Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 03] by The Tarnished Lady Page A

do not just pick up their belongings and move from keep to keep.”
    Eirik stared at her intently, and Eadyth squirmed under his scrutiny. She wished he would stop stroking the silken hairs of his mustache. It was disconcerting.
    “Then leave the bees there. But you, my lady,” he concluded flatly, pointing a finger in her face, “will live here with your son or there will be no marriage.”
    “Why would you care where I live? ’Tis no love match atween us.”
    “For certain,” he said drolly, casting a look of amused disdain her way.
    Lord, she would like to smack the silly smirk off his disgustingly handsome face. “Methought you would value the freedom of my absence from Ravenshire.”
    “What makes you think I would be less free with you here?”
    Eadyth stiffened with indignation and pulled her head-rail forward to hide her emotion. Then she asserted, jutting her chin out proudly, “I could not abide having your lemans in the same keep as I.”
    Eirik’s translucent eyes widened with surprise. Then he smiled with irritating mockery.
    “My lady, you offend me. I have told you afore, and will not repeat it again. I am an honorable man. I would not disgrace a wife so.”
    Casting a sidelong glance of skepticism at him, she asked, “Are you saying you would never take a mistress?”
    She delighted in the flush that swept across his face and the way he squirmed in his seat. He refused to answer, just watched her closely with arms folded across his massive chest, stroking his infernal mustache the whole time.
    “I do not mean to make you uncomfortable, Eirik. I havenot asked you to give up your women.”
    “Women! Oh, Eadyth, you do credit me with more endowments—and endurance—than I truly have,” Eirik remarked, shaking his head incredulously. “Where do you get these ideas of the many women I have?”
    “’Tis said you fornicate like a rutting stag.” Oh, sweet mother, did I really say that?
    Eirik inhaled sharply at the words she had blurted out without thinking, and his jaw tensed with outrage.
    “You heard such said of me?”
    “Well, not quite those exact words.”
    “Then be more specific,” he demanded. “Who would insult me so? ’Twas Steven of Gravely, I warrant, the damned rumormonger.”
    “Nay, ’twas not Steven,” she informed him, wishing once again that she could learn to curb her foolish tongue. Hastily, she added, “Actually, I think the words I heard in the marketplace were more like, ‘The Raven cannot pass a pretty maid without sampling her honey, and the women buzz with satisfaction at his pricking.’”
    She shrugged her shoulders dismissively.
    Eirik’s eyes almost popped from his head and his mouth went slack-jawed at her frank words. Then he exploded with laughter.
    “Oh, Eadyth! The things you do say!” he finally choked out. “Ne’er have I met a woman with your blunt tongue. ’Tis too bad you…ah, well, a man cannot have everything.”
    Eadyth somehow knew he was about to bemoan her age and ugliness. A small part of Eadyth shriveled inside at his unspoken words. The low estimation of this devilishly handsome oaf should not matter to her, but it cut nonetheless.
    A thrum of alarm swept over Eadyth at her weakening resistance. What was happening to her usual good sense? Sitting up straighter, she vowed to maintain better control over her oddly churning emotions.
    Forcing a bland expression to her face, refusing to show how the implied insult hurt, Eadyth persisted, “I still wouldknow why you insist I stay here.”
    “I wish to bring my daughters home. Remember? You promised to care for them.”
    With relief, Eadyth nodded at his explanation, understanding now why he wanted her to live at Ravenshire.
    “Well, perchance I could bring some of the bees here. Leastwise, ’tis what I promised in the dower agreement. Let us compromise, though. I will spend half my time here and half at Hawks’ Lair, taking the girls with me so that you are free to…travel