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To prove his point, he grabbed one of the spoons on the table and dug into the eggs, which were cooked very hard. The bottom and sides were burned. But he took a big bite of the mostly undamaged middle.

“Delicious,” he said. “Did ye make this yerself?”

“Nay,” she said, now pouting because her efforts had gone up in ash. “Lady Munro did, but I watched her do it.”

“I’d wager that ye can do it yerself and do it better.”

“Probably not,” she said, sighing in despair. “I told you that I am not a cook. I am not anything useful when it comes to a house.”

“That is not true,” he said, digging a hand into the other pot, which contained the very brown bread. He tore off a hunk from the middle, hissing when it burned his fingers.

“Look—the bread is fine,” he said. “We can eat it. I am certain it is delicious.”

He began shoving it into his mouth as if it were the greatest thing he’d ever eaten. Astria watched in fascination as he continued to pull out more hunks of bread, some of it burned on the bottom, and took big bites of it.

“Sit down,” he told her, mouth full. “This is a grand meal, lass. Sit down and we’ll eat it.”

Woodenly, she did as she was told. She sat down because he’d told her to, and he began to pull out more of the bread, break off the burned parts, and put it in front of her.

He did the same thing with the eggs, not even using a bowl, but simply putting the more edible pieces in front of her on the table and encouraging her to eat them.

Meanwhile, he sat down opposite her and used his spoon to carve out pieces of burned bread and egg.

He ate every last bite.

Astria was so surprised at what he was doing that she barely ate what he’d given her, but she managed to swallow most of it.

The taste was good even if the consistency wasn’t.

More than anything, she was awed by Payne’s determination to eat everything she’d made for him regardless of the texture.

Burned parts didn’t matter to him. He ate it anyway—he ate until there was nothing left in the pots, and then he burped louder than anything she’d ever heard.

All he did was grin.

“That was a magnificent first try,” he told her. “Ye’re going tae be an excellent mistress of the house.”

He had managed to make her feel better about the cooking mishap. “I will need to practice,” she said. “You know that in the noble classes, it is unseemly for a noblewoman to actually cook or clean.”

He nodded. “I know,” he said. “But ye did an excellent job of it. Ye’ll get better and better at it.”

“I hope so.”

He continued to smile at her, and she was a little embarrassed at all of the attention. Perhaps not exactly embarrassed, but she was so unused to it that she didn’t know where to look or what to say. This was all so new to her.

“I suppose I should clean these out so I can use them again,” she said, standing up and peering into the pots. “Although you have eaten every morsel. There is nothing left to save or clean.”

He burped again, loudly, before standing up wearily. “And I’ll do the same tae every meal ye prepare,” he said. “If ye put a pile of mud before me, I’d eat it because ye prepared it.”

She paused a moment, looking up at him. “You did that tonight,” she said. “There was little more than ash left of your supper, but you still ate it. You ate it as if it were the best thing you’d ever tasted, and you did not have to. You could have become angry about it.”

He shrugged. “Why?” he said. “Ye tried yer best. It was a good meal.”

“It was burnt.”

“I like my food burnt.”

She giggled because he was being so ridiculous. Sweet, but ridiculous. It was really rather wonderful.

“Then I’ll burn it every night for you,” she said, watching him grin. “One of the servants brought eggs and flour and some other items, but no meat. Where would I find that for tomorrow’s meal?”

He pointed off to his left, toward the rear door. “Did ye see the kitchens out by the dormitory?”

She nodded. “Aye,” she said. “I did see it. There were a few servants who brought us things from there.”

“A big meal is served there every night,” he said.

“Since we work our recruits so hard, the meals are always plentiful and full of meat. I’ll tell ye a secret…

if ye go tae the kitchen and tell them that ye’re my wife, they’ll give ye all the food ye want.

Ye’ll never have tae cook if ye dunna want tae. ”

That was the best thing she’d heard all day. “Why did you not tell me this before?” she said, rather peeved. “I would not have had to serve you burnt eggs.”

He smiled. “Because I wanted tae know if ye’d at least try tae be a wife,” he said. “There are a great many things around here that will make it so ye hardly have tae lift a finger, but I wanted tae know if being my wife meant anything tae ye. If ye’d even try. And ye did. Thank ye.”

