by McCall, Mary
He would make her get the rest she needed—starting now. For the next week, his wife would enjoy a complete sabbatical from work. She would lose her calluses, and she would have a new wardrobe as befit the lady of so great a holding. Everyone would treat her with the dignity and respect she deserved, and damn it all, she would learn her value.
A shout outside the window distracted his thoughts. He needed to head out and assess the mood of the Saxons. They had been cooperative yesterday, because he had saved them from Hadwyn and his cohorts, but he best make his mark as the new Lord Strangclyf, so they would know he wouldn’t tolerate defiance. Their new lord was Norman whether they liked it or not, and ‘twas time to end as many differences as possible between the Saxons and Normans. Then everyone could live in some degree of harmony.
Aye. ‘Twas time to see these Saxons cropped and shaved.
Stepping out of the chamber, he stopped as the two young girls rushed toward him.
“Where’s Mama?” Topaz asked.
“Can we see her now?” Sapphire added, hugging his leg.
“Shhh, speak softly,” Bernon whispered, shaking his head. “She is still asleep. You can see her later.”
“Is Mama sick?” Topaz asked, her pitch rising with anxiety.
“She must be dying,” Sapphire wailed. “She never sleeps this late.”
Bernon wasn’t sure how to deal with children but decided honesty would serve best. He squatted down to their level. “She is very tired after her long journey and she needs rest, so she will not get sick.”
“She isn’t dying then?” Sapphire asked, wiping a tiny hand across her wet eyes.
“Nay, and you can see her later when she wakes, but I want her to sleep until the nooning,” he ordered in a stern tone.
Sapphire threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Good morn, Papa. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Topaz said, slipping her arms around his neck from the opposite side. “Seeing as Mama is sleeping, do you want to break your fast with us? We’ll be polite and gracious.”
“I’ll not cause any mayhem if you tell me what it is,” Sapphire promised.
Bernon smiled at the pair. “Now how can I refuse an invitation from two such enchanting demoiselles?”
Lifting the girls as he stood, Bernon carried them down to the hall where he saw Ravyn at a table with Genius, Manuel, and Karl.
“Where is Mama?” Ravyn asked as they approached the table.
“She is sleeping,” Bernon answered, lowering the girls onto the bench next to Genius opposite Manuel, Ravyn, and Karl.
“She isn’t dying, is she?” Manuel asked as panic plagued his face.
“She cannot die too!” Karl wailed.
“Calm down, Karl. Nobody is dying,” Bernon said, moving to the head of the table. “She is tired, so I’m making her sleep late for her own good.”
The children all seemed relieved with his explanation. Ardith came from the common corridor, carrying a tray. “Good morning, Lord Strangclyf. I’ll just be setting this down for the children, then I’ll be off to get your morning fare.”
When Ardith returned she set a steaming bowl of porridge, flaky hot scones, a mug of ale, and a pot of honey before him. “Your lady wasn’t sure what you would like, except for the honey, so she told Mae to go with plain fare until she learns your preferences.”
Bernon raised a surprised brow. “How does she know I like honey?”
“Because you’re a bear,” Manuel shouted from the seat beside him.
“Do not tell him or it may not work,” Genius chided.
“What won’t work?” Bernon asked Manuel.
“Keepin’ you nice and docile by feeding you honey.” Manuel whispered and gave him a wink.
“I heard that and I’m tellin’ Mama you told him,” Topaz said.
Bernon ignored the other children and invited Manuel closer with a scheming grin. Obviously loving the attention, the boy placed his head next to Bernon’s. “Did your mama tell you this?”
“Aye, she did,” Manuel replied smugly.
Bernon raised a brow at the boy’s brazen confidence. “How will honey keep me docile?”
“Nice and docile. One of us was afraid you would be mean, ‘cause of you’re a bear.” Manuel stopped talking and gave him a see-what-I-mean expression.
God’s bones, this was like talking to Barwolf. “And?”
“Bears love honey,” Manuel said, wiggling his brows a few times.
