Chapter Nine #2
Once again, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her with him.
Anaxandra let him, though by her expression, she was displeased.
He didn’t care as long as she wasn’t trying to throw a punch.
They were about ten feet from the tavern door when he suddenly veered over to the merchant stall again, back to the table with the fabric.
He picked up one of pale blue and held it up to her.
“This is the color of yer eyes,” he said. “For yer trouble in escorting me tae Dumfries, I’d like tae buy it for ye.”
Anaxandra looked at him in shock. “Me?” she said incredulously. “I… Nay, you mustn’t!”
He wouldn’t listen to her. “It’s my money and I can spend it how I please,” he said. He was still holding her wrist as he pulled her into the stall. “Let’s see what else I can buy ye.”
Anaxandra was beside herself. Now, in the middle of the stall that was packed with goods, the unfamiliar smells of faraway places and faraway things filled her nostrils.
She could smell cinnamon and sandalwood and other spicy scents.
The merchant, a small man with a receding hairline, came out to meet Estevan, who proceeded to tell him that he wanted something pretty for the lady—a necklace of gold, if he had it.
As the man directed him toward his vault with jewelry, the man’s wife came out from the rear of the stall and descended on Anaxandra.
“Ah!” she said with delight, flashing her big, yellowed teeth. “What a lovely lady we have! But where is yer fine clothing, lass? What are ye wearing?”
Estevan heard her and came away from the merchant, putting himself between Anaxandra and the loud-mouthed wife. “There is nothing wrong with what she’s wearing,” he said. “This is what she chooses tae wear, as she’s a woman of great skill and training.”
The merchant’s wife looked at him fearfully, but also with confusion. “I meant nothing by it, m’laird,” she said. “I simply meant… that she’s a lovely woman. A lovely woman deserves lovely things.”
Estevan turned to look at Anaxandra, who was flushing a deep red color. She’s embarrassed, he thought. Perhaps coming into the merchant stall had been a mistake. He certainly hadn’t meant to embarrass her.
“M’laird,” the merchant said, catching his attention, “something like this would be quite nice for the lady.”
He held up a gold chain, delicate, with a gorgeous cross pendant on the end of it.
The cross was inlaid with small, slender garnets, giving it a rather “bloody cross” look, but it was a stunning piece.
Momentarily forgetting Anaxandra’s embarrassment, Estevan took the cross and held it up to the light.
“How much do ye want for it?” he asked.
The merchant didn’t want to blow the sale with a big price, so he was hesitant to answer at first. “It is of great quality,” he said. “I purchased it in London from a man who brought it all the way from Rome. If the lady likes it, I will give ye a good price.”
“I like it. How much?”
“Two pounds?”
“Sold.”
It happened so fast. Estevan gave the man his money and immediately turned to Anaxandra, putting the necklace around her neck.
Before she knew it, he was pulling her out of the shop and into the tavern next door.
Anaxandra was trying to look at the necklace, so much so that she didn’t watch where she was going.
She plowed into a man near the tavern entry and ended up splashing his ale all over his chest.
“Clumsy chit!” the man shouted, cuffing her on the shoulder. “Watch where ye’re going!”
Anaxandra didn’t have a chance to respond.
Estevan was there and the man went flying, out into the road and landing heavily.
He was out cold, and whatever remained of his drink spilled in the mud, mixing with it.
Anaxandra stood rooted to the ground, eyes wide, as Estevan went after the man, grabbed him around the neck, and tossed him out into the street for a wagon or a horse to run over.
Only then did he turn back to Anaxandra.
“Come,” he said politely, as if nothing violent had just happened. “I’ll find ye something hot tae drink on this damp day.”
Anaxandra’s mouth was hanging open. He took her by the wrist again and pulled her into the tavern, which was low-ceilinged and dark.
There was a fire in the hearth, a few tapers around the common room, but the windows were covered against the rain.
Estevan led Anaxandra around the corner from the door to where there was a small alcove, shielded from the common room.
Unfortunately, it was occupied.
“Get out,” Estevan growled.
The lone man sitting at the table bolted up and fled.
That left the cozy little alcove empty, and Estevan indicated for Anaxandra to take a seat.
She looked nervous, her eyes darting about, but sat down as requested.
When Estevan tried to help her remove the crossbow from her back, she wouldn’t let him.
