Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 03] (31 page)

Read Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 03] Online

Authors: The Tarnished Lady

BOOK: Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 03]
12.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She was not amused and glowered her displeasure at him. He was leaning against the wall, grinning at her, totally without remorse.
The boor.

“Now, Eadyth, do not get your hackles up. You told me you did not care about riches and such.”

“Do not play me for a lackwit, husband. You know good and well, ’tis one thing to not care about riches, and another to have to slave to make ends meet.”

“Slave? You exaggerate.”

“How would you know? Oh, when I think how you made me feel guilty for ordering a few piddling sheep, and—”

“Twenty.”

“What?”

“You ordered twenty sheep, Eadyth, not a few.”

“Oh.” She had not been aware that Eirik kept such a close eye on her management of his keep.

“And the cow! There was one mere cow to serve this keep when I arrived.”

“There are eight now. I wonder how they got here,” he remarked dryly, raising a brow pointedly. And Eadyth was amazed once again that Eirik had been more observant than she had realized.

Then he ducked his head sheepishly. “I was going to get more cows myself. I just never got around to it.”

Her upper lip curled contemptuously. “Tell me, Eirik, why do you live so penuriously?”

“’Tis not wise for a Norseman—even a half-Viking, such as myself—to provoke the envy of his Saxon neighbors.”

Eadyth understood then, but that did not explain Eirik’s failure to tell her, his wife.

“How did you think I was paying all the new soldiers I have brought to Ravenshire?” He tugged playfully on one of the curly strands of her hair while he spoke, wrapping it around his finger.

Eadyth felt her face grow hot. “I had not considered that.
No doubt, you were muddling my thoughts at the time.”

“Yea, I am rather good at…muddling. Am I not?” He grinned at her and forced her closer by pulling on the lock of hair still wrapped around his finger. She tried to ignore the sweet heat he was stoking with his mere closeness.

“Oh, you are outrageous! And Asa, your mistress—this is how you paid her, is it not?” Eadyth waved her hand at the room’s contents, and her throat tightened at the thought. Fool that she was, she had even expected Eirik to use some of her profits to pay off his mistress. Instead, he had, no doubt, laid vast riches at her feet. Mayhap he had not even ended his relationship with her.

“Wipe that nasty thought from your head immediately,” Eirik snapped. “If you dare to accuse me of infidelity after wearing my cock nigh down to a nub, I swear I will pull out your tongue and nail it to your frowning forehead.”

Eadyth inhaled sharply. “You are
so
vulgar.”

“Yea, I am.” Then he grinned mischievously. “Would you like to lie down on one of these lengths of silk and get vulgar with me?”

She shot him a look of disgust, but could not help the smile which crept over her lips. He looked so engaging, standing there like an overgrown boy, grinning happily. “Nay, I would not ruin good samite by rolling around on the ground with you.”

“Ah, ever the sensible wife!” He gazed at her fondly, then added, his eyes twinkling, “Wouldst you consider good wool?”

She laughed despite herself.

He held out his arms to her and she stepped into his embrace. She pinched his belly, though, just to show she had not lost all her anger with him.

Later, when they exited arm in arm from the secret tunnel which led to a cotter’s hut just outside the castle walls, Eadyth said, more serious now, “Eirik, I am fearful for John’s fate now that Edred is king, but I just wanted you to know…” Her voice broke with emotion.

“What, dearling?” he asked, tilting her chin up with a forefinger.

“I just wanted you to know that I am happier at this moment than I have ever been in all my life.”

He tried to make light of her serious tone by teasing, “Yea, I am rather good at making you happy, am I not?”

But she would not allow him to trivialize her sentiments. “I love you, Eirik. Nay, do not shift your eyes and look downward. I am not asking you to return my sentiments.”
At least not yet.
“Mayhap women are different. All I know is that I could not yield myself the way I have with you unless I gave my heart, as well.”

“’Tis hard for me to talk of these things, Eadyth. Trust comes hard for me, and without it, I do not think I could love anyone. Give me time.”

“I will,” she said, smiling up at him. “’Tis just that I fear hard times are coming, and I wanted you to know how I feel.” She looked about then, wanting to change the subject, and said, “Look at that green pasture over there. I have never seen it afore. Do you think…hmmm…I was wondering if we might purchase a few…just a few, mind you…goats?”

“Goats?” he choked out.

