Chapter Ten #3
“I have no doubt that you can,” Thor said. “But my question would be how happy are you?”
Caledonia’s smile faded as she gazed into those bright blue eyes. “Can you not tell?”
A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “I never want to assume.”
“You can assume,” she said. “If I do not look happy, then I will tell you plainly. This week with you has been the happiest week of my life. I feel as if I am living in a dream.”
He reached out and took her hand. “No more thoughts of running off to Gomorrah?”
“I cannot even remember the place.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am.”
With a grin, he lifted her hand, kissed it, and tucked it into the crook of his elbow.
Proudly, Thor led his wife through the column, picking up Darius and Nicola as they went.
Clayne joined also, leaving Truett in charge of the escort now that the man had returned from securing rooms for the night.
As the group headed toward the long but narrow street of the merchants, Clayne began sniffing the air.
“Smell it?” he said. “The roasting meat. The bakers’ ovens are roasting beef for suppers all over the city.”
It wasn’t uncommon for the ovens of the bakers to be used for things other than bread. They roasted meat for families who didn’t have the ovens or facilities to do it, and at this time of day, the ovens were going full steam for families all over the city.
“It smells like venison,” Caledonia said. “Slightly sweet.”
Thor looked at her. “How do you know that?”
“Because I like venison.”
Clayne took up pace on her other side. “It is beef,” he insisted.
“I would know that smell anywhere. When I was young, my mother would make a mixture of finely chopped beef, spices, and mushrooms and bake it in a pie. Then she would cover it with gravy. My brothers and I would have to fight my father for it, but I always won. No one beats me when it comes to food.”
He was grinning as he said it, and Thor chimed in. “His mother is my mother’s sister,” he told Caledonia. “His father was a knight sworn to my father, many years ago. A fiercer man you will never meet.”
“Then you are telling me that he is family,” she said seriously.
“He is,” Thor said. “We call him Bully. It is a long story, but suffice it to say that his father is known as Bull and Clayne is just like his father. Little Bull.”
She understood. “And I am free to treat Bully like family?”
Thor suspected she had something in mind from the way she asked the question so he nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “I wish you would.”
With a playful glance at her husband, Caledonia turned her attention to Clayne, who didn’t look anything like her beauteous husband.
He was fair, muscular, and short, and he had an aggressive manner about him, so she thought the name Bully suited him.
She hadn’t spent much time around him during their journey because he was usually busy carrying out Thor’s commands, but she’d seen enough to know that the man was stubborn, loud, and easy with his laughter.
Truth be told, he reminded her a good deal of Constantine.
“I will make you a wager,” she said to Clayne. “I will bet you that my nose is sharper than yours. It is venison and it is coming from the next street over. Go and see for yourself if you do not believe me.”
Clayne frowned. “Beef!”
“Venison.”
“Go and find out,” Thor told his cousin irritably. “Buy some while you are at it. I am hungry.”
That was enough to send Clayne through the alleyway between the main streets, heading for the bakers and the smell of beef. Or venison. That left Caledonia and Thor, with Nicola and Darius following, on the street of merchants that was quite vast.
It was a small city unto itself.
It was less crowded at this time of day because most people had already done their shopping, so they were able to find a shop that carried fabric.
A seamstress was next door and had pre-made garments, loosely basted, to be finished when a lady purchased them.
Thor and Nicola were particularly interested in those while Caledonia wasn’t entirely sure about them.
She didn’t really know fashion, although Nicola had done her best during their week of travel to educate her.
Still, Caledonia hung back, looking at the tables of silk scarves, as Nicola made contact with the merchant.
The pre-made dresses began to come off their pegs.
Beautiful surcoats and complete dresses made from elaborate fabric were laid out on one of the merchant tables.
In some cases, the dresses were quite detailed, with different types of fabrics on the bottom of the surcoat than on the top.
There were embroidered bodices, silk panels, and brocade skirts.
