Page 35 of Rogue Knight
“You speak the truth.” And he did, for he was ever cheerful. It was one of the things she loved about him. And given he was a soldier, engaged in gruesome endeavors, she considered it remarkable. Glancing behind him, she saw no one. “Are you alone?”
“I am. I had an errand that required haste. I did not want to wait for my men to break free from their swordplay.”
She opened the door wide. “Come in.”
“What is that heavenly smell?” he asked as he crossed the threshold.
“Berry tarts. You will have to wrestle Ottar, Finna and Magnus for one or wait to share one with me.”
He grinned and looked at her lips. “I will wait.”
They walked into the kitchen where three mouths stained with berry juice greeted them.
Sir Geoffroi laughed at the sight.
“Sir Geoffroi!” the twins said at the same time, their words muffled by the sweet treats that filled their mouths.
“We’ve plenty for all,” said Sigga with a nod to Sir Geoffroi, as she handed him a tart.
“Did you make these, Sigga?” he asked. “They smell delicious.”
“Thank you, Sir Geoffroi.” Then turning to Emma, “Will you have one, Mistress?”
“Mayhap later, though they are very tempting, Sigga.”
Sir Geoffroi took a large bite, closed his eyes and moaned. The sound was sensual to her ears. Did he make the same sound when he made love? She watched him chewing slowly, savoring every bite. “Oh, my,” he said, opening his eyes, his tongue running over his bottom lip. “’Tis food for angels.”
Sigga looked pleased. “Artur likes them, too.” The servant looked down at Magnus who was licking the berry juice from his mouth and snatching any crumbs that fell to the floor. “And the hound.”
The knight laughed at the sight of Magnus begging for more tart from Finna who could not say him nay but handed him a piece of her sweet.
Curious to know what had brought the knight to her door, Emma could wait no longer to ask. “Why are you here, Sir Geoffroi? Surely you did not bring us more meat? We have not even plucked the fowl you brought us earlier.”
He swallowed and wiped his mouth on the cloth Sigga handed him, then looked at Emma with a hint of uncertainty. “I have an invitation for you.”
Thinking they might need to be private for this conversation, she said, “Come, you can finish your tart at the table.”
Leaving the twins to their eating, they walked from the kitchen to the table where the family dined, the knight carrying the remains of his tart. Once they were seated, he licked the berry juice from his fingers before speaking. “The new castellan, Gilbert de Ghent, is hosting a feast tonight. I would ask you to attend as my guest.”
She was about to decline, when he held up a hand. “Do not say nay until you hear who will be there. ’Tis a private meal. The castellan has invited William FitzOsbern, the Earl of Hereford, William Malet, the sheriff, Helise, his wife and Archbishop Ealdred. We will have the new hall to ourselves. ’Twould mean much for Helise to have the company of another woman with all the other guests being men.”
Emma let out a sigh, feeling her brow furrow. “Except for the archbishop, ’tis a gathering of Normans. What place have I there?”
“You have a place of honor at my side, Emma. It would please me much should you come. Will not you consider it?”
He had done so much for them—for Ottar, Feigr, Magnus and her—and provided food when they were hungry. How could she deny him what was obviously a matter of some importance? Her father would urge her to go, if only to learn of the new castle and its bailey. But this latter thought was not why she decided to accept his invitation. It was the look of hope on his face and the way it cheered her heart to see it. She wanted to be with him, to bring him joy. “I will do more than consider, sir knight. I will go, and gladly.”
***
Geoff came for Emma with Alain riding at his side. The Bear would not attend the dinner with them, but Alain had asked to accompany Geoff to her house, expressing his discomfort at Geoff’s riding alone through the darkened streets of York. Mayhap Alain had the right of it for the looks Geoff saw on the faces of the people reflected their continuing disdain.
The sun was already setting when the two of them arrived at Emma’s door. Tied up in front of the house was a white mare.
“A worthy bit of horseflesh,” Alain remarked as he dismounted and came around to stroke the horse’s neck.
Geoff slid from his horse and joined Alain to examine the beautiful mare. “’Tis a woman’s saddle the horse bears. Emma of York is full of surprises.”A fine home and now a fine mare.
The front door opened, the servant Artur appearing as if summoned.
