by McCall, Mary
“You know, how the feel of rough stubble rubbing against a woman’s soft flesh excites her passions.” Padarn gave Bernon a sly look. “Hugo let me in on it. Was planning to surprise my Lori tonight, but she came to see Ardith and about fainted at the sight of me hairless self, so I had to let her in on the secret. Should have known better.” He shook his head. “She blathered to a few of her friends and the women been dragging their men down here ever since. Poor Hugo ain’t even had no time to stop for ale.” He squinted up at Bernon. “May need to get us a full-time barber here at Strangclyf, milord. I may just do it too.” He massaged his lower back. “My back ails me sometimes, you know.”
Medwyn laughed at the sight of Bernon’s shock and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Think we can live harmoniously as Normans and Saxons, Bernon?”
Padarn glanced out to the sea and peered at the ship. “If the people in that ship are friends of yours, milord, then you might want to send Claud out to guide them through the wall before they wreck.”
“What are you talking about now, for God’s sake?” Bernon finally shrugged Medwyn’s arm off his shoulder, earning another chuckle.
“Got us an underwater wall of iron pikes about fifty yards out—only two openings,” Padarn replied. “Claud is your sea commander, and he docked with the fleet in the wee hours of the morn. He can guide them through.”
Hell, he had a sea fleet! Why in perdition had William left out that bit of information? “Medwyn, go with Padarn and find this Claud. Then go out with him, so he can bring the ship to dock.”
“Aye, Bernon,” the warrior said, turning away, still smiling over the morning’s jest.
“And, Medwyn, when my wife wakes, you will stay with her and watch out for vultures and snakes. She is not to do any work either.”
“I’ll see to it. Are you going to be around?”
“I’m going to get Geno and some men, so we can hunt for the meat we’ll need to feed all these extra mouths.” Bernon headed toward the stables and called over his shoulder, “Tell Balen and Damon to get their stories straight about how they lost my wife before I return.”
~ * ~
Sleep hesitated to release its hold on Barwolf. She snuggled under the covers with a delicious smile on her lips and hugged Bernon tighter. He sure felt soft this morning. Slitting open her eyes, she pulled the covers from her head and saw the pillow in her arms. Warm rays of light streamed into the chamber. She blinked at the brightness then looked around and saw she was alone. From the look of the light she determined ‘twas well past the nooning.
Zut! Zut! Zut! She never slept this late. How could she ever hope to please Bernon if she couldn’t get her lazy bottom out of bed? And why hadn’t Ardith or one of the children warned her she was sleeping the daylight hours away? She’d never get all her chores done.
Barwolf kicked the covers back and groaned as a throb pounded a stinging rhythm between her legs. She needed a warm bath to soak her agonized privates.
A fiery blush heated her entire body as she remembered just how her unmentionables got in this condition. How could she ever get past her embarrassment and face Bernon again?
Nay, she would not be embarrassed. He had said she pleased him. Did he really mean it? The man made her feel like she was a treasure instead of a burden. What if he wanted to work more magic when he saw her? She groaned and buried her face in the pillow. She would die if he did. Would he be displeased with her if she didn’t cooperate?
Well, zut! He was bound to be upset with her if she didn’t get her slothful self out of bed and get her chores done. She gritted her teeth, rose, and made her way down to the bath, taking tiny steps and cursing in three different languages.
After soaking her tender self for three quarters of an hour, she dried off and donned her gold shift and a black kirtle. She retrieved her pouch from Jupiter’s Hall and fastened the black and gold braided girdle around her, so it rested against the tilt of her hips. Then she secured the pearl-handled dagger in a loop on her girdle.
She gathered the used bath sheets into a basket and carried the laundry with her up to the master chamber. She would have to visit Mae and borrow one of her aprons from the kitchen, so she could protect her fine new clothes while doing her chores. Heading down to the hall with her load, she stopped in the foyer just inside the tower and stared. Who were all these people and what were they doing at Strangclyf?
