“What do you say, can we have the feast?” Chloe had been going a hundred miles a minute since she’d woken up.

“Aye, mistress. The figs are costly…” Merry looked uncertain.

“Do not worry. I will buy Richard more if he makes a fuss.”

Merry smiled and sent the servants to begin preparations for the first Thanksgiving at Bainford.

Too bad they couldn’t have mashed potatoes or the to-die-for cranberry relish Chloe’s mom made, but the rest of her favorites? They would come close. Instead of turkey, there would be chickens, pheasant, geese, swans, and…pigeons. Yuck.

“Would any minstrels come to play music?” she asked.

“Music?” Richard gingerly made his way into the kitchens. His leg must be bothering him again.

“For the feast tonight. It’s been raining for days and I thought we could use an evening of feasting and merrymaking.”

He touched her shoulder, his eyes lingering on her face. “Have you forgiven me?”

Chloe blew out a breath. “I’m still a little angry, but life’s too short to go around mad all the time. So yes, you’re forgiven.”

He stood close enough that she could see his pulse flutter in the hollow of his neck. “I will endeavor not to vex you.” He smiled at her, the muted blue tunic and hose making his hair even prettier.

She was wearing her gray dress with the apron over it so the dress wouldn’t get dirty while she helped prepare for tonight.

“You will try, but I know you’ll tick me off again,” she said. “I really wanted music tonight if possible.”

For a moment he looked sad, then he took hold of one of the small boys passing through the kitchens. “Tristan, come here, lad.”

The boy had black hair and huge brown eyes, he looked to be about eight years old. “My lord?”

“Mistress Chloe would like music tonight at supper. We will have a feast. Would you and your brother sing?”

The little boy’s face lit up. “Aye. We sang in the church until we had to leave.” And he burst into song, mesmerizing the entire kitchen, who stopped what they were doing to listen to the voice of the little angel.

“That was beautiful,” Chloe said when he’d finished. The boy blushed and ran out of the kitchens.

She smiled at Richard. “Thank you.” Then she gave him a little push. “Now off with you. I have lots to do today.”

He pretended to pout but left her to it.

“Will you show me how to make the figs?” Merry stood at the table watching Chloe.

“Of course. My favorite is cranberry relish, but no cranberries here, so we’ll have a fig chutney instead. It’s good with meat.”

She spent the day bustling about, checking to make sure the hall was spotless for the feast, and trying to stay out of Merry’s way.

Chloe had shown her the way she made apple pie after finding some wrinkled apples in the cellar. They had cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger, though she was careful not to use any more than necessary.

They were also having carrots and winter squash. Stag and fish for those who might not want fowl. And, of course, cheese, bread, butter, and jam. She had added spices and a bit of honey to the carrots, and they’d even made stuffing. Not exactly like home, but close enough.

If Merry and the girls hadn’t kept up a stream of constant chatter, Chloe would have cried at how much she missed her family. Though she was finally accepting the inhabitants of Bainford as her new family.

There was enough time for her to take a bath and dress for supper. She wanted to look nice for Richard tonight. The rain had tapered off, so she took the opportunity to go for a walk. She’d come to like the cold, brisk air—it woke her up after being in the warm kitchens all day.

It was foggy, the light mist and snow on the ground turning the landscape into a surreal scene. For a minute she had serious déjà vu, a fragment of memory from when she’d woken and thought she was lost in the fog. But then she’d fallen back to sleep. Though when she woke, she was in the past. Was it the same for Melinda and her sisters? Had they too been lost in the fog?

“Ouch.”

“Who’s there?” Chloe bent down to find two boys and a girl huddled by the gate, half frozen. There was no way the guard on the wall could have seen them through the fog. “Goodness. Why didn’t you call out to the guards?”

“We did,” one of the boys said, his teeth chattering.

The girl’s face was pale. “They didn’t hear us.”

“Come along.” Chloe helped them up and led them through the gates. “Where did you come from?”

They told her the tale, how their parents had died from a sickness and their uncle couldn’t afford to feed them. How they’d walked from the north a long time until they heard the beast would take them.

She stopped and bent down to look each of them in the eye. “Lord Bainford isn’t a beast, though you might think he is if you don’t obey the rules.”

They nodded as she led them into the kitchens. Their eyes were round as they took in the plethora of food.

“You are muddy and dirty.” Chloe pointed to the corner of the room. “Bathe first and then you can eat.”

She wasn’t sure they were going to do it—they looked horrified by the idea of bathing in the winter—but they smelled, and she wanted everything to be nice tonight.

To drive the point home, she loaded up three wooden trenchers with food left over from dinner earlier in the day and placed them on the table as the children practically drooled.

“Me first. I’ll wash,” said one of the boys.

Chloe ran into Richard when she left the kitchens.

“More orphans?” He looked them over as they scrambled to fill the bucket with hot water.

“You’re gathering quite the collection.”

He shrugged. “They have nowhere to go. I would have faced the devil himself for a bed and food when I was a wee lad.”

“You’re a good man.”

“Nay. I am not, and you would be wise to remember it.” He growled at her. Then he took her hands in his, the calluses tickling her fingers. “Though I daresay you have tamed the beast, my lady.”