Although rough and rude, Sir Eudes did not act the fool and his nod and agreement showed that he knew the odds were against him. The vicious look in his eyes told her he would not forget this insult by someone he considered below him in rank and privilege.
‘A Breton is what I meant,’ he mumbled.
‘What you meant…?’ Lord Giles pressed the point.
‘What I meant, my lord,’ the knight spat out more loudly.
Lord Giles stepped away then and nodded. ‘Give Lord Huard my regards and tell him I understand my obligations to my Norman neighbours. Roger, Lucien, escort these men to the edge of my lands so that they do not lose their way.’
His commanders and six other knights led the others away. Giles, Brice and a few others stood together whispering and arguing furiously, but every few moments another expletive or curse rang out from them. Clearly these two groups of men hated each other and their disputes went back to their homelands. There was more at play than a simple message from one lord to his neighbour.
Unwilling to disturb them, but unable to move unless she did so, Fayth waited until they remembered her presence, trying to pick up fragments of their conversations. It took but a minute or so before Giles glanced over at her and issued some orders to his men regarding her. He left them and came to her side.
‘I cannot allow you to visit the village today, lady. I would take no chances with your safety or give them the opportunity for mischief of any kind against me or my people.’
‘I understand that his insult against me was against your honour, my lord, but I thank you for defending my person to him.’
‘You are my wife, lady,’ he said, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing it. ‘I would defend your honour to any man.’
The devil tempted her to her next words, and she could not resist asking it. ‘Am I fortunate that Sir Eudes did not arrive a few days ago when you yet believed I’d given mine away?’ Instead of the anger she expected, a chagrined expression filled his face and he nodded to her.
‘Aye, you are correct and I fear that I demanded your trust in me without giving mine in your word, Fayth,’ he said in a low, private tone to her. ‘I only ask that we will speak on that matter in private before we speak of it in public,’ he said. ‘I would rather have any wifely reprimands delivered away from the eyes of my knights who would taunt me later on my numerous faults if I give you leave to do so before them.
‘For now, though, my lady, I will assign Emma and the girl to you to assist you in any work you have here in the keep.’
She nodded in acceptance, for he’d surprised her beyond words once more and Fayth waited for him and the other knights to leave. Just before he left with them, he returned to her.
‘You are still very pale, whether from the rude words you suffered or from your illness matters not to me. If you feel the need to rest or to walk outside in the air, please do so and do not overwork yourself until you have regained your strength.’
He’d saved her from betraying him this day and she accepted it. When Emma and Ardith arrived, she decided to see to his clothing. It took the better part of the afternoon to sort through his meagre selection of tunics, shirts, stockings and breeches and to alter some of her father’s to fit him more closely.
The knights and others in the hall were quiet through their evening meal and there was none of the usual frivolity amongst them as they ate. Mayhap the work was wearing them down, mayhap it was something else? Whatever the reason, she found herself in her chambers along with her husband earlier than was their usual custom.
Chapter Fifteen
Giles carried a cup with him when he entered and handed it to Fayth as her maid had directed him to do. When the old woman got that look in her eyes, he thought it best to do as she ordered. He smiled as he remembered that it had ever been so between them since his very first day here in Taerford.
‘A posset to help you rest. Emma said to drink it as you ready yourself for sleep and not before,’ he repeated the instructions to her. Sniffing, he grimaced from the odour of it. ‘It smells…’ He could not find the words to lie about it. ‘It smells like pitch and mint.’
Handing it to her, he walked away, shaking his head over how anything smelling like that could be worth the taste endured in swallowing it.
Fayth put down her mending and took the cup, smelling it and nodding in agreement. ‘Would you rather I slept in the other chamber this night, my—’ she paused as his gaze narrowed in warning ‘—Giles?’
‘Why would you do that?’ he asked, completely confused by her question.
‘I have heard that men do not wish to share a bed with a woman who…’ She could not say whatever words she meant to say.
‘Who drinks a putrid brew that makes her breath stink?’ he finished. It brought a smile to her face and that pleased him somehow.
‘Women who suffer their monthly courses, Giles,’ she finally admitted.
‘Ah, just so. Are they contagious in some way, then?’
‘Nay,’ she said, her smile turning into a laugh. ‘You cannot catch them.’
‘Then I see no reason to sleep elsewhere this night.’
He watched her as she pushed the needle through the material she sewed. The pile next to her held five or six garments, all of which looked very familiar to him. She was mending his clothes.
