To Love Again - Bertrice Small [42]
It would be best, Cailin finally decided, to err on the side of caution, lest she be considered wanton. She slowly slipped off the soft felt slippers she wore in the house, and putting them in the chest, too, she closed it. Then she climbed into the sleeping space, which was set into the stone walls of the building.
The mattress was newly made, filled with a mixture of sweet hay, lavender, heather, and rose petals. The inner covering of the mattress was a close-woven linen, but the outer cover was a finer, soft linen fabric of a natural hue. There was a beautiful coverlet of red fox, which kept her warm in the coldest, dampest weather. In a small niche above her head a little stone oil lamp burned, illuminating the sleeping space. Cailin considered dimming it, but decided to leave it burning for the present. It cast a comforting golden light over everything, and she needed all the courage she could muster to face whatever lay ahead.
Wulf Ironfist was shown to the sleeping space by a servant. Sitting upon the small chest, he pulled his boots off and set them neatly aside. Then he stood and removed his tunic and braccos. The servant girl, who had hidden in the shadows that she might see him nude, almost swooned at the sight. Never in all her life had she seen such a man! He had broad, broad shoulders and a wide back. When he turned to stretch, the serving wench was treated to the sight of well-muscled arms and a smooth bronzed chest. His legs were like tree trunks, massive and well-shaped, covered with a golden down. Her wide eyes slid down the tantalizing torso following his treasure trail, and her mouth formed a small O of worshipful admiration. Silently the girl backed away, envying the fortunate young mistress who would certainly be well-pleasured by the Saxon’s passion this night.
Wulf Ironfist undid the thong holding his hair back, and the blond mass fell forward, touching his shoulders. The glow of the light in the bed space was welcoming. Reaching out, he pulled the fur coverlet aside and climbed in. For a brief moment he thought he was alone, for Cailin was pressed against the far wall of the enclosure, her back to him, and at first he did not see her. Although he had earlier thought her demeanor a pleasingly modest one, he had expected a warmer welcome to her bed. Was she teasing him? Or was she merely shy? Rolling onto his side to face her, he reached out and pushed the delightful tangle of her curls aside to bare her neck. Then, leaning forward, he kissed the slender column warmly.
“Your skin is like silk,” he told her admiringly, and he stroked the back of her neck gently.
Cailin, who had shivered just slightly at the touch of his lips on her flesh, now shuddered hard at his touch.
Wulf Ironfist was not an insensitive man. He could see that the girl was holding herself stiffly. Then he realized that she was also still wearing her camisa. An uncomfortable thought crept into his head, but he pushed it away for the moment. He needed to know more. “You have not removed your camisa,” he said quietly. “Let me help you now.”
“I did not know if I should,” came the muffled reply, and she seemed to move even farther away from him, although he knew it impossible given the dimensions of the bed space.
“I have been told that Celtic girls celebrate the Mother goddess,” he replied, reaching down to slide the camisa up and off her cringing figure. Rolling over, he tossed the garment upon the chest and turned back to the girl. The line of her back was beautiful, and her skin was exquisitely fair. He touched her shoulder with gentle fingers, and she started violently. “Do you not wish to share your sleeping space with me, Cailin Drusus?” he asked quietly. “I have been told this is a common custom among your people. What is the matter?”
“For an unmarried maiden to share a sleeping space with a man is not how I was raised, Wulf Ironfist, but I am bound to obey the wishes of my grandfather. Just a few months ago I foolishly told Berikos that when my grandmother stepped through the door from this life to the