The Wolf and the Dove (18 page)

Aislinn folded her hands tightly in her lap, bristling at the sound of their amusement. She lost all appetite and longed to be any place but where she was. The meat Wulfgar placed upon her plate went untouched and her wine remained untasted.

Wulfgar considered her for some time, then casually remarked, “The roast boar tastes pleasantly well, Aislinn. Will you not even try it?”

“I do not yearn for food,” she murmured.

“You will grow thin if you do not eat,” he scolded lightly, sampling his own meat. “And I find bony women lack much of the comfort of rounded ones. You are pleasantly soft though you are not as sturdy as you need be. Eat, it will do you good.”

“I am strong enough,” Aislinn replied, not making any effort to obey him.

A tawny brow arched. “Indeed? I would not have guessed it by that weak play you gave me some hours ago.” He rubbed his chest and grinned roguishly. “By damned, I think I would have the vixen back rather than that limp-kneed twit I had beneath me then. Tell me, cherie, is there not another woman that resides in your comely frame who would come betwixt the two, with not so much the shrew but certainly more lively than the other?”

Aislinn’s cheeks flamed. “My lord, your sister! She will hear, and already she wonders at us. Would it not be best to treat me with less familiarity?”

“What, and have you slip into my chambers when darkness is dense and no one can see?” He laughed and his look consumed her. “I could not be that patient for you to come.”

“You jest when I am serious,” she rebuked him sternly. “Your kin suspect we are lovers. Would you have them know I am your mistress?”

He grinned slowly. “Shall I announce it now or mayhap later?”

“Oh! You are impossible!” Aislinn said in a huff and in a somewhat louder tone that drew Gwyneth’s attention from Ragnor. When the woman turned back again to speak with the knight, Aislinn leaned closer to Wulfgar.

“Do you not care what they think?” she questioned. “They are your family.”

Wulfgar grunted. “Family? In truth I have none. You have heard my sister speak of her hatred for me. I did not expect more, nor do I owe her an explanation for the way I live my life. I will not be bound by her frowns or thoughts. You are mine and I will not put you aside because kin have arrived.”

“And neither will you marry me,” Aislinn added softly.

Wulfgar shrugged. “ ’Tis my way. I own you. That is enough.”

He glanced away, but half braced himself for her reaction. After a long moment of silence when none came, he turned again to face her and found himself staring into wide violet pools which hid the thoughts behind them. The hint of a smile rested lightly upon her lips then deepened. Her beauty held his attention like strong cords upon his mind until she laughed lightly, breaking the leashes with the musical sound.

“Yea, Wulfgar, I am your slave,” she half whispered. “And if that is enough for you, then it is enough for me.”

Wulfgar sat back puzzling at her reply but Gwyneth interrupted his thoughts.

“Wulfgar, surely you do not intend feeding all these Normans through the winter.” She swept her hand to indicate the hall. “We will certainly end that season by starving if you try.”

Wulfgar glanced around at the twenty odd men who feasted hungrily upon Darkenwald’s precious store of food before considering his sister.

“There are more, but they ride guard. They keep the hall safe from raiders and thieves. They protect my people—and you. Do not question their food again.”

Gwyneth drew up in a huff, eyeing him distastefully. Another stubborn man to deal with like her father. Was there not one with wits enough to look after their own?

A short time later Aislinn rose, begging pardon from Wulfgar, and went to see to the comfort of Bolsgar. She dampened down the cloths upon his leg once more then instructed Kerwick to keep the fire stirred up during the cold hours that the old man would not suffer a chill and to watch him during the night. If he turned for the worse, she was to be called without delay.

Kerwick studied her. “Shall I awaken Maida to fetch you?”

Aislinn returned his gaze and sighed. “It seems that I am without secrets. Even the crudest harlot can have some hidden sin. But I?” She laughed low. “I must have my deeds announced from the highest hill. What does it matter if you come yourself?”

“Did you expect privacy when your lover rules men?” he asked sharply. His eyes dropped to the floor and the muscles in his cheeks flexed with the tension he felt. “Must I honor this thing between you two as a marriage? What is expected of me?”

Aislinn shook her head and spread her hands wide. “Kerwick, you and I can never go back to where we were before the Normans came. The door has closed between us. Forget that I was once your betrothed.”

