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“Thank you so much,” she enthused, seeing three men struggle into the hallway bearing the first of her wedding chests. “Could you please set that down in that room over yonder?” She pointed to the first of the doors. “I would be so grateful.”

She had just directed the second chest in the same direction when Lord Kentigern reappeared with his sister and cousin on either side of him. Without another word to Aimee, he swept past her, escorting his kinswomen up the staircase toward the private chambers on the first floor.

Aimee’s spirits faltered a moment, but she could not think she had done anything to cause him displeasure. Likely, he just wished to get his womenfolk away from the general tumult, she reasoned. Taking heart, she asked the ceremonial pole-bearer to unbolt the back door and to direct the thoroughfare out through that exit.

Then she stood smiling and nodding and dispensing with her pennies as their well-wishers trooped in through the front door of their new dwelling and then out of the back. Any bearers of furniture were directed to place the items in one of the two empty storerooms off the passageway whose true purpose she fancied were the pantry and buttery. Aimee saw with some trepidation that both rooms were soon full to bursting.

“Thank you,” she said loudly and repeatedly. “Lord Kentigern and I are so grateful for your well wishes. You are very kind,” she said firmly, stepping in front of one reveler who would have been happy to take his harp upstairs. “But I’m afraid the celebrations are now over for the day.”

If, during the first twenty or so times she repeated this, she thought her bridegroom would soon reappear, by the time she had dealt with forty or so, she had given up on that forlorn hope. No, he had left her here to dispense with the alms alone. She did her best to manage the stab of disappointment she felt at being thus abandoned on her wedding day.

She was being unreasonable, she told herself heartily. His sister and cousin must have traveled at least a week to reach Caer Lyoness. They had probably been wearied before the day had even commenced. It was only right that he should now see to their comfort as his first concern.

As for herself, she was no shrinking maiden who needed to be forever propped up by her spouse. She could see to this side of things very well alone. He paid her a compliment, she told herself staunchly, in recognizing that she, Aimee, was a capable wife who could deal with household matters without aid.

She was reaching the bottom of the second purse by the time the last of the attendants trooped through. She was just watching the disappearing back of one fellow in blue and wondering if she had not already paid him a penny once before, when the pole-bearer shut the back door after him and threw the bolt across. “That’s the last of them, my lady,” he said. “You must now bar your door after me or the first will be sprinting back around to the front for readmittance.”

Aimee accompanied him to the front door without voicing her suspicion this had already happened at least once. “Wait,” she called after him, as he stepped out the door. She emptied the last of her pennies into her palm before extending her hand to him. “Thank you kindly, good sir, for your services. You must allow me to give you some payment.”

He shook his head. “Your father hath already paid me,” he said. “I return there now to let him know you have safely arrived.” He nodded to her and turned with a stern frown to address the latecomers now approaching her door.

“Nay, you must not send these away, for it is my maid,” Aimee said, pushing the door open and greeting Golda who was weighed down with baggage and accompanied by a young lad of about ten years. “I am right glad to see you, Golda,” she hailed her servant as she shut the door behind her. “And who have we here?” she asked, turning to the young boy.

“This is Unwin,” Golda explained briefly. “He is the nephew of one of your father’s groomsmen and in need of a situation.”

“Which one?” Aimee asked with interest. Unwin shot a frightened look at Golda.

“Dickon,” Golda said naming the worst tempered of her father’s stable hands.

“Well, I am sure we can find you plenty to do here, Unwin,” Aimee said, her sympathies engaged at once. She could not imagine that Dickon was a fond uncle. Wordlessly, she passed the boy the three leftover pennies with a wink. Unwin’s eyes widened, but he clutched them in his palm without a murmur. “He seems a bright boy. I am sure he will do well here.”

“He’d better,” Golda said direly, and Unwin lowered his face, his shaggy brown hair falling across his eyes and hiding his expression. “Which way is the kitchen?”

“I think it’s through here,” Aimee said, feeling foolishly ignorant about her own residence. Together, they discovered the kitchen with its large fireplace and wide table. Golda set some sacks down on it at once and set Unwin to untie the strings.

“We’ve brought food and drink for supper. Your father’s engaged a cook and a servant for you, but they won’t come along until tomorrow.” Aimee nodded. “Where’s his lordship?” Golda added as an afterthought.

“He has gone to explore upstairs and assign rooms for his sister and cousin,” Aimee responded.

“Oh,” Golda looked askance. “He let you pick out which room you wanted first?” she asked. “After all, it is your house.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of rooms for all of us,” Aimee murmured, avoiding her servant’s shrewd eye.

Golda sniffed but directed Unwin to go out to the back in search of the well. “For all its so warm, we need to get the fire lit and get some water on for washing. I see we’ve one good sized pot at least,” she said glancing around the bare kitchen. “You’d better get along upstairs, miss,” Golda urged. “I mean, milady,” she corrected herself with emphasis. “I’ll send Unwin up with some refreshment for you presently.”

Aimee’s feet dragged as she crossed the kitchen to re-enter the passageway. Almost, she wanted to stay below stairs with Golda. It wasn’t like her to be so faint-hearted, she thought with surprise. Still, she could not help but reflect that her errant bridegroom had not once come in search of her. Banishing such melancholy thoughts, she peered curiously into the large dining chamber with its high ceiling and large fireplace. It was a fine, big room. In the center, a long-carved table sat ready and waiting for use, while the rest of the room remained bare.

Walking back along the passageway, she noticed the front door was now unbolted. Aimee reflected that at one point when she and Golda were talking, she had thought she had heard the front door open and close. On impulse, she tried the door and found it was locked. Did that mean her husband had gone out somewhere? As far as she knew, the two of them possessed the only keys. Her father had given her, her own without any attendant ceremony that morning.

Mounting the staircase with slow, thoughtful steps, Aimee reached the first floor and peered into a front-facing parlor which looked a pleasant room, for all it appeared rather bare, containing no wall-hangings or so much as a stick of furniture. There was a fine window seat looking out onto the street below which would do very well with some cushions on it.

Passing down the corridor, her steps slowed as her ears picked up the murmur of conversation.

“… Such pleasant, airy rooms,” a voice was prattling on. “So kind of dear Konrad to see us settled in.”

That was the cousin, Aimee thought recognizing her tones. She could not hear Magnatrude’s replies, but her new sister-in-law had a low, deep voice that likely did not carry so well as the more shrill-voiced Freda. Guessing that the next two doors down this corridor were their bedchambers, she passed swiftly on without disturbing them.

She had seen no beds carried through the front door, so she hoped her father had, had them at least delivered directly to the house. Trying the fourth door along the corridor, she was pleased to find an empty bedchamber that did indeed include a bed. It looked a little forlorn though, stood in the center of the room without any bedclothes.