He ignored that touch of impertinence. “It was foolish to leave the safety of the camp. You must never wander off unless you tell me where and why first. I know you expected fury from me. You would have received it save that I stayed away until my blood cooled. Neither were you badly hurt. And the warning you gave saved my men. A surprise attack like that would have been a slaughter—ours. Instead, I lost but two men. But why did you wander away?”
“I wanted some flowers to scent these quarters.”
“Next time you wish to gather some, tell me. I will send a well-armed man with you. Mayhap two.”
“They will not like it much.”
“They will do it all the same. Heed me?”
She nodded her acquiesence. “What happened to the man who seized me?”
“He lost three fingers on his sword hand. I then sent him back to his master with a warning.”
She trembled faintly but knew the punishment was quite merciful compared to what many another would have meted out. “And who was his master?”
“My cousin—Robert.”
“Robert?” She shook her head in surprise. “Are you certain?”
“Aye. That is the name the attack was carried out under. Howbeit, t’was his uncle who plotted and commanded. I think you know that as well as I.”
“Aye. And Robert, no matter how he felt, would allow it. Yet, why? Why do such a thing?”
“He wants it all—my estates, my fortune. They would rest in Robert’s name, but the uncle would rule. Then too, Robert wanted you. Nay,” he murmured when she began to protest. “He did and he does. I think now that it would not have been a very safe marriage for you.
“How so?”
“Because you might well have made Robert a man.”
She slowly nodded her understanding. “If Robert grew stronger, took more responsibility, then he could become a threat to his uncle. That man would not long tolerate a threat.”
“Nay, he would be quick to see to the permanent removal of a threat like that.”
“What do you mean to do about him?”
“I sent that man back to Robert and his uncle. Now they will know their plot has failed, know I am aware of their schemes. I told them it would be wise to make themselves scarce—very scarce indeed. It will be my only warning.”
“Do you really think it will be heeded?”
“’Tis my hope that it will be. I have no stomach for killing my own kin.”
“How sad it is when families battle amongst themselves. My father came from such a family.”
“That is hard to believe. Your own family is a close one, a loving one. ’Tis clear for all to see.
“Papa learned from mistakes he saw made as he grew, Thayer. He saw a husband turn his own wife against him. He saw how, in her hurt, she then turned his own children against him. He saw how bastards, bred and recognized yet unloved, turned bitter, greedy eyes on what was denied them. As he grew he saw those who should have stayed together and been a haven of trust and love for each other, pull away from each other. They schemed and murdered until none but my father and his brother were left. He and my uncle vowed they would never let that poison touch them.” She shook her head. “My aunt does try, though.”
“Because of Margaret?”
“Aye. My aunt is jealous of a bachelor’s one error, though I hate to consider Margaret so. Because of that jealousy, my aunt tries to poison the family against him. She tries, but she will fail.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Very sure. Soon the boys will go for fostering, the girls as well. Uncle will send his children to my parents. Margaret is now with me, as was always planned. The two houses will mix more. Whatever poison has been planted will be drawn out.”
As Thayer listened to her tale he realized that now was the perfect time to speak of Bek. Margaret’s plight was fresh in Gytha’s mind, softening her attitude. Still, he found it hard to begin. He was not overly concerned about her acceptance of Bek. That could be worked on. It was the tale he had to relate that troubled him. It was sordid and, he feared, left him looking the greatest of idiots. Neither would any wife be glad to hear a tale of her husband’s love for another, long dead though it was. Nevertheless, he struggled to swallow those qualms and begin his story.
“Speaking of bachelor follies,” he began, still hesitant.
