by McCall, Mary
“Sweet…like honey.” Her brows furrowed with puzzlement. “And you are giving me this name for my own?”
“Aye, and do you know what else?” He rested his forehead against hers.
She shook her head, looking dazed.
Bernon smiled. “Bears love honey. It makes us nice and docile.”
He held her gaze captive as his meaning sunk in, then she flashed her dimple and tightened her arms around his neck. “I am glad you married me, Bernon.”
“I am glad too,” he said, hugging her close and stroking her back.
“Would you say my name again?” she asked in a breathless voice.
“Melita,” he purred, pleased by her reaction.
She giggled as he tightened his hold and walked toward the hearth. “Where are we going?”
“To the bath,” he replied in a voice full of mischief. “You are covered with food.”
She pulled back and let out an outraged gasp at the horrendous sight of her once beautiful clothes. “My fine new gown! ‘Tis all your fault!” She glared at him. “And you still have not bedded me.”
“True. I doored you.” He grinned at her mood swing. “But the night is young, ma Melita, so rest assured that before morn, I will. Grab the torch and turn the lever.”
She took the torch from the wall bracket and opened the wall. “Wait! I dropped the tiara.”
“We will get it later.”
“Nay, Bernon,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “’Tis a rule. I have to put them up when I take them off and the chamber is not barred.”
She grew so anxious over the possibility of losing the jewels that he carried her back to the door. Before she could figure out that meant anyone could have walked in on their sizzling interlude, he leaned down and dipped her low. She giggled and picked up the tiara then held the torch aloft as Bernon descended the steps with her in his arms. Entering the bath, he lowered her onto a bench, and removed the emeralds.
“What do you think, ma petite?” He walked over to one of the statues and held the necklace up to the throat of the marble woman. “Should I let these stones adorn the statue while we bathe? Then we shall come down a year from now and find a chip off the old rock.”
She rolled her eyes, scrunched her face, and groaned. “’Tis the worst jest I ever heard.”
He scowled. “Dare you insult your husband, woman?”
Worry filled her eyes and she ran her fingers through her short locks, casting her gaze downward. “I am sorry, Bernon. I—”
“I was teasing you, cheri.” He set the jewels on the base of the statue and hurried back to her side. “And you are right. ‘Twas the worst jest ever told.” He cupped her cheeks and stroked her lower lip with his thumb. “You can always tell me what you think without fearing me.” A devilish grin crossed his face. “I’m nice.”
“You know what I am thinking, Bernon?” she smiled into his eyes.
“What?”
“I am thinking you are good for me and I am going to enjoy loving you.” She caressed his cheek then cupped his jaw. “You are my favorite person.”
Bernon kissed the palm of her hand. “I am thinking ‘tis good to have a wife who thinks well.”
He gave her a gentle kiss then gazed into her lambent eyes.
Her breathing quickened from the heat of his lips then an impish glow illuminated her face. “You know what I am thinking now, Bernon?”
Honest to God, he liked seeing her this happy. “Tell me.”
“Last one naked and in the bath is a rotten egg.”
~ * ~
After a thorough bathing and loving, the couple lay entwined on the cushioned bench. Melita sat up, splayed her hands over her pelvis, and looked down.
Bernon grunted, missing her soft warmth in his arms. “What are you doing?”
“Checking to see if we made a baby.” She turned, so he could see. “What do you think?”
Her stomach growled, and a rosy hue swept her flesh.
Bernon laugh outright. “I’m thinking you sound empty, and you wouldn’t be hungry if you had paid half the attention to your food that you gave to my thigh last eve.”
“’Twas not your thigh that occupied my mind,” she muttered. “’Twas your hand caressing my bosom.”
“Shall I go fetch food?” he asked in a martyred tone that told her he would go for her but he didn’t want to move.
“Nay. I’ll slip over to the buttery after I take the emeralds back. You want to come see the coffers?” She stood up and wrapped a bath sheet around herself.
