Strangclyf Secret (20 page)

“
Her father taught her
that.” Geno gave him a hopeful smile. “Mayhap you will teach her
differently. I’m for bed, so I will bid you good night and see you
on the morrow.”

Geno entered his chamber,
then Bernon opened his door, stepped inside, and glanced around.
God’s bones! She had been at work in here during the past two hours
while he searched. The massive bed in the center of the far wall
bore new black and gold draperies. A game table and two chairs
stood in front of the hearth to his right and held black and gold
cloth cushions. Black and gold drapes framed the window and a
curtain of the same design screened the garderobe.

What he didn’t see was his
little bride. He sighed. Had she fled into the maze out of fear or
some misguided notion that he would sleep better? He might just
wring her neck this time.

Before Bernon could work
up a good anger, he heard a click and a scrape, turned toward the
hearth, and saw the wall open. Barwolf rushed into the chamber,
draped toga-style in a white bath sheet. Her short curls clung in
shimmering damp ringlets about her face. The faint scent of
lavender mixed with roses wafted toward him, tantalizing his
senses. She looked like a little Athena—fresh from the
sea.

She halted in the center
of the room. After casting contrite eyes at him, she bowed her head
and clasped her hands in front of her. “I apologize, Bernon. I was
in the midst of my bath when I realized I have been so busy taking
care of the children and Jerold and things that I have neglected my
most important duty. I am not used to having a husband, and I
forgot I was supposed to take care of you first. If you will come
with me, I will see to your bath as I should have when we
arrived.”

Was she still looking for
more work? And God’s teeth, he wished she would look him in the
eyes. “’Tis late. I rinsed at the well earlier. There is no need to
bother. You need to rest.”

“’
Tis no trouble and the
bath is ready for you. I’ll not sleep well, knowing I neglected
this duty.” She raked her fingers through her wet curls.

Bernon frowned at her
trembling. “Are you afraid of me?”

“
Nay.” She peeked up at him
from beneath long golden lashes, and a pink tinge crept across her
cheeks. “’Tis just...I have never bathed a man before and I am
nervous. My father kept me hidden away and servants performed the
task. If you prefer someone with experience, I can get
Ardith.”

Crossing the room with an
easy stride to catch her notice but not her fear, he nudged up her
chin and held her gaze. “That will not be necessary. I am sure you
will do well.”

Barwolf sucked in a deep
breath. “Your nearness is a bit overwhelming to me. Will you still
kiss me if I mess up?”

“
I will have to,” he said
in a husky tone that tingled down to her toes.

She gulped and pressed a
hand over her belly. “You will?”

Honestly, he had to
suppress a laugh. A strange mixture of desire and confusion battled
in her eyes. “Aye.” He grinned down at her flushed face. “My body
is liking yours a lot.”

Sparkles sprang into her
eyes and her dimple appeared. “I think maybe mine is liking yours
too.”

He caressed his index
finger along her jaw. “Where is the bath?”

“
In the ruins,” she said in
a tight small voice then swallowed hard.

Bernon raised a brow in
disbelief. “Are you serious?”

She nodded. “’Tis my
favorite chamber. I sleep there most of the time. You may want a
torch. I have lit the chamber, but the stairs are steep and the
ceiling is low. You will have to crouch along the way.”

Bernon grabbed a torch
from a wall sconce and gestured toward the wall with his free hand.
“Lead the way.”

Taking hold of his
outstretched hand, she pulled him inside the wall opening and
crowded against him on the narrow landing. “Here is the lever.
Grandfather said ‘tis best to always close the openings so no one
can wander inside and get lost.”

She pushed the release,
closing the wall, then turned and lost her balance. Bernon caught
her and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to his side.
They started downward and Bernon found himself hunched over for
most of the descent.

“
These stairs lead directly
into the bath, bypassing the labyrinth,” she said, settling a hand
on top of his at her waist. “I think ‘twas planned that way. When
you have time to spend a day with me, I will show you the secret of
the maze.”

“
So the secret has a
secret.” He chuckled, liking the way she held onto him, patted him,
touched him. Every encounter with her was a unique
experience.

“
I never thought of it that
way, but I guess it does. I have to confess to you that I broke one
of the rules.”

He couldn’t imagine her
ever going against an order for fear of punishment. “What are you
talking about?”

“
There is a rule that only
a Lord Strangclyf may disclose the secret to someone who is not
going to be the next lord. Lady Stranfclyfs are only keepers of the
secret.” Barwolf halted and raked her fingers through her short
locks.

He nudged her chin up and
spoke gently, so she would know she hadn’t angered him. “And you
told someone other than me?”

“
Genius knows, but he will
never tell. I always bring the children to the ruins during the
winter months. ‘Tis warmer than the shed, you see. If anything ever
happened to me, I didn’t want them trapped. There is also a maze
entrance into the shed, so they could escape if they were ever in
danger.”

“
Then you were wise to tell
him. Does anyone know he has this knowledge?”

“
Only the children, Ardith
and Betia, and Aurick.” Her eyes turned sheepish. “I was clumsy and
fell down these steps last fall. I couldn’t walk. Ardith said she
was frantic until Genius found me the next day and brought Aurick
to help me. Aurick doesn’t know the secret though.”

“
How did you fall down the
stairs?” he asked, wanting to discover the cause of her danger and
keep her talking. He would eliminate the threat later. Right now
her voice was soothing away the day’s tension, helping him
relax.

“
I was cleaning my father’s
chamber and one of his men came in and tried to bother me. I was so
relieved I got away from him that I was not careful and slipped.”
She waved a hand over the stairs. “You can see how steep the steps
are.”

