I nodded to him in polite response. After all, he was my new father.
Rolf and Jarrod led the way, and I somehow fell into place riding beside Sebastian. I still thought him vain and sly, but he was also given to occasional acts of kindness and had forced several stops along the way so I could rest.
“Brace yourself,” he said. “It’s not a pretty sight.”
As we came over the rise, the sun—what could be seen of it through the thick clouds—was setting, and I gained my first view in the fading light. My hands tensed on the reins, and I heard Miriam’s soft breath of dismay from behind me.
Though Jarrod had called the place “a hall,” this wasn’t a term I’d have chosen. In my mind, I’d imagined something like a large two-story hunting lodge with a barracks, surrounded by a tall fence. Though I had been warned my new home was in need of improvement, I’d been visualizing a place that could be improved.
Instead, a squat keep upon a second rise loomed out of the surrounding forest. Even at a distance, its dark profile looked worn and ill kept. Its upper rim was uneven, perhaps with broken stones, leaving gaps like missing teeth. A single tower stretched into the darkening sky.
I kept my eyes upon the dwelling as we drew closer.
It was simple, barely a fortification, and more than a bit worn with age. Moss grew between lichen-spotted stones on its lower half. To one side was an undersized stable while the other held a mid-sized barracks with a clay chimney. Around all the grounds was an intact but decaying stone wall. The wooden front gate appeared solid—and was currently closed.
Sebastian glanced at me, but I offered no comment. I was lost for words. I could only imagine the inside.
Jarrod urged his mount into a canter, rode up to the gates, and called out. A moment later, a loud grinding sounded, like timber creaking across timber, and then the gates opened.
We rode inside to a small, muddy courtyard, and the flurry of activity that followed kept me from taking in much more. We had several wagons of goods sent by my parents, along with my luggage. Guards from all around me began dismounting as their captain, a man named Marcel who had traveled with us, began calling out orders for proper unpacking and storage. Large, growling wolfhounds stalked between the horses.
Jarrod jumped to the wet ground and called back toward us, “Kai! Get the women and take them inside.”
Before I knew what was happening, two strong hands gripped my waist, and I felt myself lifted off my horse. In spite of my misery, I managed to say, “Put me down!”
In mid-air, I found myself looking into Kai’s surprised face.
“I can dismount a horse!” I told him.
His surprise shifted to resentment. “Suit yourself.”
He dropped my feet to the ground and turned away from me to help Miriam. She was so utterly exhausted, she let him lift her down and even leaned on him for a moment to steady herself. Poor Miriam. What had I dragged her into?
Without delay, we were taken inside the front doors of the keep . . . and I was home.
The foyer and first passage were both dim, but then Sebastian was suddenly with us, and he slipped past to lead the way.
“Bring them along, Kai,” he called over one shoulder, hurrying ahead. “I’ll make sure the fire is stoked in the hall, and I’ll order some food.”
There was that word again: hall.
At the end of the passage, we emerged indeed to a great hall with a fireplace large enough that I could have stood inside. The sight of burning logs and the emanation of warmth filled me with relief.
In addition, half a dozen dogs came running toward us, wriggling and whining for attention. These were not guardian wolfhounds, but smaller friendly spaniels, and one of them leaped up into Kai’s chest. He caught the dog with both arms and smiled.
“Lacey, stop that. You know better.”
It was the first time I’d seen him smile. He held her for a moment and let her lick his face before putting her down. She was a pretty thing with long soft ears and a smattering of red-brown spots over white fur. Down at his feet, she continued wriggling for his attention.
Miriam grasped my hand and pointed to the hearth. “My lady?”
Nodding, I let her lead me to the warmth of the blaze. We both removed our cloaks and laid them near the hearth to dry—after looking for a clean spot. The walls were bare of any ornament or tapestry, and the floor was filthy.
Behind me, I could hear Sebastian giving orders to servants when heavy footsteps sounded, and I turned to see Jarrod and Rolf walk in. I supposed they had been seeing to the proper distribution of luggage. Rolf didn’t even glance my direction. So far, of my new family, I had exchanged the fewest words with him. Even sullen Kai had spoken to me more.
It was not an auspicious beginning to a marriage.
Two serving women hurried in carrying trays, and Jarrod waved me toward the table. “Over here.”
Miriam and I both moved to join him and Rolf, and I realized I wouldn’t be allowed to see my room and change for dinner. While I didn’t exactly wish to dine in a damp dress with my tangled hair hanging about my face, I was hungry and hoped fervently for a mug of tea.
In truth, anything warm would have sufficed.
I waited for Jarrod to take his seat so the rest of us could follow suit. He did not. To my shock, he stood beside the table and poured himself a mug of what looked to be ale. Then he poured another and held it out to me. I didn’t care for ale.
Of course, though, I nodded and took it, and he gestured down to a tray on the table. “Help yourself.”
The only items on the tray were two loaves of hardened bread and a half wheel of cheese with mold on the rind.
Sebastian had the good grace to look slightly abashed. He stepped in to begin cutting cheese and bread.
Kai watched my face carefully, and his resentment was unmistakable. He thought me a snob who viewed them all as far beneath myself, who viewed this place as far beneath myself. Perhaps he was not wrong.
“With your help,” he said slowly, “we can dine properly tomorrow.”
Without noticing his youngest son’s biting tone, Jarrod nodded at me. “The kitchen women have grown lazy. It’s your place to shake them into minding their tasks. You’ll see to it.” He paused. “I want to have guests here soon and not be ashamed.”
I was hungry enough to eat the chunk of cheese and sip at the ale to wash it down, but my mind reeled. These men expected me to take this bleak, decaying place and turn it into a home suitable for entertaining?
Could Helena even have managed that?
Maybe she could. I only felt daunted. No one had trained me to run a household. I’d been honed for other things—for watching and listening and helping my father to know whom he could trust and whom he could not. What did I know of organizing the kitchen staff?
After a few bites, I felt too exhausted to eat and set down my mug.