Strangclyf Secret (7 page)

“
I forgot you had no dagger
to eat from, my dear. You may use mine,” he said in a patient tone,
handing her his pearl-handled blade.

Accepting the dagger, she
gave him a tremulous smile. “Thank you, milord,” she whispered. “My
father always kept me hidden away when important visitors came to
Strangclyf. I will try not to forget any other manners.”

Bernon frowned at her
words. What kind of monster had her father been? After she ate a
few bites of the eel and turnips in wine sauce, she grimaced and
rubbed her hand over her middle. She stopped eating and took
another swallow of wine.

“
Where did you stay when
guests came to Strangclyf?” he asked, ignoring Lucretia’s latest
lid flutter.

“
Places,” she answered
vaguely with a shrug. Her grip tightened on the dagger and fire
shimmered in her eyes as she glanced at the redhead. Stabbing a
piece of eel, his bride raised the morsel and shoved it into his
mouth.

Bernon calmly chewed and
swallowed the bite then found another mouthful forced upon him.
What was he supposed to make of this latest maneuver? He grabbed
Barwolf’s wrist before she could spear any more food, chewed her
latest offering, and swallowed. “You do not have to feed me,
ma petite
.”

“
I do too.”

God’s bones, she looked
unsettled. “Why?”

“’
Tis my duty to pamper
you, so you will be in the mood to perform magic tricks
later.”

What kind of asinine
notion had she come up with now? “I do not perform magic
tricks.”

Her green eyes widened and
she clutched his arm with her free hand. “But you must. The most
important duty of a Lady Strangclyf is to provide her lord with a
male heir.”

God help him if he ever
began to understand her mind. “And what does this have to do with
feeding me and magic tricks?”

“’
Tis where babies come
from. I asked Cora. She is Leof’s wife. He is our stable master.
They have seven children, so she must know what she is talking
about.” She cocked her head and looked at him as if worry had
rooted in her mind. “Have you never done magic, milord? Cora said
most men know all about it as soon as they can walk or there about.
They crave it and want to do it all the time.”

Good God, the woman didn’t
know! She probably thought to find a babe in the forest under a
toadstool. He let go of her wrist and put his hand over the one she
had placed on his arm. “Exactly what did this Cora tell
you?”

“
Surely you know this?” she
asked, pressing a hand to her flushed cheek. “Is the room getting
hot or is it just me?”

“
I would still like to hear
it from you,” he said, noticing the pretty pink shade glowing on
the tip of her nose.

“
All men have magic wands.
A woman gets a babe after a man raises his wand and pokes her with
it. If she feeds him first, she gets a boy, and, if she licks his
wand first, she gets a girl.” Barwolf waved a hand in front of her,
fanning her neck. “You do want babies, do you not?”

A vision of her on her
knees before him came to mind and his wand perked up. He couldn’t
find the words to answer her. Who could focus on babies at a time
like this? Absolutely nothing he heard for the rest of his life
could stun him after this conversation.

Geno grinned. “If I were
you, my friend, after one boy, I would have a whole slew of
girls.”

“
I have to warn you,
milord, magic may not work on me,” Barwolf said with a pathetic
shake of her head. “I got poked last year and didn’t get a babe
from it.”

“
What!” He would kill with
his bare hands the lecher who had touched her.

“
I got a pearl, though.”
Barwolf took another swallow of wine and caught a drop from the
corner of her mouth with her finger. Then her pink tongue darted
out, claiming the dark red liquid. “It fell from my ear after the
magician poked me. Then my father made me leave the hall because I
made him queasy.”

Bernon clenched his jaw,
trying to control the desire that sizzled through him at the sight
of her glistening tongue. His wand was primed and ready for magic.
“My dear, we will discuss this further when we are alone,” he
whispered.

“
Bernon, your face is a
mite red. Am I making you queasy?”

Lucretia laughed and
arched a brow. “You may have to empty the cradle before you fill
it, milord.”