Bernon sighed and stood up. “I could wait, but I dare not let you leave my sight, lest the mood for magic strikes and I have no one to cast my spell upon.”
They dressed toga-style in bath sheets for the excursion. Melita donned her slippers and glanced at Bernon’s bare feet. “Best put your boots on. The maze is filthy.”
Bernon grit his teeth to stop from asking when she planned to clean the passages. He didn’t want to chance putting the idea into her head if she hadn’t thought of it yet. He pulled on his boots, hefted a fresh torch from a bracket, and lit the rushes from the low burning torch they had brought down earlier. He turned and saw Melita placing the emeralds in a small ornate chest. She closed the lid and picked up the box. He slipped an arm around her waist and she smiled up at him. “’Twill be easiest to go through the ruins and I have something to show you along the way.”
They slipped through the alcove door and started down the corridor. “Bernon, you said I am responsible for running the keep.”
“Aye, as long as you refrain from doing strenuous labor,” he ordered sternly lest she think he was turning into an easy mark.
“Then I can pick our next housekeeper?” she asked, unconsciously tightening her grip on his arm.
“’Tis part of running the keep,” he agreed.
“Can we have a bailiff too?” she asked, peeking up at him in a fleeting manner.
Why was she hedging and acting so nervous? Did she not yet realize by now how important she was to him and that he would respect her decisions? “You may bring in as many servants as you see fit.”
Melita cleared her throat. “No one around here has done either job, so whomever I pick will have to learn.”
“I surmised as much. Do you plan on hedging much more or do you want to tell me who you have chosen?” He kept his tone even just in case she asked something he had to refuse.
They entered Jupiter’s Hall and Melita stopped before stepping across the floor. Bernon halted and glanced down to find her threading her fingers through her hair. “Why so anxious?”
“I would like Padarn and Lori to have the positions. They both have good sense and could learn the jobs.” She hesitated and peeked up at him. “I also trust them both.”
“You think I would object to your choice?” he asked surprised.
She sighed then looked him in the eyes with her truthful gaze. “’Tis just that Padarn’s back still plagues him sometimes. He has days when he cannot rise to heavy labor.”
“What if I tell you there is another job more suited to Padarn? ‘Tis less crucial and will not upset operation of the keep should he feel too poorly to work.”
“What is that?” She crinkled her nose as if bewildered.
Bernon grinned and tapped her cute nose. “I believe Padarn has set his mind on becoming our barber.”
“Oh,” she said blankly, digesting the news, then she smiled.
“Lori can still be your housekeeper.” He tightened his arm around her, tucking her close to his side. “I believe Padarn’s eldest son might do well taking over the farm if Padarn advises him.”
“I am glad you realized that.” She smiled and patted his arm. “Padarn’s pride keeps him going, but I often worry he will cripple himself.”
“For such a small woman, you have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.” He caressed her delicate jaw as a light blush blossomed over her cheeks from his compliment. “Shall we move on?”
/> “I would like to show you part of the secret first.” She turned toward the center of the hall and waved her arm in a flourish over the floor. “Behold—the secret of Strangclyf.”
Bernon glanced about, seeing nothing different. “What are you talking about?”
Barwolf walked onto the floor, gesturing about her. “The sun is where we are, and the irregular pattern of pink marble is the way through the maze. ‘Tis why the sun’s off-center and closer to this end of the hall. The Roman’s ran out of room at the sea.”
“I wondered why there was no pattern to the tiles,” Bernon replied, moving to join her. “The Romans were notorious for symmetric designs in the decorative floors I saw on the mainland.”
“There is a small placard on a chain in the coffers with a miniature of the floor engraved on the back. My grandfather had me wear it around my neck until I learned my way. We shall enter on the far side of the room.” She took his hand and tugged him across the hall then turned an ornate knob, opening the wall. “I do not know if there is a system to figure out where the entrances are. Grandfather showed me.”
