Page 20 of Last Knight (Knights Through Time #7)

The innkeeper and his wife were arguing in low voices when Christian found them.

“My apologies for the damage. I have none with me, as we were robbed, but will send gold for your troubles when I arrive home.”

The woman whispered to her husband. The man cleared his throat.

“We have had problems with Sir Benton before. He will pay for the damage.”

“Might there be some labor I could perform to pay for a meal for my wife and I before we depart this morn?”

The innkeeper’s wife threw her rag down on the table, swearing.

“Both our girls ran off during the night, taking most of the food with them. Off chasing boys from the next village.” She threw up her hands. “How are we to feed everyone this day? I don’t even have porridge.”

“Do not worry. I will cook for everyone.”

The two of them gaped at him as he strode out of the inn.

He had seen chickens near the stables. Since his cook had been stolen away to Dover Castle, Christian had taken turns with his men cooking meals until he found another.

They drew straws to see who would do the daily cooking.

At first he’d left it to chance, but the food prepared had been inedible at best. He prayed that by the time he arrived, a new cook would be in the kitchens at Winterforth.

“What are you doing?” Ashley touched his arm as he looked behind a barrel in the small courtyard. He wiped the dust on his hose. They both needed a bath, but that would have to wait.

“Seems the cook and serving wench ran away with the food. I informed the innkeeper and his wife we would cook and earn our meal.”

“I can’t cook. I usually just—” She shook her head and moaned, placing her hands to her head as if it pained her, which it likely did, given the amount of ale she’d consumed last night.

“Never mind. What can I do to help?”

“Come with me. We’ll have to make do with what we can gather. Search for eggs while I catch the chickens.”

“If you say so.” She looked uncertain, but poked at a nearby bush. Christian noticed the disarray of her dress, and wished he had gold with him to purchase her a new one. When they were home, he would have whatever she wished made for her. A dress for each day, if she so desired.

While she searched for eggs, he caught several chickens, and was dispatching the last one when he heard a soft cry.

She was pale, holding the eggs in a basket she had found, a look of despair on her lovely face.

“Do you not have chickens…where you come from?”

“Yes, but they come from the store in a package. We don’t have to do that.” She pointed to the chickens he had laid at his feet.

“Where do you think the chicken on your plate comes from, mistress?”

“I know where they come from, I just don’t like to think about it.

Where I come from, you go into the store, give them money, and they give you a nice package with the meat already prepared.

” She was making motions with her hands as if to show him the size of the package.

“I hope you don’t expect me to pluck them.

I wouldn’t have a clue what to do, and I’m afraid I’d never eat chicken again. ”

“I would not dare offend your delicate sensibilities. There were a few carrots and onions left behind in the larder, and I sent one of the stable boys for milk. We shall have chicken pie this fine morning.”

“A man that can cook—now that’s impressive.” She grinned at him. “Lead on. I can chop vegetables. I can’t wait to taste what you’re making. Just promise me you’ll pluck them outside.”

“Aye. The innkeeper’s wife can use the feathers.”

She swallowed and avoided looking at the fowl. “Whatever you say.”

Not once had Ashley complained as she chopped the vegetables and aided him in preparing the pastry for the pie. The innkeeper’s wife rolled the dough out and put the pies in the stove to bake. He went outside to wash, yet when he returned he could not find Ashley.

“Have you seen my wife?” he asked the innkeeper.

The man scratched his belly. “Said she was leaving. Perhaps she no longer fancies you and has gone in search of a new husband.” The man looked at the door his wife had gone through and clapped Christian on the back. “I’d like a new wife. One that doesn’t shout or snore.”

Christian ran outside, a hand to his chest to stop the pounding.

Would she try to go back on her own? The sound of water made him turn.

There, around the corner, he saw her with her skirts hitched up, washing her bare legs.

For a moment he could not speak, could do nothing more than gape like a lad seeing his first woman.

She was beautifully formed, a goddess come to life.

When she pulled her skirts down, he ducked back around the building so she would not know he spied upon her.

Shifting from one foot to another, he counted in his head. Certain he had allowed enough time, he strode into the stables to find her talking to one of the horses, feeding the animal one of his precious carrots.