Barwolf clenched the
dagger in her grip and narrowed her eyes, staring at the blade. “I
have just remembered something I do well,
husband
.”

Thank the Almighty, she
was changing the subject and he was rather shocked to hear himself
addressed as husband. “And what would that be?”

“
Daggers.” Barwolf looked
at the weapon in her hand. She wiped the blade on her napkin then
began flipping the weapon over, around, and between her
fingers.

Bernon raised a brow,
surprised by her remarkable dexterity. “You do that
well.”

“
My grandfather insisted I
acquire skills with weapons. I was too weak with mace, axe, and
sword. My aim always went too high with an arrow and too low with a
spear. Daggers are perfect for someone my size. I can hit my mark
from one end of the hall at Strangclyf to the other. I can pin the
clothing on a body to a chair without marring the flesh. I have
juggled up to six blades at one time without cutting myself. And if
someone throws one at me,” she tossed the dagger into the air, “I
can catch it.”

She caught the dagger by
the blade and stared at the grip. “Even my father, who hated me,
acknowledged my skill with a dagger was superior to his. I
wonder,
husband
,
do you think Lady Lucretia could catch a blade?”

The dagger suddenly
whizzed across the table and pinned the right shoulder of
Lucretia’s kirtle to the slat of her bench. Everyone froze as
Barwolf stood, planted both palms flat on the table, and sent a
venomous glare toward the older woman. “The first rule of war
is
never
underestimate your opponent. Had my husband not ordered me to
restrain myself, you would be dead.”

Barwolf resumed her seat
beside Bernon, drank the rest of her wine, then gestured toward
Geno with the empty goblet. “Geno, would you please return my
husband’s blade to him? ‘Tis unwise to trust me with the weapon
right now.”

Bernon watched his irate
bride with hands fisted and teeth clenched. God’s teeth, she
had
no
manners.
She actually threw a lethal weapon across King William’s table as
if it were a toy. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this furious.
Was she jealous? Did she honestly think he cared about Lucretia’s
lurid invitation? If he weren’t so pleased to learn his bride
possessed a little spirit, he would throttle her.

She hiccupped and he wiped
a hand over his face. Hell, she was well on her way to a drunken
state.

At the head of the table,
King William stood up, red-faced. He scowled at Barwolf and
bellowed, “Bernon, your bride threw a dagger at a guest at
my
table!”

Barwolf continued glaring
at Lucretia. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace is mistaken. I threw
the dagger at the tart’s kirtle as a courtesy to warn her. If she
continues flirting with my husband, I would probably throw it at
her, but out of deference to Your Grace’s presence, I have asked
that the blade not be returned to me. If you wish to be mad at
someone, be mad at her. I’m trying to do my duty and give
my
husband a baby, but
that harpy is spoiling his mood for magic.” She ended on a
hiccup.

King William, stunned
speechless, stared at the passionate, seething, little Saxon lady.
Bernon was heartened to discover he wasn’t the only one his bride
could render mute. Word would surely go out now that he couldn’t
control a slip of a woman. His earlier plan to toss her over his
shoulder might have merit. A dignified exit was beyond possibility
now.

Matilda stood and beckoned
William until he leaned downward. After whispering in his ear, she
resumed her seat. He smiled down at his queen and she nodded.
Straightening to his full height, William locked his gaze on
Barwolf. “Geno, hand the dagger to Lady Strangclyf and she will
return it to her lord.”

Geno pulled the dagger
from the wood, freeing Lucretia, and held the hilt toward Barwolf.
She hesitated then accepted the weapon and turned to Bernon,
looking no higher than the corded muscles in his neck. Her eyes
widened then she submissively bowed her head, hiccupped, and
offered him the dagger. “I apologize for displeasing you, milord.
However, I did try to warn you about my unfortunate
temper.”

