She looked up at him with blank surprise. “Enjoy you? That is a cruel jest no woman would believe after the first time. Aye, you’re right, Severin. It is all my fault. I think you should have hurt me because what you did was your punishment. Aye, you showed your weakness by using the cream. You should have showed me how very merciless you are, what a powerful warrior you are, how I am nothing compared to you. Am I truly supposed to enjoy you? Am I truly supposed to scream with delight when you drag me to the bed, insult me, and stuff yourself into me? ” She turned on her bare heel and left the bedchamber.
He yelled, “Don’t you dare leave. I did not give you permission.”
But she didn’t turn. She closed the door very quietly. Slowly, Severm sank back down into the water. He finished bathing himself. There Was only the drying cloth she had used. It was damp. He dried himself as
as he could, then slowly he began to dress. Trist made no sounds. e just looked at his master, his eyes dark and clear.
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“She continues to fight me, Trist. I did not hurt her. You saw that I did not hurt her. She just lay beneath me like a sacrifice. Aye, she was soft and warm, but she wasn’t there, Trist. She cared not.
“I did not wish to marry, Trist. We made our way quite well until we returned to Langthorne, and there was naught but devastation, and you know I had to have an heiress then. Ah, and now I have everything a man could wish. I am a man of substance, a man of worth. What is a wife? An annoyance, nothing more. I will take her, be she an unmoving log.”
The marten kept staring, making no sound.
“She is but a woman, a wife, she must learn to obey me. She threw water on me, all because I was looking at Alice’s bottom, and you saw how Alice was sticking her bottom nearly into my face. And then even that one turned on me. Alice said I was just a man but that she and Hastings had been friends for a long time. Surely that makes no sense at all. Of course I am a man. What did she mean just a man? A man is a cornplete man, not just a man, whatever that means. And I am the master here, not some sort of low villain. All that is here is mine.
“What is going on, Trist? Mayhap I could have gone more gently with her, but I doubt it would have mattered. Besides, she deserved my force. And still she won’t obey me. Still she said she hated me. Still she call?8 me an animal. I saved her from Richard de Luci. Well, perhaps not exactly, but I would have if his assassin hadn’t stabbed me before I could hunt the bastard down. Damnation, Trist, what have I done to deserve her woman’s spleen?”
The marten closed his eyes and rested his head on his front paws.
Severin grunted and dressed in clean clothing, his tunic a rich pewter gray. He wished his damned squire, Mark, would come to help him. Mark treated his every word, his every request, with deference. Mark never goaded him or pushed him off his verbal course with wit. He would have to do something about Hastings. He just didn’t know what yet.
Hastings remained in her chamber, sorting and mixing herbs, humming, as was her wont, for it calmed her. She wiped her brain clean or
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concentrating on the blossoms and stems on the flat board in front f her Dame Agnes came in some moments later, bringing a tray. “You ill eat something, Hastings. I will not have you sicken just because you do not know how to handle your husband.”
Hastings was so startled she knocked over three foxglove stems, the blossoms thick and beautiful. She was on her knees in a moment, picking them up. She said without looking at her old nurse, “Did you know that the ancient Druids considered foxgloves their own flower? They believed that each blossom looked like a Druid hat.”