“You understand, don’t you?” she said to the beast.

“What does he understand?”

She whirled around, hand to her face. “You scared me.”

“I did not mean to. Apologies.”

She turned a fetching shade of pink. With her hair pulled back in what the future women called a horse’s tail— No, that wasn’t right. A ponytail. It did look rather like a horse’s tail as she stood next to the horse they had purchased with her ring.

“I was telling him about my adventures so far.”

Would she remember she had told him her secret?

“Your speech and dress are odd. I must ask, mistress—no respectable lady travels alone. Where is your escort? I saw no sign of them when I came upon you.”

She turned away quickly, but not before he saw the fear in her eyes. As he watched her, she straightened her dress, brushing at the dirt and stains.

“I ran away from home. My father wanted me to marry a wretched old man I did not love, so I ran.”

Christian frowned so he would not grin at the tale she spun.

“Do you not think your sire and dam will be worried for your safety?”

“No, they will be happy to be rid of me. I have five other sisters, and we’re very poor. It will be one less mouth to feed.”

“Did you steal what you are wearing? For ’tis a fine and costly dress. One fit for a wealthy merchant or minor noble.”

“One must do what one must,” she said as she lied to him. And yet he did not hold it against her, deciding to let her keep her secrets as he kept his.

“I cannot remember. Did I tell you about my family last night?”

She took a step toward him. “I’m not sure. It’s all a bit hazy, but I don’t think so. I’d like to hear about them. I never had— Anyway, I’d like to know more about you.”

He held out his arm. “Then come with me, aid me in serving the meal, and while we eat I will tell you tales of my vexing brothers.”

When Ashley served the pie to the remaining patrons, Christian watched to make sure none bothered her. The one she had slapped, Sir Benton, had left, along with his men, before dawn. Finished serving, they sat at a small table in the kitchen. He poured her a small cup of ale.

“Just one. I’ve heard it helps after a night of too much drinking. But then it’s water the rest of the day for me.”

“Water is good when you drink too much. I learned it well from my brother, Robert.”

“How many brothers do you have?”

“There are five of us, like you and your five sisters.”

But she did not take the bait, simply smiled, waiting for him to continue.

“Of course, I am the most pleasing. Then there’s Henry, Robert, John, and my eldest brother Edward. They’re all married, and all but two have children.”

What would it be like not to have family?

To be alone in the world, as Ashley was?

As Christian spoke of his family, he thought she should not go back to New York, where she would be alone.

He would find her a cottage, and she could do whatever she wished.

Though he felt ill at the thought of her married to another.

Yet as he spoke, he did not tell her about his brothers’ wives, not from whence they came. When they arrived home, he vowed to tell her, but while they traveled, he would remain the merchant.

The way she looked at him made him want to aid her, protect her. But she would return home, marry that dolt Ben, whilst he would marry a girl he had never seen or spoken to. Life would continue, and perchance she would remember him with fondness.

“I wanted to ask you about something you said last night.”

She paused, cup in her hand, a wary look on her face. “Did I? What exactly did I say?”

“You said love and relationships are hard. That you must labor over them.” Christian shook his head.

“I must disagree—my brothers and their wives are in love, all of them married for love. Whilst most nobles marry out of duty or to increase land and title, they all found love, and it does not seem difficult. Yet sometimes they bellow at each other rather loudly.”

She shifted on the bench, not meeting his eyes. “Maybe they’re just lucky. I think it’s only me who finds the whole love thing so difficult.” Ashley raised her eyes to him, a shy smile on her face. “But it’s funny. It’s easy to talk to you.”

There was a tear in her sleeve, many stains on her dress, and she was still the loveliest woman he had ever seen.

“Do you ever feel all alone?”

“What?” How did she know his thoughts?

“When you’re surrounded by people. Do you ever feel utterly alone? I do. All the time. But with you, I feel whole,” she whispered.

Christian did not trust himself to speak. He had dust in his eye, he told himself, as he rubbed his face with a dirty sleeve.

“Aye. I too feel alone. Until I met you.”