by McCall, Mary
Barwolf sniffed and nodded. He tipped up her chin and looked at her tear-ravaged face. “You are brave. Most women would have screamed and fainted.”
She gazed at him then tears pooled in her eyes and she bowed her head again. Bernon noticed the fresh blood on the sleeve of her gown on the arm that she had wrapped around his back at the same moment she did.
“You are bleeding!” She tried looking behind him, but he held her fast. “Let me see, Bernon. You have to be all right. I need you.”
“’Tis no more than a minor flesh wound,” he assured her. “You are not to worry.”
“But it could fester and you could take a fever and die.” Her eyes became panicked. “Then I wouldn’t have you and—”
“Shh.” He placed a finger over her lips then caressed her jaw. “Do not fret. I will let Ardith tend it when she finishes with you if it will make you feel better.”
She swallowed and sniffed. “I will worry less if you do.”
“Then I will,” he promised.
Ardith smiled broadly. “Now that you have settled that, let’s get that gown off, milady. Have you any night rails up here yet?”
“She can wear one of my under tunics,” Bernon said, not wanting Barwolf to feel embarrassed over her lack. “They are in the chest at the foot of the bed.”
Ardith lowered Barwolf’s gown to her waist, quickly dressed her wounds, and wrapped a bandage over her shoulder and around her chest several times then anchored the end. She retrieved an under tunic from Bernon’s chest and helped her mistress don the garment.
Bernon lifted Barwolf and lay her upon the bed. He pulled her kirtle and chemise down her body and tossed them on the floor. Then he drew the covers over her and kissed her brow. “You will stay here and rest your shoulder until it is healed.”
“But I have not had dinner yet.” Her stomach growled, reinforcing her complaint.
Bernon frowned. “Ardith can bring you a tray.”
“But you promised you would let her tend your back first,” she reminded him, panic lifting her pitch.
He sighed and turned to Ardith. “Where do you want me?”
“How about that chair by the table, milord,” Ardith said, gesturing toward the hearth. “You should be easy enough to reach there.”
Bernon removed his tunic and looked at the golden hair embroidered into the fighting bear on the chest. His little wife had worked so hard to please him and he truly liked the gift. “Can you save this garment, ma petite? ‘Tis but a small hole in the back.”
“I can make a new back from my shift skirt,” she said in a small pleased voice.
“If you will give it to me, milord, I will drape it over one of the other chairs, so ‘twill suffer no further damage until milady is able to make the repair,” Ardith offered.
Bernon handed over the garment then removed his under tunic. He sat on the chair and Ardith inspected the wound. “’Tis deeper than you thought, milord. ‘Twill take about three stitches.”
“Wait, Ardith,” Barwolf said then struggled up and slid her feet to the floor.
“I thought I told you stay in bed,” Bernon chided.
“I’ll not be up long and this is too important,” she replied as she padded toward him. She sat upon his left thigh, wrapped her arms around his waist, and leaned her cheek against his chest. “You can start now, Ardith.”
Surprised, Bernon returned her embrace and looked at her. “What are you doing?”
“Comforting you,” she mumbled against his chest.
“Why?”
“Because you are hurt and I want you to feel better.” She leaned her head back, looking at him, then patted his cheek. I know I told you I wanted you to hold me still and I did, but I also wanted you to comfort me and you did. You will see. The stitching will not be nearly so bad, because you have someone to hold onto.”
~ * ~
Bernon felt a stirring in his chest as he gazed down at her earnest face—still drawn with pain from her own wound. ‘Twas the most unselfish thing anyone had ever done for him. And she was looking at him like she loved him. He decided she did love him but probably didn’t realize her heart’s deed yet. He liked her comforting and was glad her heart belonged to him.
She rested her cheek against his chest, and he held her close, enjoying a rush of contentment as her love and comfort infused into his soul. His wife had turned out to be the one woman in the world he could learn to cherish.