She guided Bernon through the maze until they reached a place where the tunnels branched in three directions. Going to the wall on the right side of the passages, she pressed on the surface and a piece of the wall opened inward, revealing a small compartment. “Here is the release for the traps. Never go to the coffers without pulling this lever or you will die.”
Bernon cast the torch into the recess and saw the lever. “You said pull it?”
“Aye, toward you, but press to the right as you do.”
He did as she instructed and a metallic screech echoed through the passages followed by a loud final cluck. Bernon raised a brow. “Exactly what kind of trap is it?”
“I am not sure, because I have never seen it tripped.” Melita shrugged then an ominous expression masked her features. “But Grandfather told me that if I ever forgot to pull the lever, there would be too many pieces of me to bury. Come this way.” She walked to the passage on the left. “The coffers are at the end of this tunnel.”
They followed a passage that curved towards the right about thirty yards, then whipped to the left a few feet later. They eventually entered a small cavern. Melita turned to the wall on the right, pressed inward, revealing another lever, which she pushed. Another metallic wail resounded.
“The traps are rearmed now, so no one can harm us while we are here. The entrance to the coffers is over there.” She pointed to the far wall then she impishly flashed her dimple at him. “Would you like to see if you can find it?”
He grinned at her playful mood. “Nay, I shall let you show me.”
She crossed the chamber and pushed on a section of the wall near the floor with her toe. A small portion moved inward, and the wall to her left opened. She turned around, waving her arm in a flourish. “Milord Strangclyf, your coffers.”
“You are good at waving that arm, cheri.” He chuckled.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him into a large chamber filled with riches from around the world. Bernon’s jaw went slack and he stared at gold, silver, and jewels adorning everything from goblets, plates, and pottery to weapons, saddles, and furniture. Furs, plush rugs, and tapestries along with valuable fabrics lay in piles about the warehouse-sized room along with chests filled with coins and precious stones. Several wooden cabinets, intricately carved, stood in various places in the chamber. A large desk with a scroll cabinet sat beside the door on his left. Carved high into the far wall were the words POST PROELIA PRAEMIA.
“What does it mean?” Bernon asked in a dazed voice. Honest to God, he hadn’t expected a fourth of this.
Melita followed his eyes and grinned. “After the battle comes rewards. Well?”
“Well what?” he managed to get out.
A happy peal of laughter left her lips. “No paltry offerings here. You want to see the accounts?”
“Right now I am still trying to absorb what I see.” She was glancing about so didn’t realize he was looking at her. He liked hearing her laugh. She appeared so radiant in her joy that the jewels dimmed in comparison.
“When I was little, I used to come here to get away from the old lord. I would drape myself in the soft fine fabrics and put on lots of jewels and pretend I was a grand lady.” She crossed the room, opened a cabinet, and placed the chest containing the emeralds inside. Opening another box, she pulled out a gold placard attached to a chain and carried it to Bernon. “Here is the map I told you about.”
He studied the etching for a moment then turned the placard over and saw the fighting bear with ruby eyes. A grin slid across his mouth, and he raised amused eyes to hers. “Another bear?”
“Aye, but not as wonderful as mine,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and gazing up at him through shining eyes.
Jesu, she stirred his soul. And when she looked at him like that, she stirred his lust too. “Do you know what I am thinking, wife?”
She cocked her head archly. “That marrying me made you a very rich man.”
“Not at all. I am thinking ‘tis time I properly bedded my wife.” He scooped her up, eliciting a giggle.
She clasped her arms around his neck then sighed. “I am thinking I like how my husband thinks.”
~ * ~
Melita awoke to brilliant rays streaming through the window and nuzzled against Bernon’s warm body. His arm tightened around her, and he mumbled something in his sleep. For several moments, she tried to make the red under her eyelids go black, so she could get more sleep. Zut! Mayhap she could talk Bernon into sleeping below from now on, so the light wouldn’t wake her. She smiled and wiped the sleep from her eyes. ‘Twas usually still dark when she rose. She looked at Bernon and sighed. What a wonderful man! He loved her and he had given her a woman’s name...and maybe a baby too.
