But she liked it.
The lightning she felt when she looked at him had turned into a smoldering burn. Every time she saw him, it burned in the pit of her belly. It was a thrilling sensation, making her the least bit giddy and she felt like a horrible person for it. She was here to do her duty and have her father released.
It was coming so she didn’t want to be released at all.
She rather liked it at Wybren with Kevin.
Still, she couldn’t remain. She knew that. Even if Kevin wanted to marry her, to which her giddy self would be more than agreeable, her father would never permit it. It was a disappointing thought, one of many thoughts on her mind these days.
She was a woman torn.
Juliandra had been out in the kitchen yard all day, boiling linens because there seemed to be an infestation of some kind in them, and in the entire keep. Every bed had bugs in it that bit and drew blood, so she put the servants on boiling everything, from the coverlets to the mattresses. Every chamber was being scrubbed with lye and then wiped down with cloths soaked in vinegar. If she couldn’t kill the bugs, then she would at least drive them away. It made for a very smelly keep.
Kevin had permitted her to bring on more servants over the past two weeks because Wybren was a large place and she needed the help to properly maintain it. Therefore, she had a small army of servants scrubbing chambers and boiling linens while still others were working in the kitchens, preparing the meals.
That had become her domain.
The majordomo, as it turned out, didn’t do much. He was left over from the last Lord of Breidden and he mostly yelled at people and then retreated into his chamber to drink, so at Juliandra’s recommendation, Kevin released the man from his service. That meant that Juliandra was now in charge of everything and, much as she did with The Neath, she ensured that Wybren was run most efficiently.
Among other things, that meant two meals a day were prepared, one at sunrise and one after sunset. The morning meals were usually the warmed-over remains of the evening’s meal, and the evening’s meal was always some kind of boiled meat or stew because it was easier to prepare plentiful food for the masses by making something that could be stretched by adding a little water, if needed.
On this night, they were having boiled beef, having butchered a cow from Wybren’s herd of hairy, long-horned cattle. Two big cauldrons were bubbling away in the kitchen yard, cooking pieces of butchered beef, while a second simmering cauldron contained carrots and turnips. The ovens of Wybren were going full-bore and the smell of baking bread filled the entire yard and inner bailey.
After the sun set, men began to fill the great hall, greeted by bread and butter and drink. In Wales, it wasn’t usual for men to drink wine, as it was expensive and had to be imported, so they drank what they had – fermented fruit drink, such as cider made from apples or even pears, or mead, which was fermented honey. Wybren, like most castles, had their own brew wives, and they brewed a pear cider that was delicious and had a powerful kick. They watered it down for those who became drunk too easily, but there was also the full-strength version which was much loved by the knights.
All of this was waiting for the men as they filtered into the hall and began their meal, while out in the kitchen yard, Juliandra was overseeing the final process on the beef and vegetables. Stacks of stale trenchers, broken into two pieces so there were more to go around, were being loaded with food as Juliandra headed inside to see to the meal.
The night was in full swing.
To be truthful, she liked it. It was much bigger and much more exciting than The Neath, whose meals were generally limited to her father and any guests he might have. His men didn’t even eat with him. There was excitement in a castle filled with soldiers, from the stories they told to the games they played to the singing they indulged in.
In fact, Juliandra had learned a few songs she couldn’t repeat, one titled Tilly Nodden and the other one titled Alice Had A Phallus. They were naughty, but great fun. She was rather sorry she couldn’t sing them to her father when they returned home, for she was fairly certain he would have found them hilarious.
If his daughter hadn’t been the one singing them.
Juliandra was in the hall, making sure things were going smoothly, when one of the gate sentries approached her and told her that there were minstrels at the gatehouse asking for shelter and food. Traveling entertainment was rare and always highly desirable in the wilds of the Marches, so Juliandra invited them in. They were brought to her, five of them, and she put them near the hearth to sing for their supper.
It was an unexpected occasion, having music while eating, and Juliandra was pleased with the evening’s showcase. Men were already enjoying their food as the minstrels sang and even acted out their songs, quite entertaining for the diners. Juliandra was watching from the edge of the room, near the servant’s entrance, when she saw Kevin and his knights enter.
Immediately, she waved to the servants, who collected the food meant for the knights. Just as Kevin and the others sat down, they were swarmed with servants, who brought them steaming food and that strong pear cider.
Juliandra joined them.
“It seems we have entertainment for tonight,” she said as she sat down next to Kevin. “I hope it is to your liking.”
Kevin glanced over at her. It was the first time he’d seen her since watching from his tower chamber. As his infatuation with her grew, he purposely forced himself to stay away from her, fearful she might discover his secret yearning for her.
“Everything you do is to our liking, my lady,” he said as she poured him some of the strong cider. “Ever since you have taken over the duties, the hall has never run so smoothly.”
Juliandra smiled modestly. “Thank you, my lord,” she said. “I enjoy it.”
“Do you?” he asked, jesting with her. “Because it is a great deal of work. I know, for I have seen how hard you have been working.”
“She has done a remarkable job,” Cal piped up, interrupting their conversation. He lifted his cup to her. “My lady, a toast to you. The most beautiful woman on the Marches.”
As Juliandra smiled hesitantly, embarrassed by the brash young knight’s flattery, Bannon spoke up.
“Isn’t your mother on the Marches?” he asked. “And your sisters? You have just put Lady Juliandra above them?”
Cal eyed Bannon with some distaste. “I cannot think of my sisters as being beautiful, although men have said that they are,” he said. “And my mother is a lovely woman and not to be trifled with, but she is also married. And my mother. Lady Juliandra is neither. I am, therefore, free to express my appreciation of her beauty.”
There was a hint in that answer, something that made Kevin take notice. Bannon had warned him that Cal had his eye on Juliandra, but he’d never seen it so plainly as he did now.
Bannon had been right.
He needed to stop whatever Cal was thinking before it grew into a problem. To put the man in bad graces with Juliandra, he looked straight at Bannon.
“Did he not say the same thing about that smithy’s daughter in Shrewsbury?” he said. “I seem to recall almost those exact same words. It seems to me that Cal has that speech well-practiced.”
Bannon picked up on what Kevin was trying to do right away and he happily jumped on the anti-Cal bandwagon.
“Those were his exact words, aye,” he said as Cal’s eyes widened. “It wasn’t just the smithy’s daughter. It was also the baron’s daughter near Wolverhampton. What was her name? Elenore, I believe.”