Claire Delacroix (11 page)

But if Talorc seemed ancient, his mother was even more so. The two had evidently lived in a little cottage on the property for as long as anyone could remember. It had quickly become clear to Baird that acquiring Dunhelm had meant also acquiring its self-appointed groundskeeper.

Fortunately, Baird liked Talorc. The old man certainly knew a lot about both plants, not to mention the castle itself, and he worked diligently at any task he undertook.

Even if Talorc had refused to have anything to do with clipping back the thorns.

Marissa sighed theatrically when Baird excused himself. “Do hurry, darling, it’s beastly cold out here.”

Baird retrieved the clippers from the corner where he had left them and smiled as he handed them back to the older man. He shoved his hands into his pockets, more than glad to take a break from Marissa. “They may need to be sharpened, Talorc. Those thorns were pretty tough.”

“Were they now? Well, sir, they’ve been growing on that site for more than a thousand years as the story goes. I’d expect they’d have grown tough roots in that time.” Talorc grimaced and turned the clippers in his callused hands, as though checking the state of a precious charge.

Baird’s curiosity was piqued. “There’s a story about the thorns?”

Talorc shrugged. “If you’re wanting the truth of it, you’ll be needing to ask my mother.” He flicked a glance to Baird and his tone was gruffer than usual. “She’s the one as recalls every little bit of every tale she ever heard, and tells it as though ‘twere her very own.” He smiled wryly. “I’m only the one as can listen, if you know what I mean.”

Baird considered the offer for only a moment. This story might reveal something about Aurelia and where she had come from. “Maybe I will.”

“Well, my mother is always pleased to have company, Mr. Beauforte, and you know where to find her, that much is for certain.”

The groundskeeper might have turned away, but Baird suddenly realized he was the perfect one to ask about Aurelia’s father. “Talorc, do you know anyone around here named Hekod?”

“Hekod?” Talorc’s eyes brightened and he almost grinned. “Oh, you’ll be sounding like a history lesson soon, sir! My mother will be taking to you like a duck to water.”

“I don’t understand.” Baird frowned. “Is Hekod a common name?”

“No, far from it, far from it, indeed. It would be a Norse name, as with the Vikings, you know, and very few now take those names to their own. There’s one Hekod I know, and he would be famous around these parts, maybe even part of the reason the name fell out of favor as it’s told.”

A local scandal, Baird concluded, realizing that some kind of family troubles could be at the root of Aurelia’s predicament.

Talorc shook his head and his heavy brows drew together. “But as I said, I’m no good with a story.”

Baird could easily imagine the kind of gossip that would run rife in such a small community. He wondered what this Hekod had done to earn himself such a reputation.

“You’ll be wanting a wee book I have at home,” Talorc continued with a frown. “I’ll drop it by for you, if you be interested.”

Talorc didn’t seem to be the kind of man who would endorse gossip. Probably he thought Baird should get the story from Hekod’s own lips, which seemed reasonable enough.

It must be a phone book he was offering.

“Thanks, Talorc. That’d be great.”

“Ah!” The old man pursed his lips and nodded solemnly. “I knew ’twas only time before you showed an interest in what you’ve got here. These old stones have tales to tell, Mr. Beauforte, more tales than you can imagine.”

With that enigmatic conclusion, Talorc shuffled off, whistling through his teeth with characteristic tunelessness.

What could Dunhelm have to do with this Hekod?

Baird shook off the question, knowing it wasn’t the first time he hadn’t exactly understood Talorc. The good news was that if there weren’t many Hekods around, then this one Talorc knew could be Aurelia’s father.

Once Baird found her father, well, maybe he’d be able to figure out where he had met Aurelia before.

He watched the old man go, barely aware that a grim-faced Marissa had come to his side. “Are you finally done with the help, darling?” she demanded tightly when he didn’t acknowledge her. She shuddered theatrically.

“Yes. Let’s go back inside,” Baird suggested easily. “I want to have a look at that reception counter again.”

