Chapter Nine
“You are a glutton.”
Mira looked at Douglas with her eyebrows lifted, her eyes wide, and an expression bent on murder. They were sitting at a small, rough-hewn table, along with several other people, next to one of the larger bakeries on the street of the bakers.
But this conversation was just between the two of them.
“What did you just say to me?” she demanded.
He was trying very hard not to laugh. “You,” he said slowly, “are a glutton.”
“That’s what I thought you said.”
“It’s true.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You ate more than I did, Douglas de Lohr,” she said. “You even ate that horrible stew that had all of the innards and eyeballs in it.”
“It was delicious.”
“It was disgusting!”
He did laugh then. They’d just come from the street of the bakers where two ovens, one enormous and one smaller, were blazing and smoking and creating some of the most marvelous baked goods.
There were eleven bakers on the street—several smaller ones and then three or four larger ones.
It was the larger ones who also prepared food, like fish pie or cheese tart or that terrible stew Mira had described.
It was called Garbage, and aptly so, because the contents came from the butchers on the next street and this particular vat of Garbage, in an enormous iron pot, had been cooking for almost a year.
It was a continuous pot of stew. Every day, one of the bakers added water and another added more entrails or brains or chicken feet to it to keep it going.
It was hot and cheap and nutritious and the broth alone, because it had been cooking so long, was rich and dark and salty.
Douglas thought that Mira probably would have liked it had it not been for the chicken heads floating in it.
That alone meant she wouldn’t touch it.
But she hadn’t gone hungry. The street of the bakers, from one end to the other, offered a wide variety of foods.
There was something for everybody. Mira had a fondness for eggs, so everything they hunted for had to have egg in it.
Baked eggs, scrambled eggs, an omelet of eggs, and so on.
Mira had been especially fond of a baked egg dish that had cream and cheese in it, and she’d stuffed herself silly with that and about a half a loaf of bread.
Given that she was a rather tiny creature, Douglas found it humorous that she’d eaten so much.
Hence the glutton comment.
“Say what you will about the stew,” he told her. “If you were half as brave as you thought you were, then you would try it.”
Mira shook her head even before he finished his sentence. “Not me,” she said. “But I do thank you for the feast. It was lovely.”
He collected his purse, a leather pouch at his belt, and weighed it in his hand. “I spent too much money on you,” he teased. “I am poor, so we must go now.”
Mira grinned. “You are a de Lohr, so I doubt you even know what being poor means.”
“Do you?”
She shrugged, her smile fading. “Nay,” she said honestly. “Not really. I have some money, money that I have earned from Lady Isabel, but I’ve never gone hungry. I’ve always had a roof over my head and I am determined to keep it.”
She was referring to their earlier conversation about her being destitute if Lady Isabel decided she was no longer effective with the young wards. Douglas was well aware, but he didn’t want to return to that particular subject.
“And you will remain well taken care of if I have anything to say about it,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at a busy intersection where the street of the bakers intersected the avenue that led to the market.
“Are you truly finished? Because if you are, we should return to the group. I am not entirely sure Lady Isabel would like you to be alone with me without an escort for so long.”
Mira stood up, brushing crumbs off the traveling dress she wore. It was simple, brown in color, but she wore it like a goddess.
“You are correct,” she said. Then she walked around the table and looked at him. “Douglas, I’ve decided something.”
“What is that?”
“I am not going to let Astoria and the rest of the girls vex me,” she said as they began to walk. “If they are petty and jealous, then that is their weakness. Not mine. If they continue to behave that way, I will tell them so.”
He smiled. “I would expect nothing less from you.”
They were heading toward the intersection now, moving through the crowds of people. Mira lifted her hand, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked on ahead and the marketplace.
“Silly, foolish chickens,” she said, disgruntled. “I’ll show them what honor is. What character is. They’ll not get the better of me.”
Douglas could see the marketplace ahead, too. “I would not say they are entirely foolish,” he said. “They do have an eye for me, after all. They have good taste.”
She looked at him in exasperation. “God’s Bones,” she muttered. “You are not supposed to say that. I may say it, but not you.”
“Why not?”
“Do you truly need your pride fed so badly?”
“If you are not going to flatter me, then I must flatter myself.”
