She was offended, he could see that, but he clearly hadn’t meant to offend her. He wanted to make amends.
“She is more than likely the most valuable thing in all of Yorkshire and, I would suspect, the most beautiful maiden in all of Northern England,” Daniel said, loud enough for her to hear him. “If I was the marrying kind, I would accept your offer with great glee. In fact, I have never had a finer offer in my life. But the truth is that I do not even have a home. I travel constantly and that would be no life for a wife. Women want a home and children, and I could not provide that. It is a sorrowful thing to admit.”
Etzel sighed with relief, happy he’d not offended the man with his offer of marriage. “You understand that I had to offer,” he said. “She is the only thing I have of value.”
Daniel’s eyes drifted to Liselotte as she knelt next to the fire. He could see her profile with her upturned nose against the firelight. “She is the most valuable thing in all of England,” he said, quietly now. “But I am wholly unworthy of her.”
“You will tell me if you change your mind.”
“I will.”
They fell silent after that, drinking the cheap ale in their crude wooden cups, each man pondering the unexpected course the future had taken. Daniel, for certain, was feeling a bit of excitement at the future because he now had a purpose. He was a man who thrived on purpose, and on a challenge, and he considered the immediate future both of those things. Moreover, he was a man who loved to deal out justice, which Lord Bramley was sorely in need of. Once the man realized that the House of de Lohr had taken over Shadowmoor, he would think twice before continuing with his harassment. But, it seemed, the trick would be getting a missive past Lord Bramley’s men, who evidently watched the roads. Indeed, that would be the key.
As Daniel engaged Etzel in a conversation about all of the roads leading south, Liselotte was closely listening. She could hear just enough conversation to make sense out of it and it was clear that her father and Daniel were plotting to get a message through Lord Bramley’s net. It was something her father had not dared in years but now with Daniel’s arrival, there was renewed hope. Perhaps something could really be done. But she was distracted when a couple of serving women brought in the freshly baked loaves of bread from the outside oven, so Liselotte turned from eavesdropping on the men’s conversation to serving up the evening meal.
Mealtime at Shadowmoor was a bit different because one of the key components, the flat stale bread used for a plate or trencher, was noticeably absent. Trenchers were made from precious bread and since food was relatively scarce, Liselotte had a stack of reusable clay plates at her disposal. She had made them herself out of heavy gray clay found on the banks of the River Aire, not far to the west, that had been shaped into flat rounds and baked in the bread ovens until they were very hard. An old woman whose family lived at Shadowmoor, on the outskirts of the walls, had shown her how to fashion the plates. She was an old lady who had seen much hardship in her life and knew how to deal with it.
In fact, the entire populace of Shadowmoor had pulled together over the past four years, all three hundred and sixty-eight of them, to help each other through this difficult time. No one ever blamed Liselotte for Lord Bramley’s harassment. In fact, those who lived at Shadowmoor were quite protective of their young lady. But Liselotte felt guilty for their suffering nonetheless, just one more thing to feel remorse over in a long line of such things. It was difficult at times not to give in to the weight of self-pity.
As Etzel and Daniel weighed their options for sending missives, Liselotte collected the first clay plate and spooned a goodly portion of the thick pea stew onto it. Onto the stew she put the best piece of boiled mutton she could find. On a
“She is more than likely the most valuable thing in all of Yorkshire and, I would suspect, the most beautiful maiden in all of Northern England,” Daniel said, loud enough for her to hear him. “If I was the marrying kind, I would accept your offer with great glee. In fact, I have never had a finer offer in my life. But the truth is that I do not even have a home. I travel constantly and that would be no life for a wife. Women want a home and children, and I could not provide that. It is a sorrowful thing to admit.”
Etzel sighed with relief, happy he’d not offended the man with his offer of marriage. “You understand that I had to offer,” he said. “She is the only thing I have of value.”
Daniel’s eyes drifted to Liselotte as she knelt next to the fire. He could see her profile with her upturned nose against the firelight. “She is the most valuable thing in all of England,” he said, quietly now. “But I am wholly unworthy of her.”
“You will tell me if you change your mind.”
“I will.”
They fell silent after that, drinking the cheap ale in their crude wooden cups, each man pondering the unexpected course the future had taken. Daniel, for certain, was feeling a bit of excitement at the future because he now had a purpose. He was a man who thrived on purpose, and on a challenge, and he considered the immediate future both of those things. Moreover, he was a man who loved to deal out justice, which Lord Bramley was sorely in need of. Once the man realized that the House of de Lohr had taken over Shadowmoor, he would think twice before continuing with his harassment. But, it seemed, the trick would be getting a missive past Lord Bramley’s men, who evidently watched the roads. Indeed, that would be the key.
As Daniel engaged Etzel in a conversation about all of the roads leading south, Liselotte was closely listening. She could hear just enough conversation to make sense out of it and it was clear that her father and Daniel were plotting to get a message through Lord Bramley’s net. It was something her father had not dared in years but now with Daniel’s arrival, there was renewed hope. Perhaps something could really be done. But she was distracted when a couple of serving women brought in the freshly baked loaves of bread from the outside oven, so Liselotte turned from eavesdropping on the men’s conversation to serving up the evening meal.
Mealtime at Shadowmoor was a bit different because one of the key components, the flat stale bread used for a plate or trencher, was noticeably absent. Trenchers were made from precious bread and since food was relatively scarce, Liselotte had a stack of reusable clay plates at her disposal. She had made them herself out of heavy gray clay found on the banks of the River Aire, not far to the west, that had been shaped into flat rounds and baked in the bread ovens until they were very hard. An old woman whose family lived at Shadowmoor, on the outskirts of the walls, had shown her how to fashion the plates. She was an old lady who had seen much hardship in her life and knew how to deal with it.
In fact, the entire populace of Shadowmoor had pulled together over the past four years, all three hundred and sixty-eight of them, to help each other through this difficult time. No one ever blamed Liselotte for Lord Bramley’s harassment. In fact, those who lived at Shadowmoor were quite protective of their young lady. But Liselotte felt guilty for their suffering nonetheless, just one more thing to feel remorse over in a long line of such things. It was difficult at times not to give in to the weight of self-pity.
As Etzel and Daniel weighed their options for sending missives, Liselotte collected the first clay plate and spooned a goodly portion of the thick pea stew onto it. Onto the stew she put the best piece of boiled mutton she could find. On a
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