~ * ~
Cherishing his wife may just kill him if he didn’t choke her or go daft first. She needed rest, damn it! Did she not know how dainty and fragile she was? Bernon stared down at his dirt-smudged, disobedient wife and wiped an exasperated hand over his face. And if she didn’t lose that submissive pose, he wouldn’t be responsible.
The first week after her injury passed without incident. She dutifully rested in bed so her shoulder could mend, or so he thought until the second week. He entered their chamber before the nooning and found Barwolf on her hands and knees, cutting material that she had spread out over the floor. His little wife had not only repaired his tunic, she had also made him two new under tunics, two new braies, and a jerkin. He yelled. Her eyes brimmed and she complained of boredom. He broke down and granted permission for her to leave the room for a brief walk and meals every day. Why in perdition he didn’t know that was a mistake at the time, he couldn’t imagine.
Striding down to the hall, he met Aurick, who provided some interesting enlightenment and confirmed his suspicions. The old rogue had a lot of explaining to do, because Barwolf deserved the truth.
The next day he found her in the ale room, supposedly helping the aleman count and rotate kegs. To his overzealous wife that included getting down on her knees and scrubbing the lower racks free of dust, cobwebs, and spills before the aleman refilled the racks. He exploded. She said she did not want critters or vermin attracted to the area. He tried to explain what supervising meant. She claimed she understood and would do better next time.
He found her in the woods near the riverbank a day later banging a branch against a tree. The noise that drew him also caught the attention of a boar that didn’t understand his wife wasn’t big enough for a full meal. Barnon arrived just in time. After killing the boar, he blistered her ears for coming out alone when she knew he wanted one of his men with her. She bowed her head and toed a piece of wood at her feet. That was when he noticed the pile of branches beside her. She admitted the wood was for repairing some of the weapons in the Roman armory. He had to yell at her again, because she intended to carry the weighty limbs home before her stitches were out.
After a vigorous training session with one of the centuries the next afternoon, Bernon entered the hall bare chested and glistening with sweat. Barwolf sat at a table near the buttery screen, teaching Genius his numbers. Genius lifted his chin and proudly squared his shoulders, then he told Bernon that his mama was training him to take over as steward someday, because he could never be a warrior with his lame foot. As the boy proudly showed off his knowledge, Bernon glanced at Barwolf. Her eyes devoured him like a carnal feast. He raised an inquisitive brow. She colored up and became flustered. God’s bones! He gritted his teeth. She wanted him as much as he wanted her and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it until her stitches came out. Bidding the pair a terse farewell, he left.
The next morning he found her in a meadow picking flowers with Ravyn. Before he could even open his mouth for a pleasant greeting, she pointed out that Ravyn was carrying the flowers and Bowyn trailed them for protection. Her expecting him to find fault with her immediately soured his disposition and he snapped out an order for her to go rest then stomped away.
Over the next two days he found her sitting with Jerold, giving Betia a break from the chore of caring for the soldier, who appeared well on his way toward recovery, and behind the keep with about a dozen women, helping them weave new rushes for the hall floor. On both occasions, he picked her up, carried her to their chamber, deposited her on th
eir bed, and left her with an order to rest.
She had spent the last few days sulking in their chamber. She also scooted as far from him as possible after he came to bed in the early hours of the morning. The past night she had the audacity to grumble that he obviously preferred the king’s company so he ought to sleep with his monarch. Honest to God, did she not know how she aroused him? That being around her and not touching her was making him daft? He growled at her to go to sleep. No need to torture himself by pulling her into his arms and offering her comfort. He sure wasn’t getting any.
This afternoon he returned to the keep after a rigorous day of training young recruits. He was covered with mud from a vicious storm that broke over the coast, so took a quick bath and changed. Barwolf wasn’t in their chamber, so he set off in search of her. Inquiries revealed no one had seen her since midmorning and she had none of the men with her.
Aurick approached him near the great hearth before he could work up a good rage. “There are ways of leaving this keep, milord, and there are ways of leaving without leaving.”