She seemed both pleased and irritated at his explanation. “You did not have to test me,” she said. “I never intended to do anything other than fulfil my obligation.”

He shrugged. “I believe ye,” he said. “But speaking of obligation, we have one more tae accomplish together.”

He pointed to the ceiling, meaning the floor above where the bedrooms were.

Astria knew exactly what he meant, and her belly was suddenly filled with quivering butterflies.

She hadn’t thought about it all day, but now that the moment was upon them, she realized that she was quite nervous about it.

Without another word, she simply headed up the stairs.

Fighting off a grin, Payne followed.

The bedchamber was clean, smelling of the vinegar that had been used to scrub the floor, but it also smelled of mint from the linens. Payne took one look at the very neat and clean bed and nearly stumbled through the door, so great was his surprise.

“This doesna look like my bed,” he said. “Did ye steal this from someone?”

Astria couldn’t help but chuckle. “You mean from someone who does not like to sleep in a pigpen?”

“Aye, that someone.”

“Nay, I did not,” she said. “I had a great deal of help from Lady Munro and Lady de Reyne. They helped me clean it and restuff it. It is now fit for an earl and countess to sleep upon.”

He was both pleased and awed. “It most certainly is,” he agreed. “I keep saying well done, but truly, what ye’ve done today is remarkable. Ye’re a bright lass when ye put yer mind tae it.”

Astria went to sit on one of the two little stools she’d put in the chamber.

“The coverlet belongs to Lady de Reyne and I am certain she would like it back, so mayhap we can purchase fabric for a new one when we commission the building of a bed,” she said, pulling off one of her shoes.

“I do know how to sew. That is one thing I learned because all proper young women learn that skill.”

He saw the other stool and, pleased, went to sit on it himself. He tested it with his weight, approving of the fact that it didn’t crack or groan, before lifting a leg to remove his boot.

“Ye see?” he said. “Ye have proper wifely skills if one wishes tae live simply. Sewing is very important if I want my wife tae make me new clothing.”

She smiled faintly, pulling off the other slipper. “Speaking of wifely skills…” she said, lifting her head to look at him. Her cheeks were already turning shades of red. “You are aware that I do not have any.”

She was indicating the bed, referring to what they would soon be doing. He put one boot aside and began to casually remove the other.

“It doesna matter tae me,” he said. “That only means I can teach ye so that ye can enjoy it this time.”

Astria’s face was turning redder by the moment. “It was not enjoyable,” she said. “It was humiliating.”

“This willna be humiliating.”

“How would you know that?” she said. “Also, I am coming to understand that you have done this before.”

“I have.”

“Many times?”

“Enough so that I know what I’m supposed tae do.”

She paused for a moment. “Are you always so honest about everything?”

“Does it bother ye that I am?”

She had to think about that. “Nay,” she said. “I would rather have complete honesty than secrets. Secrets can be deadly.”

“That is true,” he said, putting his boot against the wall with the other one and standing up to remove his clothing.

“Secrets can kill many things. They can kill men. They can kill trust. And I dunna wish tae kill anything between us, so I will keep it alive the only way I know how—by telling ye the truth.”

She cocked her head thoughtfully, watching him undress. “Have you ever been in love?”

He pulled his tunic over his head. “There were times when I thought I was,” he admitted. “Men and women are sometimes stupid that way. Confusing love for just a passing fancy.”

“Is that what you did?”

He nodded. “I think so,” he said. “There’s no one lingering in my heart or mind. And ye?”

She shook her head. “There is no one now,” she said. “When I was very young, barely a woman, I thought I was in love with a knight who served my father. He had a wife and children and was at least twice my age, but that did not matter to me. I thought he was remarkable.”

Payne smiled at her memory. “What became of him?”

She smiled in return. “He went off to battle and never returned,” she said. “I remember seeing his wife weep and his friends sob. I always wondered if people would weep for me when I was dead, but I do not think so.”

His smile faded. “Why would ye say that?”

“Because I have no family to speak of and no friends. There will be no one left to grieve for me.”

“Ye have me,” he said softly. “I realize we’ve only known each other a short day, but it is, nonetheless, a day. The first of many. Do ye know what I know of ye so far?”

“What?”

He pulled off his undertunic, revealing his magnificent, naked torso. “That ye’re lost,” he said. “I’ve never seen someone so lost.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why would you say that?”