by Sandra Hill
'Twas not good to raise one's hopes too high. She knew that better than most women. But, oh, Sweet Mary, she had never dreamed the mating between a man and woman could be so glorious. A husband and a wife, she corrected herself immediately, with a contented smile.
My husband
Eadyth wanted to sing aloud with joy at all the new, wonderful feelings rippling through her. And, at the same time, she wanted to hold them close, in private, to examine and cherish them, lest they prove fragile and unreal.
She wriggled her bare toes against the horse's side and knew she would have to get her emotions and her appearance under control before they returned to Ravenshire. The servants would never respect her if she failed to uphold a certain level of conduct appropriate for the chatelaine of a keep, even one in such poor condition as Ravenshire. But it was pleasant to be free of those restraints for now.
Failing to stifle a yawn of contentment, Eadyth drew Eirik's attention. " 'Tis about time you awakened. My men await us just ahead."
Eadyth straightened immediately and tried to whisk the wrinkles out of her gunna and pull her hair back into a coil as best she could atop the horse. "How do I look? I mean, do I look like—"
"You look fine," Eirik said warmly, brushing some pieces of grass off her shoulder. A small, self-satisfied smile tipped the edges of his firm lips. Lips which looked erotically bruised from her many kisses.
Eadyth put her fingertips to her own lips, realizing that she probably looked the same, or worse. She felt a hot blush rise in her cheeks.
Oh, Lord.
Eirik grinned triumphantly.
"My shame pleases you, does it?"
"Nay, but you do." He gave her a quick kiss and seemed about to say more, but the horse had stopped and Wilfrid was approaching on foot.
Eirik dismounted. "Stay here," he ordered tersely, already walking over to Wilfrid, who began talking animatedly to him in low whispers which she could not overhear.
When Wilfrid finished, worry etched Eirik's features. And alarm swept over Eadyth in foreboding. Eirik turned to her once again. "Stay here, Eadyth. I will return shortly." He started to walk away.
"Nay, I will come with you."
He spun on his heels and snapped impatiently, "I said to stay here, and I mean what I say." He was soon gone from sight.
Just like that, he dismissed her, ordering her about like one of his chattel. Eadyth fumed. Because he had breached her and drawn a sigh or two from her lips, he now thought her besotted and lackbrained with lust for him. Like all his other wanton women.
"Not bloody likely," she muttered, dismounting awkwardly from the huge beast which stood contentedly grazing on a lush patch of grass. She made her way over to a small group of cotters' wives with two small children and an infant, huddling near one of the huts. Like her, they were all barefoot.
"I am Lady Eadyth of Ravenshire. What is amiss?" she asked an older woman with graying hair beneath a neat cap. The woman began to weep, something she had been doing for some time already if her red-rimmed eyes were any indication.
"The demons killed all our cattle. Oh, surely, Satan sent his very own. 'Twas inhuman the way they tortured the animals so."
Eadyth shuddered with apprehension. The despicable affair smacked of Steven's hand. "Did you see it happen?"
"Yea, we did, and a more horrible sight I have ne'er seen in all me days."
"They plucked the animals' innards out whilst they were still alive," a young boy spoke up, "and they threw the bloody parts to their vicious dogs. Like wolves they were, the men and the dogs. And they held ol' Bess down and let one rabid beast feast on her afore she even died." The boy's big brown eyes glistened with tears.
"Hush, Howag," the older woman said, not unkindly.
"How will we survive the winter?" a young woman wailed. "The master sez we cannot even eat the flesh, fer it be tainted by the dogs."
"Your master will take care of you. He will replace the cattle and repair your damaged property," Eadyth assured them, lifting the crying infant from the woman's arms. It smelled of soiled swaddling cloths and sour milk, but she did not mind. She had not held a babe in her arms since John was young, and it felt uncommonly good. "The best thing we can do is start to clear up the mess here whilst the men take care of the dead animals."
"But will the master agree to what ye say?" the old woman asked. "He has ne"er taken such interest in us afore."