Bernon rolled his eyes and grunted, placing his fists on his hips. “That sounds like a Padarn riddle. Do you know where she is?”
“Not exactly.” Aurick smiled. “But the little lamb is upset, so she will seek a place and task that brings her comfort. Seeing as you’ll not let her work up here, my guess is she has gone down under and lost track of time.”
Bernon snorted. “The damn armory?”
“’Twould be my guess.” Aurick nodded then turned a shrewd eye on Bernon. “The lamb is thinking you’re not happy with her anymore. I tried explaining how things are for a man when he is around a woman that he wants but cannot have. I don’t think she understood what I was getting at and I didn’t want to damage her sensibilities by being too blunt.”
Bernon wiped a hand over his face and cast Aurick a sheepish expression. “Am I that obvious?”
Aurick grinned. “To me maybe, not to most. There is one thing you can do if you want to slow her down.”
Bernon raised a brow.
“The old lord promised her a woman’s name if she ever proved worthy. She took on more and more through the years, trying to please him, and that is the reason she feels such a need to work. I doubt if she will feel secure slowing down until you give her a new name.”
Bernon sighed. Aurick was right. A name would boost her confidence, but he wanted her name to be perfect for her. “I’ll give her one soon. Did you speak with Claud about that other matter?”
“Aye,” Aurick said, watching Ardith cross the hall out of the corner of his eye. “He is planning on leaving next week. Says he will find what you want and have it back here by the beginning of June like you said.”
“Good. Have you seen Genius? He said he would never make a warrior, which is true, but I’ve a mind to teach him how to ride a horse. ‘Tis a necessary skill for a steward on a holding this size.”
“’Tis a good plan and the boy could use more of a man’s influence. Genius is probably with the other children playing on the sun.” Aurick shook his head and chuckled. “Manuel was chagrined earlier, because he couldn’t go with them.”
Bernon furrowed his brow. “What do you mean by playing on the sun?”
“’Tis a place where they go with their mother on rainy days.” Aurick shrugged. “’Tis all I know.
Bernon remembered the unusual design on the floor in Jupiter’s Hall. “They must be down under with her then.”
“Has she shown you the way to the bath below the lord’s tower?”
Bernon nodded.
“I do not know the way around the maze, but I do know there is a door behind a pillar in one corner of the bath. ‘Tis set back in an alcove and leads into the rest of the ruins.”
“I’ll find them and see you later.” Bernon left Aurick, headed to the bath, and found the door. He easily negotiated the ruins and soon entered the main hall, which was lit by several bronze oil lamps. The children were in stocking feet, running across the floor, and sliding.
Sapphire spotted him and ran toward him with her arms flung wide then slid to a stop against his feet. “Papa, you came to play with us!”
“I can slide farther than Sapphire,” Topaz boasted, slamming into his leg and almost knocking him over. Then she smiled up at him. “But I do not because I am gracious.”
“Did you come to play, Papa?” Genius asked with excitement sparkling in his gray eyes. “You can be on my side.”
“Papa! Papa! Papa!” little Karl cried, running, then he wrapped his arms around one of Bernon’s legs and smiled up at him.
Bernon grinned at the grubby disheveled lot. “Where did all of you get so filthy?”
“In the armory,” Sapphire volunteered. “But Mama sent us out, so the dust she’s stirring up won’t choke our little throats.”
“We get to bathe in the fun bath after we play,” Genius added.
“How is your mama stirring up dust?” Bernon asked, keeping his irritation under control. He would wring her neck.
“Cleaning the walls, but I am too dainty to help,” Topaz replied, lifting her nose.
Bernon sighed. He could never complain of a lazy wife. “Ravyn, can you manage them in the bath then take them for dinner or do you need help?”
“I can handle them,” Ravyn assured him with a warm smile. “Do you want me to get Mama first?”
“I’ll get her. The rest of you, go with Ravyn and do as she says,” Bernon ordered.
