The Warlord by Elizabeth Elliott

Author:Elizabeth Elliott
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Bantam Fanfare Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

15

The sight that met Kenric in the great hall soured his mood. The meal was already in progress, though the servants should not have placed food on the tables until the lord and lady were present. Several of his men called out their greeting even as they tossed greasy bones and scraps over their shoulders. Kenric hadn't thought it possible, but the food actually looked worse than it did before he left for Penhaligon.

His men were testing him, appearing very certain their leader would not support his wife's new rules. If the food was any indication, the kitchen staff was also looking to find their limits with the new lord. He had no doubt that one and all knew the reason for his early return and of his anger with Tess. Very little to do with the lord and lady of a castle escaped notice. Now all of Montague waited to see how the wind blew.

If Tess saw this mess, Kenric was certain she would lay the blame at his feet. She'd doubtless hurl another insult about duty and neglect in his face. Frowning over that thought, Kenric motioned Evard forward with a crook of his finger. "Tell Cook I wish to see him immediately."

Cook appeared and hurried forward to stand before the baron, looking around nervously as he came to a halt. The noise in the hall disappeared as each man strained to listen to the conversation, their curiosity evident in their expressions.

"Remove your shoes." Kenric's voice was deceptively calm. When the cook complied, Kenric removed a small dagger from his belt and began toying with the weapon, flipping it over and over in one hand. "I see your toes remain in their proper numbers."

Cook swayed. "Aye, milord."

Kenric's gaze came to rest on a platter of food so congealed with grease as to be unrecognizable. "I suggest that will not be the case when my wife discovers you have served my men pig swill."

"A-aye, milord."

"Being a fair man, I would give you and your staff a choice," Kenric drawled, turning the point of the dagger into one of the table's knotholes.

"A choice, milord?"

"Of which toes to remove."

Cook's face drained of color. .

"On the other hand, my lady has been delayed for a short time." Kenric tapped the point of his dagger against his lips, as if pondering a weighty decision. "Your staff may yet be able to clear away this mess before she arrives."

Cook nearly stumbled to his knees, whispering his gratitude in a hoarse voice as he bowed low to his lord. "It shall be done, milord. The dishes Baroness Montague requested for your arrival are near ready."

Cook looked ready to offer an excuse for the slops on the table, then seemed to decide against the idea. Kenric waved his dismissal, waiting until Cook was nearly out of the hall before halting the man's flight with another disturbing question.

"Did you agree to prepare this feast my wife ordered?"

"Ah� Aye, milord."

"Then you would be well advised that my wife's punishments are those devised by a gently bred lady.

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