Strangclyf Secret (36 page)

“
You can count on us,” Hugo
affirmed with a staunch nod.

“
Aye,” Druce agreed. “I’ve
a few thoughts about the snake to share with you on the morrow when
we are not surrounded.”

“
I’ll look forward to any
thoughts you may have on the matter.”

Barwolf slipped into the
hall and went to Bernon. She grabbed one of his hands and smiled up
at him, flashing her dimple.

He looked at her glowing
face and again his chest constricted at the pleasure she found in
his company. “Where is Queen Matilda and your mother?”

Barwolf motioned her head
toward the archway, and he glanced with everyone else toward the
lord’s tower.

Lady Brianna entered the
hall, wearing a lavender kirtle over a slate-blue shift. Her
complexion glowed, scrubbed rosy-pink. A diaphanous veil draped her
head, held in place by a circlet of gold encrusted with amethysts.
A matching golden girdle set with amethysts circled her small waist
twice, resting low on the tilt of her hips. She stopped just inside
the entrance, and nervous pleasure shimmered in her violet eyes as
her gaze fell on Aurick. Queen Matilda stepped beside Brianna, took
her arm, and guided her toward the king. Brianna’s carriage
reflected the grace and dignity of her birth as daughter of a
powerful Highland chieftain as she halted before William then knelt
in front of him.

The king stepped forward
and held out a hand toward her. “Rise, Lady Brianna. Lady
Strangclyf will have you for the rest of the year, so she can give
you up for this one evening. You shall dine with your king and
queen tonight.”

“
My thanks, Your Grace,”
Brianna said, accepting his offered hand as she rose. She cast an
anxious glance toward Aurick. “I appreciate the honor you do
me.”

“
Come, Aurick,” the king
ordered. “You shall escort Lady Brianna.”

“
Gladly, Sire.” Aurick
moved to Brianna’s side and slipped a possessive arm about her
waist.

“
Everyone go to the tables
now, so we may dine,” Barwolf ordered in a voice that carried
throughout the hall. She slipped her arm around Bernon’s and tugged
him toward the high table.

The invitation didn’t have
to be issued twice. Everyone rushed to the tables before something
else could delay the meal yet again. Arriving at the head table,
Barwolf was about to sit down when Bernon moved her to the left
side of the bench they shared. She cast stricken eyes toward him
then swiftly lowered her gaze and sat in the seat he
indicated.

Bernon saw her expression
and knew she misunderstood his reason. He sat beside her and
whispered in her good ear, “Are you comfortable?”

Barwolf sighed and nodded
then raised contrite eyes. “I am sorry my eagerness upsets you. I’m
trying not to let it show.”

“
I am not upset with you.”
Her expression said she didn’t believe him. “Do you know why I put
you on my left side?”

She nodded and bowed her
head. “I am not worthy.”

Bernon released an
exasperated sigh. “I put you on my left side because you do not
like being on my right side where you have trouble hearing my
whispers.”

She looked up surprised.
“You mean you put me here just so I could hear you better and not
because you are upset with me?”

“
If I have to repeat
myself, then my plan must not have worked,” he said, flashing her a
roguish grin.

“
Thank you,” she said and
patted his arm.

“
For what?”

“
For being nice to me
again.” Barwolf speared a piece of meat from their trencher with
her dagger and shoved the morsel into his mouth before he could
reply. While he chewed, she moved closer to him and speared another
bite. He grabbed her wrist and raised the meat to her mouth. She
couldn’t do anything except eat the bite without causing a
scene.

He swallowed as she
chewed. “The trencher and goblet are to be shared. I’ll not have
you making yourself sick on wine by not eating again, else you will
be too drunk for magic later.”

Her eyes grew huge and she
swallowed. “Thank you.”

He would never figure her
out. “Why are you thanking me now?”

“
For not letting me get
drunk. I do not want to miss our magic.” She held another bite up
to his mouth.

He raised an amused brow.
“I take it we are going for a boy.”

“
Unless you would rather
have a girl?”

If only she meant
that...He let a slow seductive grin tilt his lips. “What if I want
both?”

She contemplated the
matter, nodded to herself, then gazed back up at him. “Then I shall
feed you and lick your wand and whatever comes first, comes
first.”

He locked his eyes on
hers, took hold of her wrist, and guided the bite into his mouth,
slowly chewing and never allowing his eyes to waver.

Barwolf gulped and ran her
tongue over her lips. “Bernon, I wish you would not look at me like
that right now.”

He raised a
brow.

“
I am already achy and
tingly,” she confided. “When you look at me like that, I feel
feverish too.”

With a devilish grin, he
took her dagger and offered her a bite, slipping his other arm
around her waist. She accepted the morsel and lowered her right
hand to rest on his thigh. After she swallowed, she reached for the
goblet and took a drink of wine. Bernon placed his fingers over
hers on the goblet then leaned over and drank from the same spot.
Her pupils dilated and her breathing grew shallow. She wasn’t
subtle at all. His lips quirked. She was just so adorable when she
blushed and got flustered.

“
Ma
petite,
you have fed me and pampered me
and we have drunk from the same cup. Now you will be a calm good
girl while I attend our guests. I shall give you what you crave
soon enough.” Bernon turned and struck up a conversation with Druce
and Hugo about possible candidates for Barwolf’s
century.

She frowned, obviously
frustrated by his dismissal. He ate from their trencher and ignored
her to all practical appearances. She glanced toward the other end
of the table. Her father nuzzled her mother’s neck. The queen said
something to the king then lightly stroked his cheek.

He knew it was coming.
Barwolf casually leaned against his side. He adjusted his hold
about her waist and his hand slid directly below her left breast.
He heard a muttered
zut
leave her lips. Then she clenched her jaw and
casually massaged his left thigh where her hand rested.