“Papa, can you come with us after the rain stops?” Genius asked.
“Come where?” he asked, raising a brow.
“Mama says after the grass dries, she will take us and sneak away from all the court people for a day outside with food and everything, so we’ll not have to come home until the sun gets ready to set.”
“And you want me to come?” Warmth settled in Bernon’s chest that they wanted to include him. Had he not been jealous when he was a young boy and saw other youngsters receiving attention from fathers? He couldn’t allow these children to feel the same desolation.
“Aye. You’ll be fun.” Genius flashed him a happy grin. “And if you’re on my side, they’ll not win against me even if I’m slow.”
Bernon smiled. “Maybe I can arrange to bring along a pony, so you can learn to ride too.”
“You mean you would let me ride with my twisted foot?” Genius gaped at him.
“’Tis in my best interest.” Bernon ruffled the boy’s hair. “If you are going to be steward here someday, you will have to be able to ride, or you’ll not make it from one end of the holding to the other in a week even on a straight foot. Now go with Ravyn and I’ll get your mother.”
The children skipped out of the hall toward the bath, and Bernon went to the armory. He spotted Barwolf at once. She stood perched on the ladder against the wall, scrubbing away the thick grime with a stiff brush. He watched her put the brush in a pale of water hanging from the ladder, pull a knife from her pocket, and chip away some of the caked-on dirt covering the wall.
“You obviously lied when you said you wanted to please me.”
Sixteen
Barwolf jerked at Bernon’s clipped words, twisted too fast, and slipped backward from the ladder, her arms flailing. Bernon caught her before she hit the ground, and set her on her feet. She nervously swiped her hands over the apron covering her kirtle then dabbed at her cheek, leaving behind trails of grime.
“Thank you for catching me,” she said, refusing to look at him. “You um...startled me.”
“Truly?” he asked through clenched teeth as he folded his arms across his chest and glowered down at her. “And did I startle you enough to scare some sense into your tiny head?”
She peeked up at him through her lashes and expelled a weary sigh. Clasping her hands in front of her, she bowed her head. “I am sorry I displeased you again.”
Displeased? God’s bones, she was the world’s foremost mistress of understatement. And hadn’t he already i
nstructed her to look at him when they spoke? “You will look at me when you speak to me.”
She raised timorous eyes and her hands trembled. He could throttle her for acting like she feared him. “Have I ever hurt you?”
Barwolf nodded and a light pink hue spread over her cheeks.
Bernon rolled his eyes. “Other than when we made love?”
She shook her head.
“Then you will cease being afraid of me,” he ordered.
“Aye, milord,” she muttered and released a long harried sigh.
Hell, was she sulking? “Tell me why you found it necessary to disobey me.”
“I did not disobey you,” she said, crinkling her nose and sounding genuinely confused.
“I specifically told you not to work,” he gritted out. Why did she have to go and distract him by scrunching her adorable nose?
“You said I could restore some of the things in the armory,” she replied in a harassed tone.
“That was before you were wounded and I did not mean the damn walls!” Bernon roared then clenched his jaw and wiped a hand over his face. Did she think to spar words with him when she ought to see how angry he was?
Barwolf glanced away and nervously raked her dirty fingers through her curls. “Are you going to send me away now?”
“Hell, nay!” Bernon broke off and took a deep breath then noticed her nervous gesture. “Where did you come up with such a daft notion as that? And look at me.”
“You never spend any time with me, and when you do come around, ‘tis to yell.” Tears pooled until her eyes glistened in the torchlight. “Everything I do displeases you, and you have not kissed me in two weeks.”
Damnation, how was he supposed to tell her his dour mood and yelling were due to sexual frustration caused by not making love to her while she recovered? He would sound like a depraved knave. Just thinking about her naked in his arms sent blood rushing to his groin, and he groaned under his breath. “We will talk about this later. Go bathe and change. ‘Tis almost time to gather in the hall for the evening meal.”