She didn’t want to remove it. He finally gave up and sat down next to her.
“Although we had something tae eat before we left St. Margaret’s, I find that I’m famished,” he said. “Will ye eat something with me?”
Anaxandra didn’t answer at first. She was still looking around, craning her neck to peer into the common room. “We cannot take the time to sit and eat,” she said. “We should not even be here. You know we must return to the abbey.”
He nodded. “I know,” he said. “But it will take some time for them tae bring the special drink I’ll order, so we may as well eat whilst we wait.”
“Eat what?”
“Whatever they have.”
As if on cue, a serving wench walked by, a tray with cups in her hands, but Estevan grabbed her before she could get away.
“The lady and I require food,” he told her. “And I need some ól. Does old Bartha still make it?”
He was referring to the owner of the tavern, the same man who was involved in The Butcher’s next door. At least, he had been involved the last time Estevan was here. Things might have changed. But the woman nodded to his question.
“Aye,” she said. “He still makes it. Let me take these cups tae the lads over there and I’ll return tae ye.”
Estevan let her go, watching her cross the common room, which wasn’t packed in spite of the people milling around outside in the damp weather. True to her word, the woman returned to him, wiping her hands off on the stained apron she wore.
“So ye require food, do ye?” she said. “’Tis a weak man who eats during the day, lad.”
She chuckled as he grinned. “True,” he said. “But ye have good food here. What’s ready?”
The woman put her hand on his shoulder, something close to an affectionate gesture. “Something tae please ye,” she said, all but ignoring Anaxandra. “Stewed beef with onion and carrots and peas. I can bring it and plenty of bread.”
“Then do it,” Estevan said. “And bring me a bladder of ól. I’ve a sick friend in need of it.”
The wench winked at him and headed back to the kitchen. Estevan returned his focus to Anaxandra, who was watching him closely.
“What?” he said. “What’s amiss?”
She didn’t answer him right away. She looked around, at the common room, before she was able to reply.
“This,” she said. “All of this.”
“What about it?”
“Why did you buy me that necklace?”
“Because I wanted tae.”
Her hands flew to her neck and she unfastened it, putting it on the table in front of him. “I cannot keep it.”
“Why not?”
“Because… because I cannot.”
“Ye’ll have tae give me a better reason than that.”
She frowned. “Because no one has anything like that at St. Margaret’s,” she said. “It is jewelry. That is only for the vain, and I am not vain.”
Her words may have been of refusal, but she moved her gaze to the necklace, staring at it rather longingly. Estevan watched her carefully.
“It is not for vanity,” he told her. “A cross upon yer neck is a symbol of yer devotion tae God. He would be pleased if ye wore it.”
His words had some impact, but she didn’t waver much. “You have not told me why you bought it for me.”
“I told ye. Tae show my gratitude for yer escort tae Dumfries.”
She shook her head. “I cannot accept,” she said. “Mother Michael would be very disappointed if I did. She would probably take it from me. And… and the other women would think less of me.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Because a man gave it to me.”
“What’s wrong with men?” Estevan said. “I know that St. Margaret’s is a nunnery, but ye’re not a nun. Ye dunna want tae be.”
“Nay, I do not.”
“Then what do ye plan tae be?”
Her features tightened, hard and stubborn as she considered his question. “That is no concern of yours.”
He gazed at her for a moment. He’d spent their entire journey trying to be kind to her.
His words had been polite, his gestures generous, but still…
still, she hadn’t softened. If anything, buying the necklace had made it worse.
Now she was acting as if he’d done something horribly offensive, and when he tried to get to know her a little, she’d shut him down.
Well, she had.
He was shutting down.
“Ye’re right,” he said after a moment. “It’s not. In fact, nothing about ye is my business, so forgive me for trying tae show ye some kindness. Forgive me for trying tae gift ye with something lovely because I thought ye might like it. I should have known ye have no sense of gratitude in ye.”
She stiffened. “I did not ask you to buy me anything.”
He rolled his eyes. “That is the whole point of a gift, lass,” he said, offended by her attitude.
“But I suppose ye wouldna know that. I dunna know what yer Mother Michael has been teaching ye at St. Margaret’s, but she certainly hasn’t taught ye manners.
She hasn’t taught ye tae be polite or gentle.
But I’m going tae wager that ye dunna even know what I’m talking of, so let’s leave it at that. ”