“There is no door that stands between us, Aislinn,” he said bitterly. “Only a man.”

She shrugged. “Then a man, but still he will not let me go.”

“ ’Tis your charm that holds him,” Kerwick charged. He lifted a hand to indicate her gown. “And now you dress to entice him. If you do not wash your face or rub sweet scents upon your body, then he will turn some other’s way. But you are too vain to let it happen.”

Despite her efforts not to, Aislinn burst into amused laughter. Kerwick’s lean face reddened as she continued unceasingly. He glanced nervously toward Wulfgar and found the Norman scowling blackly at them over his horn of ale.

“Aislinn,” Kerwick gritted between his teeth. “Cease this madness! Would you have me flogged again?”

She tried to choke back her laughter but fell to giggling. “I am sorry, Kerwick,” she gasped. “I am bedeviled.”

“You laugh at me,” he growled, folding his arms across his chest. “ ’Tis my wretched garments you abhor and ridicule. You would have me like him, your Norman lover. So proud of his frame he must strut about like a cock at dawn. My clothes have been stripped from me. What would you have me wear in their stead?”

Aislinn sobered and laid her hand upon his arm. “ ’Tis not these simple clothes that do you ill, dear Kerwick, but lack of washing.”

Kerwick set her hand from him with some regret. “Your lover watches and I have no desire to feel the sharp teeth of the hounds upon me this night nor the sting of the whip. You’d best join him to ease his mind.”

She nodded and went to kneel beside Bolsgar, drawing a fur rug over him. The old man closely watched her as she bent over him and when she drew back, he gave her a tired smile.

“You are overkind to me in my ageing years, Lady Aislinn. Your fairness and gentle touch have brightened my day.”

“Your fever weakens your mind, I fear, sir knight.” Still, she smiled at his words.

He lightly brushed the back of her hand with his lips and lay back with a sigh, closing his eyes. Aislinn rose and without another glance to Kerwick crossed the hall to where Wulfgar sat. The Norman’s gaze followed her as she approached, never wavering until she moved behind him to stand at his chair. There Aislinn could consider him without being observed in return. He was relaxed now after the meal and paid his half sister the barest courtesy as she plied him with questions about his holdings and his status with William. She complained that his manner of dealing with his serfs was much too lenient, for they were a crude lot and needed a firm hand to keep them in check. As she offered this last advice Wulfgar slowly shifted his glance to Ragnor who lounged back in his chair, seemingly content with himself and Gwyneth’s conversation.

“I’m glad you have the ability to make judgments so swiftly, Gwyneth,” Wulfgar returned and his sarcasm passed her by.

“You will soon learn that I am very perceptive, brother,” she said, a knowing smile curving her lips as she raised her eyes to Aislinn.

Wulfgar shrugged, reaching behind him to take the girl’s hand and draw her closer. “I have nothing to hide. ’Tis common knowledge the way I live and manage my holdings.”

To Gwyneth’s irritation he began to toy absently with Alslinn’s slender fingers and caress her arm. At his continued fondling Aislinn grew uncomfortably warm and flushed. The smile of contentment stiffened upon Ragnor’s face and he turned to fill his drinking horn to the brim. Gwyneth’s own words slowed to a halting, stumbling speech as anger weighted down her tongue, and Aislinn could not help wonder if this was another game he played with them all. Wulfgar rose with a half smile, and dropping an arm over Aislinn’s shoulder, spoke in jest to the young knight, Gowain, who had boasted quite heavily of his own swordplay that afternoon.

“ ’Tis not your talent that keeps you astride, lad,” Wulfgar grinned. “But your winsome face. At its sight every man thinks he has found himself some sweet wench and dares do no harm to the fair damsel.”

Laughter shook the hall as Gowain reddened but smiled in good humor. Wulfgar rubbed his knuckles softly against Aislinn’s arm as he continued to banter jovially with his men, and in her confusion she failed to see Gwyneth glaring at her. Had her look been of steel it would have severed Aislinn’s heart in twain.

The look became even more piercing a few moments later when Wulfgar retired up the stairs with the girl, his hand riding upon her narrow waist.

“What does he see in that slut?” Gwyneth demanded, flinging herself back in her chair to pout like some spoiled child who had been ignored.