“
Who was the man who
bothered you? I will see he does not come near you again.” He would
ensure it by killing the scoundrel.

“
His name was Gremian, but
he will not bother me again. He was here, so Hadwyn killed
him.”

“
This Gremian is not dead.”
Better for her to know now, so the lecher couldn’t surprise her and
cause her unnecessary fear.

Panic dimmed her eyes.
“You are certain?” She raked her fingers through her hair and
looked away. “Of course you are or you would not have said
so.”

“
Let’s move on.” He resumed
their descent.

“
I do not understand,” she
said, clinging to his arm. “Why would Hadwyn spare him?”

“
Do you trust me to protect
you?” He tightened his one-armed embrace.

“
I do trust you,” she said
with a shaky nod.

“
Then let me worry about
Gremian.”

“
All right. The bath is
through here.” They stepped onto a small landing. Barwolf reached
for a stone, opened its face, and pushed a lever. The wall opened
and Barwolf led Bernon into a dimly lit chamber then turned back
and closed the wall.

“
Good God
Almighty!”

Barwolf turned around and
grinned like a prankish imp. “’Tis great, is it not?”

“’
Tis a decadent wonder,”
he said in a choked voice.

The huge room boasted of a
large marble tile pond filled from a gushing waterfall. The
currents moved through two successively smaller pools and emptied
into a hole in the far wall. Stone benches big enough for a grown
man to lie upon surrounded the water’s edge, spaced ten feet apart.
Alternating between every other bench stood either a Corinthian
column or a marble statue of half-dressed or nude men and
women—some frozen in blatantly carnal poses for all eternity. A few
cabinets and a chest of more recent design were scattered
throughout the chamber, and a screen partitioned off an area at the
far end of the room. The coffered ceiling depicted more erotic
scenes in each recessed panel. How could his little bride be such
an innocent?

“
If you will come over
here,” she said, turning away, “then we can see to your
bath.”

He followed her over to a
bench, padded with a long cushion and draped with a bath sheet,
near the middle pool. She faced him and cleared her throat,
refusing to meet his gaze. “I suppose you want your clothes off for
this?”

His lips quirked at her
shyness. “Do you bathe with yours on?”

She shook her
head.

Her expressive little face
couldn’t decide whether ‘twas scared, nervous, or shocked. “Then I
suppose I do.”

She froze and sucked in a
breath while staring at his chest. Then she jerked her gaze back to
his. “Do what?”

Ah, so she had settled on
nervous. “Want my clothes off.”

“
I
suppose I should start taking them off then.” She reached a shaky
hand toward his leather
braiel
and fumbled with the clasp, encountering much
difficulty from her tremors. When she finally managed to loosen the
fastening, she sighed and set the belt aside. “There now,” she
mumbled. “That was not so bad, was it? I think I will get the boots
next.”

She placed a palm against
his abdomen, intent on pushing him onto the bench. Her brows
knitted into a frown and she started pressing against his belly
with both hands.

Bernon shook his head
trying to figure out his reaction. “What are you doing?”

“
Feeling you.” She kept
pushing against his solid flesh.

He sighed. So they were
going to play this scene again. “Why?”

“
You are hard.” She shook
her head over the fact. “I dreamed about this too.”

“
I am supposed to be hard.”
Bernon struggled to keep the laughter from his voice.

“
That is what you said in
my dream.” She looked at him amazed then crinkled her nose and
shrugged. “Well, sit down so I can pull off your boots.”

Bernon sat on the bench
and held out a leg. Barwolf unfastened the garter just below his
knee then grunted while tugging on the tight fitting leather boot.
Intent upon her struggle, she wasn’t prepared when the boot came
off and she landed on her dainty derriere. “There now,” she said as
she stood up and placed his boot near his belt. “I suppose I can
manage the other one.”

“
Are you sure?” He wouldn’t
laugh. She was so serious that ‘twould probably hurt her feelings
and he didn’t want to see her hurt or unhappy when he was about to
introduce her to magic.

“
I am sure.” She repeated
her previous tugging war and rubbed her sore backside as she stood
up.

Hell, he didn’t want his
playground bruised. “Did you hurt yourself?”

She looked at him and a
fine blush streaked her cheeks. “Maybe I am a mite sore. You can
fix that later after we finish your bath.”

He raised a curious brow.
She could come out with some of the daftest notions. “And how am I
supposed to do that?”

“
Are you not going to kiss
me like before?” she asked, looking at him wide-eyed.

Honest to God, what did
she think kissing had to do with her derriere? “And if I do, how is
that going to
fix
your tender derriere?”

“
When you kiss me, you are
supposed to rub my bottom, are you not?” She sounded as if she was
afraid he might say nay.

“
Do you want me to?” His
voice took on a husky timbre.

Barwolf abruptly paused
and stared at him with a strange mixture of curiosity and desire
battling in her expression. “I...I ah...I forgot the question. My
body is liking yours again just because I thought about you kissing
me.”

He smiled. “Never mind the
question. You just answered it.”

“
I suppose I should take
off your tunic next.” She swallowed hard and lowered her eyes to
his chest.

Bernon sighed. ‘Twould be
quicker if he ripped his clothes off, but that would probably scare
her. This was going to be a long night. “I suppose you’re
right.”

She grabbed the hem of his
tunic, and he raised his arms, assisting her as she pulled the
garment over his head. She folded the tunic and placed it aside
then turned back toward him and gasped. A shocked expression
crossed her face.

“
What is the matter?” he
asked, trying to keep concern from his tone. He didn’t want her
getting more nervous.

“
You kept it,” she said in
a dazed voice. “I did not think you had.”