The Wolf and the Dove (46 page)

The sun was high and the morning well along when Aislinn halted and flounced down on a log, taking off her slipper to shake a pebble from it.

Wulfgar halted and waited until she looked up, then asked her solicitously, “Does milady weary of this stroll?”

“ ’Twas you who set me upon it, milord,” she replied with much feeling.

“Nay, my love, not I,” he denied innocently. “I but asked if it was what you deserved.”

Aislinn rose and stared at him, then she flushed.

“Oh, you beast!” She stamped her foot but winced as the tender heel struck the ground.

Wulfgar gestured to her and slid back to sit on the skirt of his saddle.

“Come, my love,” he admonished her. “The day will be tiresome as it is and I would soon be home.”

He reached down and Aislinn reluctantly placed her hands in his and with an easy movement Wulfgar swung her up into the saddle before him, guiding her knee around the large pommel.

Maida had drawn up beside them and now sneered at Wulfgar’s attentions. “ ’Tis better to walk than to warm a Norman’s lap, daughter.”

Wulfgar flung a sideward glance at the woman and spoke not gently. “Would you like to escape, old hag? I would gladly turn my back if you will.”

There was a strange sound from Aislinn, but when both turned to her she stared serenely into the distance, yet the corners of her mouth quivered with suppressed merriment.

Wulfgar urged the Hun forward while Maida sulked and grumbled to herself, giving him a snarl behind his back, but otherwise for the next few miles she held her silence.

As the Hun finally slowed and plodded along, Aislinn began to feel a great drowsiness creep over her. The saddle was worn smooth and far too roomy, thus she found it difficult to hold her place upon it. She felt the close warmth of the man who rode behind her and looking down could gaze musingly at his hands holding the reins. They were strong and capable of wielding a mighty sword, yet his long fingers were lean and supple and even gentle when the moment warranted. A sly smile spread her lips as she thought of their strength. With eyes aglow she leaned back full against him and pulled his mantle about her shoulders, laying her head against his neck with her face hidden beneath his chin. The smile stayed as she relaxed and left it up to his strong arms to keep her there. Wulfgar found the chore not unrewarding. Her softness and fragrant scent teased him, yet he wondered again at her sudden change.

It seemed like only a short time had passed when Maida rent the silence with a whining screech. Aislinn came upright, startled out of her dozing, and glanced around at her mother.

“ ’Tis naught but dust I’ve swallowed these many miles,” the woman wailed. “Would you have me die of thirst, you hedge lord, so that you can have my daughter when is thy wont without my bridlings to keep you in check?”

At Maida’s complaints, Wulfgar turned his steed off the road beside a swift flowing stream and pulled him to a halt. Swinging down from the stallion’s back, he reached his hands up to catch Aislinn around the waist and drew her down beside him, lingering a moment to wrap his mantle about her shoulders. He gave Maida a look askance before he went to her side and reluctantly helped her down.

“Huh,” she snapped. “You have much to learn of gentleness, Norman. ’Tis no doubt that rape got my daughter with child, ‘twas naught else from your hand.”

“Mother!” Aislinn scolded, but Wulfgar looked at Maida pointedly.

“How came you by the assurance, old grouse, ‘twas me who sired the babe and no other?”

Maida peered into his face and cackled gleefully. “Aaah, if the wee one comes with the black of a crow’s wing in his hair, then ‘tis Ragnor who played the maid rightly, and if the summer’s wheat falls upon the babe’s pate and disappears into the tuff, then ‘tis bastard’s brat for sure. But—,” she paused, seeming to sample each word with delight. “If the child’s crown springs forth with the red of the morning sun”—she shrugged and hugged herself joyfully—“then his sire is not known, of course.”

Wulfgar’s brows drew together before he turned abruptly away, brushing past Aislinn, and led the horses to water. Aislinn frowned at her mother who giggled her delight and scampered off into the woods by herself. Aislinn glanced uncertainly at Wulfgar’s broad back. It seemed now so cold and forbidding that she knew he wanted no company save his horses which he stroked distractedly. With a sigh Aislinn turned and slowly entered the thicket herself, knowing he must settle the problem himself within his own mind.

He was waiting for her when she returned and had sliced bread and meat for them. Her inquiring look found him still broodingly silent and no further words were exchanged between the three as they dined. Maida had noted his temperament and for once carefully held her tongue, desiring no bruises from this Norman knight.