Ragnor averted his gaze from the slender figure mounting the stairs and finished his ale with an angry gulp. When he bent near Gwyneth’s cheek, he quite artfully managed a charming smile.

“I would not know, my lady, for my eyes hold only you within their sight. Aaah, would that I could feel you beside me, your body hungrily pressed to mine, I would know the joys of paradise.”

Gwyneth laughed low. “Sir de Marte, you give me cause to fear for my virtue. I have never been courted so boldly.”

“I’ve not much time,” Ragnor admitted roguishly. “I must leave on the morrow to join William.” At her obvious disappointment, he grinned. “But never fear, sweet damsel, I shall return, even if it is on my deathbed.”

“Your deathbed!” Gwyneth cried in dismay. “But where do you go? Must I fear for your safety?”

“Indeed, there is danger. We Normans are not popular with the English. They would throw aside William’s claim and choose another. We must persuade them that he is the best choice.”

“You boldly fight for your duke while my brother amuses himself with that trollop. He is truly without honor.”

Ragnor shrugged. “She only sends him away happily.”

“Wulfgar goes with you?” Gwyneth questioned in surprise.

“Nay, but soon. Alas, my fate may come more swiftly and no one cares.”

“I care,” Gwyneth confessed.

Ragnor caught her hand against his breast. “Oh, love, those words are sweet to my ears. Feel my heart pound against these confines of my chest and know how I yearn for you. Come into the meadow with me and let me spread my mantle upon the ground for us. I swear I will not touch you, only let me hold you for a time before I go.”

Gwyneth blushed hotly. “You are very persuasive, sir knight.”

His hand tightened upon hers. “Damoiselle, you are too beautiful for me to resist. Say you’ll come. Send me away with a small token of your kindness.”

“I shouldn’t,” Gwyneth argued weakly.

“No one will ever know. Your father sleeps. Your brother amuses himself. Say you’ll come, love.”

She made a small consenting nod.

“You will not regret your generosity,” Ragnor murmured huskily. “I will go first and prepare a place then come to meet you. Do not delay, I beg.”

He pressed his lips passionately against her hand, sending wild waves of excitement flooding through her body, then rose and hurried from her.

Wulfgar leaned in fatigue upon the door as he closed it behind him, noting with gratitude the steaming bath that awaited him.

“You manage this household as if you were born with the talents of seeing to the comforts of many,” he commented, watching Aislinn cross the room as he began to disrobe.

She smiled over her shoulder at him and there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. “My mother early taught that responsibility.”

Wulfgar grunted. “ ’Tis well, you will make a good slave.”

Aislinn’s laughter rang with a note of wry mirth. “Will I, m’lord? My father once said I had a most untamed nature. “

“And in that matter I believe he was right,” Wulfgar replied, lowering himself into the wooden tub. He leaned back with a sigh. “Still, I like the matter as it stands.”

“Aaah,” she returned. “Then you are content to produce bastard sons?”

“You have not proved capable of bearing any man a bastard as yet, cherie.”

“The test of time has not yet ripened, my lord.” She chuckled low as she removed her gunna, standing with her back to him. “Do not pin your hopes on fantasies. Most women are known to be quite fertile. You have just been fortunate in your adventures, that is all.”

“Not fortunate—careful,” he corrected. “I have made it a habit of inquiring upon the lady’s status before indulging.”

“You did not ask me,” she pointed out.

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I assumed you did not know, which you don’t. ’Tis the disadvantage of young virgins.”

Aislinn blushed hotly. “Then you have never had a virtuous maid, monseigneur?”

“ ’Twas by choice.”

“Do you boast that should you have desired one, you could have had such a maid?” Aislinn questioned with care.

“Women are not very discriminating. I could have had many.”

“Oh,” Aislinn choked. “How confident you are! And I am only one among many of your harlots!”

He peered at her obliquely as he idly rubbed a sponge across his chest. “Let us say, cherie, that you have proved the most interesting thus far.”

“Perhaps it is because I am not so old as your other women,” she snapped. Whirling she angrily strode to the tub where she postured saucily for him, touching her breasts, her waist and hips as she pointed out her assets. “Perhaps my bosom does not hang so low or my legs bow so wide. I have a slim waist yet and my chin does not disappear into folds. Surely something must have tempted you to take me without first your usual precautions.”