Tatiana March by Surrender to the Knight

Author:Surrender to the Knight
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

The pale winter light woke him. Even before he rolled over on the bed, Olaf could tell he was alone. A fire crackled in the stone chimney. His stomach no longer roiled. He got up. His dirty clothes were gone. Folded on a stool he found linen braies, a shirt, a black velvet doublet and a pair of striped wool hose. The garments were too fine for everyday wear, and it dawned on him that this would be his wedding breakfast. Lady Brenna might have arranged a celebration. Through the small square hole in the stone floor, loud voices filtered up from the great hall below, suggesting some kind of a gathering.

He washed in the barrel in the corridor outside the laird’s chamber, dressed and climbed down the ladder. Apart from a slight trembling in his hands and a touch of dizziness, he seemed fully recovered from the effects of the spoiled meat. His belly felt as if he’d been scooped hollow inside, but he suspected it would be a while before he might want to eat again.

Glancing ahead as he descended, he saw the trestle table set up in the middle of the great hall and five people sitting around it, two on each side and one at the end. At least a dozen more, including a few children, perched on low stools and benches scattered around the edges of the room. The villagers from the dugouts, he gathered, dressed in their best but still a ragtag crowd.

When Olaf reached the floor, Lady Brenna jumped up to her feet. There was no separate dais for the laird and his family, but she had taken a seat at the head of the table. The chair at the opposite end remained free. Olaf’s lips twisted into a smile as she saw her outfit—the same as his, black velvet doublet and striped hose. At least she had left her hair cascading down her back. With the slender curves of her body, the ebony curls were more than enough to make her look feminine.

Lady Brenna gestured at the vacant seat. “Please, sit down, Laird Kilgarren.”

Olaf picked up the heavy chair. The narrow space around the table was cluttered with people, and he hoisted the chair high over his head as he circled to where Lady Brenna sat.

He lowered the chair to the floor with a determined clunk. “Stand up so I can move your chair out of the way,” he ordered.

A notch of rebellion appeared between Lady Brenna’s dark brows. “You want to take my place?” she demanded.

“No,” he told her. “I want us to sit side by side.”

A blush stained her cheeks. “As you wish.” She rose and started to drag her massive oak chair along, one inch at a time.

Olaf laid his hand over hers. “Let me.”

Lady Brenna looked up. The color in her cheeks deepened. She let go of the chair and moved aside.

The buxom housekeeper spoke. “Foolish is a woman who takes on a husband and then continues to perform a man’s tasks.

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