“Girls.” Christian shuddered. “What does one do with girls?”
“Just wait, whelp. ’Twill be your time soon enough,” William said before striding from the hall. “I’m for the lists. Who’s with me?”
His entire familywas gathered around the table. The ever-present loneliness Christian normally felt was replaced with joy at seeing Charlotte’s new babes. It was decided to change the failed wedding feast into a celebration of new life. The hall was filled with sounds of merrymaking as the musicians played, voicescarried through the hall as the men drank and jested, and his brothers teased him that it would soon be his time. In truth, he liked the noise. Winterforth was barren without the sound of children running about, stealing tarts from the kitchen. To have his family close was as much as he could ask for. He stretched his legs out under the table. ’Twas a good day.
Lucy draped one of her scarves around his neck and sat down beside him. “I’m sorry the kids played tug-of-war with the dogs and ruined your scarf. I made you another in blue to complement your eyes.” She smelled of wine and wool, the silver of her hair shining like the moon in the candlelight.
“I’m awfully sorry about your betrothed. We all want you to be happy. So don’t marry the next girl that comes along just because she’s available. Make sure you care for her. I promise, the wait will be worth it.” She brushed off her skirts as she stood, her gaze finding William. “After all, you’ll be married the rest of your life. Might as well enjoy talking to her.”
“I would be content to find one who would converse with me at all.” Christian watched her go then turned his attention to the other women, shamelessly listening while pretending to enjoy the music as the women spoke of womanly matters.
The boy who’d found him in the hovel ran through the hall. Christian reached out and caught him. “Where are you off to?”
“He ate the tart I was saving for later, my lord.” The boy glared at the retreating backside of another boy. One much larger.
Christian eyed the lad with a practiced eye. “He’s bigger than you, and I’ve heard no one can best him among the stable boys.”
The boy lifted his chin. There were crumbs on the front of his tunic, and they fell to the floor as he hopped about telling Christian what he would do to the boy when he caught him. Christian listened, making appropriate sounds until the lad was done.
“Might I offer a suggestion?”
The boy leaned forward to hear him above the noise in the hall.
“When he is in the privy, push him in, then run like hell.”
The boy grinned. “He’ll pound me, but ’twill be worth it.”
“Aye. ’Tis good to stand up to those who are cruel to others.” Christian hoped the boy wouldn’t take too harsh a beating. Standing up for himself would show the bigger lad he would not back down. And some days that was all a man could ask.
Christian spent the evening talking to the lads about swords and battle and all the chivalrous duties a knight must perform. There was a warmth that filled the hall. Not from the fire, but from those within the walls of Ravenskirk.
Charlotte had changed Henry for the better. All of his brothers were different. How might a wife change Christian?
Would she scream at him or be kind? Mayhap she would watch him in the lists when he brawled in the hall with his brothers, cheering him on. As the years passed, what would it be like to have his family all together? It was important his brothers and their wives thought well of his bride. She would be part of the family he loved. All the women were beautiful, and he hoped his intended’s visage would be pleasing. And when he made love to her, she would not turn away, but enjoy the act that would result in sons.
The merrymaking continued long into the night, and Christian was the last to retire to his chamber. As he stepped over men sleeping in the hall, he stopped to admire the painting Jennifer had done of Henry, Charlotte, and their son. Beside it was a painting of Ravenskirk Elizabeth had painted. He would ask them to paint his home and family when the time came.
The next mornChristian fussed over Charlotte and the babes, slapped Henry on the back, and filched the remaining tarts. He gave one to the lad who had tracked him to the hut. The boy had a black eye and split lip, but was otherwise unharmed.
“How did you fare?”
The boy grinned and sat on the stone wall facing the lists.
“You should have seen him. Splash. He flailed about, screaming like a wee girl. Didn’t know he couldn’t swim.”
The boy hitched up his hose. “I fished ’em out and said don’t ever cross me again.”
“Good for you. Where is he now?”
“Skulking about.” The lad held his nose. “In all me life I’ve never smelled such a stench.”
The scarf Lucy had crocheted Christian was warm as the wind whipped through the courtyard. His family had come out to see him off. A lump formed in his throat at the thought of leaving them and traveling to Winterforth alone.
“Dust. I’ve dust in my eye.”
Edward simply smiled and for once didn’t say anything, which told Christian they all knew how he was feeling.
“Send word when you’ve arrived home.”