Then he laughed when he saw the teasing expression on her face. “You are beautiful when you smile, Eadyth. If you had smiled once or twice when you were pretending to be old and ugly, your charade would have been over in a trice.”

“You think so, do you?”

“I know so, dearling. Even with my damned eyes, I would not be able to miss the beauty of your smile.”

“Oh, Eirik, do not speak so of your eyes. I love your eyes.” After all, it was those pale blue eyes that had drawn her to Ravenshire in the first instance.

“You do? Ah, well, they are my weakness, but—”

She put her fingertips to his lips. “There is nothing weak about you, my husband. I recognized your vision problem almost from the start, because my father experienced the same, and it never made him less a man.”

“Well…,” he said, seeming to shrug off her words of confidence, but Eadyth could tell that he was pleased. His dim sight—his one weakness, or so he perceived it to be—was a sensitive point with her husband. And she had rankled his pride by playing on that foible with her foolish masquerade.

She gazed at him adoringly, recognizing her good fortune in having gained this man for her husband.

“What? Why are you looking at me so?”

“How?”

“Like your bloody dog, Prince.”

Eadyth chuckled softly. What an apt description!

“I do not suppose, Eadyth, that you would…oh, never mind…” He let his words trail off deliberately, arousing her curiosity. He stroked his upper lip, scrutinizing her the whole time. His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Putting both hands on her hips, Eadyth tilted her head in question.

“…wag your tail,” he finished with a chortle of laughter.

“You have better parts to wag than I do,” she retorted, shoving him playfully in the chest. He fell backward, pulling her with him to the ground.

Taking her face in both his hands, Eirik kissed her deeply. In truth, Eadyth could never seem to get enough of his lips and teeth and tongue. Why had she never known that kissing could be such a pleasure?

“You are looking dreamy-eyed again, Eadyth,” he said, blowing softly on the wetness of her lips.

“And no wonder! You turn a maid’s mind inside out with your kisses, and well you know it.”

“Just yours, Eadyth. Just yours. Now, will you tell me why you were looking at me like Prince looks at a juicy bone?”

“I just wondered how I could have grown to love you so quickly.”

“No doubt it is my manly prowess,” he boasted immodestly.

“I think I loved you long afore you ever touched me.”

“Really?” His eyes sparkled with interest.

She nodded. “Yea, ’twas when you acknowledged John as your son at our wedding feast, no doubt. And then when you gave me that tongue kiss in your bedchamber the same night, I suspected I would not be able to resist your charms for long.”

“Yea, my charms are formidable.”

She nipped at his shoulder and continued, “And then there was the time you were stung by my bees and did not beat me.”

“I was tempted.”

“But you did not.”

There was a long moment of silence as their eyes locked, and Eadyth cried inwardly that Eirik did not tell her that he loved her, as well. She told herself it did not matter, but, of course, it did.

“I am trying, Eadyth,” he said softly.

“I know,” she whispered, trying to hide her pain, and leaned up into his gentle kiss.

“Are you two at it again?” They looked up to see Tykir emerging from the tunnel entrance. “Hell, Eirik, every time I turn around, you are counting Eadyth’s teeth with your tongue.”

“Thirty-two,” Eirik said without a blink of his eyes.

“Huh?” Tykir said.

“Eadyth has thirty-two teeth.”

They all burst out laughing then.

Tykir dropped down to the ground next to them once their merriment ended.

“Where are the children?” Eadyth asked.

“I tied them to posts in the great hall.”

“How could you!” Eadyth exclaimed, horrified at his cruelty, and started to stand.

“Do not get your dander up, sister. Sit back down. They think it is a game. I am the mighty Viking warrior and they are my captives. At least it gives me a moment to breathe.” He grimaced comically. “I promised that when I return I will
be their captive. Hell’s flames, I think I may go a-Viking when I leave Ravenshire just to get a rest.”

They all turned more serious then as they discussed the plan to lure Steven into their trap.

“I will leave with a large contingent of men on the morrow,” Eirik said. “If Earl Orm has not already done so, I will spread the word that I go to Gloucestershire to speak with the Witan.”

“Surely Steven will watch you carefully,” Eadyth said worriedly.

“Yea, but I will leave in full battle gear, including a helmet which covers my hair. When I get a few hides from Ravenshire, there is a wooded area where Sigurd will be waiting for me. Sigurd is much the same size as me. He and I will exchange garments. After the troops move on, I will backtrack to Ravenshire and enter through the secret tunnel.”

