“Did he promise marriage to you?”
“Yea, he did… afore he got what he wanted of me.”
“And that was?”
Eadyth cut him with a sharp look that said even he was not that lackbrained. She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest, then immediately wished she had not when his eyes settled on her seemingly flat breasts. She dropped her arms with a small sound of disgust and said boldly, looking him directly in the eye, “He lusted for my body.” At the skeptical expression on his face, she added with a shrug, “I had a lust-provoking body in those days.”
He snickered.
She glared.
“And did you lust for him, as well?”
Eadyth gasped. Truly, this conversation had gone too far. She pressed her lips tightly together to halt the crude expletives she wanted to hurl at him. Then, weighted by a deep sense of shame, she admitted in a soft, bitter voice, “I mistook lust for love, on both our parts. But I was soon shaken of that halfwitted notion.”
“How so?” Eirik persisted, his face solemnly intent.
“When I discovered my pregnancy and went to him, fully expecting a quick betrothal and wedding, as he had promised, he laughed in my face. He disclaimed paternity.” Eadyth glared at him stonily, angry that he had forced this humiliating admission from her. It was a subject she never discussed. “I refuse to speak more of that devil’s spawn with you.”
” ‘Tis one subject, at least, on which we can agree—the evil character of Steven of Gravely.”
“Yea, ’tis.”
“Once you discovered his betrayal, did you not consider seeking a midwife to help you…”
“What?” she prompted, failing to understand his meaning.
She noticed his lips tense whitely as he hesitated before voicing what seemed to be an important question to him. “Some women would have found a means to rid themselves of an unwanted child. Did you make such an attempt, and fail?”
“Nay!” she cried out. “How could you even ask? John is the only good, pure thing to come of that hateful… liaison.” Eadyth tried to bank her anger at Eirik’s insulting question. When she was finally able to speak below a shout, she added, “You have a very low opinion of women, my lord. I wonder why.”
He stared at her thoughtfully for several long moments, rubbing that infernal mustache. His bemused expression finally faded as he seemed to make a decision. “Wait here,” he ordered as he stood and approached the door. “I must get something.”
When he returned a short time later, he carried a small, linen-wrapped bundle which he placed on the table. Then he sat down in the chair next to her and drew her dowry document from his tunic. He motioned her to pull her chair closer to the table.
“Afore I call Wilfrid to witness our signatures, I would set my own conditions to our betrothal agreement, my lady.”
Startled, Eadyth stared at him questioningly. “You intend to wed me?”
Eirik’s lips spread over a rueful grin, as if he himself could not believe that he was about to act so foolishly.
“Yea, God help me, I do.”
At first, Eadyth’s mind failed to register the significance of Eirik’s words. Mixed feelings warred within her—relief that John would be protected by the marriage vows, countered by her desperation over the hateful bonds. She did not loathe men, only their lusty ways, and yet she felt herself drawn by Eirik’s handsome masculinity.
“Why?”
Eirik threw back his head and laughed. ” ‘Tis an odd question for a bride to ask.”
“I am not the usual bride, and you well know it. ‘Tis obvious you find the prospect of marrying me distasteful. Did my dower tempt you? Did you decide you could use it to restore Ravenshire?”
Eirik blinked with surprise, then burst out laughing again. “Mayhap I am more like Steven. Mayhap I lust after your lush body.” He wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously.
Eadyth felt a hated blush creep up her neck and across her cheeks, and she snorted with disgust at his making sport at her expense. He was too frivolous, by far.
” ‘Tis not my body, lush or not, that will be a part of our betrothal agreement.”