The Tarnished Lady

She smiled in satisfaction. The minx! Then she turned more serious. "I do not understand what you are doing to me. You twist my passions 'til I can barely think."

  Good. "Eadyth, come here," he coaxed, pulling her down onto his chest. "Kiss me, Eadyth... do you hear me, just a kiss, that is all."

  "Hah! Just a kiss! I am not so besotted yet that I do not recognize a hot poker quivering in my belly."

  Taking advantage of the momentary lull in her hostility, Eirik rocked his hips against her moistness.

  She made a small whimpering sound.

  He grinned. So far, so good.

  Putting his hands on her waist, Eirik lifted her slowly upward, then down again, showing her the rhythm.

  "Oh."

  He inserted a finger between their bodies, playing a rhythmic tune with her slickness.

  "I... do... not... want... this," she gritted out, but opened her legs wider for his ministrations.

  He removed his hands and forced them to his sides. "Then take yourself off me. I will not force you," he reminded her.

  "If I agree this once, do not think it sets a pattern. It would be just this once. No more."

  Once! Hah! Well, once at a time, mayhap. Once an hour. Once an hour, every hour, 'til I get my fill of you. "Whatever you say, Eadyth," he said meekly, smiling inwardly.

  She inclined her head in compliance.

  And he let her have her way with him.

  Eadyth proved to be a quick learner, and she taught him a few lessons, as well. Once she mastered the rhythm, she rode him with wild abandon. Her eagerness excited him immensely. Her lack of inhibition was a marvel to behold. And Eirik felt blessed by the gods.

  When he lay depleted and immensely satisfied under her, Eadyth asked softly, while she nibbled contentedly on his ear, "Did I hurt you?"

  And Eirik laughed, and laughed, and laughed... until Eadyth bit him on the shoulder. Which set him to thinking of other things she could do with her teeth.

  Cradled in each other's arms, they finally slept. During the night, Eirik sought his wife again. This time, they came together slowly, with gentle strokes and soft words. They climbed the mountain of passion at a leisurely pace, prolonging the anticipation with sweet torture. Then they both tumbled mindlessly into a whirlpool of intense convulsions.

  At the end, he cried triumphantly, "You are mine." And, of course, Eadyth disagreed, claiming, "Nay, you are mine."

  Eirik awakened before dawn with a smile on his face. He looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms, cuddled against his warmth. He kissed the top of her silky hair, gently, and thought about rousing her with a kiss of her "other" hair. That was a delight to which he had not yet introduced his new wife. Nay, he would wait until she was awake and he could see her reaction to that deliciously scandalous exercise.

  Besides, another hunger pulled at him, as well. Eirik decided to go down to the kitchen and bring up some food to share with his wife. Then they would talk. Nay, he corrected himself with a smile. They would make love again, and then they would talk and come to an understanding.

  He pulled on a pair of braies and walked barefoot through the dark, silent halls. When he entered the kitchen, he put a taper to a wall torch, ignoring Bertha's loud snores from her pallet in the corner. He placed some bread and hard cheese and several slices of cold venison onto a wooden trencher and poured a large goblet of mead. Then he headed through the closed corridor toward the great hall.

  "So your new wife does not satisfy all your hungers, my brother."

  Eirik jumped and almost dropped his platter.

  "Bloody Hell, Tykir, what are you doing, skulking about these dark halls? I thought you left for Haakon's court long ago."

  "I was delayed in Jorvik," he said, rolling his eyes, as he lit a wall torch. "I come with urgent news from Rain's House, the orphanage in Jorvik."

  "Rain's House? Oh, nay, say it is not Emma! Does my daughter ail? Is there trouble?"

  Tykir nodded. "Urgent trouble. There is spreading fever at the orphanage—mayhap the bloody pox. Rain and Selik have sent Emma and the other children to Gyda's house, awaiting your word."

  "Does Emma have the pox, as well?" Eirik asked with a shudder of fear.

  "Nay. At least, not yet. I did not know if you would want her here at Ravenshire. You have not indicated an interest in having the child here afore. But, my brother, 'tis unfair to leave her in Gyda's home, good friend that she has been to our family. You must go to her at once."

  "Yea. Gyda must be sorely overtaxed having all those children about. Should I bring the orphans here?"

