“What does Lady Elizabeth have to do with your speaking your heart to your husband?”
Stopping at the foot of the bed, Gytha looked at Margaret. “A lot. I did think to tell him before we go to court, before he faces that woman again.”
“It would seem a good time. You could give him the strength, if he needs it, to avoid the woman.”
“I could. It could make him stay at my side no matter what lures she throws out. But for what reasons? Because he feels the same or some emotion close to it? Or for guilt and obligation?” She nodded when Margaret grimaced. “And what if he still went to her? There I would stand, heart bared and bleeding, and he would know it. He may even let Lady Elizabeth know.”
“Ah, pride.”
“Aye—pride. Not the most noble of emotions, but we all have some. Mine tells me that I should wait. Telling Thayer will not necessarily gain me anything. Not telling him can save me added pain—the pain of his knowing just how badly he can hurt me if he turns to his old love. Not telling can give me the chance to maintain at least some dignity in the face of defeat. I can pretend I do not care, and he will never be sure if it is otherwise.”
“Gytha, I cannot believe the man would turn to Lady Elizabeth, to a woman who treated him so poorly. Not when he has you. He does not seem to be such a fool.”
“Men can be appalling fools about women, and we both know it. She is not only his old love, recall, but the mother of his son. That has to be a bond of some sort. I know you seek to soothe my fears, but I think I might be wiser to cling to some of them. It will keep me alert for trouble.”
“Aye, you may be right. Has Bek said anything about his mother? He must know she will be there.”
“Oh, he knows. He says little about it though, and I have not pressed him on the matter. ’Tis something I feel he must tell me of his own free will. He does not seem upset. Nor does he seem happy or excited about it. Mayhap he has felt both at times and learned that neither is welcomed.” She shrugged. “If Lady Elizabeth purposely causes him distress in any way, then I shall step in. Otherwise I think it best to stay out of it.”
When Margaret only nodded in reply, Gytha smiled. She could see that Margaret was tiring. After helping her cousin to have another drink of mead, she left Margaret to get some rest. Resisting the urge to find Thayer and learn if any further plans had been made against Pickney, she went to her chambers to check that everything she needed for her time at court was being packed. If there was anything she could do to help fight Pickney, she was sure Thayer would tell her. After colorfully cursing Pickney as viciously as she was able, she turned her full attention on the trip to the king’s court.
“Six more men dead.” Robert glanced nervously at his scowling uncle, who shared the rough table with him. “I think this campaign of yours grows too costly.”
“No one asked you to think.” Charles Pickney glared around the cottage they had taken as their hiding place. “Do you wish to live like this all your life?”
“We could make amends with my cousin. Then we could return to Saitun Manor.”
“Are you fully witless? We have spent months trying to kill the man. Do you truly think he would just shrug that aside and clasp us to his bosom as kin and friends? He will have our heads from our shoulders if we get within sword reach.”
“Well, we cannot reach him at court. It now grows difficult to get more men to go after him. The dead mount up and our coin dwindles. We should never have begun this.” Robert cried out when his uncle struck him full across the face, cutting his lip.
“Stop your whining. We have not lost yet.”
Robert opened his mouth to argue, then quickly shut it. With each failure his uncle had grown more vicious. Pickney’s rages were more frequent and wilder. Even when Robert did not argue or speak up, he could suffer the brunt of that fury. Robert began to think he had tied his fate to that of a madman.
Inwardly he sighed, cursing the weakness that kept him tied to his mother’s brother, kept him participating in plots he really wanted no part of. Although he had always been jealous of William and Thayer, he had never wished them harm. He certainly wished none to Gytha, yet he began to suspect his uncle had plans beyond letting him marry Gytha. It sickened him that even that did not give him the strength to combat his uncle.
“Thayer and his whore…” Pickney began.
“Gytha is not a whore.” That earned him another blow, but Robert sullenly accepted it, refusing to take back his words.
“They will be kept busy at court. That could benefit us. We can take back Saitun Manor.”
“Take it back? How can we hold it? That requires more men than we have.”
“Then we will get more. As for holding the place, we need but one person to aid us in that. Little Gytha. Aye, she will be shield enough against an attack.”
“If we can get her. She is well protected.”
“I have already set that plan in motion. Aye, it will not be easy, but if we draw back for a while, her guard may grow lax. We have time. If we are careful in taking Saitun Manor, we can even make sure that Red Devil is unaware of the loss for a while. Why, we could even use his lady to gain the manor.”
“He will come after her.”
“Of course he will. I want him to. We will use his lady to bring him to us, then we will kill him.” Pickney smiled at the thought, his mind crowded with plans to bring about that satisfactory conclusion.
“And then I shall marry Gytha?” Robert watched his uncle closely as the man answered him.
“What? Oh, of course. You must, to strengthen our hold on the lands. You will have your pretty little wife.”