Then there were simpler gowns made from linen or lamb’s wool or fabrics from faraway lands.
There were many to choose from, many that Nicola pored over, and Thor eventually brought Caledonia over to the table to look.
“Well?” he said. “Nica has picked these out. Do you like any of them?”
Caledonia was uncomfortable selecting clothing like this. Nicola had spent time at court so she knew what was popular and fashionable, but Caledonia knew nothing.
“They are all very pretty,” she said hesitantly. “It is difficult to choose.”
Nicola held up a ruby-red silk, putting it against Caledonia to see how it would look on her. “This is very pretty,” she said. “Do you like the color, Callie?”
Caledonia looked down at it. The dress was magnificent with gold thread, but it was so unlike anything she ever wore. As she tried to think of something kind to say to Nicola, who was genuinely trying to help, Thor could see her reluctance. She didn’t seem particularly at ease.
“Nica,” he said. “Put that dress aside and find something blue. I like blue.”
As Nicola turned around and went in search of a blue garment, Thor grasped Caledonia by the arm and gently pulled her back over to the scarf table, away from his sister and the merchant as they pawed over the clothing.
“What is wrong?” he asked softly. “Why do you not seem excited about this?”
Caledonia took a deep breath, forcing a smile. “It is not that I am not excited,” she said. “But those dresses…”
“What about them?”
Caledonia was reluctant to say, so she tried to be tactful. “I have never had elaborate dresses like that in my life,” she said. “I am not comfortable dressing like a queen. I am sorry to say that because I know you liked to see me well dressed, but I would much prefer something simpler.”
Thor well remembered what she was wearing when he met her.
He knew that all of her clothing was like that, so much so that she’d been borrowing gowns from his sister so she could be more properly dressed.
But he’d come to see over the past week that, in spite of her incredible beauty, Caledonia had rather simple tastes.
She didn’t like to spend money, didn’t want to wear fine silks or jewelry or even pretty lady’s slippers.
She dressed very nearly like a peasant and was happy that way.
He could see that this was going to be a delicate dance with her.
“I would be very happy to find you simple clothing,” he said.
“But will you at least honor your husband’s wishes by choosing simple clothing with finer fabrics?
Truly, Caledonia, you are far too beautiful to wear broadcloth.
You were made for gorgeous clothing and it does my heart good to see you dressed well. Will you at least consider it?”
Caledonia nodded, but reluctantly. “If it will make you happy, I will,” she said. “And I will even select an elaborate gown for those times when the situation calls for it.”
“Good,” he said, kissing her. “Thank you. Would you like me to help you pick them out?”
“Do you want to?”
He shrugged. “To be honest, I know nothing about fine clothing other than whether or not I like the color.”
Caledonia could see, in that moment, that he wasn’t any more comfortable picking out dresses than she was. Probably less so. It must have been emasculating for him to be in the merchant stall, but he was doing it for her, so she took pity on him.
“Go,” she said. “Your sister will help me. Why not go and find your cousin? Make sure he does not cheat by telling me the roasting meat we all smelled was beef and not venison.”
Thor lifted his eyebrows in agreement. “Knowing him, he would try to sew cow hide on the venison just to prove a point.”
“Then you must save my honor.”
He smiled at her, leaning down to kiss her sweetly. “Always,” he whispered.
With a wink, he was gone, heading out of the merchant stall as Caledonia stood there and grinned.
Does he fill your every waking thought?
Do you long for the sound of his voice?
Would you do anything for him, anything in the world?
Those were the questions Nicola had asked of her as the definition of love. They were like listing the symptoms of a disease—did she have all of them? She was fairly certain she did.
And it didn’t distress her in the least.
Still smiling, she turned back to the garments.
*
Darius had been standing outside of the merchant stall when Thor emerged, for the man had flatly refused to enter or have anything to do with what he considered women’s duties.
Thor left him at the mouth of the stall as a guard for his wife and sister as he headed back the way they’d come.