"I say that it will be done," Eadyth said in a clipped voice, "and my word is enough."
The woman looked skeptical at Eadyth's assuming so much command but said nothing more.
Eadyth surveyed the clearing, clucking with disgust at the broken plows and overturned wagons that the vandals had destroyed wantonly in their retreat. Already she could smell the acrid odor of burning flesh as Eirik and his men set afire the slaughtered animals. Such a waste!
She gave the babe back to its mother, telling her to care for the infant's needs first. Then she ordered the women and children to help her set the small cluster of homes to rights. She sent Howag to Ravenshire, warning him to take the open road for safety, and told him to instruct Bertha to send a cow and a wagonload of feed and food supplies.
When the men returned an hour later, all the debris had been swept into two piles—one containing reparable items, and one which would need the men's work. A huge cauldron of rabbit bones and vegetables stewed in a savory broth, and flat, unleavened manchet bread baked in the hot coals of the open fire.
Eirik washed his bloody hands at a bucket near the well, then splashed water in huge handfuls onto his face, combing his hair back with his fingers. Suddenly, his eyes widened with surprise as he took note of Eadyth's presence across the clearing. His surprise soon turned to displeasure, however, when the old woman approached him, speaking hurriedly. Eirik glanced Eadyth's way intermittently as the woman talked to him.
When the woman left, Eirik regarded her questioningly. Then he walked over to Eadyth lazily, only the flare of his nostrils betraying his anger. He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his side, whispering against her hair, "You did not obey my order to stay with the horse."
"You have been gone more than an hour. Did you expect me to grow hooves and nibble on the grass all that time?"
"You miss the point. You disobey my orders at will, and that I cannot abide."
"I do not take orders well," she conceded, not wanting to argue with Eirik, especially after their recent lovemaking.
"That is an understatement," he growled. "Didst you make promises on my behalf to the cotters' wives?" Apparently, that was what the woman had been discussing with Eirik.
"Yea, I did," she admitted, suddenly realizing how inappropriate that would seem to Eirik, "but I assure you, I pledged naught that you would object to, my lord."
"Oh? So now you read my mind, as well?"
Eadyth tried to shrug off Eirik's arm which held her fast to his side. "Do not be so testy. I did what had to be done. You are just too stubborn to recognize that a woman can think for herself."
Eirik's eyes scanned the clearing, seeming to notice the good work she had done in his absence. "Even though you disobeyed my orders, I thank you for helping with the women."
Eadyth felt an uncommon satisfaction in knowing she had pleased him in this small way, despite the grudging manner in which he thanked her.
"Was it Steven who enacted this bloody crime?"
He nodded.
"He gets more bold in his exploits, coming so close to Ravenshire. 'Tis a challenge to us, do you not think?"
"Yea. Methinks this festering battle betwixt Gravely and me will come to a head soon."
" 'Tis not just your battle, Eirik. Remember, he wants my child. He wants me to drop my appeal afore the Witan."
"Yea, but I am responsible for your protection now. Best you remember that, my wife." Eirik pulled her closer, his large palm caressing her shoulder intimately as he spoke. And Eadyth realized suddenly that everyone was watching them in am
azement, no doubt because she was not the shrewish old crone they had thought her to be, but also because their stiff-backed lady was allowing herself to be held so possessively by the master.
'Did Eirik do it deliberately, to show his mastery over her? Eadyth narrowed her eyes suspiciously, casting a sidelong glance at him. He smiled down at her arrogantly. The cad!
Should she clout him on the head, as was her wont with an unruly servant? Oh, she would like to clout him, for sure, for taking such liberties in public, but not here, she decided. He was just as likely to clout her back. Or kiss her.
Oh, Lord.
Later. Later, she would get back at him.
Eirik's men and the villagers were beginning to serve themselves from the cauldron, no longer paying attention to them.
"Release me, you brute," she hissed, squirming out of his hold.
He laughed mirthlessly. "You will come home with me now, wife," Eirik said silkily and held out a hand to her. "I prefer to sup in my own hall."
