to have in this place.
Matthew no longer seemed resistant to their union and she was doubly pleased.
The White Lord she had dreamt of for ten years would soon be hers.
“Do you sing, my lady?”
The soft male voice came from her left. She turned to see that Adam was speaking to her.
“Somewhat, my lord,” she replied.
“Excellent,” he said happily. “Will you honor us with a song?”
She visibly blanched. “Now?”
“Please,” Adam begged gently. “It has been too long since I have heard a fine lady sing. Caroline has many talents, but singing is not one of them.”
Alixandrea glanced around the room of feasting, drinking men. They were loud and boisterous and she was intimidated. She caught Matthew out of the corner of her eye and she looked at him, trying to think of a way to gracefully decline the request. He could see her reluctance.
“Now is not a good time, Father,” he said. “The lady has had a trying day. It is too much.”
“Nonsense,” Adam scoffed. “How difficult is it to sing a little song? I wish it.”
Matthew did not look particularly pleased. “I do not think it would be wise.”
“I wish it.”
Alixandrea could see that there was no way out of the situation and she did not want to create a battle between them.
“Very well, my lord,” she said. “What would you like to hear?”
“My Own True Love,” Adam said without hesitation. “It was a favorite of Matthew’s mother.”
She stood up to leave the table. A glance at Matthew showed him to be still seated, his expression bordering on displeasure.
She did not understand why he seemed so unhappy with his father’s request. But he stood up, dutifully took her hand, and led her through the maze of drunk men to the minstrels on the other side of the room.
Leaving her with the musicians, he took to the shadows but stayed nearby, mostly for protection against the drunken masses.
Alixandrea asked the minstrels to play the song that Adam had requested and the men heartily agreed.
They were very young men, four of them, that had proven quite skilled with their talents.
They played the vielle, citole, harp and flute.
She turned to face the crowd as Mark and Luke whistled loudly for silence.
The hall quieted somewhat as the men, and their drink, turned to the lovely vision in yellow standing against the north wall.
Even the servants in the gallery above stopped in their duties to listen. The air quieted.
She had a captive audience. Alixandrea tried not to think of the hundreds of eyes staring at her. She had sung in an assembly before, many times, but this was different. She did not know these people and she did not want to make a fool of herself. She hoped they would like her.
The music began, the soft introduction of the many-stringed citole. After a few delicate bars, the words came.
O lovely one… my lovely one.
The years will come… the years will go…
But still you’ll be… my own true love…
Until the day… we’ll meet again….
Her voice was as pure as the ringing of silver bells, sweet and lilting and high.
Her tone and pitch were perfect, in delicate combination with the haunting sound of the citole.
There wasn’t one person in the hall that hadn’t come to a complete halt, in movement or in conversation, within the first few notes of her song. The second verse continued.
O lovely one… my lovely one…
My love for you… will never die…
My heart is yours… ’til the end of time…
When you will be…my own true love…
The song was over, though no one dared move.
Alixandrea stood there, horrified that they did not like her song.
But then the hall erupted in riotous cheering, so loud that she nearly had to cover her ears.
She looked around and spied Matthew back against the wall behind her.
He simply gazed at her, his face expressionless, before finally moving forward to claim her.
She looked at him for some indication of what he thought of her talent. He gave her none.
He took her all the way back to the table where Adam sat with tears in his eyes. Alixandrea was flattered and concerned all at the same time.
“My lord?” she asked hesitantly. “Was the song not to your liking?”
Adam sniffled and wiped his eyes. He was drunk, that was true, but the song would have brought tears to his eyes even if he had not been. He put a big warm hand over her fingers.
“I have heard that song many times, my lady,” he said. “I have never heard it sung quite so beautifully.”
She smiled her thanks, turning to Matthew to see if she could yet gain a reaction from him. Wine in hand, he was gazing into his chalice.
“My lord?” she said softly. “Did you not like the song?”
He swirled the dregs and took a long drink. Then he looked at her. “I was wrong.”
“About what?”
“You. You are perfect.”
“I do not understand.”
He sighed and set the cup down. “My mother used to sing that song to me,” he said quietly. “I always thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world the way she sang it. But you… you sing it better than she ever could.”
She sensed sorrow from him and wasn’t sure why. “I am truly sorry if I have upset you,” she did not know what to say. “Your father asked me to sing the song and I did not know that…”
He looked at her, the warmth back in his eyes. “You did nothing but sing that song more sweetly than anything on this earth. It simply reminded me of my mother and how much I miss her. You will sing many more times for me in the years to come.”
“If you wish it.”
“I do.”
“Then I did not offend you?”
“Of course not.”
Adam could not seem to stop weeping. He put his hand on her arm. “Will you sing the song again, just for me?”
Alixandrea looked to Matthew for guidance. His father was shedding tears and she did not want to aggravate it. Matthew sighed heavily; there was still displeasure in his voice in spite of his words to the contrary. “Sing it. It has been a long time since he has heard it.”
She sang the song thirteen times that evening.