* * *

The rain slowed and stopped, the sun crawled across the sky, its glow evident behind the thinning clouds. Aurelia’s stomach grumbled, she felt the dirt press on her skin and smelled Bard’s masculinity. She licked her lips and the taste of his kiss made the secret part of her tingle.

How she longed to scour herself from head to toe!

Suddenly, Aurelia realized why no maid was being sent. Had she not guessed that her women had been taken prisoner? And if the women of Dunhelm had been enslaved, then Aurelia might recognize one sent to service her.

And she might learn where her sire had fled.

Oh, it was an old trick to keep a prisoner isolated and secured from news! And part of a captor’s devious means to earn their victim’s trust and manipulate their thinking. Well, Bard would not succeed in doing any such thing to Aurelia!

Aurelia almost charged out of the room to confront him before she recalled herself.

She was trying to play the fool! She could not challenge Bard openly with such accusations and risk arousing his suspicions about her intellect.

Aurelia paced the length of the room and back as she worried over her course. What would a witless woman do? Assume she was being denied a bath - perhaps because men of war were not known to trouble themselves with matters of hygiene.

Yes! Aurelia smiled to herself. A fool would think no further than her own comfort!

She looked down at the robe and tugged at its hem with impatience. The garment was too short for her taste, but the only other option was Bard’s own tunic.

And Aurelia would not don that again, under any circumstance.

But clearly, she had to demand her bath. Aurelia nibbled on her lip and worried over the issue for only a moment before her decision was made.

As the better of two poor options, the robe would have to do. Aurelia lifted her chin proudly and sailed toward the door. Despite her qualms, Aurelia found herself looking forward to matching wits with Bard.

Not that that was of any import at all.

* * *

Chapter Seven

Marissa’s arrival, a false fire alarm, the complication of Aurelia and now the arrival of the exercise equipment before the spa area was finished.

So much for the uneventful day Baird had expected to have.

Marissa and the foreman were exchanging insults over who was to blame about the poor coordination of events, Julian was flipping through contracts, the electrician was venting about the premature use of his alarm system, and Baird was trying to find a solution as to where the exercise equipment could be stored until the spa was done.

Anything had to better than paying to ship it back to Sussex, then back here in a few weeks time.

“Mr. Beauforte?” The head plumber was closing fast and Baird groaned silently, certain he didn’t need another thing to juggle right now. “I’m needing you to have a look at what Joe has found. We’re going to be having a wee problem with installing the fourth septic tank as planned - Joseph, Mary and all the saints above!”

At the unexpected curse, Baird’s head snapped up.

And his heart sank. He should have guessed.

All eyes were fixed on Aurelia as she bounced down the stairs to the reception area. Her hair was still loose and damp, but his sweater had been abandoned in favor of a resort bathrobe.

It covered even less of her thighs than his sweater had.

Her skin was unexpectedly pale. Hadn’t she had a hot shower yet? Baird muttered an oath under his breath, uncertain why he felt protective of a woman he barely knew, let alone one whose mind seemed to have a precarious grip on reality. He scanned the hall to find work stopped completely as every man in the place gaped.

Not that Aurelia would have noticed. Her gaze was fixed determinedly on Baird, her full lips pouted like a child denied a chocolate bar in the grocery store line. Despite her expression, Baird felt a prickle of awareness, as though they were the only ones in the massive hall.

“Well!” Marissa exhaled with a low hiss. “Well, darling, I can’t imagine where you scraped up this sorry little bit of baggage, but she truly has no concept of what is appropriate to wear...”

Baird impatiently waved the designer into silence. “I’ll handle this.”

“But darling, surely you could send along some minion to talk sense into the woman...”

It was easy to ignore Marissa’s plaintive voice though Baird wished - again - that she had not managed to persuade him to let her come to Dunhelm. Oddly enough, Marissa was not spoiling him for all female company this time.

He wouldn’t think about that.

Baird determinedly crossed the floor, but Aurelia was not backing down. She didn’t slow her own course until they stood toe to toe and, despite himself, Baird admired her boldness.

There was something on Aurelia’s mind and Baird knew she was about to set him straight on whatever the issue was. When was the last time he had met a woman who was so direct?

