Authors: Mary McCall
Tags: #love, #knight, #medieval, #castle, #trust, #medieval historial romance
Bernon released her chin
and resettled his hands on his hips. “I will not take you in the
ale room with a hall full of guests on the other side of the
screen, so wipe that expectant look off your face.”
“
You want to go upstairs?”
she offered and tried to push him aside. “You said you would work
magic on me for a whole night—in the bed too.”
Bernon caught her upper
arms and held her in place. “We will act civilized and dine with
our guests first.”
“
I am not very
hungry.”
“
That may be, but as host,
I cannot retire until our king does.”
Barwolf ducked under his
arm and leapt from the counter. Then she grabbed his hand and
tugged. “Let’s go. I already talked to the queen and she promised
to hurry him through his meal.”
Bernon planted his feet,
pulled her back against him, and nudged her chin up, forcing her
jubilant gaze to meet his stern one. “You will slow down and stop
acting so eager.”
“
But I am eager,” she said,
reaching up and patting his cheek.
“
Ladies do not show it,” he
instructed.
“
Gentlemen do not show
rudeness, but you just did.”
God’s bones, now she was
correcting him. “I am not a gentleman. I am a bastard.”
“
I am a bastard’s wife. Do
you not suppose people will expect me to break rules
too?”
Women’s logic!
“When we are alone, I do not care how you act.
When we are with other people, you will act properly.”
She pushed her lower lip
into an enchanting pout and peeked at him from beneath her long
golden lashes. “I shall try to be good, Bernon, but right now I am
so tingly, achy, and filled with yearning that I don’t know if I
can sit still.”
He placed a quick kiss on
her lips then grinned. “You do please me,
my dear.
Let’s rejoin our
guests.”
She sighed and threaded
her arm through his. “All right, but ‘tis going to be a long
evening.”
Bernon guided his wife
from the ale room around the screen and into the hall. She tugged
him straight to the king, who stood on the dais by the high table.
“I apologize for our abrupt departure, Your Grace. You look
famished. Let’s eat.”
“
There is no hurry, Lady
Strangclyf. The eve is young,” King William said and received a
glare from his hostess and an elbow in his side from his
wife.
“
Before we dine,” Aurick
interrupted with a speaking glance at Bernon, “’tis an important
matter to dispense with, milord.” Receiving a nod of permission,
the legion commander turned toward the front door and bellowed,
“Druce!”
Druce pushed away from the
wall, nodded toward his commander, then threw open the door and
shouted, “Centurions, fall in!”
Turning around, Druce
walked toward the high table. A double row of soldiers, fifty-eight
in all, marched behind him. Reaching Aurick’s side, Druce raised a
fisted hand in the air and the centurions halted.
A bemused expression
crossed Barwolf’s face and Bernon knew she didn’t know what was
about to happen. He slipped an arm around her waist and angled her
to face the men. Then he released his hold and stepped back a pace.
She raised questioning eyes to his and he nodded to
Aurick.
The legion commander
dropped upon one knee in front of her, placed his fist over his
heart, and bowed his head. “Lady Strangclyf, I pledge you my
loyalty. My life for yours.”
Aurick rose and stepped
back. Druce took his place, giving Barwolf his oath. As the warrior
spoke, she took a tiny step backward, reached out, and gripped
Bernon’s hand. He felt her slight trembling and knew she was
overwhelmed by this display of loyalty, which signified her value
to his men. He applied gentle pressure to her fingers and let her
hold on, pleased she instinctively sought comfort from
him.
Aurick stepped forward
after all fifty-eight men gave their pledges. “Lady Strangclyf, the
centurions of Strangclyf salute you and present themselves, so you
may choose your centurion, first lieutenant, and
century.
Tears brimmed Barwolf’s
eyes. She raked her fingers through her hair, knocked
th
e
tiara askew,
and dropped her hand to her side.
“
Explain this, Bernon,”
King William said, wearing a perplexed frown. “Why would a woman
have her own century of warriors?”
“
To guard the pride of
Strangclyf,” Bernon replied, slipping an arm around Barwolf’s
shoulders.
The king raised a curious
brow. “What legacy holds such value—the emeralds?”
“
Nay. The
century becomes my lady’s personal guard.” Bernon leaned down and
whispered, “You may choose later if you wish,
cheri.”
She shook her head. “I
shall decide now,” she said in a voice thick with emotion. “May I
choose whomever I wish—even if they have not been here
long?”
“
Aye. ‘Twill be your
choice,” Bernon agreed.
“
Then I pick Druce for my
centurion and Hugo for my first lieutenant. I charge them to select
men for me, so my century may be comprised in equal measures of
Normans and Saxons. I wish them to remain under my lord’s authority
in all matters unless he is not in residence. Only then will I
issue orders.”
Bernon noticed tension
settle in Aurick’s jaw and knew the elder Saxon warrior felt
betrayed by her choice. “Are you certain,
ma petite?
Do you not wish
Aurick?”
“
Of course, I want Aurick,”
she said, looking up at Bernon and patting his chest. “But I have
already given him a more important task that carries higher value
to me than my guard.”
“
What task?” Bernon asked,
struck again by the ingenuous depths in her gaze.
“
He promised me that he
would be your backward eyes.” Her dainty hand cupped his jaw. “’Tis
a job I would trust to no one else and a much greater honor then
being part of my guard. Besides, you have no one else here with
experience commanding an entire legion and you will need Aurick to
train Medwyn since I took Druce.”
He gave her a slow
half-smile. “You made a wise decision. Aurick shall have the
assignment you suggest.”
Barwolf swallowed and took
a deep breath, returning a tentative smile. “Since I am making
decisions, Bernon, there is another I would like to make,
please?”
