Chattan Bride

Chapter 4

The cook had been right, Isabel realized in irritation. She had eaten dinner alone and Alysandir had not sent word as to when he would return. After sending out a few servants to track him down, he was located in the stables, examining their cleanliness and upkeep. Knowing how the stable master liked to talk, Isabel sent dinner to him and had it set up not far from the horses, but not too close so one would lose their appetite. By nightfall, he had still not returned, though it mattered little to Isabel. She was engaged in rewriting the menu for the week and consulting with the cook regarding supplies. Harvest was fast approaching and that meant that storage had to be cleaned out and room made for what was brought in this year. Last year the kitchen complained that much food went to waste because the new was used before the old. Isabel created a system to prevent that from happening again, simple though the solution was, putting one into place had apparently been neglected. In addition, there were so many new recruits among Alysandir's soldiers that a shortage of beds and blankets occurred. Instead of purchasing new ones, Isabel discovered that with a bit of patching up, many items that had been put aside could be reused. On her list of items that could be recycled, she wrote the names of those among the servants who had a little too much time on their hands and would be put to work during their downtime. Isabel was low on writing supplies and was rather glad tomorrow was market day. Her attempts to be conservative in this commodity caused her to write in very tiny letters, that took up every crevice on the paper.

According to her custom, she laid her tartan on the floor in front of the hearth and reviewed her notes before giving them to the cook and made sure that they were clear so when she issued orders at dawn, she would not have to be confused about the meaning of what she had written the night before. It was dreadfully late, but she had to make sure this was right before she wandered off to bed. The door opened and Alysandir entered. He appeared surprised to see her. He sat down in the chair beside the warm fire and sighed. He had not seen her since she was injured.

"How was your day, husband?" she smiled up at him and then turned back to her lists.

"I am exhausted," he groaned. His head fell to the back of the chair.

"Are you hungry?"

"No. I had a sumptuous dinner, thanks to you, I presume." Alysandir looked down at his wife who barely registered his response, only smiling at her lists briefly. "How is your hand?"

"Oh, it is quite fine. It should be healed in a few days."

"I put the boy who injured you among my new recruits."

"That should make him happy," she said thoughtlessly.

"How would you know, wife?" he said with edge.

"First of all," she put her papers down and gave him her full attention, "any man would be pleased to be placed under your command. Second of all, you could see how eager he was to become one in a minute's time." Then she picked up her work and began reading it again.

"You have made this place quite lovely, Isabel. I am proud of you."

"Yes, you do have a lovely home."

"I am glad it pleases you." He was trying to say nice things to her, but she looked as if she cared so little about his conversation. "What are you working on?"

"Lists."

"Have you more of my faults noted on any of these sheets?" he teased and began to look at her work.

"No," she stated simply, "there isn't enough paper."

Alysandir burst into laughter wondering if the list of his faults was indeed that long in her perception. "In the world or just at your fingertips?"