“Alex.” Jerome put a hand on his arm.
“I am sorry,” Alex said. “I was not attending.”
“Non, I gathered not,” Jerome said with a grin. He followed Alex’s gaze over the main hall. “It is an excellent castle.”
The hall was soundly built, timber reinforced with stone. Horsemen on a hunt leapt across thick tapestries that kept out a great deal of winter’s chill. Fresh rushes graced the floor and crumbs of feasts past had been swept clear from the tables long before the start of the meal. A well-kept home, and goodly-sized. Alex had been given a room in the living quarters located over the hall, while household staff made use of rooms off the kitchens. And the nearby lodgings for Dumont’s men-at-arms were large enough to house the rest of Alex’s men.
He leaned back as a serving girl set a platter of venison on the table. “Merci,” he said, eyeing her closely.
The girl’s mouth fell open before she simply nodded and gave a short curtsy. He frowned as she backed away from the table and hurried off.
“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you are disappointed she did not swoon at your attentions,” Jerome said with a laugh.
“Nothing of the sort. I was merely seeing if she recognized the word.”
“Matilde told us the staff only speak English. We’re lucky she knows as much French as she does.” Jerome pointed to the old woman who had greeted them in the courtyard, now bustling around the room, directing servants. “She said her father was a merchant of sorts, and she learned French as a child before coming to serve the Dumonts.”
“Yes, but is that not odd? I would think Lord Dumont would have retained a few French-speaking servants.”
Hugh looked up from his cup. Still chastened when he had returned from his duties in the stables, his shield bearer had been quiet for much of the meal. “Are you suggesting they are refusing to talk to us?”
Alex nodded. “I can understand their defiance, but it bodes ill for our presence in England.”
He glanced at all the strange faces taking the meal with them. Someone here had to know where the Dumonts could be found, but Matilde claimed she did not understand him when he had questioned her again before the meal. And now, the other servants and guests were keeping their distance from the high table where Alex and his men sat. He kept an eye out for the gray-haired knight, who had not yet made an appearance.
He rubbed his temples. “I am not sure how we will be able to find the Dumonts if they do not wish it.”
“Worry not about the son. There’s not much doubt he was at Hastings,” Jerome said.
“Ha,” Hugh said with a sneer. “He probably didn’t even survive the battle.”
A heavy clank momentarily drowned out the rambunctious voices filling the hall. Dread coiled tight in Alex’s chest. The English surrounded them on all sides—it didn’t matter the majority of the Dumont soldiers had most likely fallen serving in the English army. Alex and his men were still outnumbered. And after the confrontation in the courtyard earlier, he would take nothing for granted.
Hugh and Jerome gripped the hilts of their swords. Alex scanned the hall for the source of the disruption, for a sign they would need to defend themselves. If their hosts regretted their offer of hospitality…
His gaze landed on Matilde, a heavy-laden platter at her feet. She must have dropped it. Hardly a cause for alarm. He sank into his seat, his men following his lead.
The tray’s contents had splattered onto the rushes, and a pair of hunting dogs snarled over the mess. Matilde flushed as she shouted commands in English to the other servants to help clean up whatever the dogs left. The older woman scurried from the hall after a quick backward look at Alex. He could not shake the feeling the parting glance was a condemning one.
Drumming the table with his fingers, Alex turned to his comrades.
“The son forfeited any inheritance when he lifted his sword against us,” Hugh continued.
Jerome leaned in, amusement twinkling in the depth of his eyes. “And I hear the daughter is a beauty. But she may be too high-spirited for you, Alex.” Hugh and the others chuckled, the tension from a few moments ago now forgotten.
“She might be worth the trouble, if this castle is any indication. Lord Dumont must be getting on in years. You’ll not have a long wait, Alex,” Hugh said, a smug grin on his face.
“You’ll marry that minx Dumont and be comfortable for the rest of your life, and us along with you,” Jerome said.
Alex’s stomach tightened, uneasy at coveting what William had promised when too many things remained unresolved. He pushed at the meat on his trencher with the tip of his eating dagger, all too aware of the hostile looks darting toward the high table.
“Dumont will see the advantage in having a son-in-law of William’s choosing, I have no doubt,” Jerome said when Alex remained silent.
Hugh surveyed the room with ill-disguised contempt. “Bah, William is too considerate of these English dogs.”
“You forget Lord Dumont hails from Lisieux and was one of the Confessor’s men. Surely this meal is evidence of that much,” Jerome said.
Alex had to agree. In addition to plainer faire like hearty stews and meat pies marking English cooking, the meal included elaborately spiced and sauced dishes reminding Alex of the grand meals he had enjoyed growing up in his father’s hall in Normandy. Back when he could still stomach such feasts and his father’s hospitality.
Hugh shrugged. “Mongrel then, if the Norman is such an important part of English society.”
“William must tread lightly if he wants to remain king of this land. Allowing the nobility to marry their daughters off to Norman knights will ease the transition,” Jerome said between bites.
“And you must not forget there are many other men William will need to reward,” Alex said.
Hugh took a sip of the small beer they had been served. “I suppose we must be grateful to William for thinking of you for this holding.”
“Yes, but not everyone can claim to have saved William’s life during the battle,” Jerome said. “No doubt he found Alex worthy of this estate, wife or no.”
Alex shifted in his seat. He hoped for the same things they did, but hearing it spoken of so coldly… He was glad Matilde had not remained in the hall regardless of how much she would understand of their conversation. He shook his head. “The Dumonts may resent William’s heavy-handedness.”
He knew better than to assume the holding would be worth an unhappy marriage. His parents had taught him that much. However, William seemed convinced Lord Dumont would be receptive to the match. And Alex, having no prospects of his own as the third son of a Norman lord, was thankful his gamble in joining with William paid off, despite his misgivings about the marriage. Perhaps he would be pleasantly surprised in both Lord Dumont and his daughter.
“I do not want the possibility of my marriage spoken of again.” Alex waited until he heard the murmur of assent around him. “After all, we must still find them.”
Jerome gave him a wink. “I hope you’ll like what you find in the lady.”
“Keep watch on your tongue, Jerome.” Alex stabbed at a piece of venison and ate, while his men busied themselves with their trenchers.
The harsh murmurs of the Englishmen and women in the hall rose in volume. Then a handful of men left the