Honest to God, right now
he would grant her just about anything for bringing her selfless
gentle nature and loyal passionate spirit into his life. “What is
that?”
“
I would like a new
housekeeper and maid to replace Ardith and Bet—”
“
What!” Aurick roared,
appearing ready to strike Barwolf. Then he rushed over to Ardith,
who dropped a trencher and sagged against the wall near the buttery
with devastation etched into her features.
Bernon gripped Barwolf by
her arms and scowled down at her. “I would not have expected such
cruelty from you, wife. Do you not realize how much Ardith cares
about you?”
Barwolf struggled against
his painful grip and her eyes brimmed. “Of course I realize. ‘Tis
why I want her replaced. I am weary of watching my mother work
until her fingers bleed—and my sister too. Now that her brute of a
husband is dead, she can marry my father like she should have to
begin with. And her name is not Ardith. ‘Tis Lady Brianna. She
ought to be sitting at the lord’s table, not serving
it.”
Bernon released his grip
and looked at Barwolf as if seeing her for the first time then
turned his assessing gaze to Ardith. No wonder she seemed familiar.
Though their coloring differed, Barwolf possessed many of Ardith’s
facial features, or should he think of her as Lady Brianna
now?
“
How could you know?”
Brianna asked in a tremulous tone, maintaining a tight hold on
Aurick and staring at Barwolf in disbelief.
“
How could you suppose I
would not know my own mother?” Barwolf sniffed and dashed at her
tears. Then she wrung her hands. “You went away when I was but four
summers and everyone said you were dead. Then you came back as my
nursemaid and told me to call you Ardith. I did not want Sidney to
hit you anymore, so I did like you said. But Bernon is here now and
he’ll not strike me for telling. And he doesn’t like ladies
working, do you, Bernon?”
Bernon raised a bemused
brow.
“
But I never told you?”
Brianna said, taking a hesitant step toward Barwolf.
“
You did not have to tell
me. I remember being sad and afraid after you left. Then on your
first night back you tucked me in bed, kissed my forehead, and sang
the lullaby you always sang me. I didn’t understand why your hair
was darker or your skin was blotched, but I recognized your violet
eyes and your heather scent. You didn’t change those. And in the
last few weeks your skin is clearer and your roots are turning gold
again.” Barwolf glanced away and her voice dropped to a shamed
whisper. “I made you a gown for when you decide to change back the
rest of the way.”
Brianna straightened her
spine and lifted her chin, assuming her regal pose of years gone
by. “What did you mean when you said I could marry your
father?”
“
Aurick is my real
father...is he not?” Barwolf glanced between the pair.
Aurick sent an accusing
glare toward Bernon.
“
Do not
look at me.” He turned a gentle expression upon his anxious wife.
“What makes you think Aurick is your father,
ma petite?”
“
Everything.” She shrugged
and half-bowed her head, not looking at any one person. “He always
treats me well and protects me. He stood between his brother,
Sidney, and me, even beat him up once. Then there was grandfather
saying he knew I had his blood but he was not so sure about Sidney.
That made no sense until a few weeks ago. You and Aurick were going
to talk about how he fit into the family after I had already told
you.” She raked her fingers through her hair, setting the tiara
even more askew. “I don’t know. I had never truly thought about it
before. It just suddenly made sense that Aurick must be my father.
If he is not, I would rather not know. He has always been more of a
father to me than Sidney ever was.”
Bernon straightened the
tiara in her hair and kissed her forehead.
“Ma petite,
you are valuable, rare,
and precious.” He draped his arm over her shoulders and turned his
gaze on the older man. “’Tis time she heard the truth from your
lips, Aurick. You will tell her now.”
Aurick pulled Brianna
against his side, staking his claim. “Everything you said is true,
little lamb. Though we both had good reasons for not telling you, I
guess they do not matter now.”
“
Lady Brianna, you and
Betia will cease your duties,” Bernon said. “You may choose
appropriate quarters in the lord’s tower and from now on you will
dine at my table.”
Barwolf placed a hand on
Bernon’s chest and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Bernon. Can she
sit beside me tonight?”
“
I am not fit to dine with
guests.” Lady Brianna wiped a nervous hand down her skirt and
pushed back her hair.
“
Nonsense,” Queen Matilda
said walking toward her. “Your daughter just said she has made you
a new gown. Dinner has already been set back twice, so a few more
minutes will not matter.”
The queen took one of Lady
Brianna’s work-roughened hands in hers, slipped an arm around her
waist, and began leading her toward the lord’s tower. “Come, Lady
Strangclyf. We shall see your mother appropriately attired before
we feast.”
Barwolf began following
the women then turned, ran back, and leapt at Bernon, throwing her
arms around his neck. He caught her and held her at his
level.
She kissed his cheek and
joy illumined her eyes. “You are so wonderful, Bernon. Is this not
great? I am a bastard too. While we are gone, tell everyone to eat
fast, so we can go to bed.”
This was all he needed.
How in perdition was he supposed to act firm and correct her
manners when she appeared so happy? He finally managed a stern
frown. “I shall do nothing of the kind and quit acting so
eager.”
“
You would not be so surly
if you would use your wand for magic,” she whispered, giving his
mouth a hungry look.
“
I am not surly,” Bernon
growled. “Now go assist our queen with your mother.”
“
Well
zut.
Put me down then.” He set her feet on the floor and she
smirked up at him. “Just do not blame me if your braies burst
before dinner is over.”
~ * ~
While awaiting his wife,
Bernon signaled to Druce and Hugo, who immediately approached. “We
still have a vulture in our midst and a snake on the loose. While
milady’s entire guard is not to follow her around and I do not want
her to worry, the two of you should see that a few men are always
nearby. I want her well protected until all is
resolved.”