“Aye, Mama says they will do anything to get it,” Sapphire added, not wanting to be left out of the great conspiracy.
“And once you get it, you will be nice and docile.” Manuel grinned, proud that he had gotten the last word.
“Now, children, finish your breakfast, and let Lord Strangclyf be eating his,” Ardith scolded in a good-natured tone. “Can I get you anything else, milord?”
“This is fine.” Bernon noticed dark smudges under Ardith’s eyes as she sat beside Karl and helped the toddler focus on food. He began pouring honey over his porridge. “Does anyone other than you work in the keep outside the kitchen?”
“Betia, my daughter, who is sitting with your Jerold,” Ardith replied, wiping porridge from Karl’s cheek. “She started working with us every day. Otherwise, ‘tis just me and your lady. The kitchens are a little better staffed but not by much.”
“Arrange a full staff from maids to serving wenches to alemen,” Bernon said, setting down the honey pot and lifting a spoon. “And tell Mae I want her to have a full staff too. Get them in here as soon as possible and get them organized. Also see about getting someone to whitewash the hall. My lady thinks ‘twill lighten the atmosphere. Then I want you and Betia to spend several hours every day resting for the next week. I left Lady Strangclyf sleeping. I do not want her disturbed until she wakes. And she is not to do any work without my permission for at least the next week.”
“Aye, milord.” Ardith beamed at him and her voice filled with emotion. “And I just want to tell you how glad I am that you have come to take care of her.” Bernon raised a brow at the fact that the housekeeper had mentioned his taking care of the lady but nothing about the holding. “After you break your fast, there be a few folks outside wanting to talk to you about your wife’s duties away from the keep.”
“All right. Have you seen Geno this morning?” Bernon asked then ate a bite of porridge, finding the taste pleasantly sweet.
“He is outside watching,” Ardith said vaguely with a grin.
“Want me to be your messenger too, Papa, and go get him?” Manuel asked.
Bernon peered at the audacious boy. “Have you finished eating?”
“Aye, I have.” Manuel beat a fist against his chest and forced a belch to prove his fullness.
“Then you need to go back upstairs and wait upon the king.”
“He says he’ll not need me until this afternoon, ‘cause of he and the queen are taking another bath.”
Bernon rolled his eyes, wondering if the king’s bathing chamber was even a fourth as decadent as his. “Then you may tell Geno to find Medwyn and come join me.”
Manuel leapt from the table and Bernon noticed a small rent in the boy’s worn sleeve as he zoomed toward the rear door.
Bernon frowned and popped a bite of scone into his mouth. After swallowing, he glanced down the table at the other children’s attire. “Ardith, my wife mentioned there is some material in the stores. Have you any idea if there is enough to re-outfit the children and make my wife a few new gowns?”
Ardith dropped a spoon and raised a surprised countenance. “I dare say there is enough to make entire wardrobes for all of them, milord.”
“Then see to finding some women skilled with needles to come in and see to the task. If you and Betia are in need because of the old lord’s penurious ways, then see to some garments for yourselves as well.”
He gave the order so casually that Ardith found herself gripping the edge of the table to keep from throwing hers
elf at him in gratitude. “I’ll be happy to, milord. Right away.”
“Are we all getting new clothes then?” Ravyn asked in a hopeful tone.
“Aye, Ravyn,” Bernon said, keeping his attention on his food. “Ardith, the girls will also need ribbons and all of them need new shoes. Ravyn, you will help Ardith today with controlling the younger children while you’re all measured. Then you’ll need to keep them occupied until evening. What do all of you usually do while your mother works?”
“We stay with different families,” Ravyn answered, in a stunned voice. “Today is Tuesday, so we should stay with Cora, but she’s the most skilled with a needle—except for Mama. She’s the best.”
“I’ll be getting Lori to take care of them today, milord,” Ardith said.
“’Tis about time you got up, slugabed,” Geno called from the rear door and approached the table.”
“Don’t listen to him, Bernon,” Medwyn said, entering behind his friend. “Geno has only been up about a half hour himself.”
“Where is Manuel?” Ravyn asked, a worried frown puckering her brow.
