Chapter Nine
Feasting
The door opened without warning. Noelle twisted to her side and eyed Katherine standing at the doorway with a platter of food. How foolish to think Randvior would give her time to catch up on sleep.
“I suppose you’ve been instructed to stay with me at all times,” she commented sarcastically as she gestured for the maid to enter.
She climbed out of bed and inspected Katherine closely. “Turn around.”
The maid rotated slowly while her mistress ran her fingers through her auburn hair, which was swept back off her face. Everything seemed right. Noelle breathed a sigh of relief.
“I pray I never live to regret my decision to cooperate with these people.”
Katherine nodded and served the food.
“Your bedchamber is over there.” Noelle pointed at the door near the hearth.
“Thank you.” Katherine curtsied. “I promise to serve you well.”
“Of that I have no doubt. We shall act as each other’s eyes and ears. We are English above all things and will never accept being condemned to live anonymously in this strange country.”
“Might we find a way home?” Katherine’s hands trembled as she poured a glass of wine.
“Home …” Noelle repeated. Durham seemed as foreign a place as Norway. “Home is inconsequential at this point.”
Katherine’s face grew barren.
“I’d be a cold-hearted liar if I offered you false hopes. Believe me, if we had a choice, I’d choose England. The jarl holds legal documents that grant him custody of all of us. I reviewed the contract on the ship.”
She knew Katherine was clever enough to understand. “Then we must make the best of our new arrangements.” The maid offered her the glass of wine.
Noelle culled over the food—bread, cheese, and fruit.
An hour ago, her stomach begged for sustenance and now she could barely handle looking at it.
The only thing that appealed to her was blueberries, surprisingly plump and firm.
She stuffed a handful ravenously into her mouth.
Sweet juices seeped from the edges of her lips and ran down her chin. Katherine giggled and offered a napkin.
“I’m so tired of tasteless bread, and now even cheese.” She wrinkled her nose in rejection and turned from the table.
“I’ve been told to escort you to the bathhouse. The jarl promised he would leave soap and oil for us to bathe with.”
Noelle didn’t care if he offered her a puddle of mud—she wanted to go, and now. “Well, why are we still standing here?”
The maid tapped her fingers on the table as if she were mulling it over in her head. She smiled and followed her mistress out the door.
Below, the hall bustled with life. Men came and went, disappeared below stairs carrying cargo into what Noelle guessed were storage cellars.
She wondered how many of those chests came from her father’s home.
She searched for Randvior amongst the crowd, but couldn’t find him anywhere.
Katherine led her across the room, passing by groups of men and women who stared curiously.
Two doors were opened in the back and Noelle stopped and stared outside.
Dozens of buildings stood in the yard. She identified the stable, horses were lined up outside and grooms were brushing their fine coats.
She spotted Randvior standing in a corner.
His lingering gaze followed as she stepped closer to the kitchen.
She stopped and fixed her eyes on his face.
Could she possibly hide the feelings he stirred inside her whenever he stared at her?
He lowered his head in greeting and turned before she could decide.
Curiously, Katherine passed the doors that opened to the courtyard and brought her to the kitchen.
Noelle considered the lively room, careful not to disturb any of the women who worked so diligently at the counters and ovens.
Racks of fresh bread were cooling near a back door and the familiar aroma of meat pie nearly made her salivate like a hungry dog.
No one bothered to greet her. Not a bloody word from anyone.
She might as well be a spirit. Try as she might to distract herself from giving it any more thought, it made her feelings simmer.
Every woman laboring away in a kitchen across the civilized world gossiped while preparing the day’s meals.
She expected a certain level of animosity from the servants, considering where she came from.
But something bothered her even more. Why did Katherine bring her here when they could have avoided this room altogether and gone straight outside through the doors in the hall.
“Who told you to bring me here?”
“Lauga.”
“Did she offer an explanation?”
“Only that thralls are not permitted to use the main entrances for personal business.”
