The Key by Lynsay Sands Page B

her
     side. “What are you doing, my lady?”
    “Trying to get the blasted key out of the drapes. Find me something long to fetch it out
     with. I fear I have an urgent need to relieve myself.”
    The maid's eyes widened at that, and she made a brief search of the room, coming up with a
     poker from beside the fire. “Will this do?”
    “Aye, it should.” Taking the poker, Iliana began jabbing at the material again. “Did
     you... He... You did not wear that thing all the night long, did you?” “Aye.” After a
     brief silence, the woman asked, “Was his lordship very put out?” “My husband passed out on
     the floor last night. He did not awake 'til morn.” “But the sheets were”
    “He cut his hand and spread the blood on the linens. My best linens,” she added grimly.
    “He knows not about the belt, then?” Ebba ventured hopefully as she eyed with distaste the
     single item of clothing her mistress was wearing.
    “He knows. He found out this morn after everyone left.”
    “How did he react?”
    “How do you think?” she asked dryly, then cried out with relief as the key finally slid
     off of the drapes. Dropping the poker on the bed, she jumped to the floor to retrieve the
     small item, sighing with mingled relief and pleasure as she finally clasped it in her hand.
    “What will you do?”
    Iliana looked surprised. “Why, take it off, of course.” Just as Ebba began to look
     relieved, she added, “ 'Twill be nice to be without it for a few minutes at least.”
    The woman gaped at her. “Surely you do not intend to put it back on?”
    “Of course.” She frowned over her maid's disapproving expression. “I told you last night,
     Ebba. I shall not live like this. I will have a clean home, a clean bed, and a clean man
     in it. If it kills us both,” she added on a mutter as she unlocked the belt.
    “Gilley.”Duncancauglit the smithy's arm as he drew abreast of him and urged him to a halt,
     forcing a stiff smile to his own lips as he did. He had meant to have a word with the man
     directly on leaving the bedchamber that mom. Howbeit, he had been caught up by one concern
     or another all morning. Now, when it was Hearingmidday, he had finally managed to get away
     long enough to seek out the locksmith. “I would have a word with ye.”
    Gilley hesitated, then nodded. “Aye, but yer da is awaitin' me inside. He wishes another
     set of keys made. Fer yer bride,” he explained whenDuncanlooked perplexed.
    “Why would she be needin' a set of keys?”
    “She is chatelaine now,” the man pointed out with surprise.
    Duncangrunted over that, then shrugged it aside. “I shall be quick. Tis about locks and
     keys I wished to speak with ye as well. Ye see, I have this lock I need to unlock, but I
     have no key and kenned mayhap ye could tell me how to do it?”
    He blinked. “Well, if ye bring it to me, I can surely do it fer ye.”
    Duncanimagined carting Iliana to the locksmith's hut, setting her on his table, and
     throwing her skirts over her head to reveal the lock. Nay, 'twas not an option. The tale
     would reach every comer of the keep ere the nooning meal. Besides, he did not like the
     idea of having another man's eyes on his wife's belt of chastity. Or what it hid.
    “Nay. I canna be doin' that. Tis not possible.” He shook his head firmly. “Ye'll have to
     be tellin' me how todoitonmeown.”
    The locksmith frowned. “I canna be tellin' ye how, less I be seein' the lock in question.
     If ye canna bring it to me, then surely I can be goin' to it?”
    “Nay. Ye canna.” He scowled irritably. “Just tell me how to open locks.”
    “If 'twas that easy, everyone would be a locksmith. I canna help ye less I see it.”
    “Well... Damn!” Reaching for the sword at his belt, he tugged it from his sheath and used
     it to chaw a rough sketch of the lock in the dirt at their feet. “There,” he said with
     satisfaction as he finished the picture. “Does that