by Susan Payne
Jillian stamped her foot, not that the rat paid any attention since the soft slipper-like shoes she wore around the keep evidently were not frightening. She banged down her empty scoop and the rat scurried into the darkness where she heard it make little squeaking noises, or there was something more in there with her. She went with the thought there were many others enjoying the dungeon with her.
She filled the scoop again and wondered if the wine in the other casks was sweeter. She tended to like wine that was more fruity than dry. She investigated her selection.
Jillian had gone through all the poems she knew from memory and thought about creating one of her own, but they all sounded like the drinking songs and limericks the guards hummed and told after returning from town. Some of the words she understood, others she understood more now she was a married woman. Other’s still escaped her so it must have to do with things men kept to themselves.
Anyway, she filled the scoop once again and gave the now sputtering candle a withering glare. It too was going to leave her alone in the dark, just as she was pretty sure the original rat had returned with his family members. But there was nothing she could do about it.
Jillian found a couple of barrels to move together to sit on and keep her feet and skirts up off the ground. After a search for leftover lanterns or candles from previous human visitors proved unsatisfactory, she was facing the fact she would be there in the dark soon. Not that darkness bothered her. She preferred the dark because it forced one to listen closer and listening, she felt, was less veiled, making secreting items and people impossible.
Refilling the scoop one last time thinking it would be daunting to do so without light. She sat back down as the candle sputtered into nothing and blackness surrounded her.
Then the scurrying of little clawed feet began in earnest, but they seemed to be staying away from her. Mayhap she should have made a pile of grain to the other side of the room where they would busy themselves until it had all been eaten or stashed away. Now was a poor time to think of that. If they stayed on their side and she remained up on the barrels everyone could live peacefully together. If not, she hadn’t learned how to wring a bird’s neck for nothing. What was good for the goose…and all that.
Jillian was about to try to make-up a poem when she heard the door scraping across the stone floor and then Gawain calling out for her. “Jillian, are you down there? Jillian?”
Preparing herself for the teasing she would probably receive for getting closed into the dungeon, she called out in reply, “Yes, I’m here. Just give me a moment to get the stiffness out of my legs. I can see where you are from the light behind you.”
Gawain took her arm and pulled her to him. Leaning down, he asked, “Are you hurt?”
Jillian pulled her arm away, not wanting to have people think that a little time in the dark would un-nerve her or drive her away. She realized the key hadn’t been in the lock where she left it so she asked to be sure, “The key was hanging on the hook on the wall?”
One word from her husband in a controlled voice. “Yes.”
There were several people in the kitchen as they came through besides the ones who had been with Gawain, at least two servants following them now.
Gawain said, “We’ll eat our meal and then talk.”
“I’m not hungry. I would rather go to your room if that is all right with you, husband,” she said politely.
“As you wish, I’ll be up soon.” Whether a warning or a concerned promise, Jillian wasn’t sure nor did she care.
Once upstairs Ann arrived immediately. “Oh, Madam, we were so worried. The Laird had everyone out searching for you, even the cook staff who were trying to keep the supper from burning down. How did you get locked in the dungeon? What were you even doing down there? I never go near the place since they say it has ghosts.” The last was imparted to Jillian in a whisper.
“Well, I didn’t find any ghosts and if they were there, I think they would have come out to speak with me since there certainly isn’t much else to do,” Jillian said facetiously.
“Can I bring you a bath, then, Madam?” Evidently being locked into the dungeon for most of the day raised her elevation so that she could no longer be referred to as Jillian, but must accept the more formal ‘Madam’ again.
Even though supper was going on in the hall, there were still servants available to carry the big oval wooden tub and the many buckets of hot water, then cold to cool it down to a temperature Jillian liked. She began to undress and unable to think with Ann standing to the side, sent the girl down to her supper.
“There’s no need to hover, Ann. Nothing happened to me and as I told you before, I can bathe myself. Now leave and I don’t wish to see you till the morning.” Then Jillian, naked, stepped into the tub and slid down so the warm water covered most of her body and she lay there absorbing the heat into her very cold bones. Nothing bad actually did happen to her, but sitting down in the damp and cold brought on a chill to her body she was having a difficult time getting rid of.
She heard the door open and she was about to tell Ann what she would do to her once she got out of the bath, but was too lethargic to even open her eyes.
That is when a very different voice said, “You seem so comfortable in there I hate to disturb you, but I wish to hear what you think happened down there today. I understand the last people who said they spoke with you were your father and Lady Edith. Did anyone else speak with you? Do you know what happened in the dungeon?”
“Someone who is not happy with my being here locked me in as I was looking over the keep as you suggested,” she told him wearily, not caring if he knew someone under his roof was less than pleased with his choice of bride.
“I suggested you have Agatha guide you around the keep. It is very large and has been added to over time so some of the rooms are not straight forward. They come off dead end passageways and up back stairs,” he told her unnecessarily.
“Those I navigated without error and I would not have gotten locked in if someone had not set-out to do so. I am sorry I made everyone miss their supper. You should have simply waited to search for me. I was fine.”
