The wolf-man stood at the end of the table where the woman’s feet were drawn up sole-to-sole close to her body. Slowly, he lowered his outstretched arms over her until the bowl rested on her belly. Then he dipped his fingers in the bowl of dark red liquid.
Linnet knew she must leave at once. This was the devil’s work, for certain, and she should not see it. Even so, she could not tear her eyes away as the wolf-man touched drops of what looked like wine on each of the woman’s nipples. Linnet swallowed, feeling her own nipples tighten unaccountably.
The woman on the table moved her lips to the chant, rocking her head from side to side. A line of the deep red liquid curved down the glistening skin of the side of the woman’s breast.
The chanting grew louder and more insistent as the wolf-man dipped his fingers in the bowl again. This time, he dripped the red liquid onto the sensitive spot between the woman’s legs. Three times he repeated the ritual, dripping the liquid onto the woman’s nipples and between her legs. Each round, the chanting in the room pulsed louder and louder, an ancient sound from pagan times.
Linnet let her breath out when one of the fur-clad figures came forward to take the bowl from him. But it was not over. The wolf-man leaned over the woman and lowered his masked face to her breast, where he had dripped wine. The woman moaned as he gave a sucking kiss to her nipple.
As he lowered his mouth to her other breast and kissed it, the chanting grew louder until it pulsed in Linnet’s body. The dancers’ movements were frantic, twirling and flailing, casting unearthly shadows against the walls.
Linnet held her breath as the wolf-man took hold of the woman’s ankles. Then, as Linnet knew he would, he slid the woman’s feet apart and leaned down to place the last kiss between her legs. As he did so, the woman tossed her head and chanted.
Mary, Mother of God, protect me. Mary, Mother of God, protect me.Linnet prayed even as she was rooted to the ground, unable to take her eyes from the scene before her. She was horrified, and yet there was a dull ache between her legs. It was as if some primeval force held her there and would not let her go. Three times, the wolf-man did the ritual kisses.
Then, in a sudden movement, the man straightened and swung his arms out, flinging back the wolf skin. He was naked beneath it, his member engorged. Linnet gasped and finally scrambled to her feet.
But then, the eyes behind the wolf mask met hers and held them, as if he had known she was there in the dark watching all along. Her heart pulsed in her ears in rhythm with the pounding chant. The wolf-man kept his eyes fixed on hers as he grasped the woman’s thighs and thrust forward.
Linnet screamed and ran blindly into the darkness. With one hand banging against the wall to guide her, she stumbled through the passageway. The chanting followed her, vibrating off the walls and pressing in on her from all sides.
Mary, Mother of God, protect me.Mary, Mother of God, protect me.
At last, she saw a dim light high above her. She imagined the masked figures of hideous demons chasing her, grabbing at her feet, but she did not look back. Fear choked her as she lurched up the steps toward the light.
Chapter Twelve
After a clandestine meeting with the bishop next door at Westminster Abbey, Jamie returned to the palace. He was weary of politics. Intent on escape, he avoided the Great Hall, which was still crowded, and headed for the privy palace. Most of Gloucester’s guests were Londoners and would be returning to their homes tonight. Consequently, the guest wing was nearly empty—and blessedly quiet.
As he neared his guest chamber, running footsteps broke the silence. With his hand on the hilt of his sword, he followed the sound to the corner ahead—and saw Linnet. She was looking over her shoulder and running hard right at him.
“Ahhh!” Linnet gave a piercing scream as he caught her.
Her eyes were as big as platters, and her chest rose and fell in rapid breaths, as if she had been badly frightened. And she was utterly filthy.
“Linnet, what has happened to you?”
She opened her mouth as if to speak, but then only shook her head.
Mother of God. Keeping his voice calm with an effort, he asked, “Are you hurt?”
When she shook her head again, relief poured through him.
“Come, my chamber is right here,” he said, guiding her with an arm around her shoulders. “We will get you cleaned up, and then find Francois.”
Her headdress was askew, and a dozen tiny braids had come uncoiled and fallen loose from the nets on either side of her face. How could a woman be such a mess and look more beautiful than ever?
“I had a small fright,” she said, her voice unnaturally high. “But I am all right now.”
“I am sure you are,” he said as he opened his chamber door and brought her inside.
He had forgotten that both his manservant and Martin would be in his chamber. They jumped to their feet and gawked openmouthed at Linnet, but had the grace to look away when she tilted her chin up and stared them down.
“Go now,” Jamie said in a low voice and tilted his head toward the door. The two murmured their hope that the lady was unharmed and filed out.
His manservant stuck his head back through the door to say, “The pitcher of water by the brazier should be warm now.”
Jamie nodded his thanks. With his free hand, he picked up the pitcher on his way to the wash table.