She spotted Balen and Damon in the throng and realized William’s court had followed the king. Zut and a half! Now she would have even more mouths to feed. Just how was she supposed to fit hunting into her schedule of chores on a Tuesday when she had already slept most of the day away? Oh Lord, she should probably apologize to Balen and Damon, but she didn’t want to face them.
Ardith crossed the hall and joined her. “Good day, milady. ‘Tis good to see you rested and looking so grand in your finery. I’ll take that,” she said, reaching for the basket. “You’ll not want to be spoiling your beautiful clothes.”
“Are you sure you have time, Ardith?” Barwolf asked, relinquishing her load. “I know my sleeping late must have put you behind schedule too.”
“Don’t you be frettin’ for me. I’m doing fine.” Ardith settled the basket against her hip, holding it in place with one arm.
“I forgot to tell you yesterday how much I love you.”
“Ah, lamb,” Ardith said, caressing Barwolf’s cheek. “You told me with your eyes, and ‘tis best not to be sayin’ the words anymore. ‘Tis time you learn you’re more than a servant and too good to be lovin’ the likes of me.” Ardith drew back her hand and blinked against tears. “We have almost a full staff now from aleman to serving maid, and Mae has a full staff too.”
“Bernon is really letting us have help then?” Barwolf asked then grinned. “Never mind. I knew he would. Did I not say everything would work out?”
“Aye. Now why don’t you come with me, and I’ll see about getting you something to break your fast?”
“’Tis no need, Ardith. I’ll just visit Mae and get something from her.” Barwolf frowned at the crowd and shook her head. “I need to find out how she is set with meat, so I’ll know how much to hunt for tonight’s celebration.”
“No need for you to bother. Lord Strangclyf’s out hunting now.”
“Then I had better get over to the stables, or I’ll—”
“Nay, milady. His lordship says you’re not to do any work without his permission. You’re to rest today.” Ardith nodded once, showing her approval of the decree.
“But what about all my chores?” Barwolf raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m already so far behind that I’ll never catch up.”
“All your chores have been reassigned. You have none.”
“He took away all my duties?” she asked in a choked voice.
“Aye.” Ardith smiled, seemingly oblivious to Barwolf’s distress. “He has even got some of the women sewing new wardrobes for you and the children.”
“I’m not even allowed to sew?” she whispered, clasping her hands together to hide their trembling. What had she done to anger Bernon so?
“Nay, milady. And Lori is tending to the children. Lord Strangclyf says you’re to rest and he has asked Medwyn to keep an eye on you so you do not work.”
“Please excuse me, Ardith. I forgot something upstairs.” Barwolf turned and dashed up the steps to the lord’s tower.
Thirteen
Tears spilled down Barwolf’s cheeks as she closed the chamber door. She ran across the room, threw herself facedown across the bed, and wept into her arms.
Bernon must think her useless to have taken all her duties away. How could she ever prove herself to him? And how was she supposed to fill her days now? She had no purpose. She didn’t fit in with all the noble court people and couldn’t endure the thought of facing them without Bernon at her side. ‘Twas too bad Aurick wasn’t home. He would help her make Bernon understand that she was valuable, rare, and precious.
Zut! She
sniffed back her tears and wiped her cheeks on her sleeve. Crying served no purpose. She had never been so emotional in the past. Of course, she had never had time to be. She needed to find something to occupy her that Medwyn would not consider work. That irked. Bernon had put a watchdog on her trail. He didn’t even trust her to follow his orders.
Well, if her husband ordered her not to work, then she would show him. She would become lazier than an old fat woman on a hot, humid day. Aye, she would slack off, sit around, eat sweetmeats, and grow plump. She would start now by staying right here in this bed.
After a quarter of an hour, Barwolf decided lounging in bed was boring. There had to be something she could do that Bernon wouldn’t construe as work.
The call of the seagulls beckoned of a sudden and anticipation lifted her spirits. She had always wanted to spend a day sailing without any cares in the world. Today would be the perfect opportunity for her to raise her sail, lounge in her boat, and drink in the sunshine while a crisp spring breeze carried her out to sea and back.