  "Nay, you cannot," Tykir advised quickly, "not with the threat of Steven abounding. And another thing, Eirik. Rain says Emma is beginning to regain her voice, and her memory. There may be hard times ahead for her when she recalls all that happened to her and her, mother."

  Eirik inhaled deeply with understanding. "Will you return with me to Jorvik, Tykir?"

  Tykir nodded. "I will ready the horses. Can we depart within the hour?"

  "Yea."

  Eirik went back to the kitchen and awakened Bertha, giving her instructions, telling her he expected to be back by nightfall. Then Eirik returned to his bedchamber where Eadyth still slept deeply. He laid the trencher on a table and dressed quietly.

  He considered waking his wife and telling her about his daughter and his concerns. But he knew Eadyth would want to travel with him, or leave this bedchamber in his absence. They needed to talk before he could allow either, and there was no time for that. So he kissed her lightly on the lips, and locked the bedchamber door after him.

  * * *

  Eadyth awakened later that morning, stretching lazily. She was not surprised that Eirik no longer lay at her side. She could tell by the slant of sun through the arrow slits that it was already well past dawn. Blessed Lord, she had not slept this late since her childhood, Eadyth thought, yawning widely.

  She donned the beekeeper veil, grimacing at her only choice of garment. Well, she would get her other clothing back soon, after she broke her fast. She noticed the trencher of food on the table then, and smiled at Eirik's consideration.

  After she ate, reliving in her mind the wondrous events of the night before in Eirik's arms, Eadyth walked to the door, hoping to slip to the next room unseen and gather her garments. The door did not open. She turned the handle again, to no avail.

  Realization dawned slowly on her. The bastard had locked her in his bedchamber.

  She would kill him. She would throttle him with this damn beekeeping gown. Oh, the humiliation of it all! After all she had "surrendered" willingly to her husband yestereve, he still intended to enforce his loathsome rules.

  She began banging on the door, shouting shrilly. When the door finally opened, Bertha stood there, hands on hips. A guard stood behind her in the hall, barring Eadyth's exit.

  Eadyth scooted behind the door to hide her sheer gown. Then she peered around at Bertha. "Where... is... my... husband?" she demanded, spacing her words evenly. Rancor gave a sharp edge to her voice.

  "He went to Jorvik," Bertha informed her.

  "Jorvik?" Eadyth had not expected that. "Why?"

  Bertha shrugged. "How would I be knowin'? He said he would be back by nightfall, and he said to keep you locked in his bedchamber 'til he has a chance to talk to you. Said ye should rest a mite." Bertha leered with her last words.

  "Tell me what you know about Eirik leaving so suddenly for Jorvik," she ordered sternly.

  "I already told you, I know naught of his intentions." Her eyes widened with sudden insight, though, and she ducked her head sheepishly.

  "What? What is it you have thought of?"

  "Well," Bertha said reluctantly, "his mistress Asa does live there. Mayhap he felt a sudden inclination to visit with her."

  Like ice water dashed in her face, sudden and devastating realization swept over Eadyth. She shook with the impact.

  Closing the door on Bertha and the guard, she listened, uncaring, as the key turned in the lock.
A raw and overwhelming grief flooded her, and her throat ached with defeat.

  Betrayal! Again! When will I ever learn? First he puts me under his thumb with his lustful sorcery. Then he tosses me aside like yesterday's porridge. How will I bear the pain?

  And, most important, how will I escape?

  Eadyth spent exactly two hours feeling sorry for herself. She knew because one of her costly 24-hour candles that Eirik had lit the night before was still burning, wastefully.

  She wept.

  She berated herself for being a fool.

  She despaired that her shattered heart would ever be the same again.

  She was starting to love Eirik. The lout! She was starting to hate Eirik. The lout!

  She cried at her conflicting emotions. She pulled at her hair when she could not stop thinking about the sweet life she had envisioned. A fleeting gift—cherished for a moment, then lost.

  Then Eadyth got angry.

  She called Eirik every foul name she could think of, and then had to listen to Abdul repeat each word, with infuriating precision, back to her.

  She threw the wood trencher and all its remaining food against the wall. Then, failing to find anything else to throw, she tore apart the mattress and threw the straw stuffing about the room.

