But John saw him and called out, “Father.”
His heart lurched at the boy’s easy acceptance of him, and Eirik was forced to hold out his arms when John rushed with a flying leap into his embrace, wrapping his skinny legs around Eirik’s waist and his arms around his neck. Emma and Larise jumped off the bed, as well, and ran over, twining their arms around his legs. Godric, the orphan boy, stood to the side shyly, holding back Prince who was yipping and yapping, tail wagging like a fan.
His throat constricted, and at first he could not speak.
“Are you gonna teach us how to have a spitting contest now, Father? Huh? Huh?” John prodded. “You promised.”
He remembered, with a chuckle, his playful boast days ago that, when he was a boy John’s age, he could spit the straightest stream from the castle tower to the motte.
“Oh, John, you and your spitting!” Larise exclaimed condescendingly. His oldest daughter loved to lord it over John, though she was only one year older than he. “Father is going to show me how to dance.”
Eadyth quirked her eyebrows in question. “Dance?” she mouthed silently.
He had no opportunity to answer her as the children demanded his attention. Soon he was laughing heartily as their youthful mirth blended around him in a warm cocoon.
“Larise does not believe you can pick up a piece of straw with your toes,” John informed him, casting a scornful look down his nose at Larise. He looked a lot like Eadyth just then. Haughtiness, no doubt, ran in their blood, Eirik decided.
He glanced up and caught the amused eyes of his willful wife, who was moving off the bed, shaking her head at his foolishness. Their eyes connected and held. And, for a moment, he forgot that he was supposed to be angry with her for running off to Hawks’ Lair. He just wanted to shoo the children from the chamber and lay his wife upon their bed. The fragile thread that held them in thrall grew taut with tension, then changed shape and grew stronger, pulling and binding them in a strange, new, compelling way.
“Or else we could have a pissing contest,” John offered.
And Eirik’s dulled senses jarred back to life.
“John!” Eadyth cried out. “How could you?”
Larise and Emma and Godric giggled.
“That is not proper language to use in front of ladies,” Eirik said sternly, fighting to control his twitching lips.
John hung his head shamefacedly.
Abdul decided to contribute his wisdom then by shrieking, “Pissing. Awk. Pissing. Awk. Pissing. Awk.” And Eirik realized, to his chagrin, that the word would no doubt be a permanent addition to the barmy bird’s coarse vocabulary.
” ‘Twould not be a fair contest anyway,” Larise informed Emma authoritatively, in a sisterly fashion, “because boys have their barrel taps outside the body. Gives an unfair advantage.”
Eirik looked at his daughter, then Eadyth, with stunned amazement.
Then they all burst out laughing.
* * *
A sennight later, Eadyth sat with Eirik at the high table, following the midday meal. “Thank you for your help with Emma these past days,” he said, placing a hand over hers. “I see more improvement every day.” He glanced at his daughter, who nestled in his lap, half asleep.
Eadyth looked down with alarm at Eirik’s hand which lay casually over hers. His mere touch set her pulse racing, despite her continuing anger over the visit he had made to his mistress Asa. She tried to ignore the warm yearnings which grew stronger and hotter, day by day, especially considering the fact that they had not shared a bed since the night Eadyth had seduced her wretch of a husband.
She should pull her hand away. She should fight this mounting attraction. For the moment, she did nothing.
“Do you think Emma will ever completely recover?” she asked.
Eirik traced his upper lip distractedly, and Eadyth wished she could do the same. His lips were full and firm, masculine. And Eadyth knew too well how they felt when they moved expertly against hers, shifting, shaping, coaxing…
“What are you thinking?”
“Huh?”
“You asked me if I thought Emma would recover, and I said I see more and more progress everyday. Then I asked what you thought, but your eyes were glazed and you were staring at me oddly.”