Her husband said keeping restraint on his temper, “But we didn’t know that. Your father was sure you would not leave him, not without at least trying to get him to go with you.”
“So, that is what this inquisition is about? You thought I ran off and that would make you appear foolish.” She was irritated that her bath had been disturbed and the pleasant buzzing sound in her head was clearing. Snuggling down into the water again, she ignored Gawain as he removed most of his outer clothes.
Gawain saw his wife in the still clear water since she hadn’t soaped the cloth. It still lay dry on the stool next to the tub. He brushed his hands over her exposed breasts and she smiled saying, “I know I’m not very feminine there. I have always been thin everywhere. The men said I looked like I had two fried eggs under my shirt.”
He once more needed to rethink his idea of what his wife’s life was like before she came to him. “You are more than enough for a handful. All I need to be satisfied and the bairns will take care of your becoming bigger,” he teased as the nipples responded to his touch.
Jillian merely smiled, and continued allowing the water to almost cover her.
“Come up here and look me in the eyes,” he said as he leaned towards her, staring intently. “Mad wi it! You’re right blootered and smell of wine from here. What did you do down there or need I ask? Found my good wine and whiskey, I suppose?”
Jillian tried to keep her eyes open, but soon closed them due to the bright candle light and said righteously, “I consu-u-umed no whiskey.”
Walking over to the towel, Gawain said, “Only because you didn’t find it in the dark. Here, stand up if you can and I’ll dry you off.”
Jillian tried twice before she could get purchase on both sides of the tub to push herself up and practically fell into her husband’s waiting arms.
He wrapp
ed the drying cloth around her. “If you think I’ll play the gentleman and not take advantage of your being foxed then you don’t know me very well.” He chuckled as she squirmed within the cocoon as he rubbed her body dry.
Jillian again gave him a big owl stare and giggled and that’s when his resolve to treat her gently was lost. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. Unrolling her naked body from the towel, he followed her onto the mattress. She reached out to pull him to her still damp body and he pulled the covers over them so she wouldn’t feel chilled.
Gawain liked this wife. She was reciprocating his every move, she initiated kisses. Kisses to his lips, his chin, his eyelids and his chest. She licked his nipples until he thought he would cry-out with want. Then she would not stop rubbing and stroking his bare chest, shoulders and headed for the waist of his knit hose, which he quickly disposed of by kicking them out onto the floor.
They made love finally when Jillian forced it upon him, pushing him down onto his back as he laughed at her attempts to swing her leg over his body and straddle him. He finally became frustrated himself and helped her. Placing his erection at her entrance while she did the rest. Setting the pace and depth which seemed to be too shallow for her needs. He accommodated her as best he could, finding his release as soon as he felt her tighten around him and she threw her head back, arching her spine backwards as the spasms racked her thin body.
Jillian collapsed onto his chest and Gawain held her there until he slid her to his side before curving around her body, marveling at the wildcat he had in his bed. If she let just a little of that out at a time, he would be more than satisfied with his loving wife. And he would have less fear she would one day walk away without a word to anyone.
CHAPTER FIVE
When daylight hit the room, Jillian winced and put up her hand to cover her eyes. The disturbance woke her sleeping husband who hugged her body as he remained curved around her in protection and asked, “Got a head this morning, I take it?”
“Just a wee headache. I don’t usually drink much wine and never that much or in the middle of the day,” she said slowly and quietly.
“You were down there for hours. I’m impressed you could walk on your own to our room let alone not drown in the tub.”
Jillian quietly moaned in pain. “Can you simply leave me in peace for a while this morning. It should go away, I’m sure, with a little quiet.”
Gawain kissed her neck, just below the ear, which he found so delightful on their wedding night. “I can leave you alone, but parts of me are still excited about the hellion I slept with last night and want a second go.”
Jillian was silent as she thought about what he said and then asked, “So I didn’t dream all of that?”
“Nor did I,” he said as he nudged his aroused manhood into her back and then lifted her leg to accommodate his body better.
Jillian arched her back, willing to oblige his need as long as he didn’t interrupt her peace too much. Gawain seemed to have understood the tacit agreement and pushed into her while fingering one breast and then the nub that grew more interested with each thrust. Jillian leaned her head back while Gawain sucked the soft skin beneath her ear again and nipped her shoulder until she came to a shudder and he stiffened in reaction.
Gawain waited a few moments and then disengaged himself and left Jillian to rest some more. Even Ann did not come into the room until Jillian herself opened the door to let the girl know she could empty the tub.
Cook seemed surprised to see Jillian in the kitchens and tried to wipe the wrinkles from her apron as she approached. “Missus, what can I be gettin’ afore ye?”
“Just some bread and cheese if there is any about. I missed both my supper and breaking my fast, it seems,” she said as she glanced about the tables and counters in search of food.
“Ahh, I’ve got better than that, Missus. I just took out some bannocks and we can find a dab of preserves and ye will feel like a new woman.” The rotund woman looked to see if Jillian was going to reprimand her for being too familiar.