"Are you ordering me... again?" she asked testily, trying hard to ignore the tempting hand he offered to her.
"And if I am?"
His lips twitched with a condescending smile, and Eadyth was equally torn between wanting to wipe it away with a slap, or a kiss.
Oh, Lord.
"Then my answer is 'nay,' " she declared, lifting her chin in defiance.
"A wife should obey her husband," he noted in a cool voice, no longer amused. His hand was still extended to her.
"Says who?"
"The Holy Church, for one."
"Which is made up of men," Eadyth scoffed.
"Why do you fight that which is natural for a woman?"
"Woman surrendering to man is not my idea of nautural."
"All I did was ask you to come home with me," he said, shaking his head wearily from side to side.
"Nay, you did not. You ordered me."
"Will it always be a contest of wills betwixt us?"
" 'Tis up to you."
Eirik studied her intently for a moment, rubbing his upper lip thoughtfully. "Will you come home with me?" he asked finally in concession.
"Of course," she answered brightly and entwined her fingers with his.
She thought she heard him mutter under his breath, "Blessed Lord, spare me from a contrary woman."
* * *
Eirik went to the pond to bathe with his men after dinner that evening, but Eadyth had a tub brought up to her chamber. She was just finishing her bath when he returned. With a small squeak of embarrassment, she sank deeper into the soapy water.
Eirik had not spoken with his wife since their return, other than small pleasantries during the evening meal. But he had much to say to her now, and she would not like the actions he felt compelled to take with her.
"Come," he said to the two male housecarls who followed behind him.
Eadyth cried out with dismay, "Get those men out of here! Get yourself out of here, as well, you lackbrain. Can I not even bathe in private now?"
Eirik ignored her screeching protests and began to pile all of Eadyth's garments onto the outstretched arms of the servants—her gunnas, undertunics, hose, mantles, every item of clothing he could find. Then he handed the men all of his own apparel and the bed linens. After telling the men to store the items in the adjacent bedchamber, he locked the door and deposited the key in a loop at his belt.
"Have you lost your bloody mind?" Eadyth shouted when they were alone.
"Nay," Eirik said, drawing a low stool close to the tub. Putting his hands to his chin and elbows on his knees, he gazed at his wife, trying hard to ignore the sight of Eadyth's damp curls cascading over the edge of the tub, and the curve of her breasts barely hidden by the murky water. Finally, he explained, "I am merely ensuring that you do not leave this room 'til we have come to an agreement, even if it takes a sennight. Or more."
"A sennight!"
Eadyth scowled at him in disbelief. He saw the moment her confusion turned to hurt, then rage, at his domineering act. In that moment, Eirik saw the new, wonderful relationship that he had envisioned flowering between them being nipped in the bud.
"Do not do this, Eirik," she pleaded softly, closing her eyes as if on a sudden wrenching pain. "I will never be able to forgive you, and I crave... harmony."
"I must, Eadyth. You force me into this position," he said, trying to make her understand. "From the day we met, you have challenged me, both in private and in front of my people. Your masquerade is just one example. Your flaunting my orders today and making decisions for me were just part of a series of acts I can no longer tolerate."
And there was another reason, one which he could not disclose to Eadyth. One of his cotters had overheard Steven of Gravely this morn as he boasted of a plan to kidnap the Lady of Ravenshire and hold her hostage for his son. Even now, Eirik's blood boiled and his fists clenched at the unspeakable acts Gravely had planned for Eadyth whilst in his snare.
Eirik could not chance Steven getting his depraved hands on Eadyth, and he knew his stubborn wife would never willingly restrict herself to the inside of the keep. When it came to her own safety, she was too lax. Oh, she would promise to take care, but the first time a new lamb birthed, or her bees swarmed, or she heard of a bargain to be had on some piddling product in Jorvik, she would leave the defenses of Ravenshire without a thought for her well-being.
