Chapter Four #4
Courtly smiled at him as she put the phial back into the purse and shoved the entire thing into a pocket in the waistline of her surcoat.
When she was finished tucking it away, she returned her focus to Maximus.
He was watching her closely, and she took a moment to simply take in the man and his features; the square jaw covered by the neatly trimmed beard, the straight nose, the cropped hair.
To think that such a handsome man would bring her a gift made her feel light and giddy, but it was more than that – he was showing depth that she had never seen in a man of his caliber.
Working in a kitchen and an unkempt appearance didn’t disturb him.
Was it possible that Maximus de Shera was a man of true and noble character, more than she could possibly imagine?
“You are very gallant to want to protect me,” she said after a moment. “Is that who you truly are, Sir Maximus? A protector of women who jump out of windows?”
He shrugged. “I am a protector of women who need it,” he said. “You may need it should your father discover what I brought you.”
“If he does, I will handle him. I would not want to trouble you with it.”
“It would be no trouble, I assure you.”
She laughed softly, mostly because he seemed so unsure of himself as they skirted the edge of a flirtatious exchange.
“How can you say that to me?” she demanded lightly.
“I smell of smoke, my face is red, and I am cooking like a common servant. I cannot comprehend that you would still be so gallant towards a woman who has done naught to impress you, in any fashion.”
Maximus’ smile faded as he gazed into her big, beautiful eyes.
His guard was going down and he didn’t even realize it.
He wasn’t practiced enough with women yet to truly know how to maintain a sense of self-protection.
Whatever magic Courtly de Lara had, it was working on him.
It was breaking him down, stone by de Shera stone.
“That is not true,” he said quietly. “I knew when I met you this afternoon that you were a lady of breeding and beauty and honor. Even now, you cook a meal because there is no one left to do it. Rather than let us starve, you would make sure we do not. That speaks greatly for your character, my lady. You have impressed me deeply yet you do not even realize it.”
Courtly could feel his sincerity. Something in his gaze was reaching out for her, touching her, like invisible fingers that would stroke her cheek or touch her hair.
She could feel all of this from him and more, and her heart, much like his, began to race wildly.
Could it be possible that the man was as interested in her as she was in him?
She could not dare to hope but, evidently, it was true.
She could read it in his expression and in everything about him. Her heart began to soar.
“If that is true, then I am honored and grateful,” she said, feeling heat in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat of the kitchen. The heat came from Maximus’ gaze. “At the very least, I have not offended you with my actions, and I am greatly relieved.”
Maximus found himself inspecting the arch of her eyebrows and the pert tip of her nose.
She had such a magnificent face. “Nay, lady, you have not offended me,” he said, his tone gruff and soft.
“You could never do such a thing. But as much as I would like to continue this conversation, mayhap we should take the food into the hall now so that my men will not faint away from hunger. My brother has come with me and he becomes quite cross when he is hungry, so do allow me to help you bring the meal to the table. It would be my honor.”
Courtly wasn’t sure she could deny his offer for help again.
Truth was, she didn’t want to deny him. He was being genteel and kind, and she liked it very much.
She wanted to keep him with her, around her, even if that meant carrying trays of beans and pork.
If he was willing, she would let him. She smiled in surrender.
“Very well,” she said. “I should not like your brother to become angry because he is famished. I must carry this great pot out to the feasting hall so that we may distribute the stew from it. Will you help me with it?”
Maximus looked around the kitchen, noting there were no trenchers. “That is a very heavy and very hot pot,” he said. “What did you plan to serve the stew in?”
Courtly sighed, the smile fading from her face. “There is no old bread or trenchers that I can find,” she said. “However, I made bread and I thought… well, it seems barbaric for all of us to eat out of the pot, but I am not sure there is any choice.”
Maximus began poking around the kitchen, looking for something to serve guests with individual servings. Under the butcher’s table, he found four wooden trays, which he pulled out and set upon the tabletop.
“We can use these,” he said. “We can cover them with the bread you prepared and then put the stew on top of it. Do you have spoons?”
Courtly inspected the trays. “I am ashamed I did not find these before you did,” she said, shrugging when he grinned at her. “They are rather dirty. Mayhap we can rinse them with water and use them as you have indicated. It is a brilliant idea. And I have indeed found some spoons to use.”
“Excellent,” Maximus said, picking up the trays. “Where is the well?”
Courtly pointed to the kitchen yard outside. “In the yard,” she said. “I will see if I can find other things to use to serve the stew in.”
Maximus winked at her and went out into the yard, drawing water in the darkness to rinse off the dirty trays.
Still lingering on his wink, Courtly went about searching for other trays, stashed or hidden, and found six wooden bowls of varying sizes that had been kept under a smaller butcher’s block.
Maximus ended up rinsing those off as well, and when all was said and done, they had found eleven items that could be used to eat from.
Both Maximus and Courtly were people of thought, of resourcefulness, and in this small moment of time, in a smelly and smoky kitchen, they bonded over making the evening meal a success as neither of them had ever bonded with anyone else.
It was an odd situation, to say the least, but one that brought out the best in both of them.
Courtly started it when she decided not to let her dinner guests go hungry and Maximus helped ensure that Courtly’s efforts would be a success.
By the time the food was actually brought to the table, in abundance, Courtly was actually proud of what she had done and Maximus admired the woman more than he could have expressed.
He was the last one to be seated, ensuring that Courtly was seated and served before he was.
It was a sweetly chivalrous gesture, one that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone in the room, including Kellen.
But Kellen was the only one who wasn’t touched by it.
In fact, he could see that something was brewing between Maximus and his daughter and he silently scolded himself for inviting the man into his home where he could get his claws into Courtly.
His daughter, however, didn’t seem to mind in the least. She spent the entire evening smiling at Maximus and speaking to him on fairly frivolous things, to which he paid careful attention.
Any other man would have ignored the topics she was discussing, but not Maximus.
He was listening. Any man who would listen to talk of flowers and painting and art was a fool for a woman, indeed.
Kellen cursed himself for not having seen any of this at the onset.
As the evening deepened and Kellen watched the interaction between the two, he knew that he could not let it go on. Whatever was happening had to be immediately stopped.
He would have to end it.