After scowling in the direction Roger had gone for a moment, Thayer finished his ale. What annoyed him most was that he could see the truth in Roger’s words. If one continually expected the worst, one usually got it. He had seen it happen far too often to doubt it. Unfortunately, he had also seen too many women like Gytha do exactly as he expected her to do. It seemed he was doomed no matter which way he turned. He courted disaster both by continually anticipating a shameful cuckolding and by having a wife as beautiful as Gytha.
Feeling thoroughly discouraged, he headed to his bedchamber. He would take his wife to court with him. It might be inviting trouble, but it was without doubt the safest place for her to be. At least, he thought darkly, safe from Robert and his grasping uncle. Elizabeth and the various loose-moraled courtiers would not be trying to murder her. Whatever else they tried he would deal with it as it presented itself.
When he entered their bedchamber, he found Gytha laughing with Bek. Seeing her happy, watching her form a bond with his son, he could almost believe that the idyll he had found in the months with Gytha would continue. He wanted to believe it, yet a part of him refused to release the fear of being fooled for a second time, of hearing that mocking laughter all over again.
Seeing the serious expression Thayer wore, Gytha asked, “Did the messenger bring bad news?”
“More inconvenient than bad. We have been summoned to court.”
“We? Youandme?”
“Aye, youandme. We leave in three days.”
Chapter Eight
“Margaret, how could you do this to me?”
Gasping from the effects of a hearty bout of sneezing, Margaret struggled to sit up in bed and watched Gytha pace the bedchamber. “You think I suffer like this by choice?” She weakly lifted the goblet of mead from the table at her bedside and took a sip to ease the soreness in her throat.
Gytha sighed, then grimaced as she moved to sit on the edge of Margaret’s bed. Poor Margaret looked horrible, her eyes and nose red and damp. The three women who shared the chamber with her had fled the room, terrified of catching what ailed Margaret. It was selfish to feel put-upon because Margaret would not go to the king’s court with her. Gytha knew that but could not fully stem her disappointment at not having Margaret for support during what she foresaw as an ordeal.
“I am being a heartless fool.”
“Nay, Gytha, I understand. I truly wish I could go, although I am not quite sure what troubles you so about the journey.”
“That womanwill be there.”
“Lady Elizabeth? Bek’s mother?”
“Aye. Her.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“From what little Thayer told me of the woman—aye. That she frequents the court was the only reason he told me as much as he did about her.”
“But Thayer also said he has naught to do with the woman now.”
Waiting for Margaret to stop sneezing so she could be heard, Gytha said, “Aye, but he never said he no longer loves her. He avoids her. That is his answer to the matter. To me that hints that whatever hold she had on him might well still linger. If it did not, then he would feel no real need to stay away from her, would he?”
Rubbing her temples, Margaret smiled weakly. “I know there are a lot of things I could say to severely weaken that argument but I am unable to think clearly at the moment. My mood is also so sour that I feel inclined to say that if he wants such a cold, cruel woman, then leave the fool to his misery.”
Laughing in surprise at Margaret’s unaccustomed tartness, Gytha rose and kissed her cousin’s cheek. “Rest. I have to take Edna with me, but do not fear I will leave you untended. Janet has offered to serve you, since Riverfall seems overrun with cowardly women. She may not be trained as a maid, but she is strong and able.”
“Thank you. And I hope all your fears are groundless.”
“So do I.” Gytha was only mildly surprised to meet Roger coming in as she left, for she had seen his interest in her cousin grow keener with each passing day. “Where is Thayer?”
“With the armourer, so I thought to visit with Margaret before I spoke to him about what Merlion and I have discovered. Is Margaret’s ailment serious?” he whispered.
“Nay, I think not. I have seen it before. ’Tis a misery, but I have rarely seen it be fatal.”
“But the sneezing? ’Tis said it foreshadows the plague.”
“Sneezing also comes with road dust. The signs of plague would have appeared by now, Roger.”
“Aye, of course. I listen to the talk of foolish maids,” he grumbled as he strode towards Margaret’s bed.
Shaking her head, yet understanding his fears, Gytha went in search of her husband. Since the first deadly appearance of the plague, any illness was viewed with heightened terror. The fear creeping through Riverfall would ease soon. Even the most dim-witted would soon realize Margaret could not have the plague. She had been sick for two days already. If she had the plague, they would be burying her by now, with others already preparing to follow her.