Mira broke down in snorts. “Poor man,” she said. “It’s not enough that nine other young women think you are handsome. You must hear it from me, too.”
“That would help.”
“Then I am concerned,” she said, growing serious. “Is that enough? Should I go to the church and have the nuns tell you that also? What about the children playing down the avenue? Shall I have them sing your praises, too?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Easy, lass,” he said. “No need to get nasty.”
She looked at him as if she had no idea what he meant. “I am only trying to bolster that great and fragile pride you have.”
“Fragile?”
“It must be if you put such stock in only one woman’s opinion.”
He fought off a grin, scratching his forehead. “You certainly know how to put me in my place,” he said. “I suppose I should be grateful.”
She flashed a grin when he couldn’t see it. “You should never put so much weight on one woman’s opinion.”
“I will do as I please, especially if it is the woman I have proposed marriage to.”
They were coming to the middle of the intersection now, still moving through the crowd, but now avoiding cross-traffic. When a cart came too close, Douglas reached out and grasped Mira’s arm, pulling her back to avoid being hit. They were about to continue when Jonathan abruptly appeared.
“Douglas,” he said. “Good. I’ve found you.”
Both Douglas and Mira looked at him. “So you have,” he said. “We were just returning to the group. I hope Lady Isabel is not wondering where we went. Truly, we just went to find food. Nothing scandalous.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Not that,” he said. “Everyone is heading back to the escort quickly. It seems there are Tatworth men in town, and we are concerned they might start something.”
Douglas went from relaxed man to professional knight in the blink of an eye. His expression tightened and he took on the look of a hunter. “Have they seen us?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
“Where are they?”
Jonathan pointed off toward the southeast, where there was an entire row of two- and three-storied wattle and daub homes, neatly in a line.
“Over there,” he said. “There is a group of about seven of them. Eric recognized them, so we are hurrying everyone back to the castle.”
Douglas couldn’t really see who he was talking about because there were a lot of people in town on this day.
He frowned.
“What in the hell are they doing here?” he wondered aloud. “Axminster is not their town. They have no business being here.”
“Unless they are scouting for Lord Tatworth, simply to get the lie of the land.”
Douglas looked at him. “To see if we’ve let our guard down?”
“Possibly.”
Douglas didn’t like the sound of that. “Then we are going to find out what their business is,” he said. “Come along.”
Quickly, he and Jonathan escorted Mira back to the escort, where the ladies were just loading up into the carriage.
Because Douglas wasn’t certain what they might be facing, he separated eight soldiers out of the escort, and Davyss, to form the confrontation party.
Eric would take the remainder of the soldiers and the women back to the castle.
Even if Eric wouldn’t wield a sword, the soldiers would and Eric was proficient at command.
The decision had been made.
But Lady Isabel wasn’t so sure.
“Douglas,” she said, “is there truly a need for this? If we leave them alone, won’t they simply go away?”
Douglas knew she was concerned. She wanted to keep the peace. She’d been concerned for everything that had happened after her allies defeated Tamworth, including Tamworth’s discipline. Now she didn’t want his men confronted in a public place. But Douglas had his reasons.
“My lady, the simple fact is that they have no reason to be in Axminster,” he said.
“Unless they are shopping at the marketplace, which I strongly doubt, there is no reason to be here. This is not their village. I simply want to find out why they are here and reiterate that they are not welcome in Axminster.”
Isabel was torn. “But why must you confront them? Can we not leave well enough alone?”
“Would you prefer I leave them to do whatever it is they are here to do and they end up harassing the citizens of Axminster?” he said. “My lady, they do not belong here. I am going to ensure that they understand that.”
Isabel sighed heavily, looking to Mira, who nodded her head. “It is better this way, my lady,” Mira said. “You do not want those men creating trouble.”
Isabel still wasn’t entirely in agreement, but she didn’t argue. She turned and climbed back into the carriage as Mira turned to Douglas.
“What are you going to do?” she asked quietly.
Douglas’ eyes glimmered. “Why?” he said. “Are you worried about me?”
She sneered. “Never,” she said. “I hope they cut your head off.”
He couldn’t help the laughter. “You’ll be sorry you said that if they do,” he said. “You had better say a prayer that you have not cursed me.”