She found that easy enough to believe. Nevertheless, she felt sure he was not telling her the full truth. Despite the wine that fogged her senses, however, she knew it would be useless to press for more. Even as she decided to drop the matter, voices from the other side of the hedge behind her drew all her attention.
“We should not,” gasped a husky female voice. “My husband—”
“Is soaked senseless with wine.”
“Your wife?”
“Abed. She cares little how I entertain myself. Ah, so lovely. Breasts as full and sweet as ripe melons.”
Gytha gasped and looked at Margaret, who hastily covered her reddened face with her hands. Although she had often heard gossip of lovers and trysts, infidelity and adultery, Gytha had dismissed most of it as just that—gossip. Her parents were deeply in love, and she had seen their faithful marriage as the true way of things. It was now clear to her that the gossip had held a few grains of truth.
In the heat of righteous indignation, she decided that such things would not be allowed in her home. After glaring at the amused men, she leapt off the bench and started around the hedge. Hearing her three companions come after her, she hurried to elude them. The sight of the entwined couple on the ground enraged her. Even as the man saw her and hastened to stand up, she gave him a good kick in the backside. She glared at the couple as they scrambled to pull together their tangled clothing. Then she began to lecture them, punctuating certain statements with an occasional swat at one or the other miscreant. Although she felt she understood human frailties and could be tolerant of mistakes, this was too much. That someone would commit flagrant adultery in her father’s newly constructed gardens, her mother’s pride and joy, was more than she could bear.
Fully dressed, the woman finally grew angry with Gytha. “What do you know of love?”
“You love this faithless rogue?” Although she thought the woman a fool if she did, Gytha was willing to temper her condemnation if love was involved.
The woman hesitated and, when she did speak, her voice lacked the ring of conviction. “Well, of course I do.”
“Fie! You add lying to your sins. Go back to your lawful husband where you belong.”
“Have you ever set eyes upon my husband?” the woman snapped.
After a moment of concentration, Gytha nodded. “’Tis true that he is not as fair of face and figure as this swine. Howbeit, he is clean, healthy, possessed of all his own teeth and hair. He also appears to be cheerful of disposition. You could have done far worse. Begone, dam, you grow tedious.” She was a little surprised when the couple hastily obeyed her imperious command.
“Oh, Gytha,” Margaret murmured when the couple was gone, loving amusement in her voice, “you should have let be.”
“But, Margaret, my mother often strolls here with my father.”
Although his sides ached from all the smothered laughter he had already indulged in, Thayer started again. He joined Roger in whooping with unrestrained laughter. Gytha was staring at the ground as if the trysters had left some bold stain, forever tainting the area. She still looked beautifully indignant.
Slowly, Gytha turned to look at Thayer, drawn by the sound of his laughter. It was deep, hearty, yet with an open boyish quality, and very contagious. She half-noticed that Roger’s was like it and that it left Margaret bemused. Fleetingly, she wondered if Roger’s laughter caused Margaret’s insides to warm as Thayer’s caused hers to.
“I suppose it was silly of me to interfere,” she murmured, walking over to him where he sat upon the ground, his back against a tree.
As she sat next to Thayer she noticed Roger carefully get up. The man grabbed Margaret’s hand and the pair slipped away. Her father was obviously not the only one who felt she and Thayer ought to have some time alone. Although she made no effort to stop their desertion, she was torn in her feelings. His bout of laughter had softened Thayer, making him less aloof. However, she was not sure of what to say, what to do. For the first time in her memory she felt nervous, almost shy.
She knew that aloofness of his could return. There were many reasons behind it. The shock over finding himself betrothed to her was not, however, the real cause. She simply did not know how to discover the true one.
Trying to think of some way to start a conversation made her head ache. She had never had a problem before. The only difficulty in the past had been in keeping the conversation idle, so that no words of love or desire escaped the lips of any man other than her betrothed. She sighed as sadness crept over her. That would be no problem here. It was hard not to dwell upon the rather cruel twists of fate. For once she felt an honest desire to hear sweet words, but she was certain the man at her side would give her few.
Thayer studied the girl at his side. When she looked up at him, he read no guile in her wide-eyed, upturned face. No pinching vanity marred her loveliness. There was the aura of a sheltered child about her. Despite that he clung to his wariness, almost afraid to let it go. Once he had done so, and no wound he had ever suffered in battle had equaled the pain that had resulted.
“They will only go elsewhere.” He kept his tone gentle, not wishing her to think he ridiculed her in any way. “You may have made it more difficult, but you have not stopped them.”
“That did occur to me. They are surely doomed to hell.”
“Gytha, ’tis a thing often done. Women take lovers, men have lemans….”
“My parents do not commit such sins. They hold to vows given before God. Now I know that it aids fidelity that their marriage has love to strengthen it.”
“Aye. Any who meet them can see it. In that they are fortunate. Not all are, thus they take lovers.”
“Lovers—bah. Partners in lust. That pair held no love for each other. That is where the sin truly lies.” She suddenly had a thought that struck her cold to the bone. “Will you have lemans?”
For a moment he was tempted to give her a strong lecture on impertinence. The subject was one a wife dutifully ignored. Gytha was endearingly unworldy. She still believed in the sanctity of marriage. He decided it was not the time for a lecture. He also knew that, as long as she remained faithful, he would have no difficulty in doing likewise. His sexual appetite was a hearty one, but it did not demand variety. If Gytha brought some warmth to their bed, he would feel no need to stray.
“Not unless you take a lover to your bed.” He caught his breath at the beauty of her smile.