The ride home continued in the same manner, though Aislinn dozed in Wulfgar’s arms and drew some comfort from his gentleness with her. His deep voice speaking low against her ear woke her as they reached the hall of Darkenwald. With an effort Aislinn straightened, blinking away sleep and found that darkness had fallen. Wulfgar swung from the saddle and Aislinn dropped her hands to his wide shoulders as he reached up to help her from the Hun. He set her carefully down beside him and turning to her mother, saw that Maida’s small frame sagged wearily upon the mare. The torches burned beside the great door and by the light Aislinn noted her mother’s face was drawn and bespoke of her fatigue. Aislinn took Maida’s thin arm and spoke softly in her hear.

“Come, I’ll take you to your hut.”

Wulfgar stretched out a hand, stopping her. “I will take her. Make your way to our chamber and await me. I will be there soon.”

Maida looked at him suspiciously before moving slowly ahead of him into the dark. Aislinn paused, listening to the sound of Wulfgar’s footsteps following behind her mother, then fading slowly. After several long moments a dim light was seen in the distance from Maida’s cottage window, and Aislinn finally turned and with lagging steps, trudged into the hall and up the stairs to their bedchamber.

The room was lit by a cheery fire prepared no doubt by some thoughtful soul who never doubted Wulfgar’s success in anything he did—undoubtedly Sweyn, ever loyal and ever seeing to his lord’s comfort.

With a sigh Aislinn dropped her soiled gunna onto the coffer as she stood near the warmth of the hearth. Drawing off her kirtle, she reached for a pelt to wrap around her naked body but as the door creaked open behind her she clutched her kirtle to her breast again and faced the intruder.

“So, you’re back,” Gwyneth murmured, leaning against the frame.

Aislinn swept her hand before her. “As you see, still alive and breathing.”

“ ’Tis a shame,” Gwyneth sighed. “I was in hopes you’d meet some hungry wolf.”

“I did, if you are anxious to know. He should be along any moment now.”

“Ah, the brave bastard,” Gwyneth returned derisively. “Ever flaunting his valor.”

Aislinn shook her head. “You know so little of your brother, Gwyneth.”

The woman straightened and strode forward brazenly, raking Aislinn’s slim body contemptuously with her gaze. “I admit I do not understand him nor why he should go flying off in the night to search for you when he will in time send you to Normandy or some other land far from here. Foolishness to be sure and naught of wisdom.”

“Why do you hate him so?” Aislinn inquired earnestly. “Has he ever sought to hurt you? You bear such venom for him I find it hard to understand your reason.”

Gwyneth sneered. “Nor would you, you Saxon slut. You are content to spread yourself upon his bed and play his games. What will you get from him but more bastards?”

Aislinn’s chin raised a notch as she choked back angry words. Then a movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and looking there, she found Wulfgar standing in the doorway, listening with quiet interest to their words. His arms were folded across his chest and his hauberk rested casually across his shoulder. At Aislinn’s silence Gwyneth turned to follow her stare and met her brother’s gaze.

“Do you come to welcome us back, Gwyneth?” he inquired somewhat roughly.

He closed the door behind him and crossed the room, laying his mail across the coffer beside Aislinn’s gown and regarded Gwyneth who eyed him coldly.

“You make your contempt for us well known, Gwyneth. Are you not happy here?” he asked, placing his arms akimbo.

“What? Here in this beggardly hall?” She snapped.

“You are free to go,” Wulfgar said slowly. “There is no one who would stop you.”

Gwyneth’s pale eyes stared at him coldly. “Are you casting me out, brother?”

Wulfgar shrugged his shoulders. “I but wish to assure you I will not hold you here if you choose to go.”

“If it weren’t for my father, you’d find a way to be rid of me,” Gwyneth accused.

“True,” Wulfgar admitted, a slow, sardonic grin spreading his lips.

“What? The roving knight has found that being a lord of lands has its disadvantages?” Gwyneth sneered sarcastically. “You must find it tiresome indeed to deal with the burdens of your many serfs and your household as well, when all you had to bother about before was yourself. Why do you not admit you are a failure here?”

“It does prove tiresome on occasion.” Wulfgar looked pointedly at his sister. “But I believe myself capable of bearing the weight.”

