Eirik threw back his head and laughed uproariously. When he finally regained his composure, he shook his head, amazed at her devious mind. ” ‘Twould seem you have thought of everything. But what makes you think the king’s council would heed such a belated request for custody from the father?”
Eadyth leaned closer to explain. “King Edmund has supported me at the Witan against… against this horrible man these many years, mainly in deference to my father who served him loyally, as he did his brother King Athelstan afore him. ‘Twas the wound my father sustained at the Battle of Leicester, in Edmund’s service, that led to his death. My position has weakened with my father’s death.”
“Edmund is a good man. He does not renege on his promises of protection.”
Eadyth raised a hand to indicate there was more. “As you well know, many attempts have been made on the king’s life, and Steven, the unspeakable fiend, toadies up to young Edred, who is bound to be his heir since Edmund’s children are so young. There is no question Steven will succeed if Edred takes the throne.”
She sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes wearily. She was deathly tired of all the turmoil, and now she would have to start her search all over again. After several moments, she noticed Eirik’s odd silence. When she opened her eyes, his dark, angry expression stunned her, all the emotion seemingly directed her way.
“Wha-at?” she gasped as he stood abruptly, without warning, and grabbed her by the upper arms, lifting her out of the chair and up off the floor so she faced him, nose to nose, with her arms pinned at her sides.
“The father of your child—do you perchance refer to that nithing, Steven of Gravely?” he asked in a steely voice.
Eadyth nodded, realizing she must have inadvertently spoken Steven’s name. And she could not deny that Steven deserved that most offensive of insults, nithing—the lowest of all men.
“You spread your legs for that slimy snake and dare to question my character?”
He shook her so hard her teeth clicked together. She knew she would bear bruises on the morrow. Leaning her head back, she gazed into his icy eyes. His stormy countenance frightened her, but she refused to defend herself to this loathsome lout. In truth, only a woman could understood what she had done with Steven and why his betrayal had cut so deep.
Finally, he dropped her to her feet. Wagging a finger in her face, he ordered in a voice that brooked no argument, “You will remain in my keep this night. We will talk more in the morn when I have had time to think through all you have told me. God’s blood! Steven of Gravely! I can hardly credit the coincidence.”
“I do not understand.” Eadyth’s mind reeled with confusion.
“You need not understand, wench,” he told her with contempt, “but know this: you may very well have a marriage pact yet. And may the Good Lord and all the saints have mercy on your hide then. For I will not.”
Chapter Two
Eadyth awakened at dawn the next morning. Truth be told, she lay wide-eyed long before first light, thanks to her flea-infested bedding.
Her servant was sleeping on a pallet laid over the dirty rushes near the door. Poor Girta! The vermin had probably held a bloody feast on her plump flesh. On closer inspection, though, Eadyth noticed that her trusted maid was snoring evenly, undisturbed by the pests.
Perhaps Girta’s hide was thicker, or more likely Eadyth’s fair skin just tasted sweeter, she thought, chuckling softly. Hah! The insufferable master of this crumbling heap of a castle would beg to differ on that subject, she would wager.
Eadyth stepped over her prone maid, whose mouth now played a veritable chorus of sounds—soft snores interspersed with a few contented grunts and wheezes. She gazed fondly down at the stout woman who had served her faithfully these many years, first as nurse when her mother died in her birthing, now as companion.
Looking for a bowl of water, she hoped to refresh herself before facing Eirik’s stormy resistance once again. She could find none. In fact, not only had the fire gone cold in her room, but an air of total silence encompassed the halls outside. Surely, the Ravenshire servants ought to be about by now, preparing for the new day.