“Damn her deceit! By the time I am done with her, she will hobble all right and with good cause.”
Eirik had already discussed his discovery of Eadyth’s charade with Wilfrid. While his good friend had suspected Eadyth was not as old or uncomely as they had originally thought, Wilfrid told him he had not been certain and, therefore, had hesitated to mention his seemingly farfetched impressions.
“My vision must be growing worse for the wily wench to have footed me so,” Eirik complained to his good friend. “Even though I was never sharp-sighted as a child, I never saw it as a real problem. Now I am not so sure.”
“Nay, do not think such. Your lady wife fooled us all with her masquerade.”
“I must admit my discovery of her charade today rattled me badly. What kind of future would I have as a blind soldier? Without eyes, a knight is but a shell, less than a man.”
“Put it from your mind, Eirik. I truly believe you wanted to believe her old and, therefore, never recognized the signs of youth. Remember that first night when she blew into the hall like a winter storm and practically kicked the dog. Those were not the actions of a young, beautiful woman.”
Eirik scrutinized Eadyth closely as she moved nearer, his lips curling with disgust as he saw how obvious her disguise was. He wondered just how big a hole she would dig for herself before confessing the truth.
“Do you still think she conspires with Steven?”
“I think not,” Eirik answered, stroking his upper lip distractedly, missing his mustache sorely. That was her fault, too, he decided unreasonably. He wouldn’t have had to shave it off if not for her bees. “I suspect she harbors a loathing for the lustful attentions of men and took advantage of the circumstances to keep me at bay.”
“With all due respect, my lord, I have yet to meet the maid who could keep you at bay, or even wanted to.”
Eirik shrugged. “Some women are born that way and ne’er change—always hating a man’s touch.” And just my luck to wed one of the man haters!
Wilfrid seemed to give the idea considerable thought, then nodded. “Will you confront Lady Eadyth about her deception now?”
“Nay.”
“What will you do?”
“I will give her enough rope to hang herself.”
Wilfrid laughed, no doubt anticipating an evening of entertainment at Eadyth’s expense. Eirik did not intend to disappoint him. He, too, looked forward to making his lady wife squirm, but first he must bank his raging anger and force a bland expression to his tense face.
” ‘Twill be interesting to see how far she will go in her foolery,” Eirik continued, “and despite my doubts, I cannot be certain she has no devious intent. So, yea, I think ’tis best to watch her closely for a time. But you can be sure I will make her pay—both now, in my own special way, and later when I confront her with her deceit.”
Wilfrid just grinned.
Now that Eadyth had solved the smoke problem in the great hall with her new chimneys, Eirik could see the care she took with her disguise, pulling her head-rail forward slightly to cover her forehead and cheeks, frowning so hard her face muscles must ache, and cackling until her voice grew hoarse. She had even ashed her face a bit.
Lord, I must be a lackwit to have been so duped.
Throughout the meal, Eirik continued to study her with feral intensity as he downed cup after cup of her mead. It probably was the best in all Northumbria, as she had boasted. Mayhap he would drown her in a tun of her own brew.
Wanting to lull Eadyth into trapping herself, he reminded himself to squint occasionally and peer closely at objects on the table. Let her think I am blind to her disguise. The witch!
He played a mental game with himself, devising new, exotic methods he would use to torture her. Strangulation was too clean and quick, he decided. And he wanted to delay her punishment until he was sure of her motives. But what could he do now to prick her haughty countenance without betraying his knowledge of her game?