Eirik raised one brow in mocking question, his thick black lashes forming spidery shadows over the oddly pale eyes.
“Oh? Will it not? Hmmm. We shall see.”
Her heart hammering with alarm, Eadyth looked to see what Eirik meant by his cryptic remark, but his head was bent over the document as he scratched out his own conditions on the bottom.
Eadyth closed her eyes wearily.
Am I making an even bigger mistake, casting my lot with the Lord of Ravenshire?
Chapter Three
Eirik’s words about the betrothal agreement finally sank in, and Eadyth bristled. So now she would find out what he really wanted of her.
“Conditions? What is your meaning?” she demanded in a deliberately cronish voice as Eirik painstakingly scratched words at the bottom of her document.
She was pleased to see him wince at the abrasiveness of her cackling voice, even as he ignored her question and kept writing. He held the sheet some distance away from him as he wrote, squinting occasionally.
Eadyth’s brow furrowed in puzzlement at his odd motion. Then a soft smile touched her lips as, suddenly enlightened, she realized that he must have difficulty seeing things close up, just as her own father had.
So this was why he mistook her frowns for wrinkles and could not tell ashes from a gray complexion. Now she understood why the color of her hair and the deliberate stoop of her shoulders had fooled him so easily.
She almost laughed aloud with glee. This slight deception was not something she had planned originally, but any device that forestalled the distasteful touch of a lusty man would be more than welcome.
Eirik did not notice her quickly suppressed smile, so hard was he concentrating on his writing. Finally he expelled a long breath of satisfaction and leaned back in the chair, pushing the betrothal agreement toward her. The expectant gleam in his eyes warned her that she would not like the conditions he had set.
Eadyth carefully averted her face, knowing Eirik was watching closely as she read. His eyesight could not be too dim. After all, it did not lessen his abilities as a seasoned knight, if his reputation rang true. She had to remind herself to bend her shoulders slightly, as well, and occasionally she peered up at him through the open fingers of a hand coyly fanned over her lower face, as if his overwhelming masculinity turned her shy. Hah! She would have much to confess in this deceit when next she saw Father Benedict.
“Do you understand the words, my lady?”
“Yea, I can read well enough.” She continued to scan his words, then protested, ” ‘Tis not necessary for you to provide a foster-lean for me. My father is dead.”
“A husband is expected to pay the father of the bride for past nurture. In his absence, I give you his due.”
Eadyth lifted her chin proudly, defiantly, and scratched that provision from the document. “Claiming paternity for my son is foster-lean enough for me.”
Eirik shrugged.
“And I do not crave any portion of your property as the morgen-gifu. My morning gift will be your promise of protection. You have already told me your estates will go to your brother.”
Eirik looked her directly in the eyes. “And if we have a son, or sons? What then?”
Eadyth felt her face flush. She wanted to remind him of the nature of this marriage, but could not find the words. Sons! “Have you mistaken my proposal of marriage for something other than a business arrangement?”
“A business arrangement! Never have I met a woman like you afore. Never!” he exclaimed, shaking his head from side to side with disbelief. He waved her protests aside with one hand and said, “Let it stand for now. With the dangers my brother Tykir faces daily, I will no doubt outlive him anyway.”
Then she read his last conditions and alarm swept over her like a heat flash. “I cannot accept what you ask of me.”
“Oh, what do you find objectionable?” he drawled, extending his long legs languorously, crossing them at the ankles. The worn fabric of his tight braies pulled taut on his thighs, and Eadyth stared, open-mouthed, for a lengthy moment at their well-formed contours. His surcoat had fallen back, exposing the wide chest of the same blue tunic he had worn yestereve. A few silky black hairs escaped the parted neck opening, but not her notice.