Eadyth bit her bottom lip anxiously.

“I know you are concerned about John. I am sending him under heavy guard, along with Larise and Emma, to Hawks’ Lair. They will leave tonight through the tunnel. I do not want them inside the keep, in the event something should go wrong with our plan.”

Eadyth put a hand to her mouth apprehensively. “And Tykir?”

“Will sail out tonight from Jorvik, along the Humber to the North Sea. Then he will travel back here by land. He will be the one to stay with the children at Hawks’ Lair. I do not think Emma will be manageable for long without one of us there.”

“It all sounds so…sensible…but you know that Steven does not think as a normal man does. I fear his treachery.”

“We will be careful, Eadyth. I protect what is mine.” He put an arm around her shoulders for emphasis.

Eirik’s gesture warmed Eadyth, even more than his words. He did not love her…yet, Eadyth could see that. But she believed that he did care about her. That was something. A start.

“One last thing, Eadyth. ’Tis possible we have a spy within the keep. So we must not discuss this plan with any of the servants, and I must not come abovestairs once I leave Ravenshire. We will prepare the rooms underground with bedding and food and drink for me and some of my men. Even the horses will have to be kept with us.”

At her look of distaste, he added, “It should only be for one night or two. I am certain Steven will be lured to the prospect of you and John in a seemingly ill-protected keep.”

 

Two days went by, and still there was no contact from Steven. Eadyth paced her bedchamber, and the kitchen, where Bertha complained, “Gawd! Yer wearing a groove in the floor, and yer makin’ the milk curdle in me custard with yer constant complainin’.”

Eirik had warned Eadyth not to step outside the keep under any circumstances, and only Wilfrid and Jeremy, her trusted stoneworker from Hawks’ Lair, were aware of the plan. At the first sign of Steven’s, or any stranger’s, presence inside the keep, Eirik was to be contacted. To outward appearances, the keep must look understaffed and poorly guarded.

“When Steven contacts you, you must be within range of Wilfrid or Jeremy so they may signal me and my men. You must obey my orders totally, do you hear me, Eadyth?” Eirik had told her over and over before he left.

On the third day, Eadyth was so jittery and frustrated she decided she had to do something to keep busy. “We will work on my honey today,” she told Bertha and Girta.

The cook muttered something about the mess she would make of her kitchen, but was silenced by a quick glare from Eadyth. Britta would be unable to help since she was still bedridden, though recovering slowly from her battering. Eadyth instructed Oslac, one of the beekeeping assistants she had brought from Hawks’ Lair, to gather as many honeycombs as were ready from her hives. Eirik had forbidden her to go even
to the orchard where her hives were located, lest Steven be lurking about.

When Oslac returned a short time later, pushing his beekeeping veils back off his face, he brought with him three dozen honeycombs and said there were at least that many more for him to fetch. “It has been way too long, mistress, since we have harvested the honey, though the bees have enjoyed the feast mightily.”

Eadyth nodded, realizing that she had been busy with other things the past few days. She sent Oslac off for more of the honeycombs and made sure the fire was hot enough and all her utensils were set out on the table.

Girta went to get more pottery containers from the scullery. Bertha wiped the sweat from her forehead with a forearm and grumbled, “Well, best we get this over with.”

A short time later, Eadyth already had the three dozen honeycombs decapped, dripping nectar through the straining cloths near the fire, and Oslac had not yet returned. She fidgeted and glanced impatiently about the kitchen, wanting to complete her work.

“Wash all the empty combs for me, Bertha,” she said and stepped to the doorway leading to the kitchen courtyard.

Oslac was approaching, carrying a huge armful of the honeycombs in one of her beecatcher boxes—at least six dozen. There must have been many more than he had originally thought. He stopped near the well and laid his box down. At first, Eadyth was puzzled by his behavior, but then she saw him sit down on a boulder and remove his shoe, then shake out several loose stones.

Other books

Saving Juliet by Suzanne Selfors
In the Mouth of the Tiger by Lynette Silver
Outlaw Trackdown by Jon Sharpe
Traveling with Spirits by Miner, Valerie
The Changelings Series, Book 1 by Christina Soontornvat
The Incumbent by Alton L. Gansky