“Watching the men,” Geno said with a devilish grin.
“Come with me, children,” Ardith said, standing up and placing the used bowls and spoons on a tray. “We’ll go visit Mae, so his lordship can be tending to today’s duties.”
“What is going on outside that everyone is watching?” Bernon asked and took a draw off his ale as the children followed Ardith into the common corridor.
“You will have to see it to believe it and we refuse to spoil it for you,” Medwyn declared.
Bernon shook his head and set his mug on the table. “Well, whatever ‘tis, I hope all of the men are not occupied. I want them to gather the Saxons, so I can speak to them, then I want all the Saxon men cropped and shaved.”
Geno burst into laughter along with Medwyn.
“Tell me, my friend,” Geno said when he could finally speak through his chortles. “Why do you want to steal their virility and strength?”
“I fail to see the cause for levity.” Bernon sent his friend an annoyed scowl. “You know ‘tis my intent to end as much disparity between them and us so we may live in accord.”
“Maybe we should grow our hair then,” Geno suggested, then nodded, as if liking his idea. “Aye, we shall grow our whiskers.”
“Not too much though,” Medwyn cautioned with sparkling eyes.
“Only enough to be pleasing,” Geno agreed.
Medwyn laughed so hard he had to hold a stitch in his side.
Bernon growled at his vassal. “Please feel free to share your humor, Medwyn. I vow I could use a good laugh.”
“Take him outside, Geno, and do not persist,” Medwyn ordered, waving a hand toward the rear door.
“Excuse me, milord,” a disheveled Saxon said from the rear door. “I hate to interrupt, but I’m afraid our little lady will come down, and I’m wanting a word with you before she does.”
Bernon glanced at the gritty Saxon with stringy brown hair and nodded permission to approach then almost gagged. God’s teeth! The man reeked of dung. A statuesque blonde in her mid-thirties who was swollen with child followed, nervously wringing her apron in her hands.
“And who might you be?” Bernon asked.
“I am Leof, your lordship’s stable master, and this here is my wife, Cora.”
Bernon raised a brow at the woman who’d told his wife about magic and noticed she appeared kindly. Why had she pulled such a prank? He turned his eyes back on the Saxon. “And what can I do for you, Leof?”
“Well begging your pardon, milord, but you can keep your lady out of my stables, the smithy, the mill, the flesh shambles, and the tannery—as far as work goes, that is. I’m honored by her visits and so are the others, but we all do good jobs and none of us need her help. The other men were wanting to tell you too but didn’t want to lose their places in line.”
“What exactly does my wife do in the stables?” Bernon asked through clenched teeth.
“Cleans ‘em every Tuesday—the lord’s stable, that is.” Leof gulped then hurried on. “Mind you, on Monday, me and the boys goes through them real good, so she don’t have much to do, and I have built escapes into all the stalls for her. But we all think ‘tis a shameful chore for our lady.”
“Her father had her cleaning the stables?” Bernon asked in a steely calm voice that hovered heavy as the atmosphere just before a gale broke over the coast. Damnation, the snake’s crimes were mounting. The recreant would pay for every time his wife ever broke a nail.
“Aye, milord. I’m a plain-speaking man, and ‘tis the God’s honest truth that her father treated her mean. ‘Tis glad we all were when Padarn and Manuel told us what you done for her. You’ll be good to our lady, you will. And don’t you be frettin’ that any of us will give you trouble. We’re glad to have us a strong, just warlord here at Strangclyf again.”
“Just what did Padarn and Manuel tell you that inspired that opinion?” Bernon raised a curious brow.
“You washed off the blood so our lady wouldn’t fret, and now we hear Manuel calling you his new papa, and you’re lettin’ our lady sleep late,” Leof said, bobbing his head.
Bernon felt stunned. “And you base your opinion of me on how I treat my wife?”
