“Such a coward you are, Hastings. You are like a whipped dog. You slink away.”
Hastings knew in that instant that she wouldn’t have stopped herself even if she thought about it for a long year. She whirled about and threw herself at Marjorie, grabbing her glorious silvery hair and pulling with all her strength. “Bitch! You damnable bitch!”
Marjorie wasn’t a weakling. Soon the women were rolling in the dirt, shrieking at each other, poking each other, but it was Hastings who did
not release Marjorie’s hair. She scratched Hastings’s face, kicked her in the belly, managed to roll over on top of her, all the while trying to get her hair free of Hastings’s fist.
Severin couldn’t believe his eyes. None of the men could. Severin cursed even as he ran to them, waving Gwent back. He clamped his hands under Marjorie’s armpits and lifted her off Hastings. Still Hastings didn’t let go of her hair. Marjorie shrieked in pain and kicked out, hitting Hastings in the belly again.
“Let her go, Hastings! Damnation, don’t hurt the babe.”
Hastings saw her husband over her, holding Marjorie, and without a word she released the hair. She was left with a good-sized tangle in her hand. That pleased her.
Severin set Marjorie on her feet.
“What is happening here?”
Slowly Hastings rose. Her sleeve was Tom free from her gown. She was filthy, but on the other hand, so was Marjorie.
She felt the small rivulets of blood streaking down her left cheek. It was nothing. She had a fistful of Marjorie’s hair. She smiled at the woman and tossed the wad of hair into a mud puddle beside her.
She said in a voice bright as the sun overhead, “Why, my lord, Marjorie wants to return to Sedgewick. She is unhappy here. When I told her that I wanted her to remain, that you as well wished her to stay, she became angry. She values her independence; she values caring for Eloise by herself. She wants to leave.”
“I am tired of your lies, Hastings.” He turned to Marjorie, whose lip was bleeding and swelled. That made Hastings feel very good as well.
Hastings said, “Are you not used to all my lies by now, Severin? Can you not picture me pouring poison into my own wine goblet? Can you not imagine that I spilled it on purpose for Trist to drink?”
Severin whirled about to face her, his hands on his hips. “Be quiet, Hastings. Hold your sharp tongue. What happened? Why are you like two fishwives trying to kill each other? ”
)’
9 Q 7,
Marjorie only shrugged. “It is a private matter, my lord, nothing to concern you. Your wife has no control. You have remarked on that before. Indeed, you punished her for being so ungoverned. She has not learned. Mayhap she needs more nights next to Edgar.”
Hastings took a step toward her. Severin quickly stepped between them. “No, no more. There will be no more fighting between the two of you, else I will punish both of you. Go now. You are both filthy as Edgar after a boar hunt.”
Marjorie was whistling as she walked through the great hall.
“Hastings, wait a moment.”
She turned to see Gwent staring at her, his distress evident. He walked to her. “I have come to a decision, Hastings,” he said, lightly touching her shoulder. “I will see that the woman is returned to Sedgewick. All want peace again at Oxborough. There will be none as long as the woman remains here. You are not able to deal well with her. You carry the lord’s heir. I will see to it.”
“Severin will not let her go,” Hastings said, shrugged, and walked up the solar stairs.
“Aye, he will,” Gwent called after her. “I have spoken to Lady Moraine and she has told her son what he must do.”
As if that would make any difference, Hastings thought, wincing at a pain in her left leg. When had Marjorie kicked her in the leg?
In the dark of the night, Hastings was in a deep sleep, dreaming of the lupine that bloomed so vividly in her garden, and how the lupine was really a deadly poison and someone was going to pour it into Severin’s goblet. Then something wasn’t right. There were no more lupines. There was the light touch of a hand on her belly. The hand was pressing ever so gently, lightly, stroking her belly, touching the pelvic bones, gently rubbing over the scar from her wound.