Chapter Four #2
“I would believe that implicitly,” he said. “You have shown tremendous bravery in the short time I have known you, an admirable quality. And you showed no hesitation in showing me that side of you.”
He meant earlier by the Thames. Ellowyn simply lifted her shoulders. “I was angry,” she said, realizing she was feeling rather bad for her behavior now that the conversation was becoming civil. Warm, even. “I am sorry if I was insulting.”
He waved her off. “You already apologized,” he said. “Further apologies are not necessary. I am as much to blame as you are. I am willing to forget about it if you are.”
She nodded fervently. “I am.”
“Then you will accept my hospitality tonight?”
She had to admit, the bed looked inviting. “I will. Thank you. You are very kind to offer.”
He continued to smile at her, his smoky dark eyes acquiring something of a glimmer. “And you are very kind to accept.”
Ellowyn giggled, something she didn’t normally do.
She wasn’t silly or flighty by nature, but the duke, in a complete swing of the situation, had taken her from suspicious to giggly.
It was rather remarkable, Ellowyn thought, but she didn’t give it much thought beyond that.
She was a little too naive of her own emotions to realize the man had managed to garner her interest.
“Have… have you eaten yet, my lord?” she asked.
“I would be honored if you would partake with me. As you are friends with my father, I would like to hear what you know of his valor. He has been ill most of my adult life, you see, so I do not know the man as a great knight. I only know from the stories I have heard. Perhaps you know more stories?”
Brandt’s lips twitched with a smile. “I have never met a lady who was interested in tales of valor. That is a man’s inclination.”
She shrugged, almost embarrassed. “I come from a long line of great knights. I can remember tales of my grandfather’s exploits as far back as I can remember.
And my father… well, I love him dearly and it is sad that so great a knight has suffered such bad health.
I am always eager to hear stories of his greatness. ”
Brandt’s smile broke through at the tender sentiment, something that, even an hour ago, he would not have believed her capable of.
He could see in that statement that she had a very soft side.
She was capable of deep emotion, like attachment.
He liked that side of her much better than the aggressive side.
As he gazed at her, softly illuminated by the firelight, he found himself thinking of all of the duties he had awaiting him.
The king was expecting his report as a result of the Black Prince’s wars in France, plus he had a meeting with his subordinates that needed to take place before they could begin moving men and material again.
So many things awaiting the Duke of Exeter’s attention, but at the moment, all he could see was a lovely red-head before him who had invited him to sup.
He wasn’t a man normally given to accept such a thing.
In fact, he made it a policy to avoid women in general.
Too much trouble. But her gently-uttered invitation had him thinking of accepting.
“Very well,” he agreed quietly. “It would be my pleasure to sup with you and tell you what I know of your father. We have had a few adventures together, Deston and I.”
Her entire face lit up happily and a strange, giddy feeling fluttered in his chest. It was odd but not unpleasant. It was another of those feelings that made him smile before he could stop himself, a trigger release that was quick and before he realized it, he was smiling in return.
A soft knock at the door interrupted the repartee, returning Brandt to the grim and imposing knight as if he were afraid someone might see him with warmth in his expression.
He didn’t reply to the summons, choosing to open the door instead.
A serving wench stood outside, a heavy tray of food in her hands, and he silently summoned the woman inside.
When the food was set out on the very small table, which leaned a little so the food slid to the edge, Brandt kicked the woman out and shut the door.
When he turned back to the table, he saw that Ellowyn had dragged it over to the bed. She was also trying to keep the tray from sliding over the edge. When she looked up and saw that his attention was on her, she smiled weakly.
“There is only one chair,” she said. “I can sit on the bed and you may have the chair.”
Brandt dipped his head in thanks, in acknowledgement, as he accepted the only chair.
He wasn’t entirely sure it would hold his weight, being that it leaned about as much as the table did, so he tested it out before allowing his entire weight to rest on it.
Meanwhile, Ellowyn had planted herself on the bed opposite him.
By the time he glanced up from the chair, he noticed the butt-end of a knife in his face.
“Please serve yourself,” Ellowyn said as she extended the utensil.
He took it without a word. The meal, as it turned out, was a mostly silent affair, but he didn’t mind in the least. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but it was as if they had moved past the rough introduction, the words of apology, and were now simply settling in to what had now become a tolerable association.
More than that, with all of the bad blood between them reconciled, there was a definitive warmth settling.
Brandt couldn’t put his finger on it, but he could definitely sense it.
He didn’t particularly want to admit it but the more he tried to ignore it, the more it would not be ignored.
As Brandt silently served both himself and Ellowyn, he realized at some point that he stopped viewing her as de Nerra’s spoiled daughter. Now, he was starting to view her as a woman.
And a very beautiful one at that.