His destination was the street of the bakers because he was quite hungry and, knowing him, Clayne would eat everything and forget to bring him something.
Stomach rumbling, he headed down the avenue.
Nearing the end of the street, he happened to glance at the shop on the corner, which was small and cluttered, but in the open window he could see several exotic-looking daggers that were chained together and locked so no one could make off with them.
Curious, he went to look at them, seeing that they were all shapes and sizes and clearly not forged in England.
As he peered at a particularly large dagger with a metal blade that seemed to be discolored, the merchant came up on the other side of the window.
“Good day, my lord,” he said. “You are inspecting my Levant daggers.”
Thor glanced at him. “Is that where these are from?”
The merchant nodded as he unlocked the chain and pulled the larger dagger free. He handed it carefully to Thor.
“Damascus steel,” he said. “The most prized steel in the known world.”
Thor held it up in the light. The steel of the blade had wavy lines, beautifully mottled. “I’ve heard of it,” he said. “I’ve never seen it, though. Are all of these daggers like this?”
The merchant nodded and handed him another one. “I have four of them,” he said. “I went on a buying trip last year to Paris and Venice and Rome. I found them in Rome along with many ancient treasures. Would you like to see them?”
Thor shook his head. “Not now,” he said. “But I am very interested in the dagger. How much do you want for it?”
“Ten pounds.”
“That is a good deal of money.”
The merchant conceded the point. “It is, but it is an exquisite weapon,” he said. “That steel will cut through anything. It will cut flesh as easily as a knife through butter. Surely a knight such as you would want to have such a magnificent weapon at your side?”
Truthfully, Thor wanted it. Like a child wants a toy, he wanted the dagger. It really was beautiful. As he pondered the extravagant purchase, the merchant reached over to one of his nearby tables and brought forth a box filled with trinkets and jewelry.
“Buy the weapon and I will give you something for your wife,” he said. “You have a wife, do you not? A comely man like you should have a dozen.”
Thor gave him a half-grin. “I do not think my wife would let me,” he said, weakening as the man flashed the jewelry box at him. “What do you have for her?”
The merchant held up a gorgeous gold and citrine necklace. “I got this in Rome along with the daggers,” he said. “I was told that an empress wore this.”
“Lovely.”
“And this,” the merchant said, putting the citrine necklace aside as he picked up another with a long gold chain and what looked like a big jewel at the end of it.
“I was told that a Roman Caesar gave this to his wife. It is a blue lapis lazuli and a star has been carved into it. See it? Under the star is the word Uxorious.”
Thor could see the star and the Roman letters. The lapis was surrounded by diamonds, uncut, but the entire necklace was quite beautiful.
“What does Uxorious mean?” he asked.
“It is the Roman word for glorious wife or revered wife,” the merchant said. “Give this to your wife and she will never become angry at you again.”
As Thor took the necklace from the man to inspect it, the merchant dug into the jewelry box again and came up with a gold ring. It had a row of diamonds in it, glistening in the light. There was scrollwork in the gold, making it a truly lovely ring. The merchant held it out to him.
“And this,” he said. “Would your wife like this? It is made for a beautiful woman. Does she not deserve it?”
The man was quite a salesman, and Thor finally snorted, taking the ring and both necklaces from him.
“Give me the dagger, too,” he said. “Ten pounds for everything.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“I need to get away from you before you sell me this entire shop.”
The merchant chuckled and scurried away, returning with a silk-lined box for the jewelry.
Thor paid him his money and took his treasures, quite happy with the dagger.
It was most impressive. But he was even happier with the jewelry.
It wasn’t much, but it was well made and beautiful.
He hadn’t thought of buying Caledonia a wedding ring until the merchant produced the gold band, and the necklace—Uxorious—was something he hoped she would like.
It summed up how he felt about her, this woman he’d chased down, fought with, drank with, and made love with.
Glorious wife, indeed.
When he gave it to her, she wept.