And why couldn’t he recall this one?

Baird scanned her features with frustration. He wondered suddenly whether there was some reason that she didn’t want him to remember. Aurelia flushed when Baird looked into her eyes and her gaze flicked away. Was she trying to hide something from him?

“Where are the maids?” Aurelia asked in the high voice that she only used some of the time. She sounded childish and dumb when she talked this way, and Baird preferred her lower tones.

Baird frowned, both at her tone and her question. “There are no maids here yet. If you need more towels or anything, there’s a supply room at the end of the hall. Your key will work - “

“Me?” Aurelia chuckled as though he was joking, although Baird didn’t know what he had said that was funny. “There have to be maids here somewhere! There were dozens of maids this very morning.” She smiled up at Baird and batted her eyelashes. “Surely, you did not send them all away?”

This morning? Baird eyed her conviction and his heart sank. Aurelia was confused, that was for sure. She and her father must have been very close for his loss to affect her so deeply.

Baird felt a pang of compassion and knew he had to help Aurelia. Baird was used to solving problems - one more wouldn’t add much to his burden. Aurelia had no one else to count on, after all.

At least not until he found Hekod.

Baird heard his tone soften as he placed one hand gently on Aurelia’s shoulder. He leaned closer and was surprised to see something flash in her eyes.

“There are no maids, Aurelia,” he explained quietly, “and there were none this morning, either.”

Aurelia stared back at him for a long moment. Baird had the sense that her mind was going a mile a minute and wished heartily that he could have known what she was thinking.

Or was she thinking anything at all?

“I’m sorry, princess, but there won’t be any maids here until the building is done.”

She stiffened beneath the weight of his hand and her fair brow arched. “You do not mean to bathe before the building is done?”

Baird stifled a grin, not wanting her to think he was laughing at her. “It’s not that serious. The plumbing works already.”

But Aurelia didn’t seem to understand. She folded her arms across her chest and took a trio of deep breaths. She appeared to be choosing her words carefully.

“If there will be no maids until that time,” she said tightly, “then, of course, I am obliged to wait.”

Now, Baird was confused.

Aurelia fixed a very blue glance on Baird and he knew in that instant, from that one look, that Aurelia was not as dumb as she wanted him to believe.

Then, she met his gaze so blankly that Baird wondered whether he had seen anything at all. The sense that she was playing games with him irritated Baird immeasurably.

The last thing he needed was another Jessica in his life!

“What’s the problem?” Baird propped his hands on his hips with newfound impatience. “Just draw the bath yourself.”

“Myself?” Aurelia’s disgust with that idea was tellingly clear.

Which could only mean that she wanted someone else, some paid help, to draw her bath for her! Baird had never heard anything so lazy in all his life! The embroidered motto on Aurelia’s bathrobe taunted him, but Baird knew the resort had never been asked to such a menial task, even for a paying guest.

“There’s a tub in your room,” he reminded her, biting each word with precision.

“That tub has a hole in its bottom,” Aurelia retorted with a flighty toss of her hair. “And there is nary a drop of hot water to be seen!”

This was ridiculous!

“You are not going to have a maid or anyone else prepare your bath,” Baird asserted in a far more reasonable tone than circumstance demanded. “You are simply going to have to do it yourself, as everyone else does, whether you think you’re a princess or not.”

“Think I’m a princess!” Aurelia’s cheeks burned bright and her voice dropped. Her eyes snapped with intelligence as she wagged a determined finger beneath Baird’s nose. “I am a princess and you know it as well as I do. And I am not going to haul water up those stairs like some common serf captured on a raid in the East!”

She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him as though daring Baird to insist otherwise. Aurelia certainly wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.

All the same, Baird didn’t understand her. He frowned in confusion. “Up what stairs? What are you talking about?”

“Do not play games with me!” Aurelia glared outright at him. “I will not be mocked by the likes of you! Perhaps you do not see fit to bathe, or perhaps you find it amusing to torment me like this - gods and goddesses only know what passes for cleanliness among barbarians! - but understand that neither I nor my father will readily forget such rudeness...”