She frowned, remembering her watchdog. She wanted to go alone. Barwolf crossed the room and opened the wall by the hearth. She took the maze to the stream where she had docked with the queen on the previous day. Finding another boat docked beside hers surprised her and she decided one of the fishermen probably came home for the nooning and wanted to dock closer to home. An unusual practice, but nothing else made sense and she didn’t have time to ponder it. She was going to have fun.
After checking her boat from stem to stern as Uncle Aurick had taught her, she pushed off from the bank with an oar and settled herself in the nine-foot craft that her uncle helped her build. Excitement curved her lips. Wasn’t this going to be the most enjoyable day she ever had?
She hummed a jaunty tune and paddled toward the sea. As she neared the wide mouth of the river that flowed into the North Sea, dampness seeped through her slippers. Glancing down, she saw about an inch of water sloshing over her feet and gasped. Her end of the craft was riding lower than usual. She found a hole chipped out in the wood near the bottom of the boat under the tiller. How did that happen? Nothing in the boat appeared suitable for baling the water, which seemed to be flowing in faster.
She turned the boat and rowed toward the bank. The currents gained in strength and battled against her. The water soon covered her ankles. Zut! She would never reach shore. Other than the two oars, nothing else in the boat would float, including her. Could the oars handle her weight? Zut! She would have to cut off the bottom of her fine new gown if she wanted even a chance at not sinking.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Barwolf pulled the oars into the boat and unfastened her girdle. She doffed her kirtle then cut off the bottom of her shift, so the garment reached only mid thigh. She used her dagger to cut a long strip from the kirtle. Placing one oar on top of the other, she tied them together with the strip, replaced her dagger, and clenched the oars on her lap.
Now was probably a good time to pray, so she murmured a quick Ave Maria.
Zut! Her end of the boat was almost under water. What should she do now? The answer came to her. Barwolf stood up and screamed at the top of her lungs.
The water covered her calves, so she waded to the stem of the boat, which was higher. She tossed out a Pater Noster in case the Blessed Mother hadn’t had a chance to talk to her Son about this urgent problem yet. An Act of Contrition might be a good idea right now too. She lumped all her sins together, told God she was really sorry, and pointed out she would have had time for penance if Bernon hadn’t made her rest, because she would be doing her chores instead of drowning.
The boat dipped. Merciful Heavens! She was about to lose her foothold. She didn’t want to die today, but she was about to, and ‘twas all Bernon’s fault for not letting her work.
“Bernon!” she bellowed, putting all her rage, anguish, and fear into the cry.
She heard a splash from behind, turned too fast, and lost her balance. Her back slammed against the water and she lost her grips on the oars. Currents swirled and surged, forcing her downward. The pressure in her lungs felt near to bursting. She started moving upward and bumped into the hull of the boat. Out of nowhere, an arm snaked around her and pulled her against something hard. Her head soon cleared the surface. She coughed and sputtered, gulping in cool salty air and clutching at her savior’s neck.
~ * ~
“Don’t panic and take a couple of deep even breaths,” Bernon ordered, shaking water from his head and thanking the Almighty she was alive. Then he began counting, so he wouldn’t strangle her.
She nodded her understanding and followed his angry order. “Thank you for saving me, Bernon. Someone carved a hole in my boat.” She finally peeked up at his furious face. “Bernon, I did not—”
“Do not say another word until we get to the bank,” Bernon ordered through clenched teeth. “Move around to my back while I fight these currents and swim you ashore. And hold on tight, damn it.”
Hearing the fury in his voice, she complied. Geno broke the surface of the water. He reached the bank about the same time she and Bernon did. Her heart still hadn’t quit pounding and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Bernon set her trembling frame on the bank then stood with hands on hips and glowered at her.
“What in perdition were you doing in a boat when you can’t swim and I left orders for you to rest?” he bellowed. His heart lurched at the thought of what would have happened to her if he hadn’t gotten to her in time. God’s bones, he would have lost her.
