“Nay,” Eadyth protested, remembering to add a shrill tone to her voice, “you are wrong. ‘Tis just a contract atween us. Naught more. Do not expect lustful zest from me as a bed partner. ‘Tis not my nature.”
“How do you explain what just happened?” he asked with an eyebrow arched in amusement.
“I was merely surprised,” she said weakly.
“Hah! Remind me to spring a few more surprises on you in the future, and you may burn me to a crisp with your inner heat.”
“Oh, you are crude.”
“Yea.”
“I am not wanton,” she cried.
“I never thought so. Why would you think responding to a husband’s kiss is wanton?”
” ‘Twas not as you think. It will not happen again, that I promise you.”
“Oh?” Eirik said lazily, moving slowly, deliberately, toward her. “Shall we test the waters once again and see if you can bring them to a boil?”
Eadyth jumped back with a shriek of alarm and moved quickly toward the door.
“Yea, little beekeeper, best you buzz off now and send my squire to help me dress. Otherwise, I fear I will not be able to resist the temptation of your honey.”
“Argh!” Eadyth exclaimed in frustrated rage. Slamming the door after her, she almost ran into Tykir, who was leaning against the corridor wall, examining his fingernails with nonchalance.
“What is wrong with your lips, my good sister?” Tykir asked with exaggerated concern. ” ‘Twould seem they have been bruised somehow. Mayhap you ran into a wall.”
Eadyth shoved him aside in a most unladylike manner, muttering, “Loathsome louts. The whole lot of you are naught but loathsome louts. Probably descended from a line of louts. Runs in the blood, no doubt. Lout blood.”
She was not amused by his laughter, which followed her down the stairwell, nor the words he called after her: “Imagine the fierce sons he will breed on you, all fine, loathsome louts.”
* * *
A short time later, Eadyth stood in the torch-lit bailey amid the shifting horses, bidding Godspeed to her new husband. It was not the way she had envisioned her wedding night, but perhaps it was for the best, she decided. A reprieve. Their separation would give her time to prepare herself, and him, for the inevitable disclosure of her deception.
In truth, Eadyth was amazed, and alarmed, that what had started as a harmless ruse had escalated to such frightening proportions.
And the man before her now did frighten her.
This was not the laughing, playful Eirik she had observed thus far. Sitting astride his massive destrier, her husband was a formidable knight. Long-sleeved, flexible mail encased most of his massive body, a chain-mesh hood hanging loosely at his neck. A pale blue, sleeveless tunic of fine Yorkshire wool hung down to his knees, accenting the translucent beauty of his eyes, apparent even in the shadowy courtyard.
Pushing the noseguard of his helmet up so he could better speak, he leaned down toward Wilfrid, no doubt giving him last-minute instructions. When he finished, Eirik motioned his squire to hand him his heavy sword and the shield with the raven crest. Adjusting them with ease, Eirik then turned and noticed Eadyth.
With the same abrupt hand motion he had made toward his squire, Eirik called her forward. Eadyth thought about resisting such a peremptory command, but, instead, lifted her chin haughtily in a manner she knew irritated him and stepped to the side of the restlessly shifting horse. The stupid beast did not intimidate her, despite its size. Animals she could control. It was human beasts that caused her trepidation, at times. Like the scowling one before her now. She would surely have difficulty manipulating him.
Eirik raised an eyebrow at her feisty stance, but chose to ignore her insolence. Instead, he instructed her, “Wilfrid has authority to hire more hesirs to protect the keep. ‘Twould be wise for you to stay inside the walls in my absence. Treachery abounds, and those who would harm me may attempt to work through you.”
She nodded grudgingly.
“Also, keep a tight rein on Larise. Hold her to your side at all times. And John, as well. Keep in mind that Steven will not give up easily.”