“I can’t say the old one is too perky right now so mayhap a new me is what is needed.” She accepted the warm bannock already dripping with butter.
A cup of warm milk direct from the cow was placed beside her as she stood next to the table eating and she drank it down thirstily. “It seems as if I haven’t eaten in days.”
“Weel, Missus, I almost thought you dinna like me cooking ye were at table so little.” She looked pointedly at Jillian’s slim hips and backside. “Ye do be needin’ a little meat on those bones. I know the young bucks likes to see the skinny malinky long legs, but a woman needs more cushion. Something to fall back on especially if’n she’s plannin’ on having bairns soon.”
Jillian choked on the bannock and then waved it into the air in salute as she went in search of her next goal. She wasn’t about to have a conversation with the cook about children. She still wished to conceive, but that would be kept private between her and her husband. Although it seemed they were both doing pretty much all they could to have her conveniently with child within a short period of time.
It took a couple of tries, but soon she had cornered her ‘guide’, Agatha, in one of the upstairs rooms that was being turned out. Agatha was overseeing the servants as they moved furniture about the room to clean under it. Jillian caught Agatha’s gaze, but the older woman lowered hers to the floor quickly, trying to hide her displeasure at having Jillian interrupt her day’s activities.
“Agatha, may I speak with you please.” Just as Jillian thought the woman would actually have the audacity to ignore her request, Agatha threw down the dusting cloth and followed Jillian back into the passageway.
“I have chores that must be done today. I do not expect you to understand how much work it takes to maintain a house of this size running smoothly so the Laird doesn’t have all those little things bother him when he comes home to rest,” she said in a speech that almost sounded practiced.
“I know what it takes to run a house this size. I was in charge of my father’s castle after my mother died.” Which was true, but not exactly. Their long-time housekeeper continued to run the home and kitchens so Jillian was free to practice with the guards and men out in the bailey most of the days.
Agatha’s color was high and she seemed to be holding back on what she really wanted to voice. Jillian encouraged the other woman to have her say. “Go ahead and tell me what is sticking in your craw. I know it was you who locked that door on me yesterday.”
Instead of trying to deny that she had done the deed, Agatha asked, “Does Gawain know, then?”
“Not from me, but he isn’t stupid, either. He will figure out who doesn’t wish me around and my being here makes little difference to anyone save you,” Jillian pointed out.
“I don’t care if you know. You are not a proper wife for the Laird or for a knight. I heard that you were found and brought here wearing men’s clothing, your legs encased in knit, and riding astride. It’s indecent is what it is. Tradition means much to the clan and you are not traditional in any way.” Agatha finished emphatically.
Jillian had no arguments with Agatha’s remarks. After all they weren’t completely off the mark when all is said and done. “Speaking of traditions, I wish to thank you for not hanging my sheets after the wedding night.”
Agatha blushed again, a crimson that spread from her neck to her hairline. “I, ah, I was surprised there was proof of you being chaste, but I had asked that Ann bring it to me because I thought there would be no sign of purity upon it. I owe you an apology for thinking you were less than you should be as a bride,” the woman said begrudgingly.
“I fight as a warrior because I am my father’s only child and we needed someone to lead if we were ever attacked again. It was an area I found more interesting then learning how to do needlework or weaving. And I am much better at it then most men. I simply need to balance out the fact I do not have enough body strength to go into combat against a man w
ithout some sort of edge, like surprise and speed.”
Agatha stared at Jillian as if she were a strange insect that had invaded the house. “You like to fight? To wear men’s clothing and swing a sword?” Her expression turned into one of amazement as she finished, “I heard you raised a sword against Gawain, but I thought that must have been a falsehood since no man has ever bested Gawain.”
“I didn’t best him either. He took pity on me and realized I was in a weakened condition after having been on the road with my father for weeks. I know my limits and I would never be able to beat Gawain without his having some sort of handicap,” Jillian said honestly knowing her own capabilities. She had bested men bigger than she, but Gawain had strength and agility and the ability to react to his opponent’s attacks and change in battle technique.
“You are an unnatural woman,” was all Agatha could say. Evidently the worse thing for Jillian to be, for Gawain’s wife to be.
“I agree I am nonconforming to your description of a woman, but I assure you Gawain finds me woman enough for him,” Jillian threw back, tired of hearing this woman denigrate her and her choices.
Agatha was almost beside herself with that comment. Jillian thought perhaps she had gone too far and the older woman would have a seizure of some sort trying to come up with a rejoinder that would knock Jillian down to the level Agatha thought she should be.
“Do not worry. Gawain and I have an understanding, but I am not sure we make for a good marriage. Why don’t we leave things as they have always been? You remain in charge of the house as you have been since you moved here and I will not interfere. If I have a need that is not being met, I will come to you and ask that you see that it gets done. Is that a proposition you can live with?” Jillian dared the woman to refuse the olive branch because if Jillian became angry, she could take Agatha’s position away from her. Gawain had already shown he did not regard Agatha as important, not as important as his wife was, that was for certain.