Easing from the bed, she smothered a yawn and dressed, careful lest she wake Bernon. Then she slipped from the chamber and skipped down the steps to the ground level. She met Balen exiting his chamber. “Good morn, Balen. You appear fit this fine day.”
He grinned. “And you appear well rested, sister. Your radiance outshines the sun this morn.”
“Do you know what?” she asked with a playful lilt.
Balen chuckled and shook his head. “Do not make me guess or the excitement glittering in your eyes may build until you burst.”
“My name is Melita and bears love honey.” Her stomach growled and she crinkled her nose with abashment. “I had best hurry. I want to bring a tray up to Bernon before he wakes.”
“My brother is still asleep?” Balen asked in a surprised tone, then he fell into step beside her as she entered the hall.
“Aye. We had a busy night.” She halted and looked up at him. “Are you at leisure to perform a special service for me today?”
Balen stopped and sucked in his breath. “What service?”
“There is an abbey about a half-day’s ride from here. I would like someone to go tell Father Marcel we have a new lord at Strangclyf and he is welcome here again. If he cannot come, then we need a new resident priest appointed.”
How could anyone deny this adorable fairy anything? “I shall have to gain Bernon’s permission first. Then I shall see this duty carried out for you.”
Melita flashed her dimple. “I appreciate your help.”
“Come join us, daughter,” Aurick called from a table near the buttery where he sat with Brianna.
Hurrying across the hall, Melita slipped in between her parents and kissed them both on their cheeks. “I cannot stay this morning. I need to feed the children and let Lori know that we need for her and Padarn to move to the keep, so she can be our housekeeper and Padarn can be our barber. Then I am going to take a tray up to Bernon.”
“The children have already eaten. Why don’t you get Bernon’s tray and let me talk to Lori and Padarn?” Brianna offered.
“I appreciate the offer and I accept.” She gave them a smug grin and draped an
arm over each of their shoulders. “Guess what?”
“Whatever it is must be wonderful to make your cheeks glow so brightly,” Aurick said, a ring of contentment and pride in his tone.
She was so happy she could dance. “My name is Melita. ‘Tis Greek and means sweet as honey.”
Aurick slipped an arm around her waist and hugged her tight. “’Tis a fitting name for you,” he said in an emotion-packed tone. “Do you like it?”
“Aye.” She crinkled her nose and blushed. “Did you know bears love honey?”
Brianna chuckled. “I know you love your bear.”
Worry settled on Melita’s brow, and she ran her fingers through her curls. “Are you both all right that I told your secret? I did not mean to blurt it out.”
“Aye, but you are a sly one to know about your mother for so many years without letting on that you knew,” Aurick said
“Balen is going to the abbey to find out if Father Marcel will come back,” she said, giving him a crafty look.
Aurick raised an amused brow. “Are you hinting at something?”
“I am thinking ‘tis about time you made an honest woman of my mother.” She hugged them both. “Have you told Betia she is my sister yet?”
“We plan to tell her this morning,” Brianna replied, then she released a snort and shook her head. “Jerold had a hard night and she did not get much rest.”
Melita frowned. “Jerold should not need anyone all the time anymore. What is wrong?”
Brianna rolled her eyes. “He is acting like a man—surly and demanding.”
“I resent that, woman,” Aurick said, giving Brianna a fierce scowl.
“Out of the mouth of the most surly of them all,” she retorted, reaching around her daughter to give him a placating pat on his cheek.
Melita smiled at their by-play. “Well I shall check on Jerold later. Right now I am going to get food to break Bernon’s fast.”
She went into the buttery and returned carrying a well-laden tray. The children, except for Manuel, were chattering and jumping about Aurick and Brianna. Melita smiled. “Good morning, angels. I am going to wake a bear. Who wants to come with me?”