Her eyes shot up at that. “Since when?”
“Since the day you barged into my keep, kicked my dog and started managing my life.”
“I never kicked your dog,” she protested. ” ‘Twas a soft nudge.” Then his other words sunk in, and her face colored. “What about Asa?”
“What about her?”
“Do not play games with me, Eirik. You went to her house.”
“And… ?”
“Eirik, I told you the first time we met that you could have your mistresses as long as you did not bring them to Ravenshire. Well… well, if that is what you want…”
“Eadyth… Eadyth… Eadyth,” he said softly, shaking his head. “If you ever say again that you do not care if I have a mistress, I think I may just—”
“I never said I did not care,” she declared vehemently. ” ‘Tis because I care and want you to be happy that I will not play the shrewish wife.”
He raised his brows mockingly. “Really? I do not know if I like that idea. I have grown rather fond of… shrewish tongues.”
She made a clucking sound, so like her usual self. He wanted to squeeze her with sheer joy. “Eadyth, I have not been with Asa since before our betrothal.”
She stilled suddenly, and he noticed the trembling of her hands as she laid aside her packing to study him. “Why are you here, Eirik?”
“Why did you come to Jorvik?” he countered.
Her eyelashes fluttered downward and she said, barely above a whisper, “To convince you to come home.”
“Well, convince me.”
She glanced up at him sideways, trying to guess his mood. “Will you come home?” she asked, lifting her haughty chin to the ceiling, as if anticipating a negative answer.
He pretended to ponder her question and moved away from the door toward her. He picked her traveling bag up off the bed and laid it on the floor, then sat down wearily on the mattress. He drew her down beside him.
Eadyth wanted to shake an answer from her husband, and she wanted to remain pridefully silent. More than anything, she wanted to save her marriage. “Eirik, I have made mistakes,” she choked out, “but I think I could change.”
Eirik grinned disbelievingly at her. And Eadyth’s heart flipped over. Blessed Lord, he was a handsome man.
“I need to be able to trust you, Eadyth. I cannot abide lies. I just cannot.”
“I know, and I am sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“You always do.” Fine lines webbed his eyes and the edges of his mouth. He looked exhausted and heart weary, and Eadyth cried inwardly that she had caused him so much pain.
Eirik took her hand in his and traced the betrothal scar at her wrist. Eadyth’s pulse jumped under the tender caress. Then he entwined their fingers so that their two scars met. “Heart of my heart,” he murmured, repeating their betrothal vows. And Eadyth’s heart felt as if it were expanding in her chest. So many feelings unfurled and rippled through her senses. There was no way to express them all.
So, of course, she started to weep.
“What shall we do, Eadyth?” Eirik asked, wiping the tears with the fingertips of his free hand.
“I do not know,” she said on a sob. “What do you want?”
He looked at her levelly. “A wife to love, who would love me in return. A family. A warm home.” He held her gaze for a long moment, then added on a whisper, “You.”
Eadyth’s heart stopped beating for a moment. Then she threw herself at him, knocking him backward onto the bed as she kissed his face and neck and ears and hair, crying the entire time. Her head-rail slipped off and its gold circlet fell to the floor with a metallic clink.
“Oh, Eirik, I promise you will not be sorry. I am going to be the most biddable wife in the world.”
He laughed with disbelief against her neck as he swept his palms up and down her back, from her shoulders to her thighs, over and over.
” ‘Tis true, and I will never, never lie to you again.”