Hellion by Bertrice Small

vegetables, hard-cooked eggs, bread, butter, and cheese. Those at the high board ate from silver plates and drank their wine from silver goblets. The others in the hall ate and drank from wooden pieces. Afterward a bowl of apples and pears was placed upon the high board. The fruit both looked and tasted amazingly fresh. Hugh remarked upon it.
    “When we harvest them in October,” Alette explained, “I dip some of them in wax to preserve them better, then store them in a dry, cool place. Now in February, the fruit tastes as if it has been just plucked from the tree.”
    “ ’Tis very clever of you, my lady,” Rolf said quickly.
    “ ’Twas a trick my aunt taught me,” she returned.
    That afternoon Father Bernard began teaching Isabelle her letters. She was an intelligent girl, and quickly mastered the alphabet. Alette occupied her time at her loom, weaving a tapestry she had been working on now for over a year. Hugh and Rolf busied themselves going over estate matters while their two squires gathered up the new men-at-arms not on duty, and taking them to the armory, taught them the proper care of their weapons. The evening came, and outside the keep the wind howled as it rose with the storm. The hall became a trifle smoky, for one of the fireplaces did not draw well. The evening meal of bread, cheese, cold meats, and stewed fruits was setout. Gradually the hall began to clear of those who did not belong there, for at Langston the hall was only used for sleeping in an emergency. The servants slept in the attics above the hall, as did the two squires.
    Alette came to her daughter’s side. “I have had Ida and Agneatha prepare a bath for you in the bathing chamber. Come, and I will help you, Isabelle. It is your wedding night. While you were out today we moved all your possessions into the solar, which you will now share with your husband. Agneatha may continue to share my chamber with Ida, unless you wish her with you—but not tonight.”
    Isabelle rose, silent. She had forgotten about this other part of marriage. How foolish of her to have overlooked the fact that she would be sharing a chamber with Hugh Fauconier. Following her mother into the bathing chamber, she allowed the three women to bathe her, pinning her own braid as she stepped into the stone tub, saying, “What is that smell? Since when do I wallow in perfumed water?”
    Agneatha giggled, ducking a blow from the older Ida. “ ’Tis lavender, lady. A new bride should smell her sweetest for her husband.”
    “Men like this stink?” Isabelle looked dubious.
    “The fragrance will not be so strong once you have dried off,” Alette said quietly, “but a man does enjoy a fragrant woman.”
    Without the aid of the servants, Belle scrubbed herself vigorously, then rinsing, stepped from the tub, clean and rosy. Ida and Agneatha carefully dried her off, and Alette handed her daughter a clean chemise. Isabelle slipped it on, reaching up afterward to loosen her braid. She sniffed critically at herself.
    “I can still smell that damned lavender, madame,” she grumbled.
    “It is a fresh and pleasing fragrance,” Alette replied. Then she pointed to a small door in the wall that Belle had never before really noticed. “It opens into the solar, my daughter. You will not have to go out into the hall.” Alette kissed Isabelleon her forehead. “Good night, my child. God give you a peaceful rest.” Then opening the door, she practically pushed the girl through into the adjoining chamber, and closed the door behind her.
    The solar was the lord of the keep’s private chamber. Belle had spent little time here, for when her father had been in residence, he had allowed none but Alette the freedom of his privy chamber. When her father had been away from Langston, Alette preferred the hall, except at night, when she slept here. There was a fireplace; the narrow windows in the room were tight, the chamber comfortably warm. In fact Isabelle could never before