Dark and Bright by Anna Markland Read Free Book Online

arms.
    ***
    Rhys heard a commotion in the kitchens. He and Annalise had arrived home from Cadair Berwyn only two days before. He was glad to be back in Powwydd, but grief hung in the air. His father and mother had been well loved.
    Was it his wife’s voice he could hear? As he entered the hot, smoky confines of the foodhouse, situated between the neuadd and the outer buildings, he had to force down a grin. Beside the huge kiln, Cook stood like a statue, gazing at the ceiling, his teeth gritted, his hands on his hips, his face even redder than usual. Annalise was holding forth in her language, her hands gesticulating wildly. Two scullery maids looked on, their mouths open, eyes darting from Cook to their new mistress and back again.
    Rhys took a deep breath. Would he be diplomat enough to handle this skirmish? A lot was riding on it. Annalise stopped in mid-sentence when she saw him. She was breathing heavily, her breasts rising and falling. He licked his lips. She put her hands on her hips and opened her mouth to speak to him. He strode towards her, his hands outstretched. “Can I help?”
    She closed her mouth. Cook looked at him and opened his. Rhys shot him a glare and shook his head slightly. Cook closed his mouth.
    Annalise took a deep breath and held his hands firmly. “I wanted to give some suggestions about improving the food served here, but this—this—man does not wish to listen.”
    Rhys looked at Cook, who had resumed his examination of the ceiling, his arms folded tightly across his chest, and then looked back at his wife. This was a delicate situation, and he had better not laugh. “Dear wife, explain to me what it is you want, and I’ll tell him in his language. He has been Cook here for many years, and his father before him.”
    Annalise glanced at the Cook and pouted, her eyes wide. “His food is bland. If he adds some herbs and spices, it will be better.”
    Rhys turned to the Cook. He cleared his throat. “The Lady of Powwydd compliments you on the quality of the food we enjoy here, Emrys. However, she has a delicate digestion and requires certain herbs and spices be added to the food to alleviate her distress.”
    Emrys looked at his new mistress and grinned. “Why didn’t she say so?”
    Rhys again resisted the urge to smile. “Your lady is still learning our language, Emrys. Be patient. You are grieving for my parents, but they welcomed my wife with love and affection before they died.”
    Emrys bowed. “I will indeed make sure my lady is provided with all she needs if she will but show me what she requires.”
    Rhys turned to his wife. “Cook says he is always willing to try new ideas. You have but to show him.”
    Annalise smiled at him, then at Cook. The scullery maids exhaled. Rhys left the kitchen holding his wife’s hand firmly, sure it wouldn’t be the last time he’d have to intervene in domestic squabbles.
    ***
    Annalise left the foodhouse with a heavy heart. She suspected Rhys had used his skills to calm the argument she’d somehow started with Cook. How was she to communicate with these people? She felt isolated, alone. Rhys wouldn’t always be there to help her. She would have to learn their language. Rhonwen would be hard to live up to. It was obvious everyone grieved for their mistress.
    Rhys put his arm around her shoulder. “What’s wrong, Annalise?”
    She stopped abruptly and buried her face in her hands, not wanting him to see her tears. “They will never come to respect me. They hate me. I wish I’d never left Normandie.”
    Rhys drew her to him and rested his chin on the top of her head. The aroma of venison from the kitchen clung to him. It mingled with his usual healthy, masculine scent that she was coming to know, and filled her senses. “They don’t hate you,” he soothed. “They are grieving for my parents. Change is hard. They will come to love you.”
    But will you, Rhys?

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Travel within Wales was difficult, given the rugged