Noelle wiped her hands on her dress and shook her head. The audacity … She lifted her chin and started for Lauga, who was managing the women baking pastries. Then stopped short, realizing it a bad time to confront her.
From the moment she had arrived, she knew things would not go smoothly with the matriarch of Randvior’s family. Noelle’s feelings were important, though, and she deserved all the small courtesies extended to even the humblest of guests.
I am not here of my own choosing! Blame your son, not me. Her eyes bored holes in Lauga’s back.
Perhaps she was overanalyzing everything, but she didn’t like the way the woman made her feel. She headed in the opposite direction, toward a doorway where Katherine waited. They walked outside.
Breathing in the fresh air, she enjoyed the warmth that streaked across her face. Sunlight was a valuable commodity in northern England in the wintertime. Noelle knew the farther north, the rarer it became. Randvior had warned it might take some time to acclimate.
Two-dozen outbuildings were arranged in a semi-circle just outside the main house.
Katherine identified them all. A barn, shearing sheds, smoke houses, storage rooms, armory, and other infrastructure necessary for every day survival.
Beyond the service buildings were dozens of wooden cabins of all shapes and sizes, similar to an English village. This must be where his tenants lived.
The bathhouse stood out amongst the other buildings, constructed of rough-cut logs and sealed with dark mud.
Katherine opened the door and Noelle stepped inside first. She immediately noticed the dramatic change in humidity; a foggy heat swirled around them.
No one was inside—an arrangement Randvior must have taken care of.
Tiny beads of sweat formed on her forehead and in the valley between her breasts.
She gathered up the hem of her gown and tried to cool her legs by fanning them.
She walked the perimeter of the narrow room. A natural hot spring bubbled invitingly near the center like a witch’s cauldron. Without a second thought, Noelle stripped, kicked off her boots, and peeled off her stockings. She allowed the healing warmth to overtake her.
She continued to tour the room with her eyes.
There were two tiled tubs on one side where she imagined families gathered for their weekly baths.
The hot spring was banked by warm, flat rocks.
She stepped up and the heat penetrated the soles of her feet.
She tested the water with her toes. The effervescent heat reminded her of Randvior’s searing fingertips.
Noelle stepped into the water and waded away from the edge until she was submerged to her shoulders.
She had to stand on her toes to keep her head above water by the time she reached the middle of the pool.
After a while, she swam back to the edge and stared toward the back of the room.
Tables and chairs were neatly arranged alongside a large fire pit.
Several smaller pits and wooden shelves stocked with linens were near the tables.
She sat on the stones with her legs still soaking in the water.
She watched amusedly as her maid removed her clothing and waded into the water.
Her gratifying moans were rewarded with a hearty laugh.
Submerged in the healing waters, Noelle felt as if the world were a perfect place.
God’s hands alone formed this paradise and she pretended it was an enchanted spring and she a fairy changeling.
She raised her arms above her head and breathed in and out, relaxing for the first time in days.
Noelle closed her eyes and fantasized about exotic places—beautiful men and women in public bathhouses in Rome.
So real were these images, she nearly jumped out of her skin when Katherine tapped her on the shoulder.
“Tender skin—look how red you are.”
Noelle inspected her own body. Bright pink splotches covered her arms and stomach like a fever rash. They were being boiled alive! She groaned with disappointment and grudgingly stood and walked away from the pool. Katherine scooted ahead and returned with a pile of linens.
The soft material felt good against Noelle’s skin.
Draped in towels, they walked to the tiled tubs.
As promised, a basket of scented soaps and bottles of oil waited.
Noelle smiled as she disrobed and stepped inside.
She lowered herself into the cooler water.
Katherine opened a bottle of oil and poured a generous amount onto her hands.
She lathered and began massaging Noelle’s shoulders.
The emotional storm raging inside her eased the deeper her maid’s hands penetrated her sore muscles. In time, she’d know what to do.