Gwyneth snorted derisively. “A bastard trying to prove himself worthy of his betters. ‘Twould make a wooden image laugh.”

“Do you find it so amusing, Gwyneth?” He smiled and moved to stand close beside Aislinn. Admiringly he lifted a shiny coppery tress as she raised her eyes and he placed a gentle kiss upon it, his gaze caressing her with more than passing warmth. “You must find us all worthy of your scorn, we being human and imperfect.”

Gwyneth watched his attentions to Aislinn and lifted her lip jeeringly. “Some must be tolerated with more patience than others.”

“Oh?” Wulfgar faced her, raising a brow. “I was under the impression you held us all in the same contempt. Whom do you not?” His countenance seemed thoughtful for a moment then he smiled slowly, turning again to Aislinn who grew warm and weak with his nearness. “Ragnor, perhaps? That knave?”

Gwyneth straightened her spine. “What do you know of the gentle born, being a bastard yourself?” she snapped.

“A great deal,” Wulfgar replied. “I had to take the abuse of those like Ragnor and you since I was a young lad. I know much of their high born ways and ‘tis not worth a pauper’s purse to me. If you really want to choose a man, Gwyneth, and I give you this advice freely, look to his heart and you will see the true measure of a man, not by what his ancestors before him have done or not done. Beware of Ragnor, sister. His kind is treacherous and should never be trusted overmuch.”

“You speak from envy, Wulfgar,” she charged.

He chuckled and ran a finger around Aislinn’s ear, making a delightful shiver run through her body. “If you must believe so, Gwyneth, but be it known I warned you.”

Gwyneth walked proudly to the door where she paused for a moment, glowering at them coldly, then left without another word, slamming it behind her.

Wulfgar laughed softly, dismissing her, then pulled Aislinn into his arms, slipping a hand to the small of her back while the other hand raised her chin. She did not resist but neither was there the response to him he desired. As his lips pressed lightly against hers, Aislinn willed her mind to think of other matters that greatly disturbed her and thus met his kiss with a coolness he was not accustomed to in her. After a moment he raised his head to gaze down into violet eyes lifted innocently to his.

“What plagues you?” he demanded in low voice.

“Do I displease you, milord? What is thy desire? Tell me and I will obey. I am your slave.”

Wulfgar scowled heavily. “You are not my slave. I have told you once this day.”

“But, milord, I am here to please you. What is a slave but one who must do her master’s bidding? Do you wish my arms about your neck?” Stiltedly she turned, raising a silky limb while still holding her kirtle with the other and slipped her hand behind his neck. “Do you wish my kiss?” Rising on tiptoes, she lightly brushed her lips against his, then dropping her arm again to her side, she resumed her former position. “There, I have pleased you, have I not?”

With a disgusted movement, Wulfgar tore his tunic over his head and folded it angrily away. With long strides he crossed to the bed and sat down on its edge, pulling off his chainse. When he stood up to remove the chausses, Aislinn went to the end of the bed where the chain still lay and sat down upon the stone floor, catching her breath at the coldness of it against her bare buttocks. As he stared at her in some amazement she slipped her slender ankle in the circlet of iron and snapped it closed.

“What the devil?” he cried and stepped to her. He yanked her to her feet, making Aislinn lose her grip on the kirtle. She stood naked as he stared down at her, his face black with ire. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Her eyes widened in feigned innocence. “Are slaves not chained, milord? You see I am not aware of their treatment because I’ve only been a slave these past few months. Since the Normans’ coming, milord.”

Wulfgar swore and bending, impatiently removed the iron from her ankle. He lifted her in his arms and tossed her onto the bed.

“You are no slave,” he bellowed, glaring at her.

“Aye, milord,” she replied, barely able to keep her mouth in sober lines. “As you wish, milord.”

“For mercy’s sake! What do you want of me, woman?” he demanded, throwing his arms up in frustration. “I have said you are no slave. What more do you want?”

She batted her eyelids coyly. “I wish only to please you, milord. Why do you show such anger? I am here to do thy will.”

“What will make you listen?” he raged. “Must I cry it to the world?”

“Aye, milord,” she said simply and smiled as he looked at her more closely.

For a short moment Wulfgar stared at her as if trying to find her meaning, then as it dawned on him he straightened and began snatching up his clothes again. He strode to the door and there paused as her voice halted him.