all the difference.”
She had done nothing to make a difference, but she would take the thanks if it meant being bedazzled by his best smile.
“Thank you for the ham,” she said, then immediately felt stupid. Of all things to talk about. “My father appreciated it, even if he did not know from whence it came.”
“He could starve for all I care. You, however, should not be reduced to soup and bread. Lord Yves’s dog boys eat better than that.”
“Perhaps you can ask him to give me work as one, so I can grow fat as I grow old.” She said it with a laugh, but he did not join her with the merriment.
They partook of the sweets that followed the savories. Zander did not talk much to her or to Lady Judith. He seemed in a sour mood. A little thoughtful and a little angry if she read his eyes correctly. The Norse tried to engage her in more broken conversation, but she did not encourage him. Now that Zander had mentioned it, this man might well have dishonorable intentions.
Zander leaned far over the board and looked down the line of guests. Toward those girls. A small smile formed and suddenly his flames turned to stars. Good humor etched his face. She wondered which girl was receiving that smile.
She reached for another sweet to bury her hurt pride by indulging her stomach.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sir Hugo had fallen asleep. Right at the table, in his chair. He was not the first man to have the effects of wine bring him down before a meal ended, so no one paid him much mind.
It was exactly the development Zander needed. If he spent another hour fending off Lady Judith while Elinor accepted the blandishments of a Norseman who could not even talk, he would be looking for a good fight before the meal had finished. He already contemplated whether he could take down that blond giant if by chance they met with only fists as weapons.
Zander rose and walked down the table in the space behind the chairs. He stopped at Lord Yves’s spot and bent to the lord’s ear.
“Sir Hugo is snoring away, interfering with that lute player’s melody,” he said. “I would bring him home, but if he is in his cups, he might start an argument with me.”
Lord Yves peered down the line of guests. “First you tell me to invite him, and now you tell me he should go home.”
“Who expected him to prefer slumber to good company and good food?”
“I will find someone to take him back, just to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep in a ditch.”
“Why not ask your guest, that Norse knight?”
“Sir Bjorn?”
“He is so big that he could carry Hugo under one arm if necessary.”
Lord Yves’s gaze slid over and up to Zander’s face. “And the daughter? Lady Elinor? No doubt you have a helpful suggestion regarding her too.”
“Why should she suffer because her father can’t stay awake when he drinks wine? Let her stay. I will see she gets back in good time.”
“I’m sure you will.” He sighed. “Why do I think Hugo will want to kill you all the more very soon? Fine, either knights or servants will ensure Hugo gets back to his camp, and you will make sure the daughter follows.”
With a spring in his step, Zander returned to his chair. He smiled at the Norseman. “Sir Bjorn?”
“Ja?”
“Lord Yves requires your attendance.” He pointed toward their host lest the man not understand some part of what he said.
“Ja!”
Up Sir Bjorn stood, towering above the table. Down he strode to Lord Yves’s chair. Zander watched him address their host. Lord Yves bent forward and cast a dark look toward Zander, then turned and pointed in Hugo’s direction.
Zander turned his body toward Elinor. “Your father fell asleep, and Lord Yves has decided to have him brought home.”
“Surely, he can just walk with me.”
“It isn’t clear how much wine he drank, so better to have men do it in case he needs more support than you can give. Besides, this way you can stay.”
She made movements to get up. “I really should—”
“He needs his pallet, not a mother. Stay. I am told that the cook made a special almond cake. The castle folk have been drooling in anticipation all day and talking about little else.”
She hesitated. “Almond cake, you say?”
“Lots of butter, they said. And honey, I think. Does that sound right? I don’t make cakes myself.”
“It sounds just right. Perfect.” She licked her