Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 03] (25 page)

“A sennight!”

Eadyth scowled at him in disbelief. He saw the moment her confusion turned to hurt, then rage, at his domineering act. In that moment, Eirik saw the new, wonderful relationship that he had envisioned flowering between them being nipped in the bud.

“Do not do this, Eirik,” she pleaded softly, closing her eyes as if on a sudden wrenching pain. “I will never be able to forgive you, and I crave…harmony.”

“I must, Eadyth. You force me into this position,” he said, trying to make her understand. “From the day we met, you have challenged me, both in private and in front of my people. Your masquerade is just one example. Your flaunting my orders today and making decisions for me were just part of a series of acts I can no longer tolerate.”

And there was another reason, one which he could not disclose to Eadyth. One of his cotters had overheard Steven of Gravely this morn as he boasted of a plan to kidnap the Lady of Ravenshire and hold her hostage for his son. Even now, Eirik’s blood boiled and his fists clenched at the unspeakable acts Gravely had planned for Eadyth whilst in his snare.

Eirik could not chance Steven getting his depraved hands on Eadyth, and he knew his stubborn wife would never willingly restrict herself to the inside of the keep. When it came to her own safety, she was too lax. Oh, she would promise to take care, but the first time a new lamb birthed, or her bees swarmed, or she heard of a bargain to be had on some piddling product in Jorvik, she would leave the defenses of Ravenshire without a thought for her well-being.

“You make too much of my willful ways,” she argued, interrupting his thoughts. She continued to lie immersed in the cooling bathwater, and he wanted so much to tell her that her willful ways were part of her charm. He wanted to pull
her from the tub, into his arms, and resume where they had left off earlier that day in the glen.

But he could not. Not yet. “Willful! You underestimate your temperament, my lady. If I am to stay at Ravenshire, I must have the respect of my men and my people.”

“But—”

Eirik held up a hand to stop her next words. “There can be only one master of a keep. And I am it, my lady.”

She eyed him warily. “So I am to be punished for my headstrong ways. Is that what this prison is about?” she asked, waving her hand to indicate the locked room.

“’Tis a prison only if you want it to be.”

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Exactly what is it you ask of me?”

“We can discuss the details later,” he said, reaching for a drying towel. “You are turning blue with cold.”

She knocked the towel he handed her to the floor. “Tell me.” Her eyes glittered furiously, and she panted through parted lips. Deliciously parted lips.

Could he tell her the truth about Steven and his fears for her? Nay, he decided, ’twas too dangerous a risk to take until he had more time to ensure her obedience. He must protect her at all costs. Steeling himself, he continued, “I will make all decisions related to Ravenshire—its defenses, its farms and crops, its cotters and thralls. ’Twill not be necessary for you to leave the walls of the keep. If you have aught to suggest about the management of Ravenshire, I will listen, of course, but the final decision will be mine, as it should be.”

“And in your absence?”

“Really, Eadyth, you make too much of this.”

“And in your absence?” she demanded icily.

This conversation was not going at all the way Eirik had planned. Oh, he had known Eadyth would protest his new rules, but he had not expected to feel so guilty. “You will confer with Wilfrid in my absence.”

“Confer or defer?”

Eirik felt his face turn hot, and he refused to answer.

“And my beekeeping business? Will you take that away from me, too?”

“Eadyth, I am taking naught away from you. You should be glad I remove these burdens from your shoulders.” Even he realized how weak his arguments sounded as he floundered for the right words. “You will be free to—”

“I asked you a question, husband. Please give me the courtesy of an answer,” she sneered. “What about my beekeeping business?”

“You may continue to tend your bees and make your honey and mead and candles, but I do not want you going into Jorvik to conduct your business. ’Tis too dangerous. And unseemly.”

“You bastard!”

Furious, she stood in the tub, swishing water over the sides, uncaring of her nudity. For one brief moment, Eirik’s blood rushed to all his vital parts and his heart slammed against his rib cage as he glimpsed Eadyth’s statuesque beauty.

But then she grabbed the small drying cloth, holding it in front of her body, and said in a calm, icy voice, “Get out. Get out of this chamber afore I kill you with my bare hands. I do not care if you lock me in this chamber for the rest of my life. I will never agree to those terms. Never.”

