Jorgen bowed one last time to the margrave, then followed Ulrich, whose face was red and pinched, as if he were tasting something bitter.
At least Odette would be pleased when she learned that the poor would receive a great bounty of hares in the next few days.
10
ODETTE ARRIVED AT the dinner party with Peter and Anna. She was awed upon entering the Burgomeister’s home to find it even larger and more luxuriously furnished than Rutger’s.
At one point Odette noticed Rutger and Mathis’s father speaking to each other in a corner by themselves. Then Herr Papendorp led Rutger out the back door, and they disappeared.
“Odette,” Mathis said, brushing against her arm as he appeared at her side. “You don’t seem to be enjoying this party as much as the last one. I am so sorry there is no music. My father says he cannot hear what anyone is saying if musicians are playing, so he never has dancing at his parties.” Mathis quirked an eyebrow at his father’s failure as a host. “Can I get you anything? Anna? Something to drink?”
Before they could answer, Mathis motioned for a servant carrying goblets of wine on a tray. He took two and gave them to Odette and Anna.
While Mathis talked, Odette sipped her wine. She remembered the cutting words of the woman who had been their cook for the past ten years. Would she be wrong to reject Mathis if he should ask her to marry him? Could she marry Mathis? He was charming and young. Cook thought she was selfish not to marry someone rich. Perhaps Rutger would finally marry if Odette was out of the way. He was thirty-five years old, not too old to get a desirable wife.
But should she allow their cook to influence her thoughts about something as serious as marriage? Cook would not have to live Odette’s life if she pushed her into making a poor choice of husband. Only Odette would have to face the consequences.
“It’s a pity,” Mathis went on, “we don’t have any music. I would love to dance with you again.” He drew closer, and she noticed the gray flecks in his light-blue eyes. Certainly, he was not unattractive. Most women would think him handsome.
“Mathis! Come here and tell this man what you said about the mules and horses my men brought from Spain.” An older man motioned him over to where he stood with two other men, all elaborately dressed in the latest fashions—brightly colored robes with fur trim and long liripipes hanging from their hats and hoods.
“Excuse me.” Mathis looked reluctant but moved away from Odette and Anna and joined the three men across the room.
Peter drew near. “Anna, darling, come and meet someone. It will not take long.” And then Odette was left alone with her thoughts.
Unlike Mathis, she would rather talk than dance, knowing she would soon be out on her nightly hunt—or perhaps it was because Jorgen was not here to dance with her. But she should not be thinking about him like that. Sleeping in the daytime was difficult, and she had not been sleeping well, plagued with bad dreams. Besides, talking with Jorgen had been even more pleasant than dancing. Her mind so often went back to their conversation in the tiny garden behind her house. She would see him tomorrow.
“What is going on inside that fair head, Odette?” Mathis had gotten rid of the interloper and was leaning close to her again.
She laughed, a nervous sound. “Nothing very noteworthy.”
“I am sure that cannot be true. You must have many noteworthy thoughts.” He grinned. “Since we cannot dance, I would wish you to come with me to the inner courtyard. I have something to show you there.” Without waiting for her answer, he took her hand and slipped it into the crook of his arm and led her out of the large room and down a short corridor and into the twilight of the open courtyard.
Perhaps Odette should have refused to go with him, as she was very aware that she was leaving the safety of the crowd. Even though she and Jorgen had gone out into the garden at her birthday dinner, other people had been in the garden as well, and she was not sure she trusted Mathis as much as she trusted Jorgen.
Mathis pulled her into the relative darkness. “Our gardener plants beautiful flowers out here.”
She glimpsed a few men standing around a small pony penned at the other end of the courtyard. They appeared to be discussing the animal. Seeing other people made her breathe more freely.
Mathis led her to some large pots overflowing with flowers. One pot was filled with red geraniums that shone bright in the nearly dark courtyard. Another pot was home to a rosebush with several pink flowers.
“My mother loves roses, and my father likes to indulge her.” He was looking at her and not the flowers. “Do you like them?”