Eirik let out a loud snore. Her lips curled with disgust as she turned to view her husband’s naked back. The brute! How could a person fall into such a sound sleep so quickly? She was sorely tempted to kick his bare bottom.
But Eadyth was not sure she wanted him awake. She felt her carefully guarded self-control unraveling, and she did not like the prospect one bit. Acutely conscious of her sensitized body, she needed to understand the odd pleasures Eirik’s touch had ignited just moments ago. Slanting a look his way to make sure he could not see, Eadyth brushed her fingertips over her thighs, across her flat stomach and up over the still turgid nipples of her breasts. She felt nothing nigh approaching the delicious sensations Eirik’s fingers had evoked.
Why did it feel so different, so achingly wonderful, when it had been Eirik’s hateful fingers doing the caressing? What would it have been like if he had kept doing those wicked things with his lips and tongue on her nipple? Her breasts swelled and ached oddly at the image. And if he had kissed her lips, especially if he had kissed her with his tongue as he had done that one time in this very room, and if he had been touching her body with those feathery caresses at the same time… well, Eadyth did not know if she would have been able to hide her response.
The puzzle nagged at her for hours before she finally fell into a troubled sleep.
* * *
Eirik was already up and gone when Eadyth awakened the next morning. Thank God! She recalled that he and his retainers intended to travel to the far reaches of his estate to investigate reports of strangers on horseback trampling a new field of wheat. Eadyth shuddered, knowing that Steven was, no doubt, behind this latest trouble that plagued Ravenshire.
The demonic Earl of Gravely played with them—a macabre game designed to set their nerves on edge as they waited for his final action. What that would be, she could not guess, but she swore it would not involve her son John.
Eadyth also resolved not to let Eirik put her off again today. She must confess her ludicrous masquerade before it went any farther. Especially since he had put such emphasis on honesty in their talk yestereve. Oh, Lord!
Later that morning, she sat at the kitchen table helping Bertha and Britta shell a basket of early peas. She wanted to clear the large table for the dozens of honeycombs she had gathered that morning. She intended to prepare them for market in small pottery containers she had designed. Kettles of hot water and special straining devices lay at the ready.
“I heard how our Lord Raven teased you at the great table yestereve,” Britta. commented companionably. “Men are such vulgar beasties sumtimes.”
Eadyth popped several sweet peas in her mouth and crunched as she raised an eyebrow in question.
“You know, about the color of your nipples and such.”
Eadyth choked and the peas went down the wrong passage. She coughed and coughed until Bertha finally fetched her a cup of water.
“You know what Eirik said to me?” Eadyth finally asked the artlessly blunt maid, not sure if she was more incredulous or angry at her private talk being repeated about the keep. But then, that was ever the way with servants, she supposed.
“Yea, Wilfrid… I mean, Master Wilfrid… sumtimes tells me things.”
I bet he does. The wretch!
“Do not be embarrassed, my lady. All men are like that on the odd occasion, ‘specially when they are drinking or when they are ‘specially… uh… ‘specially lustful.” She blushed prettily at her last word.
Oh, Good Lord! How did I get involved in such a conversation?
” ‘Tis the tits what will do it every time,” Bertha offered sagely. “Men do love a good bosom, ‘specially if it wobbles.”
“Wobbles?” Eadyth and Britta both asked, turning to her in surprise.
Bertha threw back her shoulders, thrusting her massive breasts forward with pride. Then she put her beefy hands under the two udders, lifting them higher and jiggling them in a ridiculous fashion.