Bernon noticed the tremor
in her hand holding the blade. Was her left hand creeping up to
cover her injured ear a reflexive action? It had to be. She
wouldn’t insult him by believing he would strike her. He would
definitely discuss her behavior with her in private later, but he’d
be damned if he’d let Lucretia get the best of his bride. “My
liege, I would make a gift of this blade to my lady.”

Barwolf raised astonished
eyes, hiccupped, and quickly bowed her head again.

“’
Tis your pleasure,
Bernon,” William said, resuming his seat with a wink to his
queen.

“’
Tis truly unwise to trust
me with the weapon right now, milord. ‘Tis the truth, my blood is
still boiling mad,” Barwolf whispered.

If this were mad, he would
hate to see terrified. “Did you not pledge me your
protection,
ma petite
?”

She nodded and
hiccupped.

“
Then ‘tis your duty to
save me from the flirting harpies of this court.”

Lucretia gasped at the
direct insult, begged her leave of King William, and fled the
hall.

A bloodthirsty sneer
scrunched Barwolf’s elfin face. “Should I kill these women or
merely scar them?”

Bernon surprised everyone
at the table by laughing at his bride’s remark. “What do you
think?”

“
I think if they just
flirt, then I will merely scar them. But if they touch you, then I
will carve out their hearts.” She hiccupped and nodded. “And you
should do the same for me.”

“
I’ll kill any man who
flirts with you in any way.” His mild tone rang with
conviction.

She raised surprised eyes,
swayed, and grabbed his arm to steady herself. “You mean you’re
truly going to protect me and I’ll not have to stab men who try to
paw me anymore?”

Bernon seethed over the
implications of that remark. What kind of pig let his daughter go
unprotected? “Aye,
ma
belle
,” he said in a gentle voice and
caressed her cheek. “You will not have to worry over any man except
me touching you ever again.”

Flashing her dimple, she
gazed at him through glazed, adoring eyes, hiccupped then swayed to
the left. “Merciful heavens, ‘tis truly hot in here,
Bernon.”

Bernon caught her arm and
steadied her while she continued grinning. “You have had too much
wine.”

Her eyes widened in
amazement. “I have?”

He nodded, suppressing an
unfamiliar urge to laugh.

“
Well,
zut!
Here I thought I was feverish and lightheaded because my body
was liking yours again.” She patted her chest and belched. “I never
was allowed to drink the wine at Strangclyf, so I didn’t
know.”

Geno chuckled and saluted
Bernon with his goblet.
“In vino
veritas,
my friend.”

“
Did you know, Bernon, my
Grandfather made me learn Latin, Greek, and Gaelic, but I learned
French just to please you?”

Bernon rolled his eyes. “I
know you learned at least one word.”

“
You must
mean
zut
. I don’t
know what it means. I told my tutor not to tell me, because cursing
is only a sin if I understand, you know.” She looked upward and the
color drained from her complexion. “The ceiling is
falling.”

He shook his head. His
bride had only a few moments left before she either fell on her
face or tossed up her nervous stomach. Either way, he wouldn’t be
raising his wand and poking her tonight. “By your leave, Your
Grace, I will take my lady to our chamber now.”

“’
Twould seem the wise
thing to do,” William said, his gruff voice rippling with
suppressed laughter.

“
Come,
ma petite.”
Bernon stood and helped Barwolf rise. She swayed
and grabbed his arm. He hauled her against him, anchoring her at
his side.

As he guided her beside
King William, Barwolf impulsively leaned over and kissed the
monarch’s royal cheek then hiccupped in his ear. “I am glad you are
my king now. You got a bear to wed a lamb, so you can do anything.
I bet you’ll go down in history as the greatest usurping bastard
king of all times.”

Bernon had guided Barwolf
less than a fourth of the distance to their chamber when her
staggering almost sent her crashing into the wall. The little imp
would kill herself and deprive him of the pleasure if he wasn’t
careful with her. Grabbing her by the waist, he slipped an arm
beneath her knees and lifted her into the cradle of his
arms.