“Not totally, milord. We had already heard from Aurick that you was a strong warrior who could protect us. Of course, then there is your lady and how she treats you. If the little angel is willing to risk her life for you by sailin’ her flimsy boat up the coast and back when she don’t even know how to swim, well, don’t you see? We’ll risk our lives for you too. If you don’t mind, milord, my turn should be coming up soon, so I would like to be takin’ my leave.”
“All right.” Bernon nodded his permission and turned hard eyes upon the man’s wife. “Cora, I would have a word with you.”
“Aye, milord.” Cora watched Leof leave, twisting her apron into a ball with her hands, then returned her gaze to Bernon.
“Walk with me,” Bernon ordered. He rose and walked with Cora tagging behind. When they reached the opposite end of the hall away from other ears, he halted and faced her, clasping his hands behind his back. “Would you care to tell me why you would tell your lady such a ridiculous tale about lovemaking? I would think she is old enough to have been told the truth.”
“Excuse me, milord, but I’ve not told my lady about such matters.” Cora frowned and appeared genuinely perplexed.
He snapped his brows together. Barwolf couldn’t have lied about this. She didn’t know how. “She seemed most emphatic ‘twas you who told her where babies come from.”
“Where bab...Oh dear, I had forgotten about that.” Cora placed a mortified hand against her cheek and raised contrite eyes. “I told her ‘twas magic, didn’t I?”
“Then you do remember. Do you not think you did her a disservice?”
“Milord, she had only seen six summers,” Cora replied in a placating tone, suppressing obvious amusement. “I didn’t think the entire truth appropriate for her tender ears.”
Bernon wiped a hand over his face. He felt a fool. “Six summers?”
“Aye, I was growin’ with my first and she wanted to know how my belly got so big. One of the stable lads told her ‘twas a babe in me, and she wanted to know how it got there. We’ve never discussed the subject since then.” Cora snorted back a snigger. “Would you like me to tell her the rest of it?”
“I already have.” Bernon sighed and looked toward the rafters. His innocent wife received her information as a six-year-old and never questioned there might be more to learn. She was right. Her gullibility was a flaw. He wiped a resigned hand over his face. He wouldn’t tell her. He couldn’t permit anyone to hurt her feelings, even him.
“Ship’s comin’!” Manuel bellowed, bursting into the hall. “’Tis flyin’ the king’s banner.”
“Cora, see Ardith about today’s tasks.” Bernon left her and walked toward the boy. He heard sniggers be
hind his back and shook his head. At least she didn’t laugh in his face. “Manuel, go tell the king his ship is here.”
Medwyn came back inside, exuding merriment, as the boy raced off. “The Saxons are all outside waiting for you and the ship approaching appears to carry half of William’s court.”
“The ladies too?” Bernon asked sharply.
“Aye.”
“God’s bones.”
Medwyn chortled at his angry reaction. How in perdition was Bernon supposed to lead men and subdue the Saxons when his first commander laughed at him outright? What was wrong with him the last few days? He used to be man enough to gain fear and respect. He saw Ardith enter from the common corridor. Even she wasn’t afraid of him. She had practically sainted him. “Ardith, how many guests can we manage?”
“I have some help coming,” she replied with a jaunty smile. “So we will manage as many as you wish. Mae will probably need more fresh meat to feed them.”
“Come on, Medwyn,” Bernon ordered, heading for the rear door. “Where is Geno?”
“Gone back outside to watch,” Medwyn said cheerfully.
“What in perdition is everyone watching?” Bernon pushed open the rear door and stepped onto the low landing then halted. Hugo and another soldier were wielding razors and the Saxons were lined up waiting their turns to be shaved and cropped.
“Morning, milord.”
Bernon cast an incredulous glance toward the familiar voice and saw a short-haired, clean-shaven, wiry Saxon. “Padarn?”
“Aye. ‘Tis my handsome face you’re seein’ to be sure. Bet you thought to keep this secret to yourself, but we’re one up on you, we are.” Padarn gloated, rubbing his hand against his smooth cheek. “I hope I have enough grown back come tonight.”
Bernon tried to wipe all expression from his face as he attempted to comprehend what he saw, but how could he? The sight was unbelievable. “What are you talking about?”