Tears filled her luminous eyes, but she blinked repeatedly, stubbornly refusing to allow them to flow. Eirik felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach.

“I never wanted this marriage. I told you the first time we met that women lose their independence when they wed. I thought you were different, damn you.” Then she added, more softly, “I thought you were different.”

He reached out a hand to her.

She swatted it away.

“Eadyth, trust me, please. It may only be for a short time, and then—”

“Why should I trust you?” she shrieked. “And why for only a short time? Do you mean if I prove biddable, like a cow-eyed maiden? Or if I bow whenever you enter a room?
Or simper at every word of wisdom that oozes from your mouth?”

Eirik gritted his teeth, no longer feeling so conciliatory. “Let us go to bed, Eadyth. It has been a long day. We can discuss this more in the morn, when you are more calm.”

“God above! You must have porridge for brains if you think I will sleep next to you this night…” A sudden thought occurred to her then and her face turned bright red before she continued, “…or spread my thighs for you, you miserable wretch.”

“We will sleep together, wife,” Eirik assured her, stepping toward her as she backed away, still clutching the ridiculously small cloth to her body, leaving her long legs and so much more exposed. He had a sudden inclination to feel those legs wrapped around his waist and that mouth moaning under his kisses. “Yea, we will sleep together. Furthermore, you will wear the one garment I have left for you.”

“Garment? What garment?” She scanned the room and saw nothing except the beekeeping veil hanging on a peg. When understanding dawned on her, she choked out, “You cannot mean—”

“Yea, I can.” He took the veil in one hand and a pair of shears in the other, deftly cutting a rough neckline in the fabric. He handed it to her. “Either you put it on, or I will.”

Eadyth watched her husband as he turned away from her. Her eyes darted about the room, searching for an escape. Or a weapon. There was neither.

Reluctantly, she donned the wispy gown, which was worse than no garment at all. It covered her from neck to ankle and wrist, but its sheerness made her feel more naked than bare skin.

Eirik proceeded to light at least three dozen of her costly beeswax candles. Her lips curling ferally, Eadyth made a mental account of the number he wasted and decided to bill him for them in a few days. Hah! He probably considered them his property now.
Just like me.
She bit her bottom lip
to stop the tears from welling in her eyes at that horrid thought.

Laying the tinder on a table, Eirik turned, and his mouth dropped open. He gaped at her in open appreciation as his eyes traveled from the top to the bottom of the revealing garment.

To Eadyth’s satisfaction, Eirik did not look so cool and angry now. A wistful smile tugged at his lips. “I have been dreaming of you in that garment for a long time, afore I even knew of your beauty.”

“Keep on dreaming, lackbrain, because ’tis all you will do.”

“Do you think so?” he challenged, moving closer.

“I do not want you, Eirik.”

“You wanted me earlier today…with a passion,” he reminded her.

To her chagrin, Eadyth felt a blush heat her face. “I was besotted with lust then. Now that I know your true intent, it will not happen again.”

“I say it will.”

“So rape
and
imprisonment are to be my punishment.”

“I have never forced a woman in my life and have no intention of starting now,” he snarled, clenching his fists at his sides. “But, God’s Bones, you tempt a man to violence with your shrewish tongue.”

“You did not mind my shrewish tongue earlier today.”

Eirik shook his head in amazement at her quick words. “Ah, but then your tongue was engaged in more pleasant duties. In truth, I had planned on teaching you a novel exercise for your tongue this eve.” And he proceeded to tell her a most scandalous thing that men and women could do to each other with their tongues.

“Oh…oh…you really are a wicked man. When did you last attend confession? Surely, the priests must wring their hands with glee when you arrive in the confessional. No doubt, you are weighed down for weeks afterward with heavy penances.”

“Always,” he replied, unabashed.

Eadyth stared at him, speechless, trying hard not to imagine the scandalous sins he might have to confess.

Eirik raked his hands through his hair, seeming to search for the proper words. Finally, he stared at her levelly. “Eadyth, I would like to make love with you. Very much. Will you let me?” he asked in a low, raspy voice.