  When she finally calmed down, hours later, Eadyth was her old self again. Cool. Sensible. A little wiser. And fit to kill.

  Late afternoon shadows danced through the arrow slits as she plopped down with a whoosh of flying straw onto the remains of Eirik's bed. And she began to plan.

  Well, I have fallen for the soft words of a deceitful man once again. So that just means I am weaker than I thought. But now that I know my weakness, I must strengthen my defenses. How do I do that? Hmmm. I will have to get away—for a time, at least—from Eirik and his seductive tongue... and lips... and hands... and... oh, Lord!

  Mayhap I could go back to Hawks' Lair. 'Twould not be unsafe if I took enough guards with me. Then, when I am stronger—when my bones do not melt at his mere glance, when my heart does not leap at his slightest touch—then I can confront Eirik with new terms for this marriage of ours, which is not really a marriage, after all. First, I will have to escape Eirik's prison. But, Sweet Mary, how will I ever escape the pain of my breaking heart?

  With renewed determination, she picked up one of the heavy side supports which had splintered off Eirik's bedstead in her tirade and walked to the door.

  "Brian... Brian, is that you out there?" she called sweetly.

  "Yea, mistress," the guard answered tentatively. "Did ye get the message I slipped under yer door? Ye were makin' so much noise I did not know if ye heard me."

  "Message? What message?" Eadyth looked down and saw a piece of parchment on the floor, half buried in the scrambled rushes. Unsealing it, she read the note Eirik had sent to her from Jorvik.

  Eadyth,

  I have been delayed. Expect my return tomorrow afternoon. I bring with me a beautiful girl. I know the maid will captivate you, as she has me. I will explain all, Eadyth, and we will talk of those other matters we left unresolved. Trust me, dearling.

  Your husband, Eirik

  Eadyth leaned back against the door, closing her eyes on the cruel pain which shattered her heart. A beautiful girl! Captivated! The brute did not even hide his indiscretions. A suffocating sensation constricted Eadyth's chest as she crumbled the note in her hands and tears slipped once again from her eyes.

  Trust him? How could she do that? He wanted to rut with his mistress and, at the same time, have a wife waiting meekly here at Ravenshire for him, as well. Even worse, he would bring his leman to Ravenshire.

  And how dare he call her "dearling" after betraying her so? She wiped her eyes with the back of a hand and wondered, with a catch of breath, what endearments he used for Asa.

  Girding herself with resolve, Eadyth pushed herself away from the door.

  "Brian, would you send Bertha up here with a broom and some cleaning cloths?" she called through the closed door. "I need to sweep up a slight mess in my bedchamber."

  He muttered something, but then she heard him stomping off.

  "Here comes trouble," Abdul squawked, and Eadyth shot him a glare. The parrot lifted his arrogant nose, ignoring her growling admonition. "Here comes big trouble."

  Eadyth narrowed her eyes menacingly. She would have to do something about the rude, far-too-insightful bird. But not now.

  Tapping her foot impatiently, Eadyth awaited Bertha's arrival. Very soon, the key turned in the lock. Bertha held the door open with her wide rump and edged inside, carrying the cleaning supplies. The door swung shut after her with a loud bang.

  Bertha's mouth dropped open and her eyes grew as wide as cow pies when she turned, gaping at Eadyth's nude body bedecked in the transparent gown. "Oh, my Gawd! Wait 'til the others below stairs hear what the master has done to you! The wily devil! Not only does he lock his stiff-backed lady in his bedchamber fer his own' pleasures, but he dresses her skinny body up like a harem slave." She burst into ribald laughter. "Of course," she choked out, "if yer breasts wobbled more, he probably would have stayed at home with you, 'stead of traipsing off to his mistress. I wager her breasts wobble like a sweet custard." Bertha was bending over with infuriating mirth.

  Eadyth felt no compunction then about pulling the board from behind her back and whomping the prattling wench on top of her head. The blow was soft enough to do no real damage, but hard enough to cause the robust woman to slide to the floor in a dead faint.

  Grunting with exertion, Eadyth managed to pull Bertha's huge body over to the corner, where she quickly removed her drab gown. Taking off the ridiculous beekeeper gown, Eadyth tore it into strips and bound the cook's arms and legs and gagged her mouth. With haste, she donned Bertha's gown, not wanting to take a chance of being seen naked in the halls.

