Chapter Eleven #4
As Brandt and Ellowyn lost themselves in grins and warm glances, Deston and Annalora entered the hall.
The noise level soared with the two of them, their loud laughter and conversation, and the servants began to bring out the main course of the meal.
As Deston and his wife sat at the table next to Brandt, the table was set with an entire roasted pig, boiled apples, cherries soaked in wine and spices, pickled cucumbers and turnips, more bread with cheese baked into it, and great bowls of boiled carrots.
Ravenous, the diners plowed into the offered fare.
Ellowyn didn’t say much as Brandt and his knights tucked into the food.
She was more interested in watching Brandt.
After he served her first of the succulent pork, he helped himself to a great heaping pile and dug into it.
She was staring at him but he was trying not to stare at her.
In fact, Ellowyn was watching him so closely that she hardly remembered to eat until her grandmother, seated on her right, gently nudged her.
Picking up her knife, she tore her gaze away from Brandt long enough to spear a piece of meat. But her attention was diverted when she saw a thin young man enter the hall carrying a rather large box.
Curious, she watched as the young man took up a stool near the blazing hearth and pulled a large mandolin-type instrument from the box. He strummed and tuned his cat-gut strings.
“Papa?” Ellowyn caught her father’s attention, pointing to the young man. “Who is that?”
Brandt had been in conversation with de Reyne. He glanced over his shoulder at the man tuning the strings.
“He arrived a short time ago,” he replied, turning back to his food. “He is a musician separated from his troupe. They are all in Milnthorpe but he did not want to travel at night and asked for shelter. I told him I would feed him if he would play for us.”
Ellowyn was thrilled. “How wonderful,” she said, excited. “It has been a long time since we have had any music in the hall. Papa, perhaps you should think about employing musicians so they can play at every meal.”
Deston wriggled his eyebrows, making a face. “Too much extravagance,” he said. “You spend my money far too easily.”
“I spend your money on what it needs to be spent on.”
He guffawed. “Child, you are my greatest joy and my greatest expense,” he said as the musician began to play. “Someday, you will find a husband who will say exactly the same thing.”
Ellowyn knew he was teasing her but she wondered what Brandt was thinking about her father’s statement. She hastened to soften it.
“You complain too much,” she told her father. “If I spend a pence to buy wine, you cry rivers over lost money. Truly, Papa, one would think I have spent us right into the poor house.”
Deston was grinning. “I look forward to the day when I can laugh at your husband because you would do the same thing to him,” he said, glancing at the knights around the table. “Any takers? My daughter would be most happy to spend your money for the price of a marriage contract.”
“I accept,” Brandt said without hesitation. “She can spend my money and will have my blessing to do so.”
Ellowyn looked at him, eyes wide with shock.
Deston, still grinning, had no idea the man was serious.
“Are you certain?” he asked. “The woman has fine tastes. You will be a duke living in a mud hut with rocks for your bed. But at least your wife will be well-dressed with all of the frivolous things she will buy for herself.”
“As long as she is happy, that is my only concern,” Brandt replied steadily. He could tell that Deston wasn’t taking him seriously but he could feel the curious stares from his knights. “Well? Is it settled?”
Deston snorted, tossing aside a bone and moving in for another hunk of meat. “Is what settled?”
“That Ellowyn will be my wife.”
That brought the table to a grinding halt. By this time, everyone was looking at Brandt, including Deston and Annalora. Deston’s smile vanished.
“Your wife?” he repeated. “My lord, are you… are you serious? I was only jesting.”
“And I was not,” Brandt replied, his gaze upon Deston intense. “Ellowyn will be my wife. You offered her to the table and I was the first to accept. Now, will you draw up the contract or will I?”
Deston’s jaw dropped. “You cannot mean it.”
“Why not?”
“Because… because she is… and you are… you cannot be serious!”
“Again, I say that I am very serious,” Brandt replied. “Why do you find it so hard to believe? I want your daughter for my wife. I was going to ask permission in a more private setting, but since you made the offer public, you have given me little choice but to take my desire public as well.”
Deston just stared at him. His gaze moved between Brandt and Ellowyn, who looked rather hopeful.
Then, reality hit him. This was not a random discussion or something Brandt had accepted without consideration.
This was something that evidently Ellowyn and Brandt already had on their minds.
He could see it simply by their expressions.
That thought did not sit well with him. He set down the meat in his hands and wiped his fingers on his breeches.
“We will discuss this in my solar,” Deston’s voice was low. He stood up from the table. “Come with me, my lord.”
Brandt didn’t hesitate. He stood up and followed the man towards the keep entry and the small solar off of the foyer. When they faded from view, the table sat there in stunned silence. Ellowyn got up and ran off before anyone could stop her.
She headed straight for the solar.