Hugging her arms tightly around her waist, she bowed her head and let silent sobs wrack her body.
Bernon wiped a hand over his face in an exasperated move.
“The little wolf spoke truthfully, my friend,” Geno said in a tone clipped with rage. “The hole was chipped out. Someone wants her dead.”
“Are you sure? Bernon glanced up. Geno was looking at his half-clothed wife. “Damn it, Geno, quit looking at her legs.”
Geno raised seething eyes and nodded. “The hole was carved out and in a place not likely to be noticed until the water began coming aboard.”
Bernon knew Geno’s fury was directed toward whoever did the deed. Honest to God, his own wrath raged. Could the assassin from Londontown have followed him and want both him and Barwolf dead? Or were the old lord and Gremian behind this? When he found out, he would rip the scoundrel apart with his bare hands for putting his wife through this ordeal. “Barwolf, stop crying and tell me where Medwyn is.”
Barwolf sniffed and shrugged.
The little imp ought to know better than to give him such an insolent reply. “Were you not informed that I assigned Medwyn to guard you?”
She shook her head without looking up. “How can you be so mean? ‘Twas not my fault someone ruined the boat. And I was told Medwyn was to keep me from working. No one said anything about him guarding me.”
Bernon closed his eyes and balled his fists, suppressing the need to shake her. “If you knew he was assigned to you, then why did you leave without him?”
“I was not planning to work,” she snapped. “I was planning to spend a few hours relaxing in the sunshine and enjoying the sea breeze.” Her lower lip quivered then her tears spilled over again. “Now I have lost my boat and it took me almost a year to build it.”
“You would have drowned if we hadn’t heard you scream!” God’s bones, she was crying over the boat.
“Then you would have been happy I suppose,” she said bitterly.
Bernon stilled and studied her pouty features. She had a dejected air about her, as if something bothered her other than the boat. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She raised angry green eyes and glared through her tears. “If I die, you will still be The Strangclyf and you will not have to bother with me.” Her anger vanished. She dabbed at a tear rolling down her cheek then dropped her head. “I wish you had let me drown.”
Geno looked between Bernon and his wife and obviously decided now was a
good time to give them some time alone. “I’m returning to the keep. I want to find out where our vulture is and what he has been up to. I don’t like this.”
“Fine,” Bernon replied, not lifting his eyes from Barwolf. “See if anyone has spotted the snake, and I’ll see you shortly.”
Geno left and Bernon stared down at his wife. She appeared more fragile and dejected than when they first met. What could have caused her current melancholy? Hadn’t he lightened her duties? And did she not realize he had nearly lost her?
Sitting down on the grassy riverbank, he pulled her unresisting onto his lap, wrapped his arms around her like a cherished possession, and rested his chin on her head. “Did you have the boat long?”
“About two years, but I never used it much.” She rested her cheek against the base of his throat and sighed. “I do not understand this, Bernon. I checked my boat like Aurick taught me, and I didn’t see that hole.”
“Why did you say you wished I had let you drown? Are you so unhappy married to me that death seems preferable?” he asked in a gentle voice, feeling his gut clench as he awaited her answer. Why in perdition was this so important to him?
“Nay. I’m glad I’m married to you. I just...” She broke off and ran her fingers through her hair then settled her hands back on her lap and looked up at him. “I guess I was feeling sorry for myself, because you took away all my duties.”
“You had too many.”
“But now I have none.” She bowed her head and sniffed. “Only a worthless person has nothing to do.”
He hugged her tighter and sighed. He should have known she wouldn’t understand. “You have some very important duties, but I’ll not have you burdened by them for at least a week. You need the rest.”
She tilted her head back and raised expectant eyes to his. “You mean you have work for me then?”
“Your duties will be in keeping with your status.” He cupped the sides of her face, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. “You’ll supervise the running of the keep, but you’ll not do all the physical labor. You’ll care for the children and you’ll act as hostess for our guests. Did you know you walked out on a keep full of visitors?”