Eirik laughed. “If ’tis naught to do with adultery, or with Steven, I do not want to know. Leastways, not now. Let us save that confession for later, my lady, especially since you say it is of no real import. Have you not heard that a man savors a bit of mystery in a woman?”
“But—”
“Besides, I find myself in need of a long draught of your good mead—the best in all Northumbria, did you not proclaim it on our first meeting?” Eirik teased. “Go now and play with your bloody bees.”
She started to protest.
“Just one last thing, Eadyth. Do you accept my apology? Can we put this… incident… behind us?”
Eadyth nodded as they both stood. “But, Eirik, we must come up with a plan to safeguard Ravenshire. Do you not think it alarming that Steven, or one of his fiendish retainers, was able to enter the keep so easily and place that lying letter under my mattress? Is it possible one of your own people works against you?”
Eirik nodded gravely. “I go to meet with Wilfrid now. Ravenshire will be made secure against Steven, of that I assure you.”
“What can I do to help with—”
” ‘Tis no longer your responsibility, wife. A man protects those under his shield.”
Eadyth did not care for the condescending tone of his words; they sounded too much like an order. “When I proposed marriage to you, I never asked for a knight in shining armor. All I wanted was to share your shield.”
Eirik patted her hand as if she were a child. “You are not to worry, wife. I will handle everything.”
Eadyth gritted her teeth. Later, she would have to explain to her husband that she did not intend to be a docile wife. But she let him think she was acceding to his superiority. For now.
* * *
The next day, Eirik discovered that he could not go to Jorvik, and Asa, as he had wished. He had to implement safeguards against Steven, as Eadyth had suggested. The castle wall needed completion. Utters were sent off to lowly knights in other keeps asking if they would like to serve the Lord of Ravenshire. More and more of his grandfather’s people—cotters, craftsmen, servants—were returning daily as news spread of Ravenshire’s new life.
With dismay, Eirik realized that, without ever having made a real decision to stay at Ravenshire, he was digging himself deeper and deeper into a commitment to the land and the people.
And he was not sure it was what he wanted.
Besides taking extra measures to safeguard the keep, Eirik also tried hard to make amends to Eadyth for his despicable behavior. Over the next three days, while he slept in the hall in consideration of Eadyth’s monthly flux, he allowed her to impose her silly rules: forcing the servants to bathe once a sennight; delousing all the mattresses, pallets and bed linens; decreeing that his men could no longer throw their bones and other refuse in the rushes of the hall after eating.
God’s Blood! She even wanted to make a rule against belching and breaking wind in public, stating that his men had the manners of swine. “You have been raised in the king’s court. You have a responsibility to teach those beneath you the polite ways of society,” she had chided him.
That was where he had put a stop to her domineering ways. “Have you lost your senses? There are some things beyond my control,” he balked. “My men would laugh me out of Britain. I refuse to discuss such piddling subjects with them. Nay, do not lift your stubborn nose to the roof. My word is final.”
She had backed down on that demand, but then made many others. Plow new fields. Buy sheep. Clean garderobes. Dig wells. Repair weaving sheds. Erect new cottages. On and on she went in her shrewish, grating voice until she came to him with a new request.
“Wouldst you do me a tiny favor?”
“Bloody Hell! I think I hear those words in my sleep now.”
“Could you please climb up on a ladder and dust some of the cobwebs in the upper beams of the great hall?”