“Hah! My father never exerted that kind of control over me. I would not allow such, even if he had wanted it.”
Eirik continued to grin. “On the wedding night, the other shoe is placed at the head of the marriage bed, on the husband’s side, to signify the bride accepting her husband’s authority.”
Eadyth shoved the slipper back into Eirik’s hands. “Keep your bloody slipper. As for the ring,” she said admiringly, not wanting to give it up, “I accept it with my own interpretation of obedience to my husband.” She smiled at him, despite her resolve to develop no fondness for the churlish knight. “Well, if that is all—”
“Nay, you forget. I mentioned there were three ‘earnest gifts.’ ”
She raised an eyebrow.
“The traditional betrothal kiss.”
Before she could demur, he leaned forward. Alarmed, Eadyth turned at the last moment so his warm lips brushed her cheek. Eirik chuckled low in his throat at her maneuver, then put his right hand at the nape of her neck and forced her lips to meet his in a light feather stroke of a kiss. His left hand still held hers in a firm clasp.
Eadyth closed her eyes momentarily to savor the sweet pleasure of his warm lips.
Oh, Eadyth girl, you are in big, big trouble. This man is a dragon, and you are the dry tinder. He will burn you alive. Run, girl, run as fast as you can.
“What is that ungodly smell?” he asked.
Eadyth blinked several times to clear her muddled senses. “Huh?” she said.
Eirik wrinkled his nose and leaned closer to her head-rail, sniffing loudly. “It smells like fish oil. Or hog renderings gone bad.”
Eadyth pulled away from him then and stood shakily, knowing he smelled the grease in her hair. She hunched her shoulders a bit and cackled, ” ‘Tis a special ointment I have concocted to ease my aching limbs of a cold morn. Would you care to try it? ‘Tis good for horses, as well.”
Repulsed, Eirik jerked back. Eadyth smiled inwardly at the look of confusion on his open face. He obviously failed to understand the odd attraction that had shot between them for one moment. An aberration, she vowed, which would never occur again.
“You will call the banns then?” she asked weakly as she moved toward the door, her senses still churning from his touch.
“Yea. I have no chaplain at Ravenshire now, but I can send to St. Peter’s in Jorvik.”
“And the wedding? When will that take place? Time is important if we are to forestall Steven’s moves.”
“Three sennights?”
She nodded. “I will be off to Hawks’ Lair then whilst there is still light and will return in twenty-one days.”
“Nay, you will not leave today.”
Eadyth stopped dead in her tracks. “Why?”
“We must needs have the betrothal feast tonight.”
“Nay, we will not!” she cried, knowing she had to put a distance between them to reevaluate this foolish masquerade she had started. At the challenging look on his face, however, she softened her voice and cajoled, “Let there be no hypocrisy atween us in this marriage. Why pretend emotions we do not feel?”
“My men will question my motives, and yours, if we do not at least appear to want this alliance. If we cannot convince my loyal retainers that I cared enough once to breed a babe on you, how will we convince the king that I am the boy’s father?”
Eadyth saw the logic in his words but resisted, nonetheless. “Cared enough! Hah! You do not know Steven so well if you think that was the motive for the act that brought about John’s conception. ‘Twas more like, lusted enough.”
He shrugged and grinned widely. “Either way. If ’tis the image of lust you prefer to convey, mayhap I could put a hand on your thigh or a tongue in your ear whilst we are toasting our betrothal this night.”
“A tongue in my… !” Eadyth felt her face flame. “Do you dare, and I will put a sharp knife to your precious manhood.”
Unamused by her threat, he informed her stonily, “I dare much, my lady, and think again afore you throw warnings my way. You will get more than you bargained for, I promise.” When she raised her chin haughtily, he added, “I will win every battle you wage, my lady, whether it be with might or words.”