Bernon rolled his eyes and
glanced down at the top of her head. He wanted to laugh. The little
vixen was set upon getting her way tonight. He could appreciate her
uninhibited anticipation and desire, especially because he had hurt
her the first time. Just thinking their bathroom encounter sent
fiery pulses throbbing through his groin until he hardened with
need. Much more of her foreplay and he would push their trencher
aside and take her on the head table in view of the court. However,
his wife needed to learn once and for all that taunting bears could
prove dangerous.

He placed his right hand
over the dainty fingers caressing his thigh, stilling their
movement. His fingers under her breast began a subtle circular
massage of her midriff. She went rigid and gasped, then her right
hand began squeezing his thigh. He grinned and stopped the caress.
In a casual move, he reached for their wine and allowed his
knuckles to lightly stroke over her left nipple. Her peak felt
pebble-hard through her gown. He placed the rim to her lips and
tilted the drink, catching her moan.

Barwolf swallowed some
wine then raised her longing gaze. He captured her eyes in a
hypnotic pull as he turned the goblet and drank from the same spot.
Her tongue flitted along her lips.

Amusement sparkled in his
eyes and he grinned at her fidgeting. “
Ma
petite
,” he whispered. “Are you all right?
You appear a bit flushed.”

She tugged on his shoulder
until he leaned his ear down to her mouth. “I need you and I am
desperate.”

“
You will have to wait, and
let this be a lesson to you, so you’ll not have to suffer in the
future.”

She gasped and turned an
accusing gaze upon him. “You made me feel this way on
purpose?”

“
You are no more
uncomfortable than I am,” he gritted out.

“
But I am willing to
accommodate you,” she huffed, wearing her ferocious
face.

“
I shall take care of you
when the time and place are appropriate,” he promised. “Now eat
your food.”

Barwolf looked down the
table at the guests and groaned. Bernon knew no one was in any
hurry to leave. He chuckled in her ear, then he took up a
conversation with Geno who sat midway down the table.

He should have foreseen
another assault and headed off any action, but who could have
anticipated her actions? Barwolf hooked her right leg over his left
thigh. She heaved herself over until she was straddling his leg.
Then she squeezed her thighs with all her might. A long relieved
sigh escaped her lips and she relaxed against his chest with her
eyes closed.

“
Feeling
better,
ma petite?”
he asked in a tense voice.

“
Aye, I think I’ll last
through the rest of the meal.” She glanced up and caught every eye
gaping at her. “There is a splinter on the other side of the
bench,” she blurted. “I had to move so it wouldn’t poke
me.”

Geno’s eyes glittered with
mischief. “Ah, little wolf, your jeopardy—”

“
Do not finish it, Geno,”
Bernon ordered in an iron voice.

“
But, my friend, ‘tis too
good to pass up,” Geno goaded.

“
What is too good to pass
up?” Barwolf asked.

Bernon shook his head. “I
shall explain later.” He cast his you-just-wait glare at his
friend, who couldn’t control his mirth. “Geno, drink some more
wine.”

“
King William, you look
tired,” Barwolf called down the length of the table.

William paused with his
goblet in mid-ascent and looked at her. “I feel
wonderful.”

“
Are you sure?” Concern
knitted her brows. “You could go rest and we would all
understand.”

Bernon frowned at the top
of her head. “Do not insult our king by suggesting he is not
fit.”

“
You look fit, Your Grace,”
she assured him. “Just tired.”

William shrugged and
lowered his goblet to the table. “I am not in the least tired and I
have a few things to discuss with Bernon.”

She gasped as if he had
said he was taking Bernon away for an extra forty days of
scutelege. “Can they not wait?”

“
Ma
petite,
you are being rude,” Bernon hissed
in her ear.

She half-turned and patted
his cheek. “’Tis all right. I am a bastard and bastards can be
rude. You explained this earlier.”

“
You may not be rude. Now
apologize to the king before I’m tempted to carry you into the ale
room and spank your bottom.”

Barwolf turned back around
and cast penitent eyes upon the king. “I apologize for trying to
rush you, Your Grace, but Bernon will not retire to our chamber
until you go to yours.”

“
And you are anxious to
retire with your husband?” William asked with a twinkle in his
eyes.

“
Aye, desperately anxious.”
She nodded. “I was trying to seduce him, you see, but it worked
better on me than on him, so now I am terribly
uncomfortable.”

Bernon clenched his jaw.
“We do not boast of our bodily feelings to our king.”

“
I am sorry I told you I
was uncomfortable, Your Grace.” She leaned her forehead against her
palms and sounded miserable. “It must be my passions talking,
because I’m usually very restrained.”

Bernon rolled his eyes.
All heaven knew she had not been restrained since they met. “You
will cease speaking, wife.”

Barwolf immediately bowed
her head and clasped her hands in her lap.

Taking pity on the young
lady’s plight, Queen Matilda knocked a half-eaten trencher onto
William’s lap. “Oops. Do forgive me, dear. I believe you should
retire to the bath. I shall come help you, and your conversation
with Bernon can wait until the morrow.”

“
Bested by a slip of a
woman,” William said, raising his eyes to heaven.

“
Saved by one,” Matilda
retorted as they rose and walked away.

As soon as the royal
couple left, Barwolf jumped from Bernon’s lap and turned expectant
eyes on him.

The minx obviously hadn’t
learned her lesson. He ignored her and took a bite of pork, slowly
chewed, then chased it down with wine. She moved closer to him. Her
hand reached for the trencher and he grabbed her wrist. “Do not
even think about it.”

“
Bernon is right, little
wolf. A queen can get away with many things that a lady cannot.”
Geno stood, walked over to her, and winked. “Allow me.”