"You make too much of my willful ways," she argued, interrupting his thoughts. She continued to lie immersed in the cooling bathwater, and he wanted so much to tell her that her willful ways were part of her charm. He wanted to pull her from the tub, into his arms, and resume where they had left off earlier that day in the glen.
But he could not. Not yet. "Willful! You underestimate your temperament, my lady. If I am to stay at Ravenshire, I must have the respect of my men and my people."
"But—"
Eirik held up a hand to stop her next words. "There can be only one master of a keep. And I am it, my lady."
She eyed him warily. "So I am to be punished for my headstrong ways. Is that what this prison is about?" she asked, waving her hand to indicate the locked room.
" 'Tis a prison only if you want it to be."
She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Exactly what is it you ask of me?"
"We can discuss the details later," he said, reaching for a drying towel. "You are turning blue with cold."
She knocked the towel he handed her to the floor. "Tell me." Her eyes glittered furiously, and she panted through parted lips. Deliciously parted lips.
Could he tell her the truth about Steven and his fears for her? Nay, he decided, 'twas too dangerous a risk to take until he had more time to ensure her obedience. He must protect her at all costs. Steeling himself, he continued, "I will make all decisions related to Ravenshire—its defenses, its farms and crops, its cotters and thralls. 'Twill not be necessary for you to leave the walls of the keep. If you have aught to suggest about the management of Ravenshire, I will listen, of course, but the final decision will be mine, as it should be."
"And in your absence?"
"Really, Eadyth, you make too much of this."
"And in your absence?" she demanded icily.
This conversation was not going at all the way Eirik had planned. Oh, he had known Eadyth would protest his new rules, but he had not expected to feel so guilty. "You will confer with Wilfrid in my absence."
"Confer or defer?"
Eirik felt his face turn hot, and he refused to answer.
"And my beekeeping business? Will you take that away from me, too?"
"Eadyth, I am taking naught away from you. You should be glad I remove these burdens from your shoulders." Even he realized how weak his arguments sounded as he floundered for the right words. "You will be free to—"
"I asked you a question, husband. Please give me the courtesy of an answer," she sneered. "What about my beekeeping business?"
"You may continue to tend your bees and make your honey and
mead and candles, but I do not want you going into Jorvik to conduct your business. 'Tis too dangerous. And unseemly."
"You bastard!"
Furious, she stood in the tub, swishing water over the sides, uncaring of her nudity. For one brief moment, Eirik's blood rushed to all his vital parts and his heart slammed against his rib cage as he glimpsed Eadyth's statuesque beauty.
But then she grabbed the small drying cloth, holding it in front of her body, and said in a calm, icy voice, "Get out. Get out of this chamber afore I kill you with my bare hands. I do not care if you lock me in this chamber for the rest of my life. I will never agree to those terms. Never."
Tears filled her luminous eyes, but she blinked repeatedly, stubbornly refusing to allow them to flow. Eirik felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach.
"I never wanted this marriage. I told you the first time we met that women lose their independence when they wed. I thought you were different, damn you." Then she added, more softly, "I thought you were different."
He reached out a hand to her.
She swatted it away.
"Eadyth, trust me, please. It may only be for a short time, and then—"
"Why should I trust you?" she shrieked. "And why for only a short time? Do you mean if I prove biddable, like a cow-eyed maiden? Or if I bow whenever you enter a room? Or simper at every word of wisdom that oozes from your mouth?"
Eirik gritted his teeth, no longer feeling so conciliatory. "Let us go to bed, Eadyth. It has been a long day. We can discuss this more in the morn, when you are more calm."
"God above! You must have porridge for brains if you think I will sleep next to you this night..." A sudden thought occurred to her then and her face turned bright red before she continued, ". . . or spread my thighs for you, you miserable wretch."
"We will sleep together, wife," Eirik assured her, stepping toward her as she backed away, still clutching the ridiculously small cloth to her body, leaving her long legs and so much more exposed. He had a sudden inclination to feel those legs wrapped around his waist and that mouth moaning under his kisses. "Yea, we will sleep together. Furthermore, you will wear the one garment I have left for you."