“Nay.”
Dear Blessed Mother, keep me from being tempted. Dear Blessed Mother, keep me from being tempted. Dear Blessed…

“Please.”

Eadyth bit her lower lip and dug her nails into the palms of her fisted hands, trying desperately not to remember the way this wicked man had made her feel earlier that day.

Eirik stepped a little closer, and she almost moaned aloud at the sweet need she saw in his parted lips. His pale blue eyes swept her almost nude body like a delicious, sensuous caress. And every spot they touched turned warm and yearning. Eadyth felt herself weakening and tried even harder to resist his charms.

“Not even if you stand on your head, totally naked, and wag that tail that stands to attention betwixt your legs,” she asserted brazenly, hoping to shock him away with her crudity.

Instead, he laughed appreciatively. “You will never let me forget that tale I told of the caliph and his mud ugly wife, will you?”

“That was not the caliph story, you dimwit. That was the merchant from Micklegaard, and his wife looked like the back end of a mule,” she corrected him.

Eirik raised both brows. “The brilliance of your memory stuns me.”

“I would like to stun you, all right. You and all the ridiculous stories you told me. Twelve times! You must have been laughing yourself into Kingdom Come at my gullibility.”

“Twelve what?” he asked, puzzled, and moved a little closer.

Eadyth sidled to the left, uncomfortable with his nearness,
even though he had promised not to force her in the bedding. “Yea, twelve times, you dolt. You told me a man could…you know…that peak thing…twelve times. Hah! Two times was an ordeal for you.”

“Oh, so now you taunt me about my manly capabilities, do you? A dangerous game, Eadyth. Very dangerous. Mayhap I planned to complete the ‘peaking’ thing when we returned to Ravenshire. After all, there are twenty-four hours in the day, and we only spent one hour in that glen.”

Eadyth frowned, unsure if he was serious or teasing her again. He was rubbing his hairless upper lip in his usual manner, still missing his mustache, and she could not see the expression on his lips. Twelve times! Was that really possible? “Well, little difference it makes to me if you grunt and groan once or fifty times, it will not happen again with me.”

“Grunt and groan! Really, Eadyth, you have a way with words that is not seemly for a woman.”

“You knew my language was unseemly afore you married me.”

“But I did not know how beautiful you are, and now that I do, I want to make love with you.”

Eadyth’s heart skipped a beat at his enticing words. “Will you take away your lackwit rules?”

Eadyth thought she heard the grinding of Eirik’s teeth.

“Nay, my ‘lackwit rules’ stand…for now. Will you trust me, Eadyth, that I know what is best…for now?”

“You ask too much,” she said on a soft groan

He threw his hands out in resignation. “I will not beg.” He turned then and walked away from her toward the bed.

Her eyes widened, but she could not turn away when he sat down and removed his leather boots, then drew the wool tunic over his head. He held her eyes the whole time as he stood and unlaced his braies, letting them drop at his feet.

Eadyth gave a quick intake of breath at his wonderful body, with all its hard surfaces of muscle and sinew, silky hair and masculine curves…and hard, hard manhood standing out in
invitation to her. She should close her eyes to shut out the temptation. She did not.

“I know how Eve felt in the Garden of Eden,” she admitted ruefully, despite her better judgment.

“Tempted are you, Eadyth?” he asked huskily. “Are you likening me to Adam?”

She came to her senses immediately. “Nay, the snake.”

He chuckled softly and lay down on the soft mattress, watching her.

“I cannot sleep next to you.”

“’Tis your choice. Sleep on the stool, or on the floor, or in the bed. I already promised not to touch you against your will.”

Eadyth moved closer to the bed and removed her veilgown. Then she edged herself onto the mattress on the far side, complaining, “There are no bed linens. What will I use if it turns cold?” She immediately regretted her words.

“Mayhap you can seek my body heat. I swear my skin is hotter than Hades right now.”

“I would rather grow icicles on my nose,” she declared stubbornly. “And best you keep that icicle of yours on your own side of the bed.”

He laughed. “’Tis more like a hot poker right now.”

She made a sound of disgust and turned onto her stomach, burrowing into the mattress as she tried to get comfortable. “I cannot sleep without a bed linen covering me.”

“I could cover your cold body with my ‘hot poker’.”