Free Border Storm by Amanda Scott Page B

offer no more objection, madam, but do not fear to offend me if you decide before long to leave Brackengill. I’ll understand if you should prefer to return to one of your daughters.”
    “I shan’t do that,” she said. “You clearly need me far more than Sarah or Philadelphia. Here, you,” she added more briskly, gesturing to one of the lackeys. “Bring Sir Hugh a cushion for his chair, and see what is keeping that fellow I sent to find herbs for the rushes in here.”
    Turning back to Sir Hugh, she added, “I find them rather malodorous, do not you? I believe some fresh herbs will help. But do sit down now, sir, and take your ease. Would you not like a mug of ale to slake the dust of travel from your throat?”
    “Aye, I would,” Hugh admitted, too tired to resist any longer and deciding that he would drink the ale and then go upstairs to change into something more suitable for eating his supper.
    His sleeveless jack of plate was flexible enough to be comfortable while riding into battle, but worn over a shirt of chain mail, it felt damned cumbersome by day’s end. He would be glad to exchange it for some comfortable clothing.
    Shoving a hand through his thick hair, he moved to sit in the now cushioned chair, smiling politely when Lady Marjory asked him to sit just a little forward so that she could readjust the cushion.
    “There, now,” she said, giving it a final pat. “That will be more comfortable.”
    “Thank you, madam,” he said. “Do not let me keep you, though. You must have things that you wish to attend to before you take your supper.”
    “Nothing that is more important than seeing to your needs, my dear sir.”
    “I require nothing presently save to drink my ale,” Hugh insisted, hoping that he did not sound as desperate as he was beginning to feel. “Surely you want to tidy your hair, at least. My lads were still bringing in your baggage when I arrived.”
    “The sumpter ponies fell behind,” she said. “I am quite tidy enough, I promise you. Shall I tell your kitchen people that you want your supper at once? Since you need not wait on my account, I believe you will be glad of it.”
    “No, thank you, for I want to take off this armor before I sup. My people know when to serve me. Moreover, madam, it is not necessary for you to eat here in the hall with me. Brackengill boasts no ladies’ parlor, but Meggie, my cook, will be happy to serve you in your bedchamber. I am persuaded that you will enjoy a degree more comfort there than here in the hall with me and my men-at-arms.”
    Since he had begun to take her measure, her failure to take even so strong a hint did not surprise him.
    “I shall begin as I mean to go on, sir,” she said. “I can scarcely hide in my bedchamber whenever they serve a meal in this household. Is it really quite necessary that all your rough men sit at table with us? I can tell you, such a practice is quite out of keeping with our London ways.”
    “This is not London,” Hugh said with more harshness than he had intended. Feeling instantly guilty in the face of her astonished expression, he said no more.
    She bowed her head, saying ruefully, “I spoke out of turn, and I must apologize. I should not be telling you how to go on in your own residence. And to think that only a moment ago, I was saying that I would not change a thing! What you must think of me! But do not spare another thought for that. It will not happen again. You will find that I can adjust to anything. Faith, what are those men doing?”
    Hugh had been staring blankly at the table before him, hoping he could thus keep a guard on tongue and temper. He straightened, saw the lads beginning to set up trestles, and said, “They are setting up the tables for supper, madam.”
    “Well, they must not make such a din. I will go and tell them so for you.”
    He opened his mouth to say that would not be necessary, then shut it again when he realized that at least for the too-brief time she spent