Eirik put his arm around her shoulder and drew her protectively against his side. For now, she felt safe. But who knew what the morrow would bring.
Later that day, Eirik took her into the underground level of the castle to show her a secret exit from the keep, one they might use in the plan against Steven of Gravely. She had never realized there was a secret entrance to the below-ground level from behind a panel in the great hall.
Mainly, the rooms held old weapons and discarded furniture. Eadyth eyed the broken chairs and tables and bedsteads closely, thinking some might be salvaged for the cotters’ huts.
“What is in that locked chamber?” she asked.
“Treasures,” Eirik said offhandedly. He was squinting in the dim light as he gingerly picked up a rusted sword and put it out of harm’s way.
“Treasures? What treasures?”
Eirik looked at her and shrugged. “Coins. Jewels. Fabrics.”
A ripple of annoyance passed over Eadyth. “May I see?” she asked sweetly.
Eirik’s head shot up at her oozing tone, but he drew a large key from the ring at his waist and opened the creaking door. Then, taking a torch from where he had placed it in a wall sconce, he led the way.
Eadyth gasped. She could not believe her eyes. Everywhere she looked, she saw incredible riches—chests overflowing with jewels and gold coins, fine silks and rich wools, several ivory tusks, casks of wine, scented oils, tapestries, heavy plates and silver cutlery.
She turned on her husband and shoved his chest with the palms of both hands. “You tightfisted troll! How could you?”
“Wha-at?” he said, backing away.
“You must have been laughing heartily at my meager dowry. You let me think you were impoverished, you lout.”
“Well, I did laugh. But only a little.”
She was not amused and glowered her displeasure at him. He was leaning against the wall, grinning at her, totally without remorse. The boor.
“Now, Eadyth, do not get your hackles up. You told me you did not care about riches and such.”
“Do not play me for a lackwit, husband. You know good and well, ’tis one thing to not care about riches, and another to have to slave to make ends meet.”
“Slave? You exaggerate.”
“How would you know? Oh, when I think how you made me feel guilty for ordering a few piddling sheep, and—”
“Twenty.”
” ‘What?”
“You ordered twenty sheep, Eadyth, not a few.”
“Oh.” She had not been aware that Eirik kept such a close eye on her management of his keep.
“And the cow! There was one mere cow to serve this keep when I arrived.”
“There are eight now. I wonder how they got here,” he remarked dryly, raising a brow pointedly. And Eadyth was amazed once again that Eirik had been more observant than she had realized.
Then he ducked his head sheepishly. “I was going to get more cows myself. I just never got around to it.”
Her upper lip curled contemptuously. “Tell me, Eirik, why do you live so penuriously?”
” ‘Tis not wise for a Norseman—even a half-Viking, such as myself—to provoke the envy of his Saxon neighbors.”
Eadyth understood then, but that did not explain Eirik’s failure to tell her, his wife.
“How did you think I was paying all the new soldiers I have brought to Ravenshire?” He tugged playfully on one of the curly strands of her hair while he spoke, wrapping it around his finger.
Eadyth felt her face grow hot. “I had not considered that. No doubt, you were muddling my thoughts at the time.”
“Yea, I am rather good at… muddling. Am I not?” He grinned at her and forced her closer by pulling on the lock of hair still wrapped around his finger. She tried to ignore the sweet heat he was stoking with his mere closeness.
“Oh, you are outrageous! And Asa, your mistress—this is how you paid her, is it not?” Eadyth waved her hand at the room’s contents, and her throat tightened at the thought. Fool that she was, she had even expected Eirik to use some of her profits to pay off his mistress. Instead, he had, no doubt, laid vast riches at her feet. Mayhap he had not even ended his relationship with her.