The Snow White Bride Read Free Page B

Kinfairlie.
    Alexander himself had sent to York for six cured hams, and the peasant children had foraged for the eggs of wild fowl. The musicians had arrived this very day with the hams and requested accommodation and alms for the season, which Alexander had not been able to protest.
    The most startling facet of all was that Alexander even found himself thinking in inventories. He tallied and calculated, concluding that there was food enough for the considerable company for perhaps four days, at which point, he would have a problem.
    At least the problem was four days away.
    Alexander marched past his astonished castellan, then paused at the top of the stairs. He snapped his fingers and pivoted to face Anthony, whose silvery brows had formed a single line of bushy reproach. “There are two casks of wine yet in the cellar, Anthony, according to the ledgers. Please have them brought to the hall and opened this night.”
    Those brows shot skyward. “My lord… ”
    “Do as I bid you immediately, Anthony,” Alexander interjected crisply, knowing that his castellan was as surprised by his command as his tone. “And be sure to taste the wine yourself before allowing it to be poured.”
    The wine would do his proper castellan good, in Alexander’s opinion. He strode down the stairs, the music lightening his heart, and resolved to have a measure of that wine himself.
    * * * * *
    A lexander was pleased to note how his sisters had brought greens into the hall, for he had been so immersed in his books that he had forgotten about this ritual. Hundreds of candles burned and the Yule log, a particularly massive specimen that would surely last for the entire fortnight, burned on the hearth. Mercifully, some soul had recalled this ritual as well.
    The hall was warm and golden, filled to bursting with trestle tables and chattering people. He could smell the roasted meat, and the musicians led the assembly in a merry tune. His sisters were adorned in their best and laughing at the high table. Even the sight of the unbound tresses of his three maiden sisters failed to trouble him on this night.
    Alexander might have paused there on the stairs to savor the sight, but to his surprise, the detection of his presence in his own hall was greeted with a rowdy cheer. The peasants of Kinfairlie rose to their feet, then turned and lifted their cups of ale in salute. “My lord!” they cried as one.
    They saluted him. Tears pricked Alexander’s eyes at this unexpected tribute. What had he done to deserve their respect? He had tried, to be sure, but the Fates had conspired against any success. Ever one for a jest, he turned and looked behind himself, summoning a hearty laugh from the assembly.
    “God bless the laird of Kinfairlie!” cried the miller, who had evidently been appointed spokesman. “The fairest laird that ever there was.” There was another ripple of laughter and the miller flushed. “I mean, of course, that his courts are fair and that justice is found in his courts.” The miller grinned. “Though my wife tells me that he is not hard upon the eyes, either.”
    The assembly laughed. “A wife is what our laird needs,” cried one bold soul.
    “Nay, a dozen bairns is what he needs,” shouted another, but the miller held his hand up for silence.
    He sobered as he held Alexander’s gaze. “It has been a year of challenges unexpected at Kinfairlie. Though none of us would have wished for the sudden loss of our former laird and his lady”—many in the company crossed themselves in reference to the deaths of Alexander’s parents—“I have been chosen of all of us to thank you for so boldly taking on your duties, sir.”
    Alexander inclined his head. “I was raised to assume this duty, as well you know.”
    The miller shook his head. “Few men could have faced this past year with such courage, my lord, no less with such grace and generosity. You serve your father’s memory well, Alexander Lammergeier, and may you prosper at