  Then she cleverly lured Brian into the room by asking him to help her and Bertha move a chest. She dealt him the same fate as Bertha.

  "Big, big trouble," Abdul opined.

  Eadyth turned on the pesky bird, hands on hips. "How do you feel about cats, my fine feathered friend? Seems to me I saw a huge mousecatcher out in the stable, with a decided fondness for tasty wings and tiny tongues."

  Abdul apparently knew when to shut his beak.

  Satisfied with her work thus far, Eadyth whisked her hands together efficiently, then left the room, locking the door behind her.

  * * *

  Late the next day, Eirik and his weary guard rode into the courtyard at Ravenshire. Emma slept soundly, nestled against him in the saddle. In truth, she had not allowed him out of her sight since first she laid eyes on him in Gyda's house, whimpering alternately, "Father" and "home"—two more words than she had spoken in the past three years. A good sign, he supposed.

  Luckily, it was not the pox which had afflicted the orphanage, but a much less serious fever. Eirik had helped Selik and Rain move the children back to their homestead outside the city before returning with his daughter.

  Wilfrid approached him on foot and started to speak. "My lord, I would tell—"

  "Shush," Eirik cautioned softly, putting a finger to his lips as he dismounted carefully. He did not want Emma to awaken in strange surroundings until he had a chance to forewarn Eadyth. He looked eagerly toward the castle and hastened up the steps with Emma in his arms.

  "Please, my lord, I must needs inform—"

  "Later, Wilfrid, let me put the child to bed first." And see my wife. My wife! Eirik was worried about his daughter and wanted to seek Eadyth's advice. In addition, he had thought much about Eadyth and their budding relationship during the past two days. He had so many things to tell her, and, most important, he found that he missed his wife fiercely, much more than he would have expected. He was too mistrustful of all women yet to call these new feelings love, but he was beginning to care deeply for his new wife. In time, mayhap...

  After tucking his daughter into a bed in the guest room on the second floor, Eirik w
ent to his own adjacent bedchamber.

  "Eadyth," he called out softly as he unlocked the door. She was probably asleep, since it was barely past dawn.

  There was no answer, and the room loomed blacker than Hades. Taking a torch from a hall sconce, he entered.

  It was a shambles. Strewn about the floor were food, mattress stuffing, broken pottery, and pieces of his shattered bed.

  But no wife.

  "EADYTH!"

  His roar could be heard all the way out to the bailey and beyond. And Emma began to cry loudly in fright.

  Abdul began squawking, "Big trouble, big trouble, big trouble. Awk. Oh, Lord. Awk. Big trouble, big trouble..."

  Eirik said a foul word and went to his daughter. After comforting her back to sleep, he sought out Wilfrid, who was fortifying himself with vast quantities of mead in the great hall.

  "Well?" he demanded icily.

  "She went back to Hawks' Lair and took her son with her," Wilfrid said all in one breath, as if he had rehearsed the words.

  "And how did she escape my locked bedchamber? Fly through the window?"

  Wilfrid groaned and put his head in his hands. "Nay, she cracked the skulls of Bertha and Brian."

  Eirik's eyes widened in surprise. "She what? Never mind. I do not think I want to know... just yet. And where were you when all this skull cracking was taking place?"

  "I was patrolling with a guard near Peatshire. Some strange men were seen skulking about." At the questioning rise of Eirik's brows, Wilfrid shook his head. "They were gone by the time we arrived."

  "And Eadyth risked her life and that of John to leave Ravenshire? Why?"

  "Well, she did order a goodly number of men to accompany her. So, to be fair, she did take precautions against Gravely. As to why she left... well, Bertha did hint that, mayhap, she might have led the mistress to believe..."

  "What?" he asked impatiently.

  ". . . that you went to Jorvik to be with Asa."

  "Bloody Hell! Whyever would Eadyth believe that?"

  Wilfrid shrugged. "Who understands the turn of a woman's mind? But you left with no explanation to Bertha for your hasty departure, and I was not here to explain, and, well